If Aren was being subjected to the same, she couldn’t have said, because she barely saw him. Partially it was because he spent every waking minute strategizing, but she knew the true reason was that he was avoiding her. And though she knew he hadn’t had a choice, his conversation with Aster had haunted her.
Not his wife.
Not his queen.
Not his.
“You ready?”
Lara jumped, turning to find Aren standing behind her. He was back to wearing Ithicanian garb, but his hair was still long, dark locks brushing against his cheeks. A machete was belted at his waist and his bow was slung over his shoulder, along with a full quiver.
He handed over her sharp sword, the blade glinting. “It’s time.”
Lia, having recently rejoined them, stood in the boat. With the young woman were Jor, Aster, and three other Ithicanians, and beyond, another vessel filled with soldiers floated in the lagoon, waiting for them. Lara clambered inside, moving instinctively to where she’d be out of the way, Jor and Aster taking up the paddles to move them between the narrow cliffs.
A heavy mist hung over the calm water, reducing visibility to a few paces in either direction. No one spoke louder than a whisper as they meandered through the islands.
Aren knelt next to her, bow resting across his knees. His face was expressionless, but little signs betrayed his nerves to her. The way he bounced the bow against his knee. The way the muscles in his jaw tightened, then relaxed. The way his eyes jerked toward any sound.
Then his gaze came to rest on her, and Lara’s heart skipped as he said, “We’re going to take Gamire.”
Gamire was Nana’s island. “Why not Midwatch?”
“It’s where they’re keeping the prisoners. We’ll free them and take control of the island, then move on to Midwatch tomorrow.”
Midwatch was a strategically better target, but she understood why he’d made this choice.
Pulling a mask from his belt, he handed it to her. “For the fight. Once we’re on top of the bridge, keep close. Follow my lead.”
“Don’t stab anyone in the back,” Aster muttered. Neither she nor Aren reacted to his barb. Now was not the time.
The bridge appeared through the mist, a shadowy gray shape winding its way above them. The Ithicanians lowered the sails, the boats drifting toward one of the piers rising out of the ocean. Spikes jutted out from all angles, preventing the vessels from coming too close, and above those, the rock was so smooth that not even the best of climbers would be able to scale the slick surface.
But at the front of the boat, Lia was pulling off her boots, a length of slender cable looped around her neck and one shoulder.
“There’s an opening below the surface,” Aren murmured, his breath against Lara’s ear sending a slight shiver down her body. “She’ll swim up it, then climb the interior of the pier, where there’s access to the bridge top. She’ll drop the rope, and the rest of us will climb.”
“Why climb? Why not swim down?”
Leaning over the edge, Aren pointed as a large shadow passed beneath their boat. And it wasn’t alone. Fear prickled up Lara’s spine as she watched the enormous sharks circle the pier.
But Lia showed no concern, one hand resting against the mast as she watched the water. The other boat was some distance away, and Lara watched as they pulled still-flopping fish from a sack, along with a bucket that she suspected was full of blood.
“Lia’s fast,” Aren said softly. “She’ll only need a few seconds to get down and inside the pier.” His eyes flicked to the woman in question. “Ready?”
Lia nodded, and Aren lifted his hand to signal the other boat. One of the soldiers tossed the blood into the water, then they began throwing the dying fish into the mix, the creatures making splats against the surface.
Lara’s attention jerked to the depths below, the large shapes darting in the direction of the disturbance.
Lia bent her knees, ready to dive.
Then voices filtered down from above.
Lunging, Lara caught hold of Lia’s hand and pulled her back, slapping a hand over her mouth when she started to protest. With the other, she pointed up and mouthed, “Patrol.”
Everyone in the boat went still, Aren gesturing to the other crew for silence as they listened.
Lara could pick up male voices, though the bridge itself was too high above for her to hear what they were saying. Or for her to determine how many of them were there.
But Aren shook his head, his hands moving in silent signals telling the other boat to move away from the pier and out into open water.
Only when they were a distance away did he swear and slam his fist down on the edge of the boat. “Of all the places they could choose to have lunch, it had to be there.”
“Is there another pier we can use?” Lara asked.
“None near Gamire,” Jor answered. “And we’re on a tight schedule.”
“There’s one.” All heads turned in Aren’s direction. “It’s closer, so even with the delay, we’ll keep to the timeline.”
“No,” Jor said flatly. “We’ll find another way.”
“We don’t have another way,” Aren snapped. “At least not one that keeps to the timeline. We need to come in from the bridge top and take out the Maridrinians manning Gamire’s shipbreakers, or when our people attack, they’ll be sitting ducks.”
“We go farther south, then. There’re a couple piers we can climb. If we move fast—”
“The Maridrinians aren’t stupid. They’re patrolling the bridge top. How many would we have to fight in order to get back to Gamire? What are the chances they wouldn’t get a signal off that we’re attacking? This is the only way.”
Jor’s face was red. “I said no. I’m too slow, and I’m not risking any of this crew to that sort of nonsense.”
“It should be me anyway,” Aren said. “I’m the fastest.”
It was then that Lara realized just how Aren was suggesting they reach the bridge top.
Snake Island.
Right as Jor snarled, “Not a goddamned chance,” Lara said, “I’ll do it.”
Both men stopped their argument to stare at her, as did the other Ithicanians in the boat.
“I’ll do it,” she repeated. “I’m fast, and I’m a good climber.”
Lia whistled through her teeth in obvious approval, but Jor shot her a look that silenced any further outbursts. But he couldn’t silence the way the Ithicanians were looking at her with interest.
Aren’s jaw worked back and forth. “It’s harder than it looks, Lara. And if one of the snakes gets its teeth into you, there is no way for us to help. You won’t make the climb before the paralysis kicks in, and if the fall doesn’t kill you, one of the bigger snakes will finish the job. And you need to do it all while carrying rope.”
She shrugged, hoping the gesture hid the skitter of fear working its way up her spine. “No great loss to you if I die. And if they’re busy trying to eat me, then it might give you a better chance of making the climb yourself.”
“She’s got a point,” Jor said. “But it’s your call.”
Aren said nothing, but in his eyes, Lara could see him warring with the decision, knowing how it would look if he risked anyone else, including himself, in her place. Finally, he said, “Let’s go.”