Those at the oars didn’t have to row long until the current caught hold of the longboat and driftwood, tugging them toward the orange glow of torches illuminating the entrance to the island. Keris’s heart thudded with increasing violence as they approached, his mouth dry and his hands like ice.
What if this didn’t work?
What if he was seen?
Flickers of motion in front of the torches spoke to the number of Valcottan soldiers guarding the half-moon-shaped pier. Soldiers who’d be armed to the teeth and skilled enough to put a dozen arrows in his back as he floated past.
“Close enough,” Aren muttered, and the oars dipped into the water, rowing backward to keep the longboat in place. The logs they towed floated around them.
“Last chance to retreat,” Aren said. “Once you’re in the water, there is no turning back.”
“My only path leads to her.” Flipping his legs over the edge, Keris slipped into the water.
It felt like knives were stabbing him all over, stealing his breath and sending a slice of panic through his veins. Instinct demanded he climb back into the boat, but Keris forced himself to swim, taking hold of the trunk with the most branches. Water swirled around him, the driftwood jostling, and his breath caught.
“Don’t forget to keep your legs moving,” Aren whispered. “If you stay still, you’re going to freeze.”
The crew didn’t wait for his response, only released the driftwood. The tree moved toward the glowing pier.
The only sound was the slap of water against wood. The surf should have been loud, but rather than an ebb and surge, it felt as though he were caught in a river flowing silently into hell. All around was blackness, the moon hidden by a cloud.
Trust the current, he told himself. You know exactly where it flows.
Yet it felt like he was alone in a vast sea of nothingness, swimming in every direction but none, never reaching his goal.
Splash.
Keris jerked, looking back to the longboat, but it was lost to blackness. What had splashed? What was in the water with him?
Something brushed his leg, and he froze. A shark? Something worse?
The water swirled around him, and Keris heard something take a breath. He swung wildly, his fist finding air, then water, then flesh. A grunt of annoyance, then Aren’s voice hissed, “Calm the fuck down. You’re panting like a dying dog. They’re going to hear you.”
“What are you doing here?”
“There is no chance you won’t get yourself killed if you go in alone,” Aren said. “And I owe Zarrah. Now shut up before someone hears you.”
Keris clenched his teeth, willing his breathing to steady, hunting for calmness in the storm of emotion he felt.
“Don’t move,” Aren whispered. “Keep low.”
Voices filtered over the water. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, but the tone was of soldiers bored out of their minds and putting in the least possible effort.
Or perhaps that was just Keris’s wishful thinking.
The tree floated into a pool of golden light.
Keeping utterly still, Keris rolled his eyes to the right. Six guards, four men and two women, stood on the pier, all dressed in heavy cloaks of Valcottan violet, weapons glittering at their waists and bows slung over their shoulders. One of them glanced at the tree, and Keris allowed himself to sink beneath the water, the cold making his teeth clench.
His heart throbbed as the tree floated beneath the pier, but he remained submerged until the brilliant glow of torchlight faded before lifting his head and sucking in a mouthful of air. They hadn’t been spotted, but they were far from out of danger.
The current picked up speed, drawing the driftwood between the gaps in the cliffs. And into the unknown.
Casting his eyes skyward, Keris marked the glowing basins of oil hanging from brackets and the archers walking the cliff tops, eyes on the water below.
“Hang on,” Aren muttered. “This is going to get rough.”
The channel of water cut through the rock like a river through a mountain ravine, winding inland. Flecks of spray rose in the air as the channel narrowed, and with every second, they picked up speed.
Crack!
The trunk of the tree struck the bend in the rock, and the whole thing spun. His nails scratched the wood as he struggled to keep a grip, vision filled with light and water. The tree struck the cliff wall again, branches snapping off as the trunk twisted around.
Keris swore and was rewarded with a mouthful of water. Coughing, he tried kicking to drive the tree away from the cliff wall, but the force of the water was too great.
They were going to hit again, and hard.
He lifted his feet in time to take some of the impact, but his knees buckled. The branches smashed upward, bits of wood striking him in the face as they rebounded off the wall, spinning in a circle.
Crack!
He hissed in pain as the tree struck rock again, his shoulder taking the impact as Aren slammed up against him.
How far had they traveled?
How much farther did they need to go?
Keris hazarded a glance up. Pools of light whipped past, but if archers watched, it was impossible to see through the spray.
Crack!
Horror filled him as the tree split, the half Aren clung to spinning away.
Then a monstrous wave slammed into them from the right, sending the driftwood spinning round and round before the violence of the water eased. Gasping in a breath, Keris fixed his eyes on a rocky beach illuminated by more basins of oil. He couldn’t see the cliff tops from this angle. Couldn’t tell if the guards were watching.
But they were running out of time.
The current was taking them around the island, and once they reached the end of the beach, there’d be no getting out. They’d be sucked into a drowning machine. They needed to get on that beach.
Then mist began to rise from the water.
In the dim light, Keris saw Aren dumping out the contents of a waxed package, the powder seeming to turn to mist as it mixed with the water. Not enough to cause alarm, but hopefully enough to provide them cover.
Aren abandoned his shattered piece of driftwood and swam hard for shore. Keris clenched his teeth and followed.
There was no point in looking up. No point in looking back. This would work or it wouldn’t.
Keris swam like he never had before, panic fueling his strength. Then his hands struck rock, pain slicing up his wrists, which he ignored as he clambered to his feet.
Faster.
Doing his best to remain silent, he waded inland but then hit the beach at a run, chasing Aren up the slope and not stopping until they were into the trees.
Keris dropped to his knees, dragging in ragged breaths. Aren was crouched next to him, equally winded, and Keris asked him, “You all right?”
“I’m fucking freezing. We need to find a way to warm up.”
“If you wanted someone to cuddle, you should’ve brought your wife. You aren’t my type.”
Aren huffed out a breath. “It’s amazing you’ve lived this long, given the shit that spews from your mouth.”
There was no arguing that point, so Keris focused on calming his pounding heart. Wasted effort, for it only hammered faster. Zarrah was here, on this island, which meant he was closer to her than he’d been since that fateful moment on Southwatch. Yet as he took in the shadowed forest, the only sounds the roar of the water and the rustle of the wind through the branches, he felt further from her than he’d ever been. “It feels bigger than I’d thought it would be.”
Aren grunted in agreement. “You have that package I gave you? We need to signal the ship while it’s still dark.”
Keris dug into his coat, then made a face. “It’s gone. Lost it in the water.”
“Might be just as well. I’m not sure we want to draw attention to the island.” Aren rose from his crouch. “My bet is that the prisoners have formed at least one camp. We’ll pose as new convicts until we can find Zarrah, then wait for Lara to figure out a way to get us free. Keep your weapons hidden.”
Neither of them moved.
For his part, it was because Keris had no clue which way to go.
“Lost already, are you?”
He could feel the smirk on Aren’s face even if he couldn’t see it. “You’re the king of the jungle—you lead the way.”
Aren laughed softly, then turned on his heel and walked without hesitation through the forest. Keris followed him, trying to curb the anticipation rising in his chest.
How would Zarrah react? There was a chance she’d follow through on her promise and kill him. But she wouldn’t want to risk Aren, which he hoped would temper her reaction long enough for him to explain himself.
Just what, precisely, needs explaining? the voice in his head whispered. What can you say to her that hasn’t already been said?
I’ll tell her that I’m sorry, he answered. That I regret betraying her confidence. That I shouldn’t have burdened her with so many lives lost to spare hers.
The voice cackled in his head, wild and maniacal, like the Magpie’s laugh just before he jumped. A hollow apology, given that you are risking lives for her again.
It’s—
Keris broke off his internal argument with himself as his skin prickled. He glanced over his shoulder, searching the darkness for what had triggered his instincts. “Did you hear something?”
Aren paused. “All I hear is you. Do you think you can take one step without snapping a twig?”
“Price one pays for growing up civilized,” Keris muttered even as he hunted for motion. Hunted for eyes watching from the shadows. But there was nothing. “I…it’s nothing. Keep going.”
“I can smell the smoke from their fires,” Aren said, starting back down the trail. “Try to be quiet so that we can—”
Aren’s words cut off as he was jerked skyward, a loud crack filling the air.
Keris stumbled backward, gaping at Aren, who was tangled in some form of net. A trap.
“Cut me down, you idiot!”
Keris moved, grasping the netting and immediately recoiling. “This isn’t rope. It’s—”
“It’s gut,” Aren hissed. “Cut it. There’s a chance they heard their trap deploy.”
Reaching for the knife hidden in his boot, Keris abruptly froze as something sharp jabbed him in the back.
“Pretty faces,” a voice lisped. “We’d like to add them to our collection.”