Guilt that he didn’t entirely understand, because Ithicana couldn’t have asked for a better result.
One definitive battle, which they won. One definitive battle, in which Lara had killed their father and regained Ithicana’s favor. One definitive fucking battle that had Maridrina removed from Ithicana entirely. None of those outcomes would have occurred if not for his actions. It would have been prolonged and bloody, and at the end of it, his father would have still been king, and peace would have remained a fantasy for both nations. This was the best possible outcome.
But not the one you anticipated.
Keris clenched his teeth, hating the truth.
You didn’t expect them to win, his guilt whispered. All you cared about was preventing her treason, saving her, protecting the dream you shared of ending the Endless War, and if Ithicana burned to achieve it, you didn’t care. Yet for all your plots and plans, Zarrah was still condemned.
“Fuck me,” Dax muttered, tearing Keris from his misery. His guard had paused in his rowing, the boat drifting as he stared at the scene before him.
Keris silently echoed the man’s words, for they were fitting. The tunnel had opened up into a massive cavern harbor full of the ships the Ithicanians favored. Entirely protected from the legendary typhoons of the Tempest Seas and hidden from the eyes of outsiders, some of the vessels were so large, he wasn’t certain how they got them out of the cavern at all.
Motion caught his attention, drawing it to the far side of the harbor, where a flat piece of rock jutted longboat. Their faces, tanned by the sun, would have blended into the masses in a Maridrinian market,into the water. Beyond rose a flight of stairs. Armed men waited on the platform with ropes to secure the longboat, which gave him some small comfort that they didn’t intend to send him right back the way he’d come.
As the longboat bumped against the stone dock, Keris pulled back the hood of his cloak and met the eyes of one of the waiting men—an older soldier who looked as though he’d faced all the world had to throw at him and spat every bit of it back.
“I’d ask if you’re Keris Veliant,” the man said, “but given you look like Lara with a cock strapped rattle cut the air, the portcullis rising. Seaweed dangled from the bars that had been submerged, water on to her, it seems an unnecessary use of words.”
Keris huffed out an amused breath. “Don’t forget the balls.”
“Nah.” The man spat into the water. “Lass has the biggest balls I’ve ever seen, whereas you …”
“Watch yourself,” Dax growled. “This is the King of Maridrina you’re speaking to, and you will
—”
“Let it go.” Keris waved a calming hand, curiosity drowning his trepidation as he looked up the stairs. All he could see was the swirling grey of the cloudy sky. “May we disembark?”
“By all means, Your Grace.” The man gave a mocking bow and several of the other Ithicanians chuckled, their eyes cold.
Rising to his feet, Keris stepped onto the platform, finding little comfort in having solid rock beneath him. Dax tried to step out of the boat after him, but the Ithicanian shoved him hard, and Keris’s bodyguard landed on his back in the longboat.
Keris’s temper snapped.
He barely remembered reaching for his knife, which meant he was as surprised as the old soldier to find it pressed against the man’s chest. “Do not harm my people.”
“Well, now.” The Ithicanian’s eyes brightened with interest. “The wolf finally bares his teeth. Aren said you aren’t the sheep you pretend to be, but I have to admit, I didn’t believe him. You’re too guilt had broken some critical part ofpretty.” He flipped a lock of Keris’s hair back with a flick of one finger, seemingly unconcerned as Keris’s blade dug into his flesh. “Should’ve learned my lesson with your sister.”
Keris stared him down, allowing the darkness in his core to peer out.
Silence stretched, but it was the Ithicanian who looked away first.
“All right. You’ve made your point. No one will touch your crew.” Slowly reaching up, the man pulled the knife from Keris’s grip. “I’ll be taking this, though.”
“What’s your name?” Keris asked. “So I know who to look for when I want it back.”
The Ithicanian threw back his head and laughed, teeth bright white against skin tanned dark. “It’s Jor. And you’ll get it back when Aren says so. Now if you head up those stairs, you’ll find who you’re looking for.”
Keris climbed the slick steps and out of the cavern into open air. Though the sunlight was watered down by rainclouds, his eyes still stung at the sudden brightness, and he blinked rapidly to clear them as he took in the scene.
It was like stepping into the pages of a book, for it didn’t seem possible that such a place could exist.
Covering the steep slopes of the volcano crater, the city’s streets and houses and gardens wove seamlessly into the natural vegetation, all of it reflected in a lake in the basin. Trees and vines wrapped around the buildings, their roots digging deep into the earth, everything shades of browns and greens and greys.
Motion caught his attention, drawing it to the far side of the harbor, where a flat piece of rock jutted In another life, he’d have abandoned duty and climbed the slopes, explored every inch of the city, then gone to the summit to look out over the world. But he’d come here for a reason, and every minute he tarried was another Zarrah remained trapped in that hellhole.
What if they refuse to help?
As the longboat bumped against the stone dock, Keris pulled back the hood of his cloak and met the What if coming here was a mistake?
Keris shoved away the thoughts, focusing on the small group of people standing at the center of a paved pathway, Aren Kertell at the center of them. Aren wore the same drab tunic and trousers as his soldiers, his thick leather boots scuffed and worn, and what looked like a machete strapped to his
back. Yet there was no mistaking him for anything other than the king of this place. Whereas in Vencia, he’d been a fish out of water, here Aren blended into the wildness of Ithicana even as he dominated it, and Keris found himself grudgingly conceding that he may have underestimated the other man.
“Keris.” Aren’s eyes were unreadable. “Welcome to Eranahl.”
Welcome was a stretch, but given Aren hadn’t immediately stabbed him in the chest, it was a start.
“I see now why you fought so hard to protect it from the world.”
Aren inclined his head but said nothing. At his right, a tall woman with a scarred but beautiful face narrowed her hazel eyes, expression full of distrust. Princess Ahnna Kertell was Keris’s guess, and he silently sent his condolences to William of Harendell, because the Prince was deeply out of his league.
His skin abruptly prickled, giving Keris a heartbeat of warning before sharp steel dug into his spine.
Because it was his nature, Keris went on the offensive.
“How fitting that it will be a knife to the back, Lara,” he said. “It seems old habits die hard.”
“Must be in the blood,” she answered softly. “For your knife found Ithicana’s spine with unerring precision.”
“Well, now.” The Ithicanian’s eyes brightened with interest. “The wolf finally bares his teeth. Aren