Then, I hear another scream. This one, I would recognize anywhere.
I shoot into the air, landing only once I see her. Relief hits me in the chest and melts through me like ice.She’s all right. She’s alive. Then, I see the Starling, floating, wrapped in webbing.
Someone has attacked her. Who?
Isla cares about the Starling. Her eyes are wide. They’re full of pain and fear.
Time is running out for all of us.
We must find the heart.
FLAMES
We’re on Moon Isle again. Isla is quiet, but I don’t miss the pain in her eyes, and the serious set of her jaw. She’s worried about her friend. Of course she is. I’m worried too. The Starling is still alive ... but if the Moonlings can’t find a cure for this dark enchantment, one of the Lightlark realms will fall.
And if Cleo is the one who attacked her ... perhaps searching for a cure is fruitless.
We walk in silence, both lost in our thoughts. Both knowing what’s at stake.
We stop in front of a single tower. It’s the only visible part of a castle buried beneath the snow.
No one has entered in centuries. And lived, that is. Nightshade creatures have made a home inside of it, beasts with nails like knives and fins like ribbons. It is a dangerous place. One I had hoped to avoid.
Now, it might be our salvation.
We climb through a window in the tower, then descend staircase after staircase until we reach an entire floor submerged in water. Here. This is the second to last place the heart could be on Moon Isle—a place where darkness meets light.
I begin mindlessly removing my clothing, and Isla whirls around, eyes wide. Horrified?
“What are you doing?” she demands.
Isn’t it obvious? “There are creatures in that water that won’t be easy to face. I don’t need to be weighed down or give them something to choke me with.”
I take my cape off next. Then, my shirt. The cold air hits my skin, and I tense. I can feel her gaze on me. I slowly turn to find her staring ... at my chest. I swallow. Is she disgusted by the gray? By the fact that I’m slowly but surely dying?
“I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of bodies before,” I say flatly, under her increasingly sharpened notice.
She swallows. “Of course I have.”
Lie.
I blink. Surprise keeps me rooted in place.
I told her my flair. She must realize I know she’s lying. Still, her head is held high, her expression filled with unyielding confidence.
It almost makes me laugh. Stubborn Wildling.LyingWildling.
How far will she commit to this lie? How long can she lie with a straight face? I step forward and tilt my head at her. “Tell me, Wildling ... howmanypeople have you been with?”
Her cheeks flush, and I resist the urge to smile.
“What kind of question is that?” she demands, butthat didn’t answer my question. She’s avoiding it.
The truth. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from her. That’s all I’ve evergivenher. It’s wrong, but if she won’t give it to me outright, I want to pull it out of her, word by word. “A curious one.” I shrug. “I’ve been with many women. It’s not something I deny.”
A long time ago, I don’t say. So long ago, I don’t remember their faces, or their names. I likely wouldn’t recognize them if they were right in front of me.
Not that I ever took the time to study them or know them. It was purely physical, then over, because I was supposed to have learned from my brother’s mistakes.
