Page 11 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“I’ve studied everything there is to know. Auarandel is ruled by Queen Raven Adonia, The Champion,” she answered. “And her younger brother, Rook Adonia, rules alongside her. He is captain of the Aerials.”

“I suspect that you know Prince Rook will be competing in the Tournament, then?” Selussa asked, carrying the crystal bowl over to the cauldron of green flames at the center of the room. “He was chosen just like his sister before him, you know,” she added. Saoirse said nothing, waiting for the Sea Witch to continue. “I want you to kill the prince.”

“You want me to kill Prince Rook?” Saoirse repeated. “Why?”

“I want to see Aurandel fall just as much as the next Mer in Elorshin,” Selussa replied, her black eyes glistening in the light of the flames. “What better way to overthrow our enemies than by killing their beloved princeling? By silencing their sole military leader? By crushing the heart of their mighty Queen?” She tossed the contents of the crystal bowl into the flames suddenly. The flames hissed, exploding up to the ceiling and changing into a pale blue color. The flames receded just as fast as they had stretched upward, settling back into a small fire after a moment.

“It will be easy,” Selussa remarked. “You’ll already be fighting for your life in the arena. Anyone would understand an accidental death in the name of self-defense. Bargaining with your life is the price to pay for glory, and everyone who chooses to compete in the Tournament knows that.”

“But what do you have against the Auran royal family, besides the general hatred we all harbor for them?” Saoirse asked. It didn’t make sense. For someone locked up in the Fretum, she would’ve thought Selussa would hate those who imprisoned her, not some outside enemy kingdom.

“Prince Rook possesses a blade that can only be taken from his fingers in the event of his death,” Selussa explained. “It is bound to him, you see. Only when his heart stops will the blade be free for the taking.”

“Why do you want this dagger so badly?” Saoirse probed, crossing her arms.

“The blade is not rightfully his,” Selussa snapped, her patience fraying with every word. “If you keep nagging me with all these questions, our deal is off. You came to me for help,” she pointed out. “I don’t have to do this for you. I owe you nothing.”

“Fine,” Saoirse conceded. Killing him would mean one less Auran royal to worry about. She was so close to having everything she wanted. “I’ll kill the prince in the trials and bring you his dagger,” she promised. She balled her hands into fists, growing more anxious the longer she stayed in the cave. “I have met all your requirements. It’s time for you to return the favor.”

The Sea Witch turned to her, shadows moving across the sharp planes of her face. “Blood,” Selussa barked, directing her gaze to Saoirse’s arm. Before she had time to react, Adda sliced a blade across her forearm and blood clouded around her skin. Adda pressed a glass vial to the cut, trapping blood inside and sealing it with a cork. She brought the vial over to Selussa, presenting it with a bow. The Sea Witch took the glass carefully, and Saoirse could’ve sworn she licked her lips. In a flash, Selussa slid a dagger-sharp nail against her own skin, dark red blood pooling around her. Adda captured Selussa’s blood the same way she had just captured Saoirse’s, closing it in a vial. Adda handed the glass vial to Saoirse.

“We have a deal,” Selussa murmured. “Blood is more valuable than gold. It can unlock doors and seal promises. It can bring great fortune and favor, but it can be spilled so easily. Now I have a piece of you, and you have a piece of me. We are bound together now.”

“If I fail to kill the prince,” Saoirse suddenly asked, “what then?”

“Should you fail,” Selussa answered slowly, “your life shall take the place of Prince Rook’s. And if you tell anyone of what I’ve done for you,” she hissed, “you can be sure that I’ll end your life before you step foot on shore.”

Saoirse was silent for a moment, the gravity of the bargain she had just made finally sinking in. “Why would you take my life in his stead?” she protested. “I am not a suitable substitute.”

“This bargain requires a life in order to be fulfilled, whether or not I acquire the dagger,” Selussa snapped. “Enough games. No more questions. Do you wish to continue or not?”

“So be it,” Saoirse finally said. “I will fulfill your bargain.”

“Forgive me for doubting your word,” Selussa chuckled, a dark malignant sound. “But I have always struggled to believe promises from the mouths of sirens. If you make this vow, you cannot break it. Do you understand?”

Saoirse flinched at the derogatory term. Siren. That demonizing word was what the rest of Revlore called her people behind their backs and in the shadows. It was a word that embodied years of prejudice and hatred. Saoirse straightened, refusing to show Selussa weakness.

“I do,” she countered. “I want this more than anything. I will fulfill the bargain.”

“Wonderful,” Selussa replied, her voice edged with something like hunger.

The Sea Witch began whispering incantations under her breath. She opened the glass vial containing Saoirse’s blood and let a tiny droplet fall from the jar into the flames. The flames rose up once more, burning brightly and shifting with color as the blood made contact with whatever else was brewing in the heat. Saoirse squinted as the blinding light lit up the dark cavern, shielding her face as the hot flames swelled. Selussa was laughing now, a harsh and delirious sound that made Saoirse’s skin crawl. Abruptly, Selussa grabbed her arm, her long nails digging into Saoirse’s flesh.

Before Saoirse even knew what was happening, the Sea Witch shoved her into the fire pit with unnatural strength. Saoirse screamed in horror as the flames enveloped her, barely registering the searing pain that flooded her senses. But instead of burning, the flames were bitterly cold and stinging, surging through her blood like the frozen claws of winter. Saoirse couldn’t see anything as the fire raged around her and obscured her vision of Selussa and Adda just on the other side. Her body felt like it was pulling apart, her muscles and limbs ablaze with the ice-cold flames. Though she didn’t understand how, she instinctively knew that her powers were being drained from her, ripped away from her body like liquid poured from a cup.

Just when Saoirse nearly fainted from the pain, the churning fire suddenly went out, leaving Saoirse limp in the dying embers. She was shaking, her body trembling as she lay in the charred remnants of the flames. She felt hollow. Empty.

A delicate hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up to see Adda standing over her. Saoirse let the High Elder lift her upright, her legs wobbling as she stood once more. Though her vision went in and out of focus, she could just make out the form of Selussa in the corner of the cave. She was grinning.

“I’ve given you what you want,” Saoirse rasped. “Now you must fulfill your end of the bargain.”

“Your wish is my command, Princess,” Selussa murmured, sweeping forward from the shadows. She bowed before her in a gesture of mock-respect, presenting an onyx flask. With shaking hands, Saoirse took the black stone vial from the Sea Witch.“One drop in your father’s cup should do the trick,” Selussa told her, rising from her bow. “Tell him what you want within the first few minutes of its consumption, and his mind will obey.” At the doubtful expression on her face, Selussa added, “I give you my word.”

“I will kill the prince and win the Revelore Tournament,” Saoirse vowed, clutching the flask to her chest and leaning heavily on Adda. “You win and I win.”

“I look forward to your return,” Selussa purred, her black eyes as dark as the depths of the Fretum. “Do not fail me.”

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