Page 80 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

They crept through the underbrush, hiding under the cover of darkness as they circled around toward the village Jor was scouting for vessels, the Maridrinian soldiers crashing about as they searched.

“Call for reinforcements! Tell them we’ve got Valcottan raiders coming in from behind!” a man ordered, the voice familiar.

Because it was Keris’s.

The soil was damp, and he and Lara were leaving a trail a blind man could follow. They had to hurry.

Progressing north toward the village, Aren moved with practiced silence through the trees, Lara so quiet that the only reason he knew she was there was the grip he had on her wrist.

“They went this way!” Shouts echoed from behind them, and up the slope, a horse galloped down the road in the direction of the village.

Giving up on stealth, Aren crashed through the underbrush. They were so close. They couldn’t get caught now.

Then they were in the open, racing down a narrow beach. But so was the soldier on horseback.

The gray horse galloped in their direction, rider bent low over its neck, glittering blade held in one hand. Then the man leaned back, hauling on the reins, pulling back his hood to reveal his face.

“What the hell are you doing in Nerastis?” Keris demanded, then shook his head. “Never mind. You need to run. They’re coming, and I’m not in any position to help you.”

Maridrinian soldiers exploded out of the brush and onto the beach, racing in their direction. Keris’s face twisted in frustration, then he shouted, “Catch the Valcottans! They’re getting away!”

Still holding onto Lara’s wrist, Aren raced toward the waterline, where Jor was pulling loose the rope anchoring a small fishing boat to the beach. Together, they pushed it toward the water, boots digging into the sand.

But the Maridrinians were already on them.

Swords clashed, and Aren turned to see Lara fighting them, her sword a blur of silver in the moonlight. But there were a dozen of them and only one of her. “Go!” she shouted. “Don’t stop!”

“Come on, Aren,” Jor snarled. “Push!”

Aren ignored him, letting go of the boat and racing in Lara’s direction. Pulling his weapon, he carved into a soldier, barely hearing the man’s scream as he dropped, because all that mattered was getting to her. He killed another man, then another, and then he and Lara were fighting together, holding them off.

But more Maridrinians swarmed onto the beach, reinforcements arriving.

This was where it was going to end.

And it was not, Aren thought, the worst way to go: with his queen fighting at his back.

“Retreat!” Keris’s voice echoed across the chaos, the prince standing in his saddle. “Retreat!”

The Maridrinian soldiers raced to comply, and Aren twisted around in time to see the first Valcottan longboats hit the shore, dozens of soldiers spilling out. “For Valcotta!” Zarrah screamed, but as she ran past him, she said, “Get going, Ithicana.”

Jor had the fishing boat in the water, and Aren and Lara splashed through the waves, pushing it farther out while Jor fought to get the sails up alone. Clambering in, Aren helped unravel lines, Lara holding onto the edge and kicking hard, pushing them into deeper water, the Valcottans already retreating.

“Get in,” he shouted at her, the sail rising. “We need to go.”

But Lara didn’t answer.

Dread filled him, and Aren spun around. “Lara!”

She was still there. Still swimming. But she looked up, meeting his gaze. “Goodbye, Aren,” she said, and let go of the boat, aiming toward shore.

Instinct took over.

Aren lunged, reaching down to catch hold of her belt and haul her out of the water. Her ankles caught on the edge and she fell backward, landing in his arms.

“What are you doing?” She twisted in his arms so that they were face-to-face, their legs tangled together in the bottom of the boat.

What was he doing?

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