Aren said nothing, so she continued. “They made me believe that doing this would save my people. That it was righteous. Now I understand that that’s why they kept me locked up in the compound—so I might never learn the truth. And they believed you would keep me similarly contained so that I would have no chance to learn the truth until it was too late.”
“And what is the truth?”
What was the truth? Lara had no delusions that she was a good person in the way of someone like Marisol. She’d killed Valcottan warriors brought to her compound for no reason other than it was their lives or hers. Learned countless ways to torture, maim, and kill. She’d stood by while the servants who’d cared for her and her sisters since they were children were murdered in cold blood. Had watched while the man who’d been like a father to her slit his own throat out of misplaced guilt. She’d lied and deceived and manipulated, and nearly doomed an entire nation. Good, she was not.
Yet neither did she believe that she was evil. She’d condemned herself to this fate in order to save the lives of her sisters, whom she loved above all things. And once here, she’d followed through with her mission on the belief she was saving her people. Noble motivations, perhaps, except she wasn’t entirely certain that they absolved her of guilt. Knowing what would happen to Ithicana, she’d still written instructions on how to destroy it. She’d made that choice. All she could do now was try to atone. “The truth is . . . the truth is that I am the villain.” But she would play that part no longer.
More silence.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Lara.” With his words, the tension between them ratcheted up. “I’ve . . . suspected for some time now, but hearing you say it . . . I don’t know.”
A frantic fear fluttered in her chest. A fear that she’d lost him. That he hated her. That he’d never forgive her.
“I didn’t give him anything, Aren.” She so desperately wanted to salvage what was left between them. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Haven’t done anything?” He whirled around to face her. “How can you claim that? How can you say you’ve done nothing when, from the moment we were married, you’ve been plotting to stab me in the back? Everything you’ve said, everything you’ve done, everything between us has been a damned lie. A way to manipulate me into trusting you so that you could learn Ithicana’s secrets, then use them against us. All while I, like a bloody fool, was trying to win you over.”
It was the truth, but it wasn’t the sum of it. Because during that time, she’d grown to care about him and his kingdom, to understand their plight, and still she’d chosen to destroy them. Had written every detail she’d learned on those pages, a strategy for invading Aren’s homeland and stealing away the bridge his people so desperately needed. It had only been sheer luck that one of those pages hadn’t made it into her father’s hands.
“Did you care at all?” he demanded.
“Yes. More than you know. More than I can explain.” She shoved the hair that had blown into her face out of her way, grasping for words to make him understand. “But I didn’t think there was another way. I believed the only chance my people had was for me to win them the bridge. My whole life has been dedicated to giving them a better future, no matter the cost to me. Surely you of all people can understand that?”
“It’s not the same.” His voice was cold. “The better future you envisioned was built on the backs of Ithicanian corpses.”
Lara closed her eyes. “Then why didn’t you just kill me once you knew? Why did you bring me to Vencia, if you suspected? Why did you risk so much?”
Aren scuffed his boot against the bridge, staring at Midwatch. “I realized that you’d been misled. And if the truth gave us a chance, then it was a risk I was willing to take.” He let out a ragged breath. “I followed you that night when you walked up to the palace gates. I pointed an arrow at your back, and I . . . I almost did kill you. If you’d taken one more step, I would’ve.” His hands were shaking, the tremor of movement holding her attention like a vice. “But then you turned around and came back. Back to me.”
“I couldn’t do it.” Lara closed her hands over his, needing to stop them from shaking. “And I won’t. Not ever. Not even if he tracks me down and kills me for betraying him.”
Aren went very still. “Did he threaten you?”
She swallowed hard. “He told me on the ship to Ithicana that if I failed or if I betrayed him, he’d hunt me down.”
“If he thinks—”
A scuffle of sound interrupted him, causing them both to jump. Seconds later, with a muttered oath, Ahnna pulled herself out of the hatch, her face a storm cloud.
Aren stepped in front of Lara, walking toward Ahnna even as his sister closed the distance with rapid strides.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Ahnna snapped. “Going into Maridrina yourself? Have you lost your bloody mind?”
“I’ve been dozens of times before. What of it?”
“Not as king you haven’t. You have a responsibility to our people. Plus, you nearly got caught. What the hell would’ve happened if you had?”
“Then you’d have your chance at the crown.”
“You think that’s what I want?” Her eyes went past her brother, landing on Lara. “And there stands the worst of it. Bad enough that you went, but you took the daughter of our enemy, the woman who, if all the rumors are true, you’ve been supplying with all of Ithicana’s secrets, back to her homeland?”
“I took my wife to her homeland for reasons that are none of your goddamned business.”
Ahnna’s face took on a ghastly pallor, but she balled her hands into fists, and for a heartbeat, Lara thought she’d strike her brother. Strike her king. But all she said was, “There is no reason good enough. She knows enough to allow Maridrina to bring us to our knees, and you practically delivered her to its king. She could’ve run straight into the Magpie’s arms.”
“She didn’t.”
“But what if she had? This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to—”
“I was supposed to what?” Aren lunged forward, looming over his sister. “Keep her locked up here forever? She’s my damned wife, not my prisoner.”
“Wife? In name only, from what I hear. And don’t think that everyone doesn’t realize that you’re risking your entire kingdom just to get between her legs.”
No one spoke. Not Aren or Ahnna. Not the soldiers who’d come topside and were now looking anywhere but at their leaders. And not Lara whose heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. Because Ahnna’s fears were valid. Yet Aren was defending her. Despite knowing she’d come to Ithicana with ill intentions, he was defending her right to a life. Her right to a home. Her right to freedom. And she didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve him.
Before Lara could think through the consequences of what she intended to say, she stepped forward, her boots sliding on the slick surface of the bridge. “Ahnna—”
“Stay out of this.” Without looking, the other woman swung an arm to block Lara’s path.
The blow caught Lara in the chest and she stumbled back, feet scrabbling.
She was falling.
“Lara!” Aren reached for her, but it was too late.
She screamed, arms flailing as the air rushed past her, but there was nothing to grab. Nothing that would stop the inevitable.
She slammed against the water, the force driving the wind out of her in a rush of bubbles even as she plunged down and down.
Panic raced through her, wild and unchecked, and on its heels came the desperate need to breathe. She kicked, thrashing her arms, fighting toward the surface that seemed impossibly far away.
You will not die.
You will not die.
You will not . . . The thought faded and the light of the surface began to dim as she sank into the depths.
Until something grabbed her around the waist.
Lara struggled, reaching blindly for h
er knife until her face broke the surface and Aren was shouting in her ear, “Breathe, Lara!”
She sucked in a desperate mouthful of air. And another. A wave rolled over her head, and fear filled her anew.
Clawing and grasping, she tried to climb. Tried to get above the water.
Then Aren’s face was in front of hers. “Quit fighting me. I’ve got you, but you need to be still.”
It was an impossible request. She was drowning. She was dying.
“I need you to trust me!” His voice was desperate, and somehow it cut through her fear. Brought her back to herself. She quit fighting him.
“Good. Now hold on to me and don’t move.”
Grasping his shoulders, Lara forced her shaking legs to still. They were not quite beneath the bridge, perhaps two dozen yards from the nearest pier: the narrow one with no access to the bridge. And the shore . . .
“Can we make it?” she asked, spitting out a mouthful of water as another wave splashed her in the face.
“No.”
“What do we do?” She twisted, looking up at the bridge. She could hear the soldiers shouting, see Jor hanging off the side from a rope, his finger pointing at the water.
“Quit moving, Lara!”
She froze. Because in that moment, she saw what Jor was pointing at. What had Aren’s attention—and his fear.
Grey fins cut through the water.
Circling them.
Moving closer.
“We have to last until they can reach us in a boat.”
Her eyes jerked to the distant pier, the opening still concealed by the tide. Then to the cove where two boats had been launched. There was no way they’d make it in time.
As if to punctuate her thought, one of the sharks darted toward them before veering off at the last second.
“Shit,” Aren snarled.
The creatures were swimming closer, and Lara sobbed as something smacked against her foot.
The soldiers above began firing arrows, the bolts slicing into the water all around them, blood blossoming when they struck true. Then, seemingly as one, the fins disappeared.
“Aren!” Ahnna’s scream echoed from above, and a second later, an enormous fin was slicing through the waves toward them.
“Let me go.” Lara made the decision because she knew he wouldn’t. “Without you, I’ll drown. But if you let it have me, you’ll have a chance.”
“No.”
“Don’t be a fool. We don’t both have to die.”
“Quiet.”
Aren’s eyes were fixed on the circling shark. “I know you, old girl,” he muttered at it before glancing up. “You’ll come in for a taste before you come from below for the kill.”
“Let me go!”
“No.”
Lara shoved away from him, tried to swim, but Aren dragged her back, kicking hard. Pulling her with him.
The shark darted toward them. So fast. Too fast to dodge. Infinitely too fast to out-swim. Fear, primal and base, took hold of her, and Lara screamed.
“Now!”
A steel bolt attached to a cable sliced through the air from above, exploding through the shark’s side, but the creature kept coming as though the instinct to hunt mattered more than the wound it had been dealt.
Lara screamed again, choking on water, watching it drive toward them, mouth opening to reveal row after row of razor-sharp teeth.
The cable attached to the bolt went taunt.
In one violent motion, the shark was ripped out of the water, its enormous body thrashing through the air before it slammed down against the sea, fighting against the cable leashing it to the bridge.
Water surged over Lara’s head, and the shark’s tail slammed against her with the force of a battering ram, tearing her from Aren’s grasp.
She floundered, not knowing which way was up. Not knowing where the shark was. Where Aren was. Bubbles raced past her face, obscuring her vision while she kicked and fought. Then hands closed on her wrist, pulling her to the surface.
“Swim!” It wasn’t Aren’s voice, but those from the soldiers above, Ahnna’s voice loudest of all. “All the blood is drawing them in! Swim, goddamned you!”
He dragged her through the water, the waves growing more violent with every surge. And above, the skies grew darker. Lightning flashed in the distance.
Aren stopped swimming.
He treaded water, his breathing ragged with the effort of supporting them both.
Lara saw what he was looking at.
The nearest pier, bristling with metal spikes, the ocean slamming against it with the ferocity of the coming storm.
“You need to . . . grab . . . one of the spikes,” he gasped. “Don’t let go.”
And without waiting for her to respond, he hauled her toward the pier.
The waves caught hold of them with irreversible momentum, launching her and Aren at the stone and steel.
There would be one chance. Only one chance.
Lara sucked in a deep breath, marking the spike she’d reach for. The steel that would be her salvation or her damnation.
Aren twisted at the last minute, taking the impact. Lara fumbled blind, knowing she had only a second.
Her hand closed on the spike even as she felt Aren let her go.
Holding on took all her strength as the water dragged at her legs, her arms shaking with the effort. For a moment, her body hung out of the water, then the waves crashed into her again. She clung to the metal, managing to get her legs over and around it, breathing as the water retreated again.
“Aren!” She searched the water for him, terror filling her heart.
“Here!”
He was dangling from the spike where it was embedded in the rock. But he wouldn’t last long.
The water pummeled them again, then above the noise, Lara heard her name. Looking up, she saw Ahnna dangling from a rope above, another line in her hand. She swung it in Lara’s direction. “Grab hold!”
The heavy rope whipped past, and Lara reached for it, nearly losing her grip as she did. Again and again the rope swung past her, but she couldn’t reach it.
And Aren was running out of time.
So when the rope swung past once more, Lara lunged, knowing that if she missed, she’d fall in the water and that Aren was past the point where he could help her. But that he’d try anyway.
Her balance wavered, her fingers reaching and grasping and catching hold of the rope.
Lara’s legs slipped and she was dangling. Silently thanking Erik for every pull-up he’d forced her to do during training, she hauled herself up, hooking the loop under her armpits.
Swinging hard, she caught hold of the spike and crawled hand over hand toward Aren, barely keeping her grip as the water surged against her, drowning her with every pass.
“Grab on to me,” she screamed even as a wave knocked her free from her perch.
She swung and slammed against Aren. Instinct had her wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms protesting as his weight dragged against her. Then he was reaching up and gripping the rope.
The sea hurled against them once more, driving them both against rock, and Lara choked and sobbed, knowing she couldn’t hold on any longer. Knowing that one more wave would pull her free.
And it was coming, froth flying toward her. Just before it reached them, the rope jerked and they were rising. Faster and faster. They rotated and swung, Aren pulling himself up so that her legs, still wrapped around him, eased the pressure on her arms.
“Do not let go.” Blood trickled down a cut on his temple. “You will not let go.”
They bumped against the side of the bridge, and Lara whimpered as she was dragged along the rock, but the pain fled in the face of relief as hands grabbed hold of her clothing, hauling her up, laying her down on the solid surface of the bridge. Gasping, she rolled on her side, puking up endless amounts of seawater until all she had the strength for was resting her forehead against the wet stone.
“Lara.” Arms pul
led her upright, and she turned only to collapse against Aren’s chest, clinging to his neck. He was shaking, yet the feel of him against her was more comfort than the solid land beneath her feet.
No one spoke. There were men and women all around them, she knew, but it was as though she were alone with him, the rain from the coming storm pattering against her cheek.
“Aren?” Ahnna’s voice broke the silence, the distant boom of thunder echoing his name. “I didn’t mean . . . It was . . .”
Lara felt him stiffen, felt his anger even as he said, his voice cold, “Get back to Southwatch, Commander. And if I see your face before War Tides, rest assured that I won’t hesitate to fulfill Ithicana’s contract with Harendell.”
Lara turned in his grip in time to see Ahnna jerk as though she’d been slapped. “Yes, Your Majesty.” Without another word, she walked away, her soldiers following on her heels.
Rising on shaking legs, Aren pulled Lara with him. “We need to get back to Midwatch. The storm is coming.”
But as her heart thudded inside her chest, Lara knew that he was wrong.
The storm was already here.
32
Aren
Pulling off the boots he’d borrowed at the barracks, Aren slowly stripped his sodden and torn clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor while he eased across the dark room to the wardrobe to retrieve dry trousers. The shutters rattled against the windows as the wind attacked, the rain drumming furiously against the roof, all of it drowned out by bursts of thunder that shook the house to its foundation. The air was full of the sharp, fresh smell of ozone, blending with the ever-present scent of damp earth and greenery that he associated with home.
Boom. The ground beneath his feet reverberated, the pressure changing as the typhoon descended in full force. This was a beast of a storm—the sort that gave the Tempest Seas their name. With winds so wild and feral they seemed almost sentient, this storm would leave swaths of destruction in its wake, and anyone or anything caught out in the water would be wiped from the face of the earth. Ithicana was built to endure the worst the sea and sky could unleash, and indeed it was only during these tempests that Aren ever truly breathed easy, certain that his kingdom was safe from its enemies.
The Bridge Kingdom Page 28