Page 85 of The Traitor Queen (The Bridge Kingdom 2)

Everyone in the boat went still, Aren gesturing to the other crew for silence as they listened.

Lara could pick up male voices, though the bridge itself was too high above for her to hear what they were saying. Or for her to determine how many of them were there.

But Aren shook his head, his hands moving in silent signals telling the other boat to move away from the pier and out into open water.

Only when they were a distance away did he swear and slam his fist down on the edge of the boat. “Of all the places they could choose to have lunch, it had to be there.”

“Is there another pier we can use?” Lara asked.

“None near Gamire,” Jor answered. “And we’re on a tight schedule.”

“There’s one.” All heads turned in Aren’s direction. “It’s closer, so even with the delay, we’ll keep to the timeline.”

“No,” Jor said flatly. “We’ll find another way.”

“We don’t have another way,” Aren snapped. “At least not one that keeps to the timeline. We need to come in from the bridge top and take out the Maridrinians manning Gamire’s shipbreakers, or when our people attack, they’ll be sitting ducks.”

“We go farther south, then. There’re a couple piers we can climb. If we move fast—”

“The Maridrinians aren’t stupid. They’re patrolling the bridge top. How many would we have to fight in order to get back to Gamire? What are the chances they wouldn’t get a signal off that we’re attacking? This is the only way.”

Jor’s face was red. “I said no. I’m too slow, and I’m not risking any of this crew to that sort of nonsense.”

“It should be me anyway,” Aren said. “I’m the fastest.”

It was then that Lara realized justhowAren was suggesting they reach the bridge top.

Snake Island.

Right as Jor snarled, “Not a goddamned chance,” Lara said, “I’ll do it.”

Both men stopped their argument to stare at her, as did the other Ithicanians in the boat.

“I’ll do it,” she repeated. “I’m fast, and I’m a good climber.”

Lia whistled through her teeth in obvious approval, but Jor shot her a look that silenced any further outbursts. But he couldn’t silence the way the Ithicanians were looking at her with interest.

Aren’s jaw worked back and forth. “It’s harder than it looks, Lara. And if one of the snakes gets its teeth into you, there is no way for us to help. You won’t make the climb before the paralysis kicks in, and if the fall doesn’t kill you, one of the bigger snakes will finish the job. And you need to do it all while carrying rope.”

She shrugged, hoping the gesture hid the skitter of fear working its way up her spine. “No great loss to you if I die. And if they’re busy trying to eat me, then it might give you a better chance of making the climb yourself.”

“She’s got a point,” Jor said. “But it’s your call.”

Aren said nothing, but in his eyes, Lara could see him warring with the decision, knowing how it would look if he risked anyone else, including himself, in her place. Finally, he said, “Let’s go.”

Sweat poured down Lara’s back by the time they reached the small island, the mist and cloud cover hiding them from Maridrinian patrols above and on the water. On the day that Aren had raced the snakes, it had been sunny. But today the hundreds of snakes that teemed beneath the ledges and among the rocks were hidden by the fog.

Which made what she was about to do all the worse.

“This isn’t a bravery trial.” Aren slung his bow over his shoulder and handed Jor a sack of still-moving fish before retrieving his own. “We’ll keep baiting them off the path, and then we’ll cover you as well as we can with arrows. But with this visibility . . .”

“It’s fine,” Lara said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Either I make it to the pier ahead of them or I don’t. A handful of arrows aren’t likely to make a difference.”

Aster moved next to her, draping a thin length of rope over her shoulders, then securing it to her belt. It was heavier than she’d hoped. Heavy enough to slow her down.

“You don’t have to do this. I—” Aren started to say, but Lara only hopped out of the boat and onto the submerged sandbar, making her way toward the island until she was only knee-deep. Interlocking her hands, she stretched her arms in front, her back cracking. “I’m ready.”

She wasn’t ready. Not even close. Over the sound of the surf, she could hear the snakes moving, their coils rasping against each other as they watched the intruders, the hisses of hundreds of tongues blending together into one monstrous voice.

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