Oro
He was alone on his balcony, staring worriedly out at the horizon instead of resting like his friends thought he was, when he saw Isla materialize in front of him.
Isla. Her appearance alone was like a balm—but also a pain. She was the fever and the medicine.
Especially when he noticed the tears on her face . . . and the blood stain on her sleeve.
She spoke quickly, like she wasn’t sure how much time they had.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I haven’t been able to get Lark to tell me where my portaling device is.”
Oro tried to keep the despair he felt from showing. There wasn’t any point in upsetting her more.
These last few days had been just endless disappointment. Wall after wall to break down, he himself becoming a wall between these beasts and his island.
A person could only take so much. Even Cinder was weakening. She was exerting too much of her energy, so Oro had sent her and Maren to Star Isle two days prior, where they were safer, so she could rest. His friends were injured in the last attack.
Now it was just him, standing between worlds. Trying to keep the door open, while not letting anything else in.
It was a certainty that he would fall. He couldn’t do it alone. He needed more help.
“Do you think it’s on Nightshade?” he said. Lark had gotten there from Lightlark, after all.
“Most likely.”
He frowned. Well, then he would have to go find it himself. “I’m going to fly there,” he said. “I’ll look for it.” The journey would take days, but he had no choice—they needed that portaling device.
He stood. He would get Cinder and have her and his friends stand watch. They’d had days to recover.
“Wait!” Isla’s voice stopped him. “Lark said you’ll never be able to find it without her.”
Oro’s eyes closed. Of course the witch would have hidden it deep underground, or somewhere else he couldn’t even imagine.
They didn’t have time. Every hour mattered.
Cronan’s attack was just days away. If he flew to Nightshade and still couldn’t find it . . . he might not even have enough time to return to Lightlark before Cronan invaded.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Isla, curled against the ground, body coiled. He knew her—he knew that she was lost in her mind. Likely hating herself for all the mistakes she always put solely on her own shoulders. She was slipping away. Losing strength.
But he needed her to keep fighting—for all of them on Lightlark. And for herself.
“Then I guess you’ll have to convince her some other way,” he said.
It was a challenge. He waited, hoping it was enough to reignite the fire within her that had always been like that forever flame on Sun Isle.
It never went out. Ever. Even when all chances and circumstances seemed stacked against her.
If it went out now . . . their world was well and truly doomed.
Isla parted her lips as if to make another excuse. But slowly, she lifted her chin. Her spine straightened. “I will,” she said, her voice steady.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll be waiting.”