Step.
Step.
Then a glow caught her attention, burning reds and oranges that made it seem as though the sun were reversing its course through the sky. Squinting, she peered at the glow, her pulse accelerating as she realized it was an enormous signal fire, visible only because it had been lit at the highest point in Ithicana.
And there was only one reason for the Ithicanians to light that flame.
Eranahl was under attack.
55
Aren
“Everyone who can fight, into a boat!” Aren raced down to the beach where his soldiers were already moving vessels into the water.
“We’ve got dozens of injured.” Jor was panting hard trying to keep up. “We can’t just leave them.”
“They’ll manage.” Aren climbed into the boat that Lia, Aster, and the rest of the crew had readied, their masks already in place. He pulled his own loose from his belt, the leather still splattered with blood from the fight to retake Midwatch. “If Eranahl falls, it will be slaughter.”
“It could be a ruse.” Jor climbed in after him. “A way to draw us out and fight us in the open.”
“We’ve already fallen for the ruse. Silas knew we’d pull every soldier into retaking the bridge. He left only enough soldiers behind to ensure we took the bait. And now he’s attacking Eranahl while our backs are turned.”
Aren looked up at the stars, charting his route. All his life, he’d been told that to defeat Ithicana meant taking the bridge, but Maridrina had proven that false. Defeating Ithicana meant destroying its people. Without them, what did the bridge matter?
Silas, it seemed, had learned from his mistakes.
But the King of Maridrina was wrong if he believed he’d won, because Aren refused to let Eranahl fall without a fight.
56
Lara
She needed a boat. Needed to get on the water and make her way to Eranahl. What she could do once she got there, Lara didn’t know.
Didn’t care.
A small jar of glowing algae in hand, she ran with reckless speed down the length of the bridge, moving toward Snake Island where they’d left the boats. Praying they were still there.
Her leg screamed, blood soaking into the bandage wrapped around it, but instead of stopping, Lara shoved a pinch of one of the medicines she’d taken from Nana’s house into her mouth. It was only a matter of minutes until she felt the stimulant take hold, driving away exhaustion and pain and leaving behind nothing but the desire to fight.
She slowed only to peer at the mile markers stamped on the top of the bridge, coming to a stop at the one she knew was near the island. Below, the waves roared onto the beach, smashing against the piers, but all her eyes revealed was blackness.
Lying on her stomach, she listened intently, finally picking up on the sound of water lapping against steel-plated hulls. The boats were still there.
But how to get down to them?
Descending the pier onto the island would be suicide with no way to bait the snakes away from the path. And the next closest pier was designed to deter climbers—she’d only fall and find herself impaled on one of the countless spikes.
The only choice she had was to jump and swim to the sandbar where the boats were moored.
Using algae to mark the side of the bridge above the moored boat, Lara set the empty jar down and started walking until she was over deeper water. The sweat running down her back turned cold as she found the approximate spot where Aren had once jumped, knowing if she misjudged that it would be a fatal leap. Too close to the island and she’d hit the shallows of the sandbar.
Too far out and she’d never make the long swim to the boat, especially if she got disoriented in the darkness.
Or if what prowled these waters came to investigate.
Lara’s heart hammered a rapid beat against her chest, her breath coming in fast little gasps, her terror rising with every passing second. She lifted her gaze to regard the glowing signal flames coming from Eranahl and, taking a deep breath, she jumped.
Air rushed past, the darkness swallowing her as she fell. Then her feet hit the water and she was plunging down into the depths. Down and down, and panic raced like wildfire through her veins.
Swim! You will not die here tonight!
Kicking hard, she swam upward, her chest burning, but then her head broke the surface. Lara gasped in a desperate breath, awkwardly treading water as she rose and fell on the swells, searching for the algae she’d used to mark the bridge.
Paddling with her arms and kicking her legs, she slowly made her way in the direction of the sandbar. She was certain that at any second something would grab hold of her legs and tear her down into the depths, and she shrieked in surprise when her feet hit the bottom.
Standing, Lara splashed to the shallows, hands in front of her until she collided with a boat. Lifting the anchor, she waded out, the water rising to her waist, and then she clambered inside, moving by feel. It was bigger than the vessel she’d used to sail in and out of Ithicana, but she’d watched Aren and the rest of them handle these boats countless times. She could do it.
She had to.
Because she refused to let Eranahl fall without a fight.
57
Aren
“God help us,” Jor muttered, rising to stand next to Aren, both of them staring at the chaos encircling the island.
There were over a hundred ships, but that wasn’t what drew Aren’s attention. It was the numerous fires burning on Eranahl’s slopes. The shipbreakers, the island’s primary line of defense, had been reduced to rubble and ash.
It was a gain, however, that had cost Silas badly.
Ships burned and listed, some sinking, the waves covered with debris. Yet dozens of crafts converged on Eranahl, sailors risking their lives against the towering cliffs as they tossed up grappling hooks.
Aren could make out the shadows of his people fighting to keep them from reaching the top, but archers on the ships were picking them off. The myriad blazes illuminated the sky like it was day.
The only gap in the fleet was near the entrance to the cave leading to Eranahl’s underground harbor, and it was a result of the lone remaining shipbreaker still firing projectiles at any vessel that came close. But the soldiers on land were moving on that breaker. If it fell, the full force of Silas’s fleet would converge on that cave, the portcullis the only thing that would hold them back.
“Harry them from the rear,” he ordered, his words passing to the other vessels. “Keep them distracted.”
“Distracted from what exactly?” Jor demanded.
“From us as we try to get inside.” Retrieving a horn, Aren blew a series of notes, repeating it three times. His personal signal. He waited, his heart in his chest, then Eranahl answered the call. “Go!”
The sails pulled taut and the vessel flew across the waves, Lia guiding them between the ships, heading toward the mouth of the cave while the rest of his soldiers attacked the rear of the fleet, shooting arrows and deploying explosives in the way only they knew how.
But even with the distraction, it wasn’t long until the enemy fleet caught sight of them.