Royce went still, apparently aware of what had befallen their half brother. Beneath his rage, part of Boots scuffed behind him, and Keris turned his head to find Dax watching, the man’s brow
furrowed. “Have a healer see to him; then take him up somewhere secure.” Then he locked eyes with his brother. “I am not Father. But that doesn’t mean my patience is limitless. Test me again, and I’ll drag you out to the Red Desert and bury you alive myself.”
Royce gave a tight nod.
back to Royce. “Prefer to speak in private?” Not waiting for Royce to answer, he said, “Dax, take the
“He’s right,” Keris told Dax once two of his men had dragged a moaning Royce away. “More of men and go watch over my sister. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to her while my back is turned.” my half brothers will come, and not all of them are as stupid as Royce. I want eyes familiar with their faces on all the gates and in the harbor.”
Once they were gone, Keris said, “There, Royce. We’re alone. What would you like to say to me?”
“What do you plan to do with them when they show?”
His father’s voice echoed in his head. When you are heir, you are the target of all. You can expect no loyalty from your brothers, and all but the cowards will come for you at one point or another. If you live to inherit, they’ll come for your sons. It is the way of it, and it is also the reason you have no uncles still living.
“I will do whatever I must.”
was favored by me and thought to capitalize upon it. Either to ransom her for gold or to use her to lure Keris laughed along with him, ignoring the part of himself that cringed at the coldness in it. “You’re right about that being the way of things. Or would be if I were still only your brother and a prince, not
What color remained in Royce’s cheeks drained away. “Ker—Your Grace, please. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I—”
“You already did hurt her.” Had reminded her that nowhere was safe. That everywhere she went, pain would follow, for no reason other than her name. “Why would I show you any mercy?”
Royce squared his shoulders. “Fuck you, Keris. You can have one of your lackeys cut off my head and spike it on the gate, but know that I’m only the first. Your blood is coming for you. Coming to rip the crown from your pathetic head because Maridrina deserves a warrior on its throne, not a weakling who hid in a library!”
Maridrina did deserve better than him. But Royce wasn’t the answer—none of his brothers were.
“Let them come.”
Boots scuffed behind him, and Keris turned his head to find Dax watching, the man’s brow
furrowed. “Have a healer see to him; then take him up somewhere secure.” Then he locked eyes with his brother. “I am not Father. But that doesn’t mean my patience is limitless. Test me again, and I’ll drag you out to the Red Desert and bury you alive myself.”
Royce gave a tight nod.
“He’s right,” Keris told Dax once two of his men had dragged a moaning Royce away. “More of my half brothers will come, and not all of them are as stupid as Royce. I want eyes familiar with their faces on all the gates and in the harbor.”
“What do you plan to do with them when they show?”
His father’s voice echoed in his head. When you are heir, you are the target of all. You can expect no loyalty from your brothers, and all but the cowards will come for you at one point or another. If you live to inherit, they’ll come for your sons. It is the way of it, and it is also the reason you have no uncles still living.
“I will do whatever I must.”
THERE WERE SEVEN of them, three women and four men, all wearing worn and dirty clothing that appeared patched together from rags. All had long, unwashed hair, and the men bore thick
beards, their bodies thin but hard. Four of the seven had skin a shade of brown, three were paler, all filthy.
And all carried weapons.
Cudgels and staffs and knives that looked to be formed from scraps of scavenged metal. All more than capable of taking a life.
“Welcome to Devil’s Island,” one of them said, a man as big as Bermin, with a curling black beard that matched his hair. He grinned, revealing an entire mouthful of gold teeth, and stepped closer. “It’s been an age since we had any fresh meat.”
Meat.
Cannibals.
Zarrah didn’t hesitate. Flinging the stone at the man, she leapt to her feet and broke into a sprint, his cry of pain chasing her up the hill. She could see the shadowed outline of trees and larger boulders
ahead, but the rest was lost to shadows.
She stumbled, ankle twisting on the rocks, but managed to keep her footing. Stone clacked against stone as the cannibals broke into pursuit, the rapid footfalls suggesting they’d not be easily outpaced.
“Stop,” one of them shouted. “We aren’t going to hurt you!”
Just eat me, she thought, then put on a burst of speed.
Small rocks gave way to larger boulders. Zarrah leapt between them, racing toward the treeline, the light from the braziers hanging from the cliffs fading away. The prisoners would know every inch of their island prison. Might well have traps laid or have more of their companions lying in wait to catch her, but the heavy breathing of those in pursuit was loud in her ears. There was no time for caution.
She needed to find a place to hide.
Zarrah reached the trees, the scent of pine thick as her sodden boots crunched the carpet of fallen needles, the cold air burning her lungs. There were well-trodden paths, but Zarrah avoided them.
Wove through the blackness between trees and headed to higher ground, banking that her being well fed and strong would give her the advantage.
“Stop!” the big man roared, and Zarrah hazarded a backward glance.
He was close enough that she could see the glint of moonlight reflecting off his teeth, others hot on his heels.
“We want to help you!”
Bullshit.
She needed to get farther ahead. Needed a few heartbeats out of sight to hide in the darkness, but the cursed bastard kept pace. Higher and higher she climbed, and it occurred to Zarrah that she had no idea of the size of the island prison. No idea whether she was strides away from reaching the moat of water encircling it or whether it stretched on for another mile.
Icy wind ripped at her hair and clothes as she crested the summit, her heart skittering as she took in the sight. Lit up with endless braziers was a spiral of water that circled out to the blackness of the sea, all visible from her vantage.
Yet there was no time to take it in. No time to consider escape from the island when it was the prisoners within that she needed to evade.
She sprinted across the top of the summit, her breathing ragged and sides burning.
Only for her feet to snag on something hidden in the darkness.
of them, three women and four men, all wearing worn and dirty clothing that
Zarrah tripped and rolled, body bouncing against rocks and roots until she came to a stop.
Get up! Run!
A groan tore from her lips as she hauled herself back to her feet, her head aching and blood dripping down her cheek. Snatching up a rock from the ground, she whirled—
Only to find her pursuers stopped a dozen paces away, refusing to pass the low barrier of rocks she’d tripped over.
“If you value your life, you’ll come back to our territory,” the man called. “There is only death to
“Welcome to Devil’s Island,” one of them said, a man as big as Bermin, with a curling black beard be found where you are going.”
“As opposed to the long life awaiting me with you?” Zarrah laughed bitterly, then pressed a hand to her side as pain lanced outward. “My gratitude for the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
“They’ll kill you, woman! Kill you and—” Breaking off, he took a wary step back, lifting his cudgel.
Zarrah didn’t hesitate. Flinging the stone at the man, she leapt to her feet and broke into a sprint, his Zarrah’s skin prickled, realization that she might have made a fatal error sinking into her soul a heartbeat before a hand clamped over her mouth.