Isla stilled, wondering if she should prepare to run. And what good it would do her.
“But the creatures it would draw out ... I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.” Isla wondered about these creatures, the ones he had mentioned before. Who were they, and why did they hate Wildlings so much?
Why was even Oro afraid of them?
Isla had always assumed that the rulers were the worst things at the Centennial. The most powerful. Most lethal.
The way the king spoke about these ancient creatures made her think that wasn’t true. Made her wonder how deadly they could be.
And also made her hope she never found out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THORNS
It had been ten days since Grim had sought her out. She should have been relieved. But part of her wilted at the fact that Celeste had likely been right.
What other explanation could he have to suddenly avoid her after seeking her out so consistently? She really had just been a part of his plan—whatever it was.
Fool,she called herself, for believing anything else.
It was their third night in the coffiner forest. They had looked inside hundreds of trees, all heartless. Isla was starting to wonder if she hadn’t paid close enough attention in the garden.
Was there something she had missed? She had identified the plants most likely to harbor the type of power Oro had described ... but she could have been wrong.
On their way across the Mainland, she had asked the king more questions. Every day with him was a test, seeing how much he would tell her.
“Why didn’t Cleo attend the last Centennial?” Azul had mentioned it before.
The woods hadn’t hurt her yet, but she still felt their energy unspooling around her, as if the nature was simply waiting for the right moment to pounce. Even the king was careful where he walked, not underestimating the power of the forest for a moment.
“You should ask her. The two of you get along so well.”
Isla might have thought that was an attempt at a good-natured joke,and might have keeled over at the possibility of the king making one, if his tone hadn’t been so hostile.
She gave him a look. “It isn’t my fault she’s had a target set on me since I made that comment at dinner.”
The king shook his head. He seemed in disbelief at her foolishness. “Cleo wouldn’t kill you because she dislikes you.”
Isla scoffed. He clearly hadn’t seen the way the Moonling had studied her, as if she was counting down the hours until the fiftieth day of the Centennial. “You seem to think highly of her.”
The king, to her surprise, nodded. “I do. Cleo thinks of the good of her realm above all else.”
Isla remembered the Moonling’s trial. It had tested one’s desires.
Terra and Poppy had preached the same unrelenting commitment to one’s people. Only on the island had Isla understood how big of a sacrifice it was to give up all the world had to offer. “Really?” Isla said incredulously. “She has no hobbies? No lovers?”
Oro didn’t meet her gaze. “She did have different relationships, with both men and women, before she came into power,” he said. “But since she has been ruler, she has focused completely on her realm’s future. Her focus is admirable.” He worked his jaw. “That does not mean she is not a problem, however.”
Problem.Isla wondered if he knew about her legion. Her guards. He must.
“Wouldn’t that commitment to her realm mean she would kill any ruler she could to fulfill the prophecy? To make sure she and her people don’t die?”
The king came to a stop. “Any ruler?” he repeated.
She shrugged. “The first she had the chance to assassinate.”
He had never looked as repulsed by her as he did then. “Don’t you understand, Wildling? Killing a ruler isn’t the hard part. We all have had several opportunities to fulfill that portion of the prophecy. Do you know why killing isn’t allowed until the fiftieth day?”
