Isla
She could only blink as Cronan came into her line of sight, blotting out the galaxy behind him to peer down at her.
It was uncanny, the resemblance. Grim was beautiful like a god, and so was his ancestor. Cronan’s hair was cut shorter, though, and topped by that strange, twisted crown, radiating energy like it was forged from a broken universe.
She wrenched her gaze back down to his face. She felt a pang of sadness, thinking of her husband.
She should have told him the prophecy before she left. She should have shared her plan. For so long, she had blamed him for making decisions without her. And though this wasn’t the same, it also wasn’t so different.
She hadn’t told him for the same reason he kept her in the dark before the Centennial—she had been afraid he would stop her.
“My line has grown weak, it seems,” Cronan said, words dripping with disgust as he stared at the diamond at her throat.
He clearly had the power to kill her and claim the stone. So why hadn’t he already?
Isla wondered if he could hear her thoughts, as he said, “Killing you would be easy.” He motioned up toward the sky.
“I’ve destroyed many planets to consume their energy.
But every now and then, I come across a planet that is more useful to keep alive.
To conquer, rather than extinguish.” He looked down at her, and Isla swallowed.
She summoned all her strength to try and break his hold, but she couldn’t move an inch.
“You, Worldkey,” he continued, “are more useful to me alive, for now.” A shadow emerged from his crown and snaked slowly toward her. “The diamond Infinite fights me still. It is an ancient, sentient power. It must choose to be claimed.”
A rush of relief swept through her chest. If that was true, it gave her more time to think of how to get out of this. It meant he was incentivized to keep her alive.
That relief quickly withered when he said, “You wield Infinite. It accepted you to wear it . . . so I don’t need to control the stone.” His head tilted. “When I can just control you.”
Fear slid down her spine. He had a vise on her blood and bones. Could he force her to do anything he wanted? “Look at you,” he said, her very essence shrinking at his approach. “My greatest weapon yet.”
No. She wouldn’t do anything for him. She fought to move, to get out of his hold, but it was useless. Those shadows from his crown just inched closer.
“I know the world you come from. I helped create it. So I know that it has never produced someone as powerful as you. You, who wields abilities from all six realms, who consumes the souls of everyone you have killed, whose heart was fused together by the seed of power we used to make the island.”
Isla’s eyes widened. How did he know that?
Some Nightshades had mind abilities. Had he already plundered hers?
Her chest burned, right on the starlike mark where the arrow had pierced her heart, where the Heart of Lightlark had stitched her back together.
Right where the skyre that she had drained to close the portal had once been.
“I see myself in you,” Cronan said. “Such potential for greatness. For destruction. It’s already within you. But there’s so much more to discover.”
She could do nothing but watch in horror as the shadow struck her forehead—and her world erupted into pain.
Her vision pulsed white, her veins filled with poison.
If she could move her body, she would have been convulsing in agony.
But she could do nothing as those dagger-sharp shadows plunged into her mind, prying, opening, shredding as they went.
Tears slipped down the sides of her face, puddling in her ears.
Cronan’s laugh echoed through her skull. “I know you came here to kill me. But you’re going to join me instead.”
Never.
He heard her objections, and said, “It doesn’t matter what you want . . . when I can shape your mind into whatever I need.”
The watery fear running through her hardened into conviction.
No. She had been through far too much to be controlled by someone else.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t fight, but she formed a fortress in her mind, blocking him out, one built of iron stones forged from her love of everyone she had left behind, and her sheer will to keep this monster from seeing them.
She would be a wall between them. She would stand against him until none of her was left.
Because even if her powers weren’t—her love for them was infinite.
All at once, the shadows were ripped out of her head. Isla gasped in relief, choking on tears clogging her throat.
The galaxy above simmered and whorled as if connected to Cronan’s very emotions. Though his expression remained blank, it was clear he was furious.
In a flash, he forced her into the air, gripping her chin between his fingers as she floated there helplessly.
From this angle, she could see the pieces of her armor in a pile in the corner.
Her father’s armor. The god-bone sat atop it, along with her orb of storms. “You’re going to let me into your head .
. . or I’m going to force my way in,” he said.
“Every lock has a key. Anything can be broken.”
She didn’t doubt that he would get through her defenses. But she would fight him every step of the way.
Cronan tilted his head at her. “It’s going to be painful. It would be easier for us both for you to simply . . . give in.”
It took everything in her to break from his hold enough to whisper, “Never.”
He dropped her suddenly, and she landed hard on her knees. She gasped for breath.
“You’ll change your mind. They always do . . .” Cronan gazed up at his galaxy. “For every lock . . . there is a key . . .” he repeated to himself.
And Isla knew exactly what her key was. She knew what would get her to do anything.
The men she loved.
If Cronan could feel her bond with each of them . . . he might be able to find them. He might be able to portal them here. . . .
Isla wouldn’t let him use them against her. She had already given him enough, just by being here. His sword. The god-bone. Her. She would not give him them.
The bonds between her and them . . . they glistened like bridges. One glimmering gold. One the shade of night. She could feel them, faintly, on the other end, even worlds away.
Love was always taught to be a curse, especially for rulers. It meant giving someone complete access to your power. Leaving yourself vulnerable. For the first time, Isla wondered if the unbreakable power-bond love formed truly was a curse, like nexus.
And if it was a curse . . . with her father’s flair, could she choose to be immune to it?
She would do anything to protect them.
So, though it felt wrong, though it pained her to her core, though it took every bit of energy she could summon from the pit of her strength, Isla reached for those thin threads that still bound her to the men she loved . . .
And severed them.