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The Endless War (The Bridge Kingdom, #4)(50)

Author:Danielle L. Jensen

the pain. Kian was waiting at the border; all she needed to do was make it across. It would be into the

“They send supplies!” Zarrah took a step forward, only for Kian to catch her arm, giving his head a warning shake.

“Not enough.” Daria exhaled a long breath. “Just enough to ensure that we have the strength to turn on each other rather than to turn on the Empress. Kian and his tribe purge the children. The elderly.

The weak. It is because we refused to do that to our family that we were forced to walk another road, Zarrah. To protect those we cared about, we painted our souls black, but never doubt that it is the Empress who handed us the brush.”

“There isn’t an innocent soul on this island,” Kian answered before Zarrah could. “Everyone is a murderer, but there are some of us who have limits to what we will do.”

Daria choked out a laugh. “Explain to me how killing your own children is better than surviving on the flesh of the fallen, Kian. Better yet, explain it to Zarrah.”

A shiver ran through her, but Zarrah clenched her teeth. She’d seen how Daria could spin words until those who heard them forgot their own thoughts, and she refused to be so manipulated now. “If you really believed your actions were just, you’d have told me the truth. Instead I’ve lived among you for weeks, trusted your word, only to discover that you’ve lied to me this entire time. If I must bed down with villains, let it be with those who do not deny their crimes!”

Not giving Daria a chance to respond, she twisted on her heel and strode down the slope.

“Zarrah!” The woman’s voice chased her. “We were trying to save you! If you go with them, you are lost! Please!”

“Better lost than whatever you are,” Zarrah answered, refusing to look back.

“No shit.” Zarrah spat out the dirt she’d gotten in her mouth. “Those who know they’re prey tend to

“She ain’t your own, rebel,” Kian retorted. “She’s a royal—one of the very people you were trying

what we do.”

Do what they do. Visions of the slaughtered men being stuffed into barrels flashed through Zarrah’s eyes, and her fury burned hot. “Stay away from me!” She scrambled to her feet. “You eat people.

You’re a fucking cannibal—a monster!”

Daria flinched. “Not by choice. It was that or starve.”

“Better to starve!”

“Says the woman who has never gone without!” Daria’s hands fisted. “You know we don’t belong here. You know that the Empress put us in this place to silence those who contest her tyranny. You know that she relishes the knowledge that we suffer, that we must reduce ourselves to beasts in order to survive.”

“They send supplies!” Zarrah took a step forward, only for Kian to catch her arm, giving his head a warning shake.

“Not enough.” Daria exhaled a long breath. “Just enough to ensure that we have the strength to turn on each other rather than to turn on the Empress. Kian and his tribe purge the children. The elderly.

The weak. It is because we refused to do that to our family that we were forced to walk another road, Zarrah. To protect those we cared about, we painted our souls black, but never doubt that it is the Empress who handed us the brush.”

“There isn’t an innocent soul on this island,” Kian answered before Zarrah could. “Everyone is a murderer, but there are some of us who have limits to what we will do.”

Daria choked out a laugh. “Explain to me how killing your own children is better than surviving on the flesh of the fallen, Kian. Better yet, explain it to Zarrah.”

A shiver ran through her, but Zarrah clenched her teeth. She’d seen how Daria could spin words until those who heard them forgot their own thoughts, and she refused to be so manipulated now. “If you really believed your actions were just, you’d have told me the truth. Instead I’ve lived among you for weeks, trusted your word, only to discover that you’ve lied to me this entire time. If I must bed down with villains, let it be with those who do not deny their crimes!”

Not giving Daria a chance to respond, she twisted on her heel and strode down the slope.

“Zarrah!” The woman’s voice chased her. “We were trying to save you! If you go with them, you are lost! Please!”

“Better lost than whatever you are,” Zarrah answered, refusing to look back.

THOSE AT THE oars didn’t have to row long until the current caught hold of the longboat and driftwood, tugging them toward the orange glow of torches illuminating the entrance to the island. Keris’s heart thudded with increasing violence as they approached, his mouth dry and his hands like ice.

What if this didn’t work?

What if he was seen?

Flickers of motion in front of the torches spoke to the number of Valcottan soldiers guarding the half-moon-shaped pier. Soldiers who’d be armed to the teeth and skilled enough to put a dozen arrows in his back as he floated past.

“Close enough,” Aren muttered, and the oars dipped into the water, rowing backward to keep the longboat in place. The logs they towed floated around them.

“Last chance to retreat,” Aren said. “Once you’re in the water, there is no turning back.”

“My only path leads to her.” Flipping his legs over the edge, Keris slipped into the water.

It felt like knives were stabbing him all over, stealing his breath and sending a slice of panic through his veins. Instinct demanded he climb back into the boat, but Keris forced himself to swim, taking hold of the trunk with the most branches. Water swirled around him, the driftwood jostling, and his breath caught.

“Don’t forget to keep your legs moving,” Aren whispered. “If you stay still, you’re going to freeze.”

The crew didn’t wait for his response, only released the driftwood. The tree moved toward the glowing pier.

The only sound was the slap of water against wood. The surf should have been loud, but rather than an ebb and surge, it felt as though he were caught in a river flowing silently into hell. All around was blackness, the moon hidden by a cloud.

Trust the current, he told himself. You know exactly where it flows.

Yet it felt like he was alone in a vast sea of nothingness, swimming in every direction but none, never reaching his goal.

Splash.

Keris jerked, looking back to the longboat, but it was lost to blackness. What had splashed? What was in the water with him?

Something brushed his leg, and he froze. A shark? Something worse?

The water swirled around him, and Keris heard something take a breath. He swung wildly, his fist finding air, then water, then flesh. A grunt of annoyance, then Aren’s voice hissed, “Calm the fuck down. You’re panting like a dying dog. They’re going to hear you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“There is no chance you won’t get yourself killed if you go in alone,” Aren said. “And I owe Zarrah. Now shut up before someone hears you.”

Keris clenched his teeth, willing his breathing to steady, hunting for calmness in the storm of emotion he felt.

“Don’t move,” Aren whispered. “Keep low.”

Voices filtered over the water. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, but the tone was of soldiers bored out of their minds and putting in the least possible effort.

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