Arrows whistled past his head, forcing them all to duck low, only Lia staying upright where she manned the rudder. Then she shrieked in pain, clutching at her arm. Pulling her down, Aren took hold of the rudder himself to guide them into the dark opening, the rattle of chains filling his ears.
“Hold on,” he shouted. The speed they were sailing at verged on suicidal as they hurtled into the cavern, arrows thudding into wood and bouncing off rock.
The boat slammed against the side of the cavern wall, the outrigging smashing, and Aren nearly fell into the water, but the momentum was enough to keep them moving forward.
Beyond, he could see the lights from his people on the other side of the rising portcullis, weapons in hand and faces grim.
And for good reason. Behind him longboats were rowing in pursuit, all of them full to the brim with soldiers.
The mast caught on the half-raised portcullis. “Jump!” he shouted.
With Lia suspended between him and Jor, they all dived into the water, swimming beneath the already lowering portcullis toward the arms of friends waiting to haul them in.
The air filled with the splintering and cracking of the boat as the portcullis smashed into it, dragging it down into the depths, arrows from the encroaching longboats pinging off the heavy steel.
Ducking behind his people’s shields, Aren crouched over Lia, examining the arrow wedged in her bicep. Her face was twisted with pain, but she said, “I’ve had worse. Find me a knife and I’ll fight.”
“Take her back,” he ordered the soldiers in the boat, and without waiting for a response, he jumped into the neighboring vessel, sending both of them rocking wildly.
Half of those in the boat were shooting arrows at the enemy, the rest holding shields and wielding spears to ward off the Maridrinians just beyond the portcullis. An arrow whistled past his ear, and Aren ducked down between two soldiers.
“How kind of you to join us, Your Grace.” Ahnna lowered her bow to give him a wild grin, then she dropped the weapon and flung her arms around him, fingers digging into his shoulders.
But this wasn’t the time for reunions.
Letting his sister go, Aren peered between shields, seeing the chains and ropes grasped in the Maridrinians’ hands, his stomach tightening. “We’ve only got one breaker still functioning on this side, but it’s been damaged. They’re starting to breach the cliffs, and we don’t have the manpower out there to keep them off for long.”
Ahnna’s jaw tightened, then she loosed an arrow, taking a Maridrinian in the throat. “We’re nearly spent on arrows.” She reached in the water to pluck up two that floated past. “I don’t know how much longer we can hold them off.”
Fear bit at Aren’s guts. The enemy outnumbered them, but worse than that, all of Ithicana’s vulnerable were in Eranahl. Children. The elderly. Individuals who couldn’t fight. And there was no escape.
“We have them in the storage caverns,” Ahnna said, reading his thoughts. “Locked and barricaded from the inside.”
Which would keep them safe for now, but it would be where they’d all starve if Aren couldn’t keep control of the island.
“Last breaker is down!” A voice filtered through the cavern. “They’re gaining the cliffs.”
“Shit!” Ahnna slammed her fist down on the edge of the boat. But then her eyes turned on Aren. “What do we do?”
He felt the attention of all of his soldiers turning on him even as they fought to keep the enemy back, all of them waiting for him to offer a solution. To lead them toward victory. To be a king.
Crippling panic rose in his chest, but Aren forced it down. You know how to fight. You know how to defend Ithicana. So do it!
In the distance, thunder rolled, and a breeze that smelled like lightning and rain and violence swept through the cavern. And every one of his soldiers turned their faces into the wind, recognizing that scent.
The tempests that defended Ithicana weren’t abandoning the kingdom when it needed them most. Aren only needed to hold out until they arrived.
“Leave me two boats and their crews and take everyone else to defend the cliffs,” he ordered his sister. Then to Taryn, who was methodically shooting Maridrinians, a feral expression on her face, he said, “Get that breaker working again.”
The boats shifted and rocked as soldiers shifted between them, the men and women who’d grown up with him, who’d fought beside him, who’d followed him all of his life, moving to his side.
Jor settled down on one knee next to him. “If they want this gate, they’re going to have to bleed for it!” he shouted, and the cavern echoed with voices repeating him.
Aren stared through the shields, meeting the gazes of the enemy staring back. With one hand, he pulled off his mask and dropped it into the water, smiling as he saw recognition in their eyes.
“For Ithicana!” he shouted, then lifted his blade.
58
Lara
The island was on fire.
Lara stared in horror, her hands growing slack on the ropes she’d only moments ago gripped so fiercely.
She was too late.
Even with the masses of ships between her vessel and the island, she could make out the swarms of enemy soldiers climbing the cliffs, the riot of fighting between Maridrinians and Ithicanians on the volcano slopes, the shipbreakers little more than smoldering shapes. Half a dozen ships crowded around the opening to the cavern, longboats full of soldiers lowering to the water and then rowing into the darkness. If the gate hadn’t been breached yet, it soon would.
Eranahl was falling.
Pain struck her in the stomach, and Lara doubled over, gripping the sides of the boat, tears running down her face. All night she’d fought with the vessel, slowly working her way between islands toward the glow of Eranahl’s signal fires, desperate to reach her home in time to make a difference.
But it had all been for nothing.
Anger abruptly chased away her grief, and Lara slammed her hands down hard. This wasn’t how things were meant to turn out. Ithicana was supposed to be free, her father defeated, and now, despite everything she and Aren had done, despite how hard they’d fought, it was over.
Thunder rolled, and Lara lifted her head to watch the lightning in the distance. It had to be near dawn, but black clouds dominated the east, obscuring any hint of the sun. A violent wind rushed over her, her boat already rising and falling on growing swells.
The storms were meant to be the defenders of Ithicana, but even they were too late.
Turning her head back to the island, Lara watched the soldiers clambering up ropes dangling between boats and clifftops. The surf threw itself against the rocks, full of shattered boats and debris and corpses, but still they kept coming.
And the Ithicanians kept fighting.
Lara knew they’d never stop. They’d never surrender, not when everything that mattered to them was within that city. And those were her people. People who were struggling and dying while she watched.
Straightening, Lara narrowed her eyes at the ships surrounding the island. Then she dug into her pocket for the last of the stimulant, not even tasting the concoction of herbs as she chewed and swallowed. Pulling the line in her hand taut, she watched the sail tighten against the wind, carrying her into the battle.