“Hurry!” the Usurper hissed, leading the way down the narrow path cut into the side of the cliff face. “They won’t be able to hold the bridge forever, and even if it burns, he’ll find a way across the river eventually. We need to be gone before he does.”
Zarrah’s heart skipped. What if Keris tried to swim across, not knowing about the falls? She left off her struggles and lifted her head, seeing the waterfall had turned orange and red in the sunset.
“The boat is waiting,” one of the soldiers said, and Zarrah cursed. For while the Usurper had not remembered the acoustics of the stadium, she had most certainly remembered the escape route the game masters took during the riots. She was prepared.
The pathway switched back, leading down, and Zarrah fought the urge to scream as she lost sight of the falls. “Keris!”
What if he fell and she didn’t see?
What if he already had, his body broken and caught in the endless flow at the base of the waterfall?
Panic rose in her chest, making it hard to breathe, but Zarrah dragged in an agonized breath. If he’s fallen, then you must stop her. Whatever it takes, you must stop her.
Zarrah slammed her weight sideways.
The soldier gasped as he swayed toward the deadly drop, letting go of her bound wrists to fling his arm out for balance.
She took advantage.
Lifting her torso, she twisted sideways. As his arm clamped around her body to try to lock her into place, Zarrah bit down on his ear.
The man screamed, shoving her away from him, only to lose his footing. He fell sideways off the cliff, his screams fading until they cut off abruptly.
Zarrah landed on her back on the pathway, the impact knocking the wind from her chest, the pain of her broken ribs making the world spin. Get up, she ordered herself. Fight.
She eased onto her hands and knees, lifting her face.
Only to find the tip of a blade pressed between her eyes.
The Usurper stood before her with a sword in hand, her last remaining bodyguard standing behind her on the narrow path. “He’s not coming, dear one,” she said. “So I think it safe to say that your usefulness is at its end.”
A shadow moved above, soundless as a cat.
“You keep saying that he’s not coming, Auntie,” Zarrah said with a wild grin as Keris jumped from the switchback above, landing behind the soldier. “Every time, you are wrong.”
Keris drew his sword. “Let her go, Petra.”
The Usurper stumbled away from Keris as her bodyguard attacked. She tripped over Zarrah and fell against the rock wall. Zarrah reached for her with bound wrists, catching hold of her leg to keep her from running.
The Usurper fell, her sword sliding up the path. She crawled forward, but Zarrah held on. If she escaped into the cavern, there might be other ways out. She might get away. She might come back, ever remaining Zarrah’s nightmare.
Zarrah could not let her go.
She clambered up the older woman’s body, bound wrists not stopping her fingers from closing around her throat.
Zarrah squeezed.
The Usurper’s eyes widened, and she clawed at Zarrah’s hands, skin purpling. “This is for my mother,” Zarrah said. “For Yrina. For Valcotta.”
She heard Keris grunt behind her, then the scream of the soldier as he was tossed off the edge of the cliff.
“But most of all,” Zarrah whispered, “it’s for me.”
Zarrah’s heart skipped. What if Keris tried to swim across, not knowing about the falls? She left off The Usurper went still, staring into Zarrah’s eyes. She twitched and jerked; then, with a last burst of strength, the Usurper threw her weight sideways.
Zarrah gasped, trying to counter the motion. But it was too late.
They were falling.
The pathway switched back, leading down, and Zarrah fought the urge to scream as she lost sight of What if he already had, his body broken and caught in the endless flow at the base of the waterfall?
The soldier gasped as he swayed toward the deadly drop, letting go of her bound wrists to fling his Zarrah landed on her back on the pathway, the impact knocking the wind from her chest, the pain of
“You keep saying that he’s not coming, Auntie,” Zarrah said with a wild grin as Keris jumped from
She heard Keris grunt behind her, then the scream of the soldier as he was tossed off the edge of the cliff.
“But most of all,” Zarrah whispered, “it’s for me.”
The Usurper went still, staring into Zarrah’s eyes. She twitched and jerked; then, with a last burst of strength, the Usurper threw her weight sideways.
Zarrah gasped, trying to counter the motion. But it was too late.
They were falling.
“ZARRAH!” HE SHOUTED as she crawled after Petra, trying to knock the soldier in his path out of the way to reach them. There was nowhere for Petra to go, for his companions would
catch her on their way down. “Zarrah, let her go!”
It was as if she didn’t hear him, her bloodied face a mask of desperate determination as she reached for Petra’s throat.
The soldier slashed at him and Keris parried, knocking the man off-balance. A punch to the jaw sent him stumbling off the edge, revealing Zarrah atop Petra, strangling her.
Then Petra rolled.
No.
Memories flashed before his eyes. Of himself diving and reaching, Otis’s clothes brushing his fingers as he fell to his death. Of Serin just out of reach, his plunge setting a nightmare into motion.
Not her.
Keris dove forward, the bare skin of her arm slipping through his grasp as she dropped from sight.
“ZARRAH!” HE SHOUTED as she crawled after Petra, trying to knock the soldier in his path out of the way to reach them. There was nowhere for Petra to go, for his companions would
catch her on their way down. “Zarrah, let her go!”
It was as if she didn’t hear him, her bloodied face a mask of desperate determination as she reached for Petra’s throat.
The soldier slashed at him and Keris parried, knocking the man off-balance. A punch to the jaw sent him stumbling off the edge, revealing Zarrah atop Petra, strangling her.
Then Petra rolled.
No.
Memories flashed before his eyes. Of himself diving and reaching, Otis’s clothes brushing his fingers as he fell to his death. Of Serin just out of reach, his plunge setting a nightmare into motion.
Not her.
Keris dove forward, the bare skin of her arm slipping through his grasp as she dropped from sight.
HIS FINGERS BRUSHED over her arm, trying and failing to stop her plunge, and Zarrah screamed as she fell.
Only to stop short as Keris caught hold of the rope between her wrists, her shoulders
nearly wrenching from their sockets, for the Usurper had hold of her as well.
“Kick her off!” he shouted. “I can’t hold you both!”
Zarrah sucked in a panicked breath because with each heartbeat, Keris slid another inch over the edge; there was nothing for him to grasp for leverage.
“Zarrah, please!”
Her eyes shot downward to where the Usurper dangled from her belt. Below, the deadly plunge, the rocks on the riverbank already splattered red from the fallen guards.
“Dear one, please! Please don’t let me fall!”
Their eyes met, and Zarrah’s stomach flipped.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything,” the Usurper pleaded. “I will make it up to you, I promise. I’ll go into exile, never give you trouble again. Just don’t let me fall.”
They jerked downward, Keris cursing. “Goddamn it, Zarrah! Don’t listen to her!”
“I love you, Zarrah,” her aunt pleaded. “More than anyone in the world. I gave you everything I had. Helped you become strong.” Her lip quivered. “I was afraid of losing you, that’s all. Afraid of being alone. Please!”
“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.”