Page 62 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“You’re awake,” a voice said from behind him. Princess Hasana stood at the entrance of his room, her arms crossed as she leaned against the ornate doorway. Rook turned to her, instantly on the defensive. He instinctively reached to his hip, searching for his dagger.

“I’m sorry,” Hasana said sadly. “It is gone.” Sure enough, his dagger was nowhere to be found.

“How did I get here?” Rook demanded, narrowing his eyes at the Tellusun princess. “Where is my blade? What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Hasana answered, completely unbothered by his biting tone. “You almost didn’t make it, you know. You lost so much blood that I thought you’d never wake again. I would’ve left you in the arena, but Saoirse insisted we take you.” His heart burned at the sound of her name.

“Tell me she isn’t here,” he seethed through tight lips. “You shouldn't trust her. She tried to kill me.” Hasana gave him a sympathetic look, her eyes flashing.

“She is here,” the princess answered.

“Don’t let her near me,” Rook growled.

“It wasn’t her. The creature who tried to kill you was only wearing a disguise. Her name is Selussa. She used magic to take on Saoirse’s form.”

“She is a witch,” a voice called behind Hasana. The Tellusun princess stepped back, letting someone else into the room. Saoirse entered his chamber, her eyes bright with relief at the sight of him. Rook’s heart twisted with resentment as the Mer warrior strode forward.

“She is behind everything,” Saoirse continued softly. She began to take another step closer, but she hesitated when she sensed his hostility. Hasana vanished from the doorway, giving them privacy.

“I made a bargain with Selussa,” Saoirse admitted. “My father forbade me from competing in the Revelore Tournament. He turned the Maeral Sea against me and trapped me within Elorshin. So I did what I believed necessary. I turned to the Sea Witch so that she could break my father’s hold.”

Suspicion crept through Rook’s heart. He knew where this conversation was leading, but he didn’t want to face it.

“Selussa gave me the ability to overcome my father’s will and compete in the Tournament. In return, I had to fulfill her requirements,” she said slowly.

“What were her demands?” Rook rasped. His heart hardened into stone as Saoirse averted her eyes.

“I promised to kill you,” she whispered.

And there it was. The truth was out. It didn’t matter that Selussa had been the one to stab him in the arena. Saoirse had planned to kill him all along. She had known the whole time. It might as well have been her blade buried in his abdomen.

“Hel’s teeth,” he ground out. “All this time, you were planning on killing me. Every secret conversation we had, every exchange of affection; was it all done in the shadow of this bargain?”

“Yes and no,” Saoirse confessed. “At first I agreed to it easily enough. You are the heir of Aurandel. I was raised to hate your kind. Killing you wasn’t the worst choice,” she said candidly.

Rook scoffed, anger flickering in his heart like a growing flame.

“But, as I grew to know you, the last thing on my mind was fulfilling the bargain,” she continued. “Deep down, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Not after I realized that you’re not some faceless evil. You’re a person just like me. A person whose ancestors and history do not define you.”

“When were you planning on informing me of this, Saoirse?” Rook seethed. “After we were tangled in each other’s arms in your tent? After I bore my soul to you? After I went directly against my instincts and defied my Queen’s orders?”

“I broke the bargain with Selussa on the morning of the third trial,” Saoirse tried to explain. “I was going to find you. I was going to tell you everything. But she appeared in my tent and silenced me before that could happen.” Rook began pacing the room, unable to keep still as her words stung him with each sentence.

“Why did she even ask this of you?” he asked. “She doesn’t know me. I’ve never even heard of this witch in my life.”

“She wanted your blade,” she answered. “It cannot be taken unless its bearer is killed.”

Her words hit him like a physical blow. Memories of his mother rushed forth in his mind, her face so calm as she died. “I did not intend for you to have it so soon. But now I bestow it upon you in the hour of my death. Protect it well.” It all made sense now. She had given it to him in her final moments, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to possess it until she was gone.

“Why would she want it?” Rook asked, emotion thick in his voice. “It was my mother’s dagger, a simple family heirloom. And where is it now? How did she steal it from me if I am still alive?”

“You died, for a brief moment. Before Hasana healed you with her restorative magic, your heart stopped beating for a minute. That is how Selussa stole it.”

He straightened, forcing his hands to stop from trembling. “You didn’t answer my first question. Why would this Selussa want my blade in the first place?”

“She believes it is the dagger of Aris,” Saoirse said softly. “The blade that stabbed the heart of Deinos in the great battle between the Titans and the Four Kinsmen thousands of years ago.” Rook let out a bitter, barked laugh.

“Do you even hear yourself?” he scoffed. “The Myths of Old are just that: myths. This dagger isn’t anything special.” My mother would’ve told me, a small part of him said. If she had known, surely she would have informed him of the blade’s importance.

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