Page 47 of Grim and Oro (Lightlark)

SHATTERING

I find my brother in the war room.

He’s frowning down at the depiction of the island. Standing here, poring over his lands ... he looks uncannily like our father.

“Were you not going to tell me?”

A second passes before he looks up.

His eyes are red. Tired. His cheeks are even sharper than usual. It seems to take him a moment to understand what I’m asking. Then he nods. “The marriage,” he murmurs, as if it’s an afterthought.

“You’re betrothed, and you didn’t tell me.”

He shakes his head. Waves the statement away. “It’s political. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It will to Aurora.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose in a gesture that again reminds me of our father. His patient tone is all our mother, though. “What it means to her is not my main concern. My top priority is uniting the realms.”

I stare down at the map myself. It’s inaccurate now. Some of its locations have been decimated. “And you think this marriage will accomplish that?”

Egan nods. “Starling has grown in power. Aurora’s abilities are significant.”

I guess at the meaning behind his words. The fate he hopes to avoid with this marriage. “You’re worried she’ll branch off from the island.”

“It’s a possibility. She has the numbers. Her people are largely self-sufficient.”

“Yes, but she’s in love with you.”

Egan frowns, as if Aurora’s love is a massive inconvenience. He doesn’t bother denying it. Love for rulers is dangerous. It means access to each other’s abilities.

I wonder if he’s felt her powers. I wonder how Aurora feels, never having felt his.

“What of your own feelings?” I ask. He’s still my brother. I’ve watched him have relationships with others for years, provoking Aurora’s jealousy.

His eyes snap to mine. He frowns. “Feelings? My feelings don’t matter.”

I think, for a moment, of another person who buried his feelings. And what that led to.

“It will give the island something to celebrate,” Egan says, looking down at the map. He uses charcoal to cross out the places that were lost. “In the worst of moments, people need something to look forward to.” Royal weddings are elaborate affairs. The celebrations last months.

“So, it’s not happening anytime soon?”

Egan sighs. “Not if I can help it.”

The announcement will, however. My brother will want to instill hope among our people as soon as possible, to make his rebuilding efforts easier. I can’t help but think it’s a good plan—even if it comes at my brother’s expense.

He’s made his choice, however. We aren’t children anymore, playing with wooden swords and joking about what Egan would look like wearing the crown.

It’s on his head right now. Golden and bright.

And—by the looks of his exhaustion—heavy.

Finally, he looks up at me again. “And what of the Nightshade?”

“He isn’t planning anything.”

He blinks in surprise. “You’re sure?”

I nod, and he looks past me. “Good. That’s good. Thank you.”

He returns to his map, and I consider my conversation with the prisoner. Never have I understood more why Grim would rather be in a cell than rule a kingdom.

For the next few days, I think about all that my brother is sacrificing for the good of the island. I’ve never wanted to be king, but now? I see it as the curse it is. Living life for everyone else. Never being able to make a choice that isn’t rooted in duty.

He shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it alone.

I’ll do anything I can to make his role easier. It’s the least I can do. It’s what my mother would have wanted.

I walk into the throne room, resolved to take my next orders now that Grimshaw has been dealt with, and am knocked out of my thoughts by the sound of crying.

No. Crying is too weak a word. This sound, this wailing scrapes against my bones.

A woman is on her knees in front of the king, trembling.

I’m startled to see my brother rise to his feet; he’s not supposed to leave his throne when receiving visitors.

What he does next breaks every rule of decorum. He approaches the woman, then kneels in front of her and grabs her hands.

“I am truly, truly sorry.”

I take a step closer and—

Agnes . His guardian. Why is she crying? I rush forward.

Her sobs echo through the gilded room. “I will go myself—I will go ,” she says, tears giving way to a voice forged of pure and unyielding strength.

“It will mean your death,” my brother tells her gently.

“I am dead without her.”

Without her .

My blood goes cold. I spot Enya at the side of the room and grab her arm. “What happened?” I demand, though I fear I already know.

“Her daughter snuck into the Midnight Woods.”

Ara . The daughter she fought to have. The baby with red cheeks that we all took turns holding. On Lightlark, babies are honored, even coveted.

No . Agnes is a valued guardian and member of her realm.

Egan cares for her. He would send any warriors to go find Ara, if there was a chance of recovery.

But now I understand why my brother isn’t ordering guards to go find her.

I understand why he’s telling her that it would be a death sentence.

Those Star Isle woods have been overtaken by night creatures for centuries.

If Ara’s still alive, she won’t be soon.

“She’s still screaming,” Agnes says, her racking sobs making her teeth chatter. Her skin is gray in pallor. Until now, I’ve never seen her cry, not once. “She’s still—she’s still living.”

I close my eyes sharply. Not for a second can I imagine the pain of hearing your child screaming, knowing they still live, knowing there is still hope ... yet it being impossible to save them.

No. Not impossible.

Enya turns to me, as if she read the tensing of my body and can tell what I’m thinking.

Of course she can. She knows me better than I know myself.

“You don’t think—”

“Yes,” I say.

There is one person on this island who could potentially stand against a forest full of night creatures left over from when Nightshade was still part of this island.

She frowns. “And your brother? Would he let you?”

I think about that. Then I nod. “He trusts me,” I say.

It’s true, though another thing is certain: I don’t trust Grim for a second.

He raises his head as I enter. It’s been days since I was last here, and he looks thinner than before. Weaker. There isn’t a hint of color in his features.

He frowns when he sees me. “Interesting. Such a range of emotions ... you want something, don’t you?”

I work my jaw, wondering what this demon is going to ask for. Wondering what I’ll give him. Agnes has been a second mother to me my entire life. She’s the most selfless person I’ve ever met. My mother—she loved her . She was there, by her side, when Ara was born.

“Did you ever have a guardian that took care of you like she was your parent? That looked out for you?”

He blinks, as if batting away the cobwebs he’s put on his own memories. A second passes. Another. Finally, he nods.

Interesting.

“My brother’s guardian tried for decades to have a daughter until she finally did. She’s her entire world. She, of anyone, deserves this happiness.” I take a step toward the cell. “Her daughter has gone into the Midnight Woods.”

He looks at me blankly. Of course, he doesn’t know what I mean.

“It’s a place on Star Isle that’s been overrun by shadow creatures.”

Grim, to his credit, does not take any amusement from the situation, even though I have come to plead for his assistance. Instead, he curses. Shakes his head. “She won’t survive long.”

“Her mother thinks she’s still alive,” I say.

But she won’t be for much longer .

Grim’s eyes are fixed on mine. I stare him down through the bars on his cell, looking for anything— anything— to change my mind. To remind me why this is the world’s biggest mistake.

“Help us,” I say. Then I utter a word I never thought I would speak to any Nightshade, let alone this one. “Please.”

He does not respond. All he does is shake his arms, so the chains clink together. “I won’t be useful tied to a wall.”

“Then you’ll help us.” It’s a statement, but I still need to hear his answer.

“Yes,” he says sharply.

I need more assurances. I’m taking a risk that could affect the entire island. “If I let you out, will you betray us?”

He takes his time with this answer, as if he’s sifting through various possibilities. “No,” he finally says. Truth .

I unlock the cell.

I brace myself; part of me believes that despite his answer, he’ll crush me under his shadows. But when his chains fall free, Grim steps slowly out of the cell. He frowns toward the sunlight streaming through the open doorway at the end of the hall.

“I have one condition,” he tells me, as we walk toward it.

I scowl. “And you waited until now?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Of course I do. “What is it?”

“I work alone. I don’t want any of your ridiculous warriors or friends weighing me down.”

I consider Egan. He only let me secure the Nightshade’s support because I insisted he’d be accompanied, to guarantee he doesn’t simply flee to Nightshade.

“I won’t send them,” I agree. “But I’m coming with you.”

Grim sighs. “Great. More time together. I’d rather be back in that cell.

” Still, he keeps walking. The dungeon entrance leads to an external stairway that curls around the mountain from which the prison was built.

He blocks the sun with a hand, grimacing.

His eyes narrow. “Don’t slow me down,” he says.

And then he shoots off the cliff, in a stream of shadows.

I sigh. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? Then I leap into the air, flying after him.

His shadows don’t work as well as my ability to fly. We soar only to the edge of the Mainland. Then, we hurry toward Star Isle on foot. Grim races down the bridge without a moment’s hesitation.

We’re not the only ones on the path. As we approach a group of Starling nobles, dread pierces my stomach. There’s no time to explain why the prisoner is walking free, or what I’m doing next to him. I brace myself for their horror or questions—