“Keris!” voices called from above. Familiar voices. Saam. Jor. Her father. “We’re coming!”
“I was wrong to try to make you like me,” her aunt sobbed. “You’ve always been better than me.
Please don’t change that.”
“Zarrah, we’re all going to fall!”
She looked up into Keris’s face. His left hand was braced on the edge, tendons standing out white against his blood-smeared skin, but he was slipping. “Don’t listen to her,” he said between his teeth.
“Don’t let her take you down.”
“Zarrah, please!” her aunt wailed. “Don’t allow my death to stain your legacy.”
It wasn’t lost on her that her aunt was trying to save her own neck, but the words struck a chord. If Zarrah let her fall, it would weigh upon her conscience. Be forever how the world remembered her.
Whereas if she showed her aunt mercy … “Climb up,” she gasped out. “My wrists are tied; I can’t.
But you can.”
“Zarrah, no!” Keris’s arm was shaking, but the others were coming. He just needed to hold on a few seconds more.
Her aunt gave her a tight nod, then started to climb. Her fingers dug into Zarrah’s body, legs wrapping around her waist so that they were face-to-face. “You are a good girl, dear one,” she whispered, breath hot and sour on Zarrah’s face. “Serving until the bitter end.”
The Usurper let go with one hand, and Zarrah saw the flash of steel slashing toward Keris’s face.
No.
Zarrah smashed her forehead against the Usurper’s nose, hearing it crunch even as blood sprayed her in the face. The monster gasped and recoiled, losing her grip.
Then she was gone.
Zarrah looked down, watching as the creature who’d touched every part of her life, good and bad, fell. Petra Anaphora didn’t once scream. Only stared up at Zarrah until her body smashed against rocks below.
Thud.
She was dead. Zarrah stared at the broken body of the woman she’d once worshipped, barely able to comprehend that Petra Anaphora was gone.
“I’ve got you.”
Zarrah looked up as Keris began to lift her, so she saw the moment his injured shoulder gave out.
She dropped as he slammed down against the cliff edge, and then they were falling. Zarrah screamed, her nails clawing at the rock face, only for her body to stop with a jerk.
The ropes binding her wrists had snagged on a crag, leaving her dangling, knees banging against the cliff. “Keris!” she howled, terror and horror making her heart tear from her chest as she forced herself to look down, knowing it would be to see him shattered on the rocks below.
Only to see his blue eyes looking up at her.
He dangled from one hand on a crag below her, knuckles tight with strain. As she watched, he tried to reach with his other hand, but his injured shoulder refused to lift his arm. “Hold on,” he gasped.
“They’re coming.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything,” the Usurper pleaded. “I will make it up to you, I promise. I’ll Above, Zarrah heard her father call her name. Knew that they didn’t have a rope and wouldn’t be able to get one in time, because Keris’s fingers were slipping, and with the way the cliff curved in
beneath him, there were no toeholds to be had.
He was going to fall.
A shriek of defiance tore from her lips because she’d already signed his death warrant once tonight, and she refused to do it again. They would live together or die together.
Her toes scrabbled for holds on the rock, and ignoring the incredible pain in her torso, Zarrah heaved herself upward.
“Zarrah, no!” Keris shouted.
Even her father screamed, “Don’t move! Saam’s running to get rope from the boat below!”
She ignored them as her face drew even with her bound wrists. Her arms shuddered as she linked her fingers together over the crag, then caught hold of the knot with her teeth. The copper taste of blood filled her mouth as she ripped at the rope, ears deaf to the shouts telling her to stop.
I will not let him fall, she told herself. I refuse to let him fall.
Then the knot pulled loose. Her weight came down hard on her linked hands as the rope fell past her legs, and Zarrah sucked in a deep breath. You can do this.
“Zarrah, no!”
She lowered one foot, finding another toehold. Then she began climbing down the cliff.
Every part of her was shaking, fear like poison in her guts, but adrenaline gave her strength as Zarrah edged her way down, the deadly drop a blur of river and rock below. “Hold on,” she shouted.
“Please, Keris. Don’t let go!”
Her progress was agonizingly slow, with each handhold, her heart skipping with fear that she’d hear him slip. Hear his scream as he fell. Hear the thud of his body hitting the rocks.
“Zarrah, stop!” he pleaded. “Climb up, please!”
She didn’t answer, focusing on finding handholds, her weight suspended on fingertips and toes. Her battered ribs protested every move, sending bolts of agony through her that made her see stars.
And then she was above him.
There was no way to go lower with the way the cliff curved inward, and Zarrah scanned the
surface of the rock, trying to find a way closer. Tears were pouring down her face, because she could see his strength was failing, only sheer will keeping him dangling from his fingertips. “Hold on,” she pleaded. “They’re coming with a rope. Just hold on a little longer.”
“I can’t,” he gasped. “You have to let me go, Zarrah. It’s over for me, but you need to live. Promise me that you’ll live.”
“Do you think I haven’t tried to let you go?” she shouted at him. “Over and over, I’ve tried, but I might as well let go of my heart. I cannot live without you, Keris. I will not!”
But he was slipping.
She dropped as he slammed down against the cliff edge, and then they were falling. Zarrah screamed,
“I love you,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “Close your eyes. Don’t watch.”
“No,” she screamed, seeing his strength fail.
The ropes binding her wrists had snagged on a crag, leaving her dangling, knees banging against the Right as the rope dropped past her.
Zarrah let go of the cliff, catching hold of the rope even as she reached with her free hand, the world a spiraling twist of darkening sky and rock and water as his fingernails scraped over the rock, grip lost.
He dangled from one hand on a crag below her, knuckles tight with strain. As she watched, he tried Falling.
Then her hand closed on his wrist.
They swung sideways on the rope, legs tangling in the length, her palm tearing as the rope dragged across it, only to jerk to a stop as her ankles got a grip. “Hold on,” she shouted at him, their bodies pressed together as their friends heaved, pulling them back up to safety.
Sobs tore from Zarrah’s lips as her father dragged her onto the path, Saam and Jor doing the same to Keris. Ignoring the agony that was her body, she clambered on hands and knees, pulling him into her arms.
He was bruised and bloodied, hair tangled around his face, but the sight of him made her heart beat with renewed strength. “You came for me.” A tear rolled down her cheek, stinging the scratches. “I knew you would. Even when they said you were dead, my heart wouldn’t let go.”