Saam looked away. “It’s all everyone else sees. It’s all they think of when they look at me. Saam the cannibal. ” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “Part of me thinks that the only reason the commander has allowed us back into the ranks is because the alternative was to put us all down. We know too much.”
“Zarrah won’t let him do that,” Keris said without hesitation. “And if it comes to it, there will always be a place for you in Maridrina as long as I rule. Ithicana as well, I imagine, though I don’t recommend it. Terrible weather and far too many snakes.”
Saam barked out a laugh, but then his expression grew serious. “You would harbor Valcottan convicts with a reputation for cannibalism?”
“My reputation is already shit, so I doubt my people would even blink.” Taking a mouthful of the ale, Keris added, “You will likely never fully escape this stigma, Saam. Not any of you. But you can
overcome it by giving your people something better to remember about you. Great things to outshine from Petra and liberate Valcotta; it was a war to reclaim her self-worth. To deny her that would make dark deeds.”
Saam’s brow furrowed, and then he nodded. “You’re right. Thank you.”
Keris shrugged, abruptly aware of Zarrah’s eyes on him. Watching. Listening. Yet betraying nothing of her thoughts on her face.
Unease ran through him, because if she’d been listening, then she’d heard him commit her to protecting the prisoners. Which he had no business doing on her behalf, and Keris silently kicked himself for speaking without thinking. Biting the insides of his cheeks, he forced himself to meet her gaze, wary of what he might find there. Afraid that he’d crossed the line.
But Zarrah only gave a slight nod, her mouth curling upward in a faint smile as she turned back to Daria.
Keris had no opportunity to feel relieved as something hammered against the floor beneath his feet.
“Shit,” he snarled, scrambling backward, but Saam only frowned and dropped to his knees, opening the trapdoor beneath the cushion Keris had been sitting on. In the darkness of the cellar, two faces appeared, both of which he recognized from Daria’s camp on the island. “We’ve got more trouble,”
Daria and Zarrah moved to sit together on a pile of cushions, deep in conversation. So Keris turned to one said. “Welran’s ordered sympathizers detained. His soldiers are burning their homes and beating them for information on the commander’s whereabouts.” The man looked past Saam and Keris to Zarrah. “For information on your whereabouts, Empress. We need to get out of here quick.”
Keris knew even before Zarrah spoke what she’d say, so it was no surprise when she stood up.
Saam pulled a loose thread on a cushion. “It’s not been how I envisioned it would. I always thought“I’m not running while others are tortured for information on my whereabouts. We need to take action.”
“We don’t have the soldiers,” the man said.
Daria added, “It’s true. The rebel camp isn’t in Arakis. The commander isn’t here, only my tribe.
We were tasked with securing you because you know us from the island.” Daria dragged her hands over her hair, face tight with anxiety. “I don’t know where the latest camp location is, but I’d hazard that help is hours away, and we have no way to contact them. We were told to bring you here and that they’d come to us.”
Given what Saam had told him, Keris knew there was no chance at all that the commander didn’t have his best and most trusted soldiers watching them, and from the way Zarrah’s mouth gave an annoyed twist, she was thinking the same.
merely a footnote in my adventures on the island.” Keris rested his elbow on a cushion, leaning into it
“The commander will have eyes on the city.” Zarrah’s voice was steady. “When they see us take action, they’ll contact him. He’ll have no choice but to come with force, and the rebellion has enough fighters to drive Welran and his imperial guard out of Arakis.”
“He won’t risk it,” Daria argued. “It would be an act of provocation the Usurper couldn’t ignore.
She’ll move against us. Defeat us. Burn Arakis as punishment.”
“You think that’s not already on the horizon?” Zarrah gave her head a sharp shake. “You think my aunt doesn’t already have plans to attack us? Destroy us? Allowing her to kill our allies isn’t going to change that! It only means fewer to stand against her when she comes. We must stay, and we must act!”
Zarrah was right, but Keris could see the fear in Daria’s eyes. Her tribe had endured horror on Devil’s Island, and part of what had kept them going was the dream of challenging Petra. Making her pay for all that she’d done. The moment to act was upon them, but the looming shadow of the woman who’d hurt them so deeply now seemed an impossible adversary to face. “Zarrah is right.”
Zarrah’s gaze shot to him, eyes filled with surprise.
“Welran either knows or strongly suspects that Zarrah has joined forces with the rebels,” he said.
“If we do nothing to help those who have supported your cause for so long, if we leave them to be tortured while their homes are burned, he will ensure that the survivors know that Zarrah had the Keris shrugged, abruptly aware of Zarrah’s eyes on him. Watching. Listening. Yet betraying nothing opportunity to act but instead abandoned them. At best, it will be seen as cowardice, at worst, as betrayal, and even though it is the Usurper’s soldiers who have done the harm, it will be Zarrah they blame. We cannot run.”
The rebels shifted on uneasy feet, but Keris saw Saam mouth, “Great things,” to himself before lifting his head. “We faced far worse odds on the island. Now we’re fed. We’re armed. And we do not abandon our comrades.”
All eyes turned to Daria, who gave a slow nod. “All right. We hold our ground and try to come up with a plan that won’t get us all killed.”
Keris had no opportunity to feel relieved as something hammered against the floor beneath his feet.
“Send our spies to gather what information they can about where Welran is keeping the prisoners and for a count on how many soldiers he has. Then gather our fighters here,” Zarrah said.
The men’s faces disappeared back into the cellar, a draft flooding into the room as they exited into the rear alley, leaving the four of them alone again. Daria and Saam bent their heads together, muttering about who was where within the city, but to Keris’s surprise, Zarrah didn’t join them.
Instead she crossed the floor to stand before him.
“If Welran knows I’m here, then this isn’t just a gambit to learn the commander’s location,” she said. “It’s a plan to lure me out, for he knows me well. Knows that I won’t run.”
“Agreed.” Every inhalation filled Keris’s nose with the scent of her, lavender soap from her time in the baths still clinging to her hair. His eyes went to her bottom lip, caught between her front teeth as she strategized, and it made his heart pound. Swallowing hard, Keris said under his breath, “But he also expects you to be predictable and is unlikely to plan outside of the scope of what he expects you to do. That puts the power back in your hands.”
A face appeared in the cellar, a girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen. “Welran’s got them in the harbor market square. His soldiers are putting hot irons to their feet to get them to talk.”
A torture that Serin had favored, and Keris’s stomach curled with disgust to see it deployed on civilians by their own ruler’s right hand. It was no wonder that the Magpie had admired Petra—she was the sort of ruler creatures like him thrived beneath.
“How many soldiers?” Zarrah asked.
“I counted sixty,” the girl answered. “Most are holding back the crowd of onlookers. Ain’t going to be long before someone breaks and talks.”