Her breath came in panicked little gasps as the sharks moved closer, a sob tearing from her throat as something thudded against her ankle.
“Swim, Lara! Swim!”
The sound of her name pulled her eyes from the fins to the Ithicanians standing on the cliffs above, the wind tearing at their clothes. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. And Ahnna and Taryn were shouting at her, gesturing to the cavern below. “Swim!”
There was no chance that she’d make it. No chance that one of the sharks wouldn’t take her down or that she wouldn’t bleed to death.
But Lara started kicking.
Clinging to the wooden debris, she churned her legs, ignoring the pain and keeping her eyes fixed on the cavern opening. The screams of the abandoned soldiers fought with the storm for supremacy, lightning bolts crisscrossing the sky in violent succession. Fins circled her, enormous sleek shapes darting in only to veer away at the last minute.
They came closer, tails knocking into her legs as they thrashed away, and each time she waited for teeth to slice into her flesh. Waited to be pulled down and torn apart or drowned.
But she kept swimming.
Waves exploded against the cliffs, but the screaming had ceased, Lara the last person alive in the sea. Her arms trembled with the effort of holding onto the debris, her legs hanging uselessly as the waves flung her into the mouth of the cavern.
All around her was blackness filled with a deafening roar of wind and sea, and Lara felt herself falter. Losing her grip, she went under, only to struggle upward long enough to gasp for breath.
Keep fighting, she ordered herself. You will not give up. You are too close to give up.
Ahead, she caught sight of the faint glow of light, then the sea surged again, and Lara screamed as she was thrown into a web of twisted metal.
62
Aren
It was hard to see.
But he didn’t need to see to know that the enemy was clambering over the gap between the top of the twisted portcullis and the cavern ceiling. He could hear their muttered voices. The grunts of effort. The splash when they landed on the other side and began to swim.
Only to find Ithicana waiting.
Aren slashed at any sign of movement, his arms numb from exhaustion, his motions weak and clumsy.
But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop when they kept coming, the water thick with bodies and swimming men. They swamped the boats, hands reaching up to grab at his clothing, pulling him overboard and down into the depths.
Part of him wondered if he was already dead, if this was some form of hell.
A slice of pain across his forearm snapped him back into the moment, and Aren fought to the surface of the water, bodies bumping into him on all sides.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
“No!” Aren choked out the word. “We will not retreat! I will not retreat!”
And then he realized the voices shouting the words were Maridrinian. He felt the shift as the enemy tried to pull back. Tried to climb through that small gap above the twisted steel.
Torchlight flared behind him, flickering off the water and illuminating the sea of corpses and men.
“Got you!” Hands hauled him back into a boat, Jor’s face appearing above him. “They’re retreating. Looks like the storm chased them off.”
“I heard.” Aren closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
Then a deafening screech filled the air, and he jerked upright, watching as the portcullis was dragged a dozen feet forward only to catch where the tunnel narrowed. Then the chains slackened and slipped into the sea.
There was no longer a way into Eranahl.
Which also meant there was no longer a way out, and dozens of enemy soldiers still swam on this side of the twisted metal gate. They pressed against the portcullis, fighting to pull it free, but to no avail. And almost as one, they turned to face Aren and the rest of his soldiers.
Instinct demanded he cut them down. Demanded he kill these men who’d been intent on slaughtering his people and destroying his home.
But in their eyes gleamed fear and desperation. “Care to surrender?”
There were swift nods of assent, and Aren inclined his head once in acknowledgment. “Drop your weapons, then come one by one. You cause trouble, you get your throat slit. Understood?”
More nods, and Aren said to his soldiers, “Tie them up. We’ll deal with them later.”
Boats approached from the underground harbor, voices shouting the news that the fleet had abandoned the attack, that the enemy soldiers still on the island were surrendering, and what were Aren’s orders for how they should be dealt with?
“Accept their surrender. We’ve had enough bloodshed today to last Ithicana a lifetime. We’ll keep them prisoner until Maridrina has fully withdrawn from Ithicana, and then I’ll—” He broke off, uncertain of exactly what he’d do with these men. The last time he’d allowed an outsider into Eranahl, it had not gone well for him.
But Ithicana had to change. He had to change. “I’ll negotiate their return to Maridrina.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The soldiers swam forward one by one, his people taking them into boats and binding them before retreating into the harbor. Aren climbed a ledge on the cave wall, resting his knees on his elbows. Breathing. Just breathing.
“Aren!”
He turned at the sound of Lia’s voice, and through the dim light, he saw the boat carrying his bodyguard fighting its way closer against the force of the surging sea.
“You need to open the portcullis!”
Glancing at the twisted metal wedged in the cave, he gave a shake of his head. “That’s impossible. We’re going to have to cut it out.”
“Then cut it!” Her voice was shrill. Desperate.
“Why?”
The boat reached him, and Lia leapt onto the ledge next to him, her arm wrapped with a bandage. “Because Lara’s out there.”
His skin turned to ice. “That’s impossible. We left her on Gamire without even a boat.”
“Well, she found a way.” Lia held out a torch, illuminating the water surging into the cave, then retreating with equally violent force. “She challenged her father. Killed him. It’s why they retreated when they did. She saved us, and now we need to save her.”
The sea and storm reduced to a dull noise, and the torch light was suddenly too bright. “Get the tools to cut the metal!”
One of the soldiers holding a paddle said, “But Your Grace, the storm is almost upon us! We need to get out of the tunnel before the surge becomes even worse!”
“Get the goddamned tools!” Aren screamed the words in the man’s face. “If we get it down fast, we might be able to catch the ship.” And do what once he’d caught it, he didn’t know. All that mattered was that he do everything he could to save her.
Lia gripped his arm, her fingers digging into his skin. “Lara’s not on the ship, Aren. She’s in the water.”
As she said the words the sea surged, froth and water storming through the cave, carrying with it a slender form.
“Lara,” he screamed, right before her body slammed against the steel of the portcullis.
63
Lara