She placed a hand against the nearest tree, and moss flowed from her fingers, rippling down to the grassy forest floor. The grass grew to a wild height that reached a branch that sprouted bright-purple wisteria. The flowers spiraled down the branch in bunches like bracelets, until the end, where an acorn grew, drooping like an earring. It became so large that it fell, right into Isla’s palm.
This was what it meant to be Wildling.
She took off running. The world stepped to the side to let her through. Trees moved their branches, vines on the ground curled back toward their roots, animals waited for her to pass. A group of birds followed her path, their chirps sounding like encouragement. Flowers sprouted as soon as her feet left the soil, filling her footprints. A blanket of marigolds and roses bloomed in her wake.
She jumped into the air, hand outstretched, and a vine soared to meet it. She swung, careening through the forest, landing in a tree. She didn’t stop, she kept running, and a bridge of branches formed before her, spanning across the top of the woods in a pathway.
It was a flow, a heightened state, a different awareness. She tasted the forest on the tip of her tongue, moss and dew and pine. A warmth traveled through her bones, as if parts of her that had been dormant were now awakening, a flower in her chest finally blooming under the sun. The woods uncurled at her proximity.
The forest was alive—she could see it now as she ran across its back. It was on her side. It would never hurt her again.
It was part of her.
She ran and ran, climbing higher. Nature raced to meet her every need, without her even having to think it. Her focus was complete, she had given all of herself to the woods. In that moment, they were one entity—she could feel it around her, a heartbeat, an ever-changing and flowing force.
It felt like nothing could break that concentration, until she looked down and saw Grim standing far below, watching her.
Isla gasped. Her focus fell, and her pathway along with it. She crashed through the treetops. A branch hit her back, stealing her breath. Her vision swam with shadows. Her head knocked against another branch, and the pain was blinding. She reached for anything to hold on to, but her fingers were sweaty, and she couldn’t get purchase.
The forest would save her, wouldn’t it?
Her connection had given out. She was a stranger, yet again.
No. Her powers would lash out. Surely, they would save her. Her Starling abilities. Wildling. Even Nightshade.
They wouldn’t let her die—
She gasped, watching the ground rush up to meet her.
Just before she hit the forest floor, two strong arms caught her.
Avel was panting over her. Her pale face was flushed red and sweat dripped down her cropped hair. “You fall fast, Ruler,” she said, out of breath.
Isla’s eyes were wide. “You were there?” She had thought she had sneaked out of her quarters successfully.
She was such a fool. One drop, and her people would have been dead. How could she be so careless?
She had felt so in control. So powerful.
Control was fickle, she realized.
“We’re always here,” she said, and Ciel came crashing through the trees to land next to them. His face was flushed too. In that moment, they looked identical.
“Thank you,” she said, though those words would never be enough.
Avel and Ciel took her back to the Wildling palace, and Isla watched the forest floor for any sign of Grim.
LYNX
By the time the volunteers left, the Wildlings had their homes fixed, a steady food supply, new skills, and resources. Isla decided to stay behind for a couple of days, to spend time with her people. She sent Ciel and Avel back to Lightlark, to help in Azul’s search for the rebels. Oro had insisted on staying, not wanting to leave her alone, but she knew he had spent too much time on her already. She told him to trust her, and he did. On the Wildling newland, she felt safe.
She got to know each of the Wildlings in the village and ventured to other settlements close by. Wren took Isla into the forest and taught her a few Wildling wielding techniques, including stances, arm movements, and uses of ability. They spoke for hours.
At the end of one of these lessons, she caught Wren studying her, and said, “What is it?”
Wren shook her head. “It’s just—we always wondered why you never came to see us,” she said. “I know why now, but before ... we were confused. Your mother is the only other ruler I’ve ever known, and she was always there. Playing in the village. Talking to us. She knew everyone. Everyone loved her.”
Her mother.
