From then on, they trained from the first sunlight to the last. In the mornings, she and Oro ran on the beaches below the Whitecliffs. He said it would help clear her mind, and it did.
She practiced moving large and small objects. She practiced manipulating the dirt and rocks around her. Every day, he came up with new tests, new ways to sharpen her control. In the evenings, they had dinner together, just the two of them. Afterward, they would sit on the floor, drinking tea, trading stories about their childhoods, until Isla inevitably fell asleep. She always woke up in her bed, though, meticulously wrapped in blankets.
Since she hadn’t been able to visit the Starlings after the coronation, Isla asked Oro to station guards at the Star Isle bridge, to prevent the attacks, and to provide any immediate assistance they might require.
“Consider it done,” he had said, and it made her feel a little better about committing all this time to training.
Little by little, control became natural. The power within her, unruly and vast like the sea, began to sharpen into a single stream of ability.
Today, Oro pulled a blindfold from his pocket. “Is this okay?” he asked.
She nodded, and he tied it tightly around her head. “Bring back any memories?”
He laughed, the sound low and scraping the back of her mind.
“Did you want to kill me that day?” she asked, remembering how she had knocked the crown from his head with one of her throwing stars. How it had clattered noisily in the shocked silence.
“No,” he whispered somewhere close to her ear, the shade of his voice making her arms prickle, even though it was scorching outside. “Quite the opposite.”
“Really?”
“Really. That night, all I could think about was your annoyingly smug face when you took off the blindfold.”
The corners of her lips twitched. “I was pretty impressed with myself.” She frowned. “Though my demonstration wasn’t nearly as impressive as your gilding.” She said the last word carefully. With what he had shared with her, she imagined his ability to gild was still tinged with pain. Tainted. Hundreds of years had gone by. She wanted to take the pain associated with the ability away.
Was that love?
She reached up and moved the blindfold so she could see him. “You know,” she teased, “for someone who can make anything into gold . . . I would think you would have already gifted someone you love at least a golden apple. Or a golden . . . blade of grass.”
Someone you love . . . She surprised herself with the boldness of her words.
He tensed. She only got a glimpse of his surprise before he tugged the blindfold down over her eyes again. His hand did not leave her face. His thumb slid down her temple, and it sent shivers through her body. He sighed and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “When all this is over, I’ll gild you an entire castle. Is that sufficient?”
“That’s a little excessive.”
Another sigh.
He stepped away, and his voice became serious. “Wielding power means feeling it around you, not simply seeing it. Even with your back turned, or eyes closed, you should be able to sense a threat.”
A rock hit the side of her head, and she whipped around, baring her teeth. “Really?”
“It was a pebble. I’m reaching for a rock now. Focus.”
Isla couldn’t see a thing behind the blindfold, but she focused, and the tiny threads that had annoyed her so much previously began appearing, a million little links around her. She had blocked them out the last few weeks, but now they all came rearing back, especially since one of her main senses had been taken away. The more she mentally searched her surroundings, the louder everything became again. It was like endless noise; she couldn’t focus on anything—
By the time she sensed the rock, it had already hit her shoulder.
She winced. The bruise was sure to look like a storm cloud.
“Focus.”
“I am,” she said through her teeth.
Another rock hurtled at her. She sensed it and shot out her hand but missed. It hit her hip.
Isla felt something rising through her ribs, uncurling in her chest.
When the next rock hit her in the stomach, it unleashed.
“Put your arms down, Isla.”
Were they even up? She ripped the blindfold off, only to see sharp blades made from branches, dozens of them, levitating in the air, all pointed at Oro. Rocks hovered between them, vibrating with intensity.
Isla gasped, and they fell to the ground with a lifeless thump.
She took a step back. “I—I’m sorry.” She hadn’t even realized what she was doing. Her power had taken over.
Oro stepped toward her. “I was never in danger.”
But what if she did hurt him one day? When he was asleep? When she wasn’t paying attention?
“You need to work on controlling your emotions when using power,” he said. “But.” There was a but? “That was impressive.”
“It was?”
“It was focused, at least. A lot more controlled than when Remlar initially released your powers,” Oro said.
“So, what you’re saying is, I am getting more efficient at trying to kill you,” she deadpanned.
“Precisely.” His expression turned serious. “Emotion undoes control,” he explained. “When you’re emotional, your power has no constraint. It might seem like it makes you more powerful, but it can be dangerous. It can drain you completely until there’s nothing left.”
Isla trained harder. She tested the limits of her control, working to keep her emotions steady. Her life narrowed to just her, Oro, and her Wildling power. For over a week, there were no more memories. No more voice inside her head. No sightings.
The shadow of Grim had disappeared, and Isla hoped she never had to see him again.
ENYA
“I want to continue my training on the Wildling newland,” Isla said.
They had worked together for weeks. She was still far from a master, but she felt in control enough that she wouldn’t be a danger. It had been too long since she had visited her people. She needed to make sure they were taken care of, then she needed to start preparing for the inevitability that Grim was coming for her. He had likely orchestrated the drek attack.
What was next?
“And I need help. I don’t just want to bring them provisions. If it’s possible . . . I would like to see if anyone would volunteer to teach them skills they didn’t need before. How to prepare different types of foods, for example, and a dozen other things I can’t think of. I don’t really . . . I don’t really know—”
“I know someone.”
“What?”
“I know someone who will know some of what they will need,” Oro said.
Her brows came together. “Who?”
“Do you remember Enya?”
Isla remembered the tall Sunling at the dinner with the dark-red hair and freckles. She hadn’t looked unfriendly but not exactly friendly, either. Appraising, maybe.
“She taught Sunlings how to survive in the dark, after the curses. How to set up systems that allowed for crops to still grow, and life to still happen, even though we couldn’t be outside in the daylight. She’s good at coming up with solutions for problems that don’t even exist yet.”
That person sounded perfect. “It sounds like she has been a great Sunling representative.”
“More than that.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Remember I said I had friends?” Oro said.
“It was the shock of my life.”
He gave her a look.
“She’s one of them?” she asked, incredulous. They hadn’t seemed that close at the dinner, but she supposed it had been a serious function.
He nodded. “She’s one of them.”
The Sun Isle castle looked dipped in a pot of gold. Enya sat at the head of a long dining table, with her feet propped up on the chair beside her. Her red hair was tied into a braid. She had an orange peel and a knife in front of her.
They had met before, but Isla was suddenly nervous. She hadn’t known that she and Oro had been friends. Would the woman judge her? Did she know about Oro and Isla’s . . . connection?