And she knew just where to find it.
* * *
Isla found him in front of a crescent window in the Mainland castle. He stood watching the moon, as if staring at it hard enough might make it a sun.
The king stiffened as she entered. But he did not move an inch. Not when she crossed the room. Not when she walked to his side. His eyes remained firmly on the window.
Clearly, she would need to be the first one to speak.
“Thank you,” she began. “For allowing me access.”
He stared straight ahead. “You said so yourself. You did not need my permission.”
They both knew that technically wasn’t true. If the king hadn’t wanted her on his isle or in his library, he could have kept her out.
Silence stretched on, seconds tripping over themselves.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” he finally asked. Only then did he glance over at her.
“No,” she said sharply, and he faced the window again.
More moments ticked by, cartwheeling between them.
“Did you?” she whispered.
It had been five days since she had seen him. More than enough time to have sought out another ancient creature for help. If he had somehow found the heart without her, she would have no other plan. Her only hope was that Oro would take her back. Would honor the terms of their deal again. She would get his protection after the ball, and a chance at still saving her and Celeste.
“No,” he said. Relief tasted sweet on her tongue.
“Good.” She turned to face him. Oro turned too. “What’s next?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE BALL
At the midpoint of the Centennial, on the fiftieth day, the Betwixt Ball took place. It was the Lightlark event of the century, a beautiful excuse for a party that was intended to muddle the anxiety and anguish of the Centennial with bubbling drinks, gowns made of gossamer, and a feast that celebrated each of the isles.
It also marked a turning point in the games. At midnight, killing could begin.
Her guardians had designed a specific outfit for the ball. Precariously placed leaves trailed across her chest and along her stomach, leaving strips of skin exposed across her ribs. The green leaves continued down her middle, just past the tops of her thighs—below there was just sheer material, the occasional leaf sewn into the tumbling fabric. Her cape was deep green and offered at least some sort of modesty.
It also hid her weapons. Throwing stars disguised as brooches. Blades tucked into the folds. Chain mail was stitched into the fabric, making the cape into a shield.
She knew how useless it would all be against a ruler set on assassinating her that night. But she refused to die without a fight. As much as it annoyed her, she would have to trust that Oro would hold up his end of their newly re-inked deal. They were set to seek out the next ancient creature—one the king had promised woulddefinitelytry to kill her—the very next night.
A knock sounded at her door. Ella. “They’re ready for you,” she said.
Isla knew exactly what to expect. Nevertheless, her fingers shook at her sides as she walked down the halls, trailed by staff who carried baskets of crimson rose petals, crushed leaves, and freshly picked wildflowers.
Too soon, she stood before double doors, and Ella left her side. Her spine straightened. Her chin rose.
The doors opened, and Isla stopped breathing.
The ballroom had six grand staircases—one for each ruler. She locked eyes with Celeste across the room. Her friend looked determined, seeing through this glittering ball’s mask into its bloody underbelly. By the next morning, one of them could very well be dead.
It had been twenty-five days since the rulers had been paired together, with the task of figuring out all aspects of the prophecy. Who knew if someonehadidentified the offense that needed to be committed again and now just needed a ruler to die?
She thought of the king’s words in the forest. He claimed the reason the curses hadn’t been broken wasn’t because it was hard to kill another ruler but becausechoosing the right ruler and realm to diewas the difficult part.
