Page 107 of The Endless War

“I’ll never be the same,” Daria said. “I’ll never lose the taint of the things that I did, the things I forced my tribe to do, to survive. I’ll never not feel filthy. Never not feel sick. Never not wonder if it wouldhave been better to die.” She stopped on the steps, staring downward. “Except if we had, then think of how differently things would have gone when you arrived on that island. When Keris and Aren came. When the commander risked the Usurper’s trap to free you.”

“We’d all be dead,” Zarrah said, answering the question, “the rebellion crushed. And the Usurper would continue on as she always has. So it seems to me that the right choice was made, despite the burden you will forever carry.” Gripping Daria’s arm, she turned the other woman to face her. “On my honor, I do not, and will not, hold what you did to survive against you. And I will have your back in the days to come.”

Daria’s brown eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Empress.”

Zarrah didn’t correct the title, because to name her so was what Daria and the others had suffered to achieve. She would not diminish that, even if the title was as-yet unearned. “Let’s go. If Saam doesn’t quit kissing Keris’s ass the way he is, we won’t be able to get his ego out the door.”

Daria laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Truer words never spoken.” They continued down the steps, finding the men standing with Miri, who was wiping Keris’s face clean with a cloth.

“You know,” Daria said just before they reached them, “that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call her the Usurper.”

It was true. Petra had always been her Empress, her savior, her aunt. But as the poison the monster had filled her with was slowly expelled, Zarrah found that the Usurper was none of those things to her anymore. “It’s time I started calling her what she is to me so that she might learn what I am to her. The enemy.” Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Now take me to the commander.”

IT WAS SNOWINGagain when they left the pleasure house, Saam talking Keris’s ear off as he led them through the sodden streets. Traffic had once again returned, but there was an uneasy edge to the city, civilians eyeing the soldiers on patrol like dogs they thought likely to bite. Keris kept casting backward glances at Zarrah and Daria, whose heads were together in conversation, wishing they’d keep closer.

Not because they weren’t more capable than he was of defending themselves if there was trouble but because he knew the weight that was about to be placed on Zarrah’s shoulders. The rebels had made her the heart of the resistance, salvation incarnate, destined to achieve all they’d fought for and to change their lives forever. An incredible amount of pressure, and Zarrah had already been pushed past the limits of what anyone should endure. He was afraid that the pressure of the rebels’ expectations would push her over the edge. It made his own fear rise, and with it, the desire to insulate her from what was to come. To pull her away from it.

Except that would be a mistake.

Zarrahneededto do this. Needed to fight this fight because it wasn’t just a battle to take the crown from Petra and liberate Valcotta; it was a war to reclaim her self-worth. To deny her that would make him as much a monster as Petra.

“It’s this one,” Saam said, reaching for the door of a building with a carved sign of a lioness with an arrow through her flank.

A blast of heat struck him as Keris stepped inside, none of the patrons in the crowded alehouse looking up as Saam led them to a private room separated by an impressive wall of colored glass on the left side. Inside the room were piles of the low cushions Valcottans favored, and equally low tables holding steaming mugs of mulled wine and plates of fried meats.

“This will be the last chance to eat and drink for a few hours,” Daria said. “So I suggest we dig in.”

Despite his nerves, Keris found himself ravenous, and the four of them all forwent conversation in favor of filling their stomachs. The food was good, but he noted how Daria and Saam ate almost mechanically, eyes staring into the distance as though they needed to disassociate from the act of eating in order to get each mouthful down their throats. As they finished with glasses of dark ale, Daria and Zarrah moved to sit together on a pile of cushions, deep in conversation. So Keris turned to Saam. “I’m glad to see that your commander has taken you back into the fold. I’ve heard it can be difficult coming back into the world after imprisonment. A challenge to adapt again to the order of things.”

Saam pulled a loose thread on a cushion. “It’s not been how I envisioned it would. I always thought we’d be hailed as heroes for surviving the worst the Usurper had to throw at us, but instead it feels like we’re …”

“Pariahs?” Keris suggested.

Saam sighed. “They know what we did, and it’s as though half of them believe that we wanted to do it. And will continue to do it.” He gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “I hate eating now. If there was a way I could go the rest of my life without taking another mouthful ofanything, I’d do it.”

“Understandable.”

Saam’s eyes lifted to meet Keris’s. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“I have to say, it was eclipsed by my face-to-facesencounter with Flay. He was a thing of nightmares, while your choice to put your enemies’ corpses in a cookpot rather than the ground was merely a footnote in my adventures on the island.” Keris rested his elbow on a cushion, leaning into it and then regretting the motion as pain lanced through his shoulder. “Though in seriousness, I’ve seen true evil enough times to recognize it, and that’s not what I see when I look at you.”

Saam looked away. “It’s all everyone else sees. It’s all they think of when they look at me.Saam the cannibal.” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Part of me thinks that the only reason the commander has allowed us back into the ranks is because the alternative was to put us all down. We know too much.”

“Zarrah won’t let him do that,” Keris said without hesitation. “And if it comes to it, there will always be a place for you in Maridrina as long as I rule. Ithicana as well, I imagine, though I don’t recommend it. Terrible weather and far too many snakes.”

Saam barked out a laugh, but then his expression grew serious. “You would harbor Valcottan convicts with a reputation for cannibalism?”

“My reputation is already shit, so I doubt my people would even blink.” Taking a mouthful of the ale, Keris added, “You will likely never fully escape this stigma, Saam. Not any of you. But you can overcome it by giving your people something better to remember about you. Great things to outshine dark deeds.”

Saam’s brow furrowed, and then he nodded. “You’re right. Thank you.”

Keris shrugged, abruptly aware of Zarrah’s eyes on him. Watching. Listening. Yet betraying nothing of her thoughts on her face.

Unease ran through him, because if she’d been listening, then she’d heard him commit her to protecting the prisoners. Which he had no business doing on her behalf, and Keris silently kicked himself for speaking without thinking. Biting the insides of his cheeks, he forced himself to meet her gaze, wary of what he might find there. Afraid that he’d crossed the line.

But Zarrah only gave a slight nod, her mouth curling upward in a faint smile as she turned back to Daria.

Keris had no opportunity to feel relieved as something hammered against the floor beneath his feet. “Shit,” he snarled, scrambling backward, but Saam only frowned and dropped to his knees, opening the trapdoor beneath the cushion Keris had been sitting on. In the darkness of the cellar, two faces appeared, both of which he recognized from Daria’s camp on the island. “We’ve got more trouble,” one said. “Welran’s ordered sympathizers detained. His soldiers are burning their homes and beating them for information on the commander’s whereabouts.” The man looked past Saam and Keris to Zarrah. “For information on your whereabouts, Empress. We need to get out of here quick.”

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