“What do you plan to do with them when they show?”
His father’s voice echoed in his head. When you are heir, you are the target of all. You can expect no loyalty from your brothers, and all but the cowards will come for you at one point or another. If you live to inherit, they’ll come for your sons. It is the way of it, and it is also the reason you have no uncles still living.
“I will do whatever I must.”
THERE WERE SEVEN of them, three women and four men, all wearing worn and dirty clothing that appeared patched together from rags. All had long, unwashed hair, and the men bore thick
beards, their bodies thin but hard. Four of the seven had skin a shade of brown, three were paler, all filthy.
And all carried weapons.
Cudgels and staffs and knives that looked to be formed from scraps of scavenged metal. All more than capable of taking a life.
“Welcome to Devil’s Island,” one of them said, a man as big as Bermin, with a curling black beard that matched his hair. He grinned, revealing an entire mouthful of gold teeth, and stepped closer. “It’s been an age since we had any fresh meat.”
Meat.
Cannibals.
Zarrah didn’t hesitate. Flinging the stone at the man, she leapt to her feet and broke into a sprint, his cry of pain chasing her up the hill. She could see the shadowed outline of trees and larger boulders
ahead, but the rest was lost to shadows.
She stumbled, ankle twisting on the rocks, but managed to keep her footing. Stone clacked against stone as the cannibals broke into pursuit, the rapid footfalls suggesting they’d not be easily outpaced.
“Stop,” one of them shouted. “We aren’t going to hurt you!”
Just eat me, she thought, then put on a burst of speed.
Small rocks gave way to larger boulders. Zarrah leapt between them, racing toward the treeline, the light from the braziers hanging from the cliffs fading away. The prisoners would know every inch of their island prison. Might well have traps laid or have more of their companions lying in wait to catch her, but the heavy breathing of those in pursuit was loud in her ears. There was no time for caution.
She needed to find a place to hide.
Zarrah reached the trees, the scent of pine thick as her sodden boots crunched the carpet of fallen needles, the cold air burning her lungs. There were well-trodden paths, but Zarrah avoided them.
Wove through the blackness between trees and headed to higher ground, banking that her being well fed and strong would give her the advantage.
“Stop!” the big man roared, and Zarrah hazarded a backward glance.
He was close enough that she could see the glint of moonlight reflecting off his teeth, others hot on his heels.
“We want to help you!”
Bullshit.
She needed to get farther ahead. Needed a few heartbeats out of sight to hide in the darkness, but the cursed bastard kept pace. Higher and higher she climbed, and it occurred to Zarrah that she had no idea of the size of the island prison. No idea whether she was strides away from reaching the moat of water encircling it or whether it stretched on for another mile.
Icy wind ripped at her hair and clothes as she crested the summit, her heart skittering as she took in the sight. Lit up with endless braziers was a spiral of water that circled out to the blackness of the sea, all visible from her vantage.
Yet there was no time to take it in. No time to consider escape from the island when it was the prisoners within that she needed to evade.
She sprinted across the top of the summit, her breathing ragged and sides burning.
Only for her feet to snag on something hidden in the darkness.
of them, three women and four men, all wearing worn and dirty clothing that
Zarrah tripped and rolled, body bouncing against rocks and roots until she came to a stop.
Get up! Run!
A groan tore from her lips as she hauled herself back to her feet, her head aching and blood dripping down her cheek. Snatching up a rock from the ground, she whirled—
Only to find her pursuers stopped a dozen paces away, refusing to pass the low barrier of rocks she’d tripped over.
“If you value your life, you’ll come back to our territory,” the man called. “There is only death to
“Welcome to Devil’s Island,” one of them said, a man as big as Bermin, with a curling black beard be found where you are going.”
“As opposed to the long life awaiting me with you?” Zarrah laughed bitterly, then pressed a hand to her side as pain lanced outward. “My gratitude for the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“They’ll kill you, woman! Kill you and—” Breaking off, he took a wary step back, lifting his cudgel.
Zarrah didn’t hesitate. Flinging the stone at the man, she leapt to her feet and broke into a sprint, his Zarrah’s skin prickled, realization that she might have made a fatal error sinking into her soul a heartbeat before a hand clamped over her mouth.
Zarrah slammed her elbows back, but more hands grabbed her arms. Her legs. Just before they tugged a sack over her head, Zarrah saw shadowed figures approach the barricade, weapons raised.
And beyond, her would-be saviors retreated from sight.
the cursed bastard kept pace. Higher and higher she climbed, and it occurred to Zarrah that she had no Icy wind ripped at her hair and clothes as she crested the summit, her heart skittering as she took in
“As opposed to the long life awaiting me with you?” Zarrah laughed bitterly, then pressed a hand to
Zarrah slammed her elbows back, but more hands grabbed her arms. Her legs. Just before they tugged a sack over her head, Zarrah saw shadowed figures approach the barricade, weapons raised.
And beyond, her would-be saviors retreated from sight.
THERE HADN’T BEEN a chance that he’d leave Sara in that place.
With Dax carrying her meager belongings, Keris had ridden back to the palace with his little sister on the saddle before him, her fists clenching the edges of the cloak to protect herself from the wind. Conversation had been impossible over the noise of the storm, his concern all for guiding his laboring mount and not being blown off in the process.
The horse’s hooves made sharp clacks against the paving stones as he rode through the gates into the palace, dismounting first and then lifting Sara out of the saddle. An arm around her back and the other under her knees, he moved to carry her inside, but she jabbed him in the chest with one index finger. “Put me down.”
He dutifully set her down. Sara held out a hand, and Dax scurried forward with her cane. “Here you are, Highness.”
“Thank you,” she said to him, then made her way into the inner sanctum, each gust of wind
threatening to send her toppling. Keris kept close, ready to catch her, but his sister only gritted her teeth as the storm lashed at her clothes and hair.
Instead of cutting left into the harem’s building, she pressed through the gardens, flowers and leaves from the shredded plants buffeting the group until they reached the shelter of the tower.
Servants immediately descended on them, whisking away sodden cloaks and handing over towels.
Keris only wiped at his face, shoving strands of his soaked hair behind his ears before turning to Sara. “You may have your old room back in the harem’s house. I’m sure they still have all your dresses and things.” He hoped they did, at least. When he’d informed his father’s wives that he had no intention of marrying them, as was tradition, he’d also told them that they had the liberty to stay or go live their lives elsewhere as widows. Sara’s mother had been one of the first to go. She’d not requested to take her daughter with her, only her jewelry and gowns, and where she’d gone, Keris didn’t know. “Sara, your mother—”