The Bridge Kingdom (The Bridge Kingdom #1)(50)
“Goddamn idiots. What were they thinking parking a whole merchant party above Gamire for the night?”
It was Jor. He and who knew how many others were on top of the bridge with her.
Heart thudding, Lara dropped to her stomach, crawling to the edge and peering over. Below, a group exited from the trees, one of them carrying a jar of a faintly glowing substance.
“They don’t know they’re above Gamire, Jor.” Lia’s voice. “That’s the whole damn point.”
“Doesn’t make it less of a pain in our asses.”
Lara rolled to the opposite edge from the party below, then carefully lowered herself down the side, her sweating fingers quivering from the effort.
“Are you two about finished up there?”
Aren’s voice. One of Lara’s hands slipped, and she gasped, dangling from one hand until she regained her grip.
“We had a look. There’s a merchant party camped for the night right below us, and the topside hatch is too close for us to enter undetected. It’s a three-mile walk either direction to the next hatch, and with those winds blowing in, I wouldn’t advise it. No one is looking to spend the night tied to the bridge top in the pouring rain.”
Aren let out a weary sigh. “By boat it is, then.”
“And rough waters. I hope whatever Nana gave your lovely bride will settle her stomach enough for the journey. Though something strong might be in order to deal with her damned panic.”
“Leave Lara alone.” Aren’s voice wasn’t amused. “She was raised in the desert, and she can’t swim. Falling in the water is a valid fear.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jor muttered, and Lara used the sound to clamber down farther. When she was ten feet from the bottom, she jumped, her bare feet making only the faintest slap as she hit the ground and rolled, taking five long steps until she was out of sight in the trees. Mud squished between her toes as she circled around, watching as Aren rested his hands against the pier, one above the other, and pressed twice. A faint click, and a panel of rock swung open. He went inside.
Above, Jor and Lia had looped a rope through one of the many rings embedded in the bridge and were climbing down the pier side by side. Lia was pulling the rope through the loop when Aren reemerged and said, “There’s someone sleeping right against the bloody door.”
“Like I said,” Jor replied. “Idiots.”
“It is what it is. Let’s go.” Aren started down the path toward Nana’s home. To retrieve her, she realized.
Shit. Lara waited until the others had followed before creeping up to the pier to retrieve her boots from their hiding place. It was going to be a mad dash to get back to Nana’s ahead of them undetected, but she couldn’t leave without having a look inside. Pressing her hands twice in the same spot Aren had, Lara grinned as the door swung open.
She’d expected it to be entirely dark inside, but the curved stairs leading upward were illuminated by more glowing jars. Taking the steps three at a time, she reached a smooth stone wall. Knowing there was a risk of being caught, but judging it worth the reward, she pressed her hands against it twice.
Click.
She winced at the sound, then eased the door open a crack, the heavy block moving on silent hinges. There was indeed a man sleeping in front of it, his snores likely all that had kept the masked Ithicanian soldiers sitting guard inside from hearing the noise.
The doorway needed to be marked so her father’s soldiers could find it from the inside. Yet she knew the Ithicanians swept the bridge for any signs of tampering, so it had to be something they wouldn’t notice.
Her mind raced through the years of Serin’s lessons, knowing she needed a solution and that it needed to present itself immediately or Aren was going to reach Nana’s before her and find her missing.
An idea sprung into her thoughts. Pulling out her knife, Lara sliced open a shallow wound on her forearm then tucked away the blade. Covering her fingers in blood, she carefully traced the outer rim of the door. Once dry, it wouldn’t be noticeable against the stone. But if sprayed with the right compound, it would react.
There was no time to do anything else.
Carefully closing the door, Lara flew down the stairs and pushed the door in the base shut. Then she was running as fast as she dared, her bare feet scraping against roots and rocks. But she couldn’t move this swiftly in her heavy Ithicanian boots while maintaining any level of silence.
Ahead, she picked out the faint glow of the jar Aren carried, and she slowed her speed, moving up as close behind them as she dared. She considered trying to pass them in the trees, but there was no chance of them not hearing her. Not in the dark, at this pace.
Nana’s house appeared ahead.
Think of a plan, she silently screamed at herself even as she watched Aren round the house. Open the door. He was back out in a flash shouting, “Where is she?”
Tugging on her boots, Lara cut into the trees, then stepped out into the clearing, walking through it toward Aren. “I’m right here, so quit yelling.”
He stared at her, as did his bodyguard and the guard tasked with watching the house. Nana chose that moment to fling open the door to the outhouse clad only in a nightdress and boots.
“What,” Aren demanded, “are you doing wandering the woods in the middle of the night?”
Serin’s voice echoed through her head: Most people lie to avoid embarrassment. Very few people lie to embarrass themselves, which inclines others to believe them.