She ran the rest of the way to the ruins where the Starlings lived, and there, she also smelled blood.
“What happened?” Isla demanded.
“The creatures,” Maren said. “A little girl ... about Cinder’s age ...” Her voice cracked at the end.
Leo was there, a reed sticking out of his mouth. He chewed it with nervous fervor. “She went into the woods, and this is all we found.”
A cloak sat on the floor. It was soaked in blood. Someone cried out. A sister, or friend, she didn’t know.
Isla shut her eyes tightly. She had promised to protect them.
She looked around at the Starlings. They were young. Scared. They were staring at her, and she remembered what Ella had said.You gave us a chance to live. To most of us, you are a god. A savior.
It was her duty to see if she could possibly save the little girl.
With more resolution than she felt, Isla asked, “Where can I find these creatures?”
None of the Starlings would walk beyond the first silver stream of water that cut the isle in half. It looked like a piece of ribbon, glittering below the sun.
Everything was silent.
Ciel and Avel circled above. She told them to keep their distance. Surprise would be an advantage.
“If you see them, you’re already dead,” one of the Starlings offered, and she expected fear to curl in her stomach.
It did not. She had seen her own death in her head. She had faced many dangers already. Those thoughts kept her moving forward, through the stillness of Star Isle.
A bird with silver wings cut through the sky like a pair of swords. She recognized it immediately. Celeste—Aurora—had told her about the bird. A few of them had made it to the Starling newland. It was a heartfinch, named so because they always traveled in pairs and often leaned their beaks together in a manner resembling a heart.
This one was alone.
Isla’s fingers slipped down the hilt of her blade at her waist, by habit. The ability in her chest thrummed, as if in warning, and she let it warm her, like drinking a hot cup of tea.
The crumbled wall is your last chance to turn around,Leo had told her around his reed.After that ... you belong to them.
They looked nervous that Isla was going to confront the creatures. She would show them she was capable of protecting them.
The wall was no more than a few scattered silver stones, with an arch that had partially collapsed. There was a puddle of something at its entrance. She leaned down and dipped a finger inside.
She didn’t need to smell it to know it was blood. It had gone cold.
Just as she straightened, squinting behind her to see Ciel and Avel circling in the distance, it began to rain.
Of course,she thought, glaring up at the sky, wishing she was a Moonling so she could at least direct the water around her. She was no such thing, so she shook her head and resigned herself to being soaked. Water splashed in the puddle of blood, overflowing it, making it run down the mossy cobblestone, through the gaps between them in lines like veins. She studied it for a moment, her stomach turning, then stepped through the remaining half of the arch.
Isla walked for nearly an hour without incident. She had reached the forest where the creatures were said to live. It was nothing like the other Star Isle woods she had visited during the Centennial. Where that one had been sparse, this one was overgrown. Wild. The silver trees had leaves sharp as blades. Their trunks were braided together into thick knots, their roots were the width of her arms. Thorned brambles made up much of the space between them. She would have exerted much of her power to clear a path, but she didn’t need to. She happened upon a wide, clean pathway cut right through the forest, as if made for her. There were no roots or errant flowers or weeds on it. It was smooth. Recently used.
That didn’t make sense. Was there a community living out here? Were they like the Vinderland? Outcasts who had renounced all realms a millennium ago?
Isla gripped her sword hilt again.
She felt little connection with this place. It seemed defensive, a fortress. Lightning struck, slicing the sky in half. Thunder clapped, and more rain showered down, pelting her through the treetops.
She whipped around.
Out of the corner of her eye—she swore she saw movement, far above. Her sword made a high-pitched scratch as she unsheathed it and leaned into her stance.
Seconds passed. Nothing moved. The flash of motion she had seen had been high above her, past even the treetops ... She squinted through the rain, but the trees were empty. The leaves were too sharp, she reasoned. No people or animals could comfortably climb them. They would cut themselves. Right?
