“Once she gets something in her head, she is relentless,” Oro said.
Friendship, for more than five hundred years. Since childhood. Part of Isla wondered if she should be jealous, but she just ... wasn’t. Isla was grateful that Oro had had someone he could count on when he lost his family. Someone he could trust.
Enya shrugged, not even trying to deny it. “I can get obsessive. At least I know that about myself ...” She shot a wicked grin at Isla, then turned to Oro. “Somepeople are far less eager to admit their faults.” She led them through the palace to a room that looked like it was used for strategy. There was a circular table inside, decorated like a sun. At its center was what looked like a pile of ash.
“Would you mind sketching the Wildling newland for me? I already have a rough idea of how many people we will need, and where, but it would be helpful to see.”
Isla just stared at the pile. She turned to Oro, and he smoothed the ash into a thin layer. “Here,” he said. He traced lines in the ashes with his finger, and a moment later they hardened, becoming three-dimensional figures. Interesting.
She dipped her finger inside and felt like a painter, with a canvas and paint that both came to life. There was a time when Isla hadn’t known much about her lands, but she had explored them through portaling many times since.
When she was finished, Enya reached over and grabbed the map. It came off in her hands. She looked at it from all angles, then set it down again.
“Very well. We’ll be ready in three days. I’ve organized my schedule so I can stay there for a week, to make sure everything goes smoothly. Does that sound acceptable?”
Acceptable? Isla wanted to bow at the woman’s feet.
“It sounds perfect,” Isla said.
“Oro tells me you have a portaling device?”
She nodded.
“How many people can it transfer at once?”
“I’m not sure. The most I’ve tried is two.”
Enya waved away any worry. “No matter. We will go in small groups. We’ll make it work.”
Isla believed her. She would believe anything that came out of her mouth.
“Thank you,” Isla said, and, unexplainably, her eyes stung. She felt such gratitude ... Enya didn’t even know her, and she was helping her. Her people.
“Thankyou,” Enya said, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. “For showing us that our dear Oro does indeed still know how to smile.”
Enya had gathered a dozen volunteers. They all stood together on the Mainland, with supplies between them. She quickly explained the usage of the starstick, and the volunteers looked curious, but no one questioned it.
Isla drew her puddle of stars as big as she could, and they all barely fit inside. Then, they were in the Wildling newland.
One of the volunteers was immediately sick. “Sorry,” she said. “I should have warned you about the nausea.”
Isla had portaled them to Wren’s village. The tall Wildling stepped out into the street within minutes. At first, she looked alarmed, but slowly, her expression calmed. She dropped the hand that had instantly gone to her blade. Isla realized then that she hadn’t properly prepared her people for visitors.
“This is Oro, king of Lightlark,” Isla said. By then, a few Wildlings stood in the streets, watching the volunteers warily.
At once, they bowed their heads.
Isla introduced Enya, then Ciel and Avel, who rarely left her side, then the rest of the volunteers. Her people stared at them with varying levels of wariness.
The volunteers looked a little frightened too. The Skyling to her right was smiling, but her gaze kept darting to the monstrous hammer one of the Wildlings carried on her back.
Isla stepped between her people and the visitors. “We are here to help,” she said. “Allof us.”
She worked with the volunteers to hand out supplies from the Mainland castle stock. They would need more for the rest of the newland, but this was a good start. Wren proposed the Wildlings be temporarily consolidated into a few key villages, so help could be centralized. A vote was conducted, and every person agreed to host their neighbors for the time being. Many Wildlings gave up their own homes to the volunteers for the week they planned to stay. Lightlark chefs began teaching Wildlings how to safely prepare meat.
“I’d like to do this for the Starling newland too,” Isla told Oro. “If Enya wouldn’t mind.” She had portaled there a few times, to check on them, in secret. They could use this just as much as the Wildlings.
Isla stayed up until the early morning speaking to her subjects, learning their names, their habits, their lives. She fell asleep on a bench in the middle of the modest village square to the lullaby of laughing, building, and sizzling cooking. Oro must have flown her to bed, because she woke up in her old room a few hours later and startled.
