Crowntide by Alex Aster - 88

Isla’s head turned back into place, and the world snapped back into focus. She met Cronan’s ruinous gaze.

And smiled.

Then she unleashed a beam of silver energy from her forehead that sliced through all his shadows like a sparkling blade.

He was thrown across the clearing, his body cutting right through ancient trees with the force. The ground trembled as they fell.

Isla stood from the ground, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Endure , her mother had said. She would do that and more. She would carve a new path, so no one would ever have to endure him again.

He thought he had killed her.

He was going to wish he could kill her .

Cronan didn’t stay down for long. His shadows erupted from his crown, through the gap in the woods, but she was fire and wind and stars and sky and shadow and the ground itself, and the world seemed to bend to her will as the rock in front of her feet rose, the sky fell, and energy ignited in between, shielding her with power forged from every element. It was so bright, she watched Grim turn and shield his eyes.

When the light cleared, Isla was wearing a full suit of sparkling armor. She was holding a sword forged of every shard of her power. And it all seemed to converge into something new. Something stronger.

“You can’t have my world. You can’t have my husband,” she said, taking a step forward. When Cronan’s shadows shot at her again, she blocked them with her sword, the sound producing an ear-splitting howl. “You can’t break me. Not because I’m unbreakable, but because I am not alone,” she said.

With that, the waters of the starlit pool behind her began to ripple. She could feel it as if it was in her own mind. Her consciousness was in two places.

Isla formed a root-spun cage around Cronan, then poured the rest of herself into that pool—the flair she had taken from Lark, the abilities she had been born with, the power she had claimed for herself. Life, death, and everything in between swirled in its midnight waters.

The diamond around her neck began to burn, searing into her skin. The shard of the heart of Lightlark that had stitched her own heart together pulsed, awakening.

Both infinite forces merged, amplifying everything she was.

And she was glorious.

Not unscarred, but unyielding. A flame that refused to extinguish, a night sky that refused to gutter out. A mind and body that was fractured and bleeding but still standing.

Everything in her was focused on that pool. Her arms were stretched wide. Her head was thrown back. It was from this angle that she saw a flash of darkness spiral through the night—pure obsidian, concentrated into a pike. It pierced through every layer of the shield around her. Her fingers flexed, but all her power was focused in the other direction. Cronan had broken free of the cage, and now, he was going to split her mind in half, in so many pieces they might not ever reform the same again. She gasped, bracing for the impact.

In the instant before the pike reached her, a wave of silver energy like liquid metal bloomed in front of Isla, and Cronan’s pike shattered. Isla turned her head to see a familiar face looking back at her, silver hair gleaming as brightly as the energy surrounding her.

“I’ve got your front. You, finish this,” Aurora said, as she turned sharply toward Cronan, unleashing a torrent of power that halted all his incoming shadows midair, then burst them, one by one. “ Go ,” Aurora said, when Isla didn’t move.

It had worked.

Slowly, Isla turned, calling her power back into her body, and saw that the pool was filled with figures, still forming. Her relief was nearly enough to make her sob right here in this forest, but her work wasn’t done yet.

She faced Grim. His posture was rigid as he looked from Cronan to her, as if he was still undecided. Still torn. She reached out her hand. “We need you.” Grim didn’t move. “We—” She took a step forward, just as Aurora was flung through the forest, her energy withering away as she landed in the waters.

Cronan had broken free again. His shadows raced forward, and Isla lifted her arm to form a shield. She felt the impact in her bones as she was knocked off her feet, into the pool, and her vision went black as her head hit the bottom.

Quiet. Everything was so quiet here. She blinked away the darkness, and it only subsided a little as her vision returned. Her world became midnight waters, shifting as limbs moved around her.

The energy she had used to turn death into life, and to release herself of the souls within her, was starting to take its toll. She tried to move—

Then found she couldn’t. The familiar feeling of Cronan’s shadows locked around her wrists and feet, shackling her to the bottom. She tried to move, to fight, but they held firm. Her throat contracted. Her lungs burned. Her vision blurred.

Finally, she couldn’t take it any longer, and water rushed into her mouth.

She drowned.

Again.

Again .

Cronan’s voice spoke into her mind. This is your fate. I will keep you here for all eternity . . . or I will allow you the mercy of death, if you bring me the Sunling king .

Oro? Why would he need Oro? What had Cronan seen in these waters?

No. She refused.

She drowned again. At her sides, the people she had killed—the ones she desperately wished to see—were almost awake.

Do you really think I’m going to let them live? he said. The moment they surface, I’m going to kill them all .

Through the dark water, she saw his shadows forming, becoming daggers above the surface. If he killed them, she didn’t know if she had the strength to bring them back again. Especially not if Cronan kept her in this cycle of death. She was trapped. He had won.

As water filled her lungs again, burning like flames, she turned to the side and saw someone else, at the bottom of the pool, right by her side. Herself, at eight years old. She was drowning too. Her eyes were wide. Her arms were thrashing. No. That little girl had been through enough. Too much, to end up like this.

She hadn’t fought so hard to get to this world, to undo what had been done, for one man to take it all away. He had tried to break her. He had hurt her. But all his attacks only sharpened the blade within her. He had only made her stronger.

Endure .

When the world pushes you down—you push back .

Find your fire .

We are strong , she told the little girl. I remember .

Isla’s hands curled into fists. Her diamond began to glow like a star—fortifying what was left.

She began to build her strength, not through pain but through love. She remembered Oro pulling her out of the fractured pieces of the island. She remembered Grim bringing her back to life.

Love had always been the only thing powerful enough to conquer death. To conquer fate.

She filled herself with every moment between them, every memory, because it was the one thing she had that Cronan didn’t.

Infinite glowed brighter, cutting through the pool, spearing through the darkness. She could see Cronan looking down at her. And in the reflection in his eyes, she saw her own—and saw they were glowing, just like her diamond.

One look from her made all of Cronan’s shadows melt away to nothing.

The light within her grew, flooding through her blood, until her entire body seemed to gleam. One by one, the shackles shattered.

Thank you for showing me just how strong I could be , she said inside his mind. And for teaching me this . Then shadows burst from her mind right into his.

He bellowed. His mind melted beneath her shadowblades, his walls becoming nothing but dust. Why did he need Oro? What was he planning?

Hidden deep below, she found the thing he feared most. The only weapon that could truly kill him. A dagger with a strangely shaped hilt.

Heartblade .

It could kill anyone and anything. Even her, with Lark’s flair. It was the greatest weapon ever forged in this universe.

Her shadows retreated as she stood, breaking through the waters Cronan had repeatedly drowned her in. And she was not alone. All around her, she was surrounded by herself at eight years old, at twelve, at sixteen, at twenty. He staggered back, but she wrapped her power around his limbs, forcing him to his knees. She tilted her head at him. Her voice came from every version of herself standing at her sides, echoing. “I have seen inside your mind, Cronan, and you are just as broken as the metal you wear on your head. Jagged, mismatched, and forged from hate. This crown is made of everything you have ever claimed. It is a crown of bones and ashes. And now . . . it will be your ruin.”

Cronan’s mouth parted into a roar, his endless power lashing out—

As she took it.