“Jor tells me that you should be able to put this together,” she said.
“He’s alive?”
“Was the last time I saw him. He said that if you can’t build this, then perhaps you deserve your fate. I’m Bronwyn, by the way.”
Not answering, Aren dropped to his knees, sorting through pieces while the women pulled on the Maridrinian uniforms that had been hidden in one of the chests.
Lara set clothes and boots next to him. “Move quickly,” she said. “It’s already been five minutes.”
As if he needed more pressure. Sweat beaded on his brow as he fitted together the pieces of the weapon, using the small tools to twist screws and tap parts into place. Seconds rolled by. Then minutes.
“Hurry,” one of the sisters muttered, but Aren ignored her, focusing on the task at hand.
“There.”
Lifting the large crossbow, he tested the mechanism twice to ensure it worked, then picked up the single bolt that had been part of the artwork. While he’d been building, the tall brunette called Bronwyn had taken apart the hollow frame that had encased the artwork, revealing a line of rope, which she handed over.
“You sure this is long enough?” he asked as he pulled on the clothing, shoving his feet into the boots.
She only lifted one eyebrow, then nodded to the balcony. “Time to live up to your reputation, Your Majesty.”
“You just don’t want to miss the shot.”
She smirked. “Pretty and clever. I should’ve fought harder to be the one to marry you.”
“Enough, Bronwyn,” Lara muttered. “Save it for when we are free of this place.”
Shaking his head, Aren eased open the door to the balcony, keeping low as he crept out to peer through the wrought iron railing. Below, the courtyard was completely concealed with mist, which had risen high enough to float around the boots of the soldiers swarming the inner wall. The exterior wall was also well manned, but their focus was on the enormous mob surrounding the palace, the civilians screaming Aren’s name and demanding his liberty.
Lara dropped to her knees next to him, face shadowed by the hood of her coat. But even over the smell of blood, there was no mistaking the sweet scent of her filling his nose, her presence too familiar to be any of the other women.
He shifted away, focusing on the domed roof of the guard post on the corner of the inner wall. This was potentially the fatal flaw in his plan. A few of them might be able to get down the zipline before the guards noticed, but not all of them. And the second the soldiers saw them, they’d have a fight on their hands.
“It won’t work.” Lara said quietly. “You need to get us all the way to the exterior wall.”
He looked to where her finger pointed: the exterior wall guard tower, the structure made of stone and nothing else, never mind that it was a good fifty feet farther than his intended target. “Impossible.”
“Jor said it’s not.”
“There’s nothing for me to hit. That guard tower is made of solid stone—the bolt will bounce right off.”
“You just need to shoot it through that window,” she said. “My sisters should have taken the guard tower by now. They’ll signal as soon—” She broke off as two quick flashes of light shone through the narrow slit of the window.
“It’s a long shot.” And he’d have to make it the first time. There’d be no dragging the bolt back across the palace grounds for a second shot. “There is no chance the soldiers on the wall won’t notice us flying over them, Lara. We’ll be easy targets for their archers to pick off. It’s a shitty plan. We’re trapped.”
“If you don’t think you can make the shot,” she said, “then give the damned thing to me. As for the rest, our people have arranged for a distraction.”
“Our people?” It wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. But the months they’d been apart had done nothing to temper his fury over her betrayal. “Would those be the people who lost their homes? Their loved ones? Their lives? Because of you. They are not yours.”
Lara jerked back the hood of her coat, turning on him. “Save the dramatics for once we’re out of here. Ithicana has put nearly every resource it has left into this rescue, and it would be a shame to waste everyone’s efforts because of semantics.”
“Lara, they’re ready.” Bronwyn’s voice cut through the tension, and in the distant hilltops, Aren caught sight of a light flashing again. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Can you make the shot or not?”
Aren lifted the crossbow, aiming at the guard tower. “I’ll make it.”
“Five. Four. Three,” Bronwyn counted. “Two—” Her whisper was drowned out by an explosion in the city that sent the tower shuddering. Then another explosion and another. Blasts of brightness illuminated the dark sky, Aren’s eardrums ringing from the noise.
“Now,” Lara said, and he took a deep breath, focusing on the tiny opening. Then let the bolt fly.
It shot through the air, cable trailing out behind it, and as it flew, more explosions rattled the city. Beneath them, the soldiers were shouting, organization turning to chaos with the belief the city itself was under attack. But Aren barely heard them. Barely saw them. “Come on. Come on.”
The bolt flew through the window.
Bronwyn reached over to pat him on the cheek. “Oh, you are magnificent.”
Aren jerked away, glaring at her.
Two of the other sisters tied the cable off, tension rising as they waited for whoever was in the guard tower to do the same on their end. Then a light flashed.
Lara and her sisters all had hooks identical to those they used in Ithicana, and Lara held one out to him. “I’ll go first. Then you.” Her eyes flicked to her sisters. “Don’t lose your nerve.”
Taking a firm grip on the hook’s handle, she placed it over the cable.
“Wait.” Aren reached for her, having seen lines fail before. Having seen his soldiers fall, though usually it was into the water, which meant they survived. No one would survive a fall into the courtyards below. “Let me—”
Another explosion lit up the night sky, and Lara jumped.
Aren’s stomach dropped. He gripped the railing, watching as Lara soared silently downward, picking up speed as she went. Don’t look up, he prayed silently as she flew over the wall, only a dozen feet over the soldier’s heads. Don’t look up.
But luck or fate was with them, and the panicked soldiers kept their gaze on the misty gardens and courtyards below, where they assumed Aren to be hiding.
Nearing the guard tower, Lara reached up with a gloved hand to slow her progress. Her feet struck the stone, and she paused to ensure no one had noticed her presence. Then she pulled herself on top of the tower, where she perched, hidden in the shadows.
“Go!” Bronwyn gave him a gentle push between the shoulders and, glancing down to confirm no one was looking up, Aren jumped.
20
Lara
She couldn’t breathe as he flew over the misty palace, black clothing rendering him almost invisible in the moonless night. More explosions rattled the earth, the air thick with smoke. Outside the wall, the mob had turned to chaos, people screaming, but she spared them no attention.