It stole her breath.
From ahead, Opulus called out:
"We will take the lesser-traveled way to the Queen’s Island. Queen Samil wishes for your return to be kept secret—for now."
Luella couldn’t help but feel a niggling of fear. Another palace, another kingdom… another ruler. Did the Queen of the Fallen Isles have ill intentions, as well? Or was her kindness true?
She couldn’t let the thoughts simmer for long, for they had reached their destination—the heart of the Fallen Isles.
"How extraordinary," Luella breathed in rapture.
The jagged mountains released their hold as the waterway opened up into a gorgeous scene fit for a painting. A wide circle, so vast that the edges were shrouded with mist from low-hanging clouds, obscured. How big was this place? A litany of islands, both big and small, dotted the expanse. Some were flat and sandy, others filled with trees and huts made from bark and straw. All were connected by swinging bridges, swaying in the humid breeze.
Toward the edges, where Opulus led them, the green mountains towered above, sloping downward and growing thick with trees that were so tall, they blotted the little sun that shone through the darkening clouds. The trunks were large, impenetrable, and as her head tipped back to stare up, up, up, she saw how even more swinging bridges connected the trees intheir tops, leading from one platform to another. But no way to get up there.
It is a kingdom of winged creatures, pet,Bastian murmured in her mind. She welcomed his presence inside her, no longer furious that he would steal into her thoughts. The door was always open, now. It had started truly in their solitude, but the yearning had been forged before that, she liked to think.
Oh, she thought back to him, the sound echoing between them.
One thought she could not let him hear, but somehow, she knew he did anyway:
Could I one day fly like the Queen?
Their boats skirted the edges, sticking close to the mountainous circumference. Her eyes strained, searching for the islands that dotted the expanse. There were flashes of darkness in the sky, hovering low over the water, so far in the distance, they looked like specks.
Though, she knew they were the Fallen.
Opulus led them further still, and finally, when the islands connected with the bridges were far behind, a new island loomed, larger and imposing in all its glory.
The Queen’s Island. It had to be.
A large island, jutting above the rest with a rocky base, ripe with the same towering trees, all wrapped around the centerpiece—a castle crafted of white stone, steps leading up toward it, fit into the side of the rock. It appeared open and breezy, stone columns spiraling upward all around, vines wrapped around them as if nature did not wish to leave the structure free from its touch.
There were many other islands grouped around it, all with the same bridges swinging over the water—higher here, as these islands were much taller than the others they had passed—the Queen’s Island, the cornucopia in which they all orbited.
They passed closely to one such island, the rock at the base wet from the water that lapped against it, sea foam curling around as the waves splashed. It made the boat rock, and her hand shot out, fingers curling in Tharen’s shirt on reflex. He stiffened, peering back to look at her with heat in his gaze.
Her lower lip trembled, and she released him, looking away with a blush suffusing her cheeks.
A shadow crept over the water, an ominous creaking noise making her head snap up, only to find a bridge above them, rocking in the wind, dim light filtering through the slats of the wood.
As they passed on the other side, Opulus directed their boats to the left, toward an island with a larger number of trees than the others. Green filled the expanse of it, crafted stone wrapped around the base in adornment.
Their boat stopped at a gate, anchored by two swirling pillars of white stone, steps leading straight out from the water, up into the heart of the green island. Birds chittered, joined by the faint hum of insects.
Her cloak stuck to her back uncomfortably, sweat at her nape.
The boat rocked as the tip hit the stone lip of the first step, water splashing the backs of her hands.
"We’re here," Opulus called. "Disembark. You can leave your boats here."
Tharen lifted a curled rope resting on the wooden base of the boat, stepping out onto the stairs as he tied the rope to one of the pillars. He turned, then, holding out a hand.
"Princess," the Prima murmured.
Luella took his hand, letting him pull her out of the boat and against him. Her legs wobbled at the feel of even ground under her. The others left the boat, as well, scattering about the steps, with Graves at the very bottom, heels close to where the stepended and water began, as if he wished to fall back into it and disappear.
He met her eyes, and she looked away—again.
