Page 118 of The Endless War

“We’re here,” Zarrah murmured, and Keris opened his eyes, taking in the cliff walls full of cave openings. Ladders and scaffolding lined the cliffs, the armed Valcottans on them watching the party’s approach.

“So this is where they’ve been hiding.” Sliding off the back of the horse, Keris reached up to help Zarrah down, caring little when his stupid shoulder screamed in protest. Everyone was watching them, and though life had made him used to scrutiny, Keris still had to fight the urge to move to the shadows.

“The True Empress has joined us,” Arjun shouted to the watching crowd. “And with her, she has brought the most mighty of allies, who has agreed to lend us his strength to tear the Usurper from Valcotta’s throne.”

Keris nearly raised an eyebrow, for Arjun had quite recently referred to him as the weakest king Maridrina had ever known, but then the man grabbed Keris’s arm, lifting it into the air. “His Royal Majesty, King Keris Veliant of Maridrina.”

Keris braced himself for the ire his name usually brought, but the rebels lifted their hands and shouted, “Arakis has risen!”

“This is a moment for celebration,” Arjun roared, “for tomorrow, we make plans to march to war!”

The rebel commander led Keris and Zarrah to a ladder that reached up to the scaffolding. “Can you climb?” he asked Keris. “I know you took an arrow to the shoulder.”

“I’ll manage.” Ignoring the pain, Keris followed him up the ladder to the midpoint of the cliff face, then down the narrow scaffolding running along it. The wood swayed and moved, and Keris caught hold of the rope railing, the ground abruptly feeling far away.

“Unlike you to be troubled by heights,” Zarrah said softly from behind him. “I’m sure it’s quite secure.”

He opened his mouth to deny the flicker of fear in his gut, but instead found himself saying, “It was Otis’s fall. The sound of—” He broke off, discomfited. “I’ve yet to regain my comfort with heights.”

Zarrah was quiet as they climbed another ladder, but then she said, “I can’t tolerate a certain rhythm of dripping water. Though it was a decade ago, the sound takes me right back to when my mother’s blood was dripping down on me. Fills me with the same terror.”

She’d never told him that before.

Keris glanced over his shoulder, but her eyes were on the boards of the scaffolding.

“The mind clings to unexpected things,” she said, brow furrowed. “Sights. Sounds.Smells. But not always in a bad way.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, and he fixated on the curve of it, the deadly drop beneath them forgotten as he mused over what she might be remembering.

Arjun stepped off the scaffolding and into a cave entrance, where the ceiling was low enough that Keris had to bend to keep from knocking his head. Rather than dampness, his nose picked up the faint scent of woodsmoke and cooking, the stone beneath his feet dry.

“It’s an extensive network of caves,” Zarrah’s father said. “We have worked hard to keep its existence hidden, though with the increased pressure from the Usurper’s soldiers, I’m not certain it will be safe much longer.”

“The civilians supply you?” Zarrah asked, and her father grunted an affirmative.

“They give up what they can. It’s a safer way to support the cause than to pick up arms or raise their voices. Too many who have done the latter have been murdered in their homes or sent to Devil’s Island, and they’re afraid. Yet the Usurper knows that they are our backbone, and she punishes them. Young people conscripted from Arakis are sent to the worst locations, most lost to battle, accident, or disease within a year. We know it is purposeful, but it’s impossible to prove, and anyone who speaks aloud about it disappears, while those known to support her are granted trade licenses and given choice contracts with the crown.”

“Subversive,” Keris muttered, and Arjun nodded.

“Petra has never been able to tolerate criticism, so she finds clever ways to harm that cannot be traced to her. But let us not tarnish this moment with talk of our enemy. Valcotta is rising, and this is a moment to celebrate!”

The sound of drums and pipes softly echoed down the tunnel, growing louder as they progressed, as did the faint murmur of chatter and laughter of many people. Then the tunnel opened into a large chamber.

Lamps of colored Valcottan glass dangled from the roof, casting a rainbow of light over what appeared to be a communal dining hall.There were many of the low tables the Valcottans favored, cushions and furs used as padding against the stone floor. The tables were laden with jugs of ale and glass decanters of wine, as well as platters of food. Braziers were scattered around the space, the heat putting warmth into Keris’s fingers, which had been numbed by the cold. The drummer and the pipe player paused, and heads turned, everyone falling silent.

Zarrah hesitated, then pressed into the chamber, pouring herself a glass of ale. Holding it up high, she said, “I lift my glass to all of you, who have fought so tirelessly and against every odd. Together, we will remake a better Valcotta!”

The rebels all lifted their glasses and roared, “To the True Empress!”

“To the True Empress,” Keris murmured, taking a sip from the glass Saam had pushed into his hand, only to nearly gag on the sweetness. “Is this syrup?”

Saam laughed. “Fortified wine, Your Grace. Will put hair on your chest, and soon you’ll look like me!” The rebel lifted his shirt, revealing a chest that boasted a full carpet of dark hair.

“You put me to shame, my friend,” Keris answered, though his eyes had moved back to Zarrah. Her father had joined her and was escorting her around the chamber, introducing her to his following. Her eyes were bright, the grin on her face authentic and more full of joy than he’d seen in longer than he could remember. Surrounded not just by her people, but by individuals who shared her vision, her dream. Who would help her see it become reality.

Taking another sip of the sweet wine, Keris leaned back against the cavern wall, watching her own the moment. Saam joined him, a bottle in hand, which he used to refill Keris’s glass. “How long will you stay?” the rebel asked.

Forever,was the first thought that came to Keris’s mind, but he pushed it away. “I’ll stay until we have the basis of a plan, an idea of timing, and then I’ll need to return to Maridrina.”

Saam nodded, then took a mouthful directly from the bottle. “You really believe that your people will fight for us?”

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