Page 87 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

“Lara!”

Sobbing, she clawed at the rock, fingers finally catching hold. She climbed, heart in her throat.

Then something struck the back of her knee and pain lanced up her leg.

Terror filled her, but she didn’t dare stop to see if she’d been bitten when others were flinging themselves against the pier just beneath her feet.

“Climb higher!”

Her toe slipped, her weight making her arms scream, but she struggled on. Foot by foot, her whole body shaking.

Had it bitten her? Was she moments from falling to her death? Lara didn’t know. Wasn’t certain if she was feeling sweat or blood dripping down her legs as she climbed.

Higher and higher she rose, shifting around the side of the pier so that she could climb up the bridge itself.

Finally, she made it to the top. Rolling over the edge, she rested on her back, gasping for breath. Only for voices to fill her ears.

Voices that didn’t belong to the Ithicanians below.

47

Aren

Jor and Asterhad him by the arms, hauling him back, all three of them falling with a splash in the water.

“She’s up! She’s climbing!”

But he’d seen the snake hit her. Even a shallow bite was enough to be deadly. He had to get to her.

Shoving Jor away, Aren clambered through the water toward the beach, only to have his head pushed under the water, his face smacking against the sand.

Jor hauled him out by the hair. “Don’t make me half drown you to make you see reason, boy. Look! She’s already at the top.”

He was right. Through the mist, Aren could faintly see Lara circling the pier, moving with a steady confidence as she climbed up the side of the bridge, disappearing on top. Exhaling, he lowered his head to find several snakes approaching the waterline, watching him with interest.

“Just try it,” he hissed at them, but moved back toward the boat rather than tempting fate.

And it was then he heard voices.

“Shit,” Jor muttered. “Patrol.”

Aren could barely breathe, terror wrapping around his chest like a vise. Lara only had a belt knife, and she’d be exhausted from her race and subsequent climb. He needed to get up there. Needed to help her.

Except the beach was covered with snakes, and they’d used all the fish to bait them away from Lara. But he had to try. He had to—

Jor’s hand latched onto his wrist, his other hand pointing.

Lara had climbed back over the side of the bridge and was hanging there, barely visible through the fog.

“Shouts were coming from over here.” A Maridrinian’s voice.

“I don’t see nothing,” another responded. “You’re hearing things.”

“It’s the cursed fog,” yet another said. “It’s enough to drive one to madness, never being able to see.”

At least three, but probably more.

“They can’t see us,” Jor said under his breath, then signaled Lia and the others to stay silent. “They’ll move on soon enough.”

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