Isla turned to look at him. His eyes were still closed, and the crown of his head was still leaned against the wall. “You believe the thief stole it from your castle?”
Grim shrugged a shoulder. “If she did, she really is the best.”
“I take it there aren’t any ways around it.”
He shook his head. “Infallible, unfortunately.”
She sighed. “What do we do now?” There had been yards between them and the sword. Even if they could lure the dragon out of the cave, who knew how many other enchantments the thief had protecting her bounty?
Grim groaned as he straightened himself. “Tonight? I drink my entire store of liquor. Later? I suppose I continue to play shield until we get past all the protections.”
PAIN
Power was metal in her mouth, in her nostrils, down her throat, in her stomach. It lit every inch of her up and through; she was a shining beacon, a blade of power carving the world to her desired shape and measurements.
In her memories, Grim had taught her something no one else had bothered to. To win, she needed more power.
Grim claimedpain was the strongest emotion.
Pain could be useful.
Trees rose from the soil in bursts of dirt. Ground broke and built until it formed the beginnings of mountains. Flowers blanketed in front of her, so many, so quickly, they fell right off the side of the island.
More. She neededmore.
Barbed plants, the same ones that had stabbed her everywhere during the Centennial, rose up in thick brambles. Plants with poisoned leaves sprouted. She painted the Mainland in them both, all the parts they needed to block off.
Isla sank her hands into the dirt, fingers in wild shapes, and bellowed, until the ground broke open and more plants formed all around her. Thorn-covered, monstrous plants that would fight back and defend themselves.
It might have been minutes or hours later, but she felt him, a ray of sunlight landing behind her. “Isla?” he said. Her name was a question.
“I finished it,” she said. It had seemed almost impossible to create so much nature in nine days, but she had done it in a single night. “Look, I made walls to block their paths. I covered all the open spaces. Grim can only portal them where you and Zed decided.” She was beaming.
He did not look proud.
He looked ... horrified. She didn’t think she would ever forget the way he now looked at her. Like she was something wrong.
Like she was a monster.
“What have you done?” he asked.
She tracked the direction of his gaze and saw it. Blood dripped down the front of her dress. Her hands reached up and touched it, coming from her eyes, her nose, the sides of her mouth, her ears.
Power ... tasted like blood.
It tasted like blood.
She was saying it over and over, or maybe it was just in her head, or maybe she lived in her head, maybe she never had to leave, maybe she should open herself completely up to the world and let everything in her finally pour out—
“Isla.” His hands were rough against her shoulders. He was shaking her. He looked angry. Upset.
Disappointed.
She ripped her power back into herself, and the world steadied before her.
The voices stopped.
It was only her and Oro. And still ... he looked displeased.
