Page 88 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

Except the Maridrinian soldiers stopped right next to where Lara dangled by her fingertips, voices filtering down.

“The Ithicanians are up to something,” the first one said. “I can feel it. All those horns blasting the other day, the same message over and over.”

“So what if they are. It’s wishful thinking. Can’t be more than a few hundred of them left alive, and if they feel like throwing themselves against their own defenses, so much the better. The sooner they’re all dead, the sooner I can return to my wine cup and women.”

The Maridrinians laughed, the sound echoing through the mist.

Aren stiffened in anger, but Jor’s grip tightened on his arm. “Save the fight for later.”

But Lara, it appeared, had other plans.

Aren watched helplessly as she climbed silently onto the bridge top.

The air split with screams.

A shrieking soldier flew off the side, plunging down to land with a thud on the sand, the snakes on him in an instant. But Aren couldn’t tear his gaze from the swirls of mist above, which was all he could see of the battle. Grunts and thuds filled his ears, and then another man fell, this time into the water.

Lia was on the dying soldier in a flash, slitting his throat before he could betray their presence.

Another scream, then running feet.

Then silence.

Aren couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but stare up at the bridge, waiting.

Please be alive.

Then a whistle sounded, two quick tweets followed by a long trill, and he exhaled a heavy breath and retrieved his bow from where it floated in the water. A heartbeat later, Lara dropped the end of the rope.

Lia fastened the heavy knotted rope they used for climbing to the end of it, then Lara dragged it up, securing it to the bridge.

Another whistle.

“I’ll go first,” Lia said, but Aren ignored her, jumping up to catch the rope and then climbing, his shoulders burning by the time he reached the top.

Lara stood among the dead, her face and clothing splattered with blood, the only sign of injury a split lip.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” She swayed slightly, and fear crawled up Aren’s spine. Dropping to his knees, he jerked up the leg of her loose trousers. There was a livid red mark from the force of the snake hitting her calf, but miraculously, the creature’s fangs hadn’t broken the skin.

“Aren, I’m fine.” She tried to pull away, but he pushed his fingers through the twin holes in the fabric and met her gaze, noticing how she blanched. “What you are is lucky,” he growled, anger chasing away his fear.

Not anger at her. But at himself.

Why had he brought her here? Why hadn’t he left her on that beach?

Twisting away, he began pushing the bodies off the bridge in case another patrol came along. By the time he was finished, the rest of his team were on the bridge top. All of them eyed Lara with a new level of respect, even Aster.

“Let’s go,” Aren ordered. “We’ve only got three hours to bring down Gamire’s defenses.”

* * *

They encountered onlyone more Maridrinian patrol on their run to Gamire, the soldiers talking loudly enough that Aren heard them half a mile away. It was the way of it in the fog—those who weren’t used to it didn’t understand how it dampened sound, the way it distorted the direction any noise seemed to come from. But it was a weapon that Aren had used often. And a weapon he used well.

The men were dead before they could even reach for their weapons.

Still holding his blade, Aren silently released the trigger on the hatch the Maridrinians had been guarding, the springs pushing the slab of stone upward far enough for him and Jor to get their fingers under it. Aren listened for a heartbeat, then nodded once, and they pulled it open.

---