Page 27 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“Lest you forget, Princess,” Rook drawled smugly, “it was you who challenged me to this wager. Don’t be so anxious to get it over with,” he purred. “We’ve agreed to go easy on you. We don’t want you to struggle in the Tournament tomorrow.” His eyes were glittering mischievously, and his condescending tone made her want to punch him as hard as she could.

“What rules must we follow in this duel?” Saoirse asked, ignoring his teasing. He was merely trying to get under her skin, using his charm to unsettle her. It wouldn’t work.

“No drawing blood,” Rook began slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “No using any special abilities. As much as I’d love to use my wings, it would be an unfair advantage,” he added, spreading his pale grey wings out for emphasis. “Flying would guarantee our victory, and we want this to be a fair fight.”

“Thank you for lowering your standards for us Merfolk,” Aurelia hissed sardonically. “You wouldn’t stand a chance against Saoirse if she wielded her powers.”

Saoirse smiled uncomfortably at the mention of her lost abilities. She felt guilty for not telling her companions about such a critical loss. It felt so wrong to hide her bargain with the Witch from Aurelia, who knew her every secret. Her skin prickled as she felt Rook’s gaze on her, his assessing eyes filled with curiosity at the mention of her unseen power.

“Alright, then it will be a simple duel. No spilled blood and no using special abilities.” Saoirse was anxious to change the subject. She pushed her hair out of her face and tied it into a knot at the nape of her neck.

Rook stepped away from the railing, moving into the center of the bridge. Veila and Eros followed suit, standing on either side of him.“The first fighter who surrenders loses,” Rook added. “May the best soldier win.”

Saoirse unsheathed her sword. “I agree to your terms. Let’s begin.”

Aurelia and Sune moved into formation beside her, unsheathing their own blades as they faced the Auran tributes. Saoirse eased into the familiar combat stance that had been drilled into her after years of training. The ways of the Torqen were a faint whisper in her muscles, natural and instinctive.

Rook lifted a dark eyebrow, drawing his own blade in response to her challenge. Save for the roar of the waterfall below, all was silent. Saoirse sensed her opportunity and lunged at Rook with a snarl. He countered her charge, bringing his sword to bear against her own as he blocked the strike. Behind them, the ringing of metal against metal sounded out across the bridge as Sune and Aurelia faced their own opponents. Saoirse tore her blade away from his, spinning as Rook brought his first blow towards her. She ducked to her right as his sword sliced through empty air.

They moved away from their dueling companions as they fought, side stepping down the walkway with each blow. The way they circled each other was akin to dancing, and Saoirse was reminded of their spinning on the dance floor the night before. She much preferred sparring with blades than with words.

Her hands ached from each reverberating blow Rook either blocked or delivered. She grew agitated with each seemingly effortless block he produced, the smug smile never leaving his face. Fury built inside of her like a churning maelstrom as Rook countered each of her attacks easily. Sweat beaded on her brow as she parried each blow. With every swing, they locked eyes. Tension grew between them like a building wave, rising with the biting clang of metal. Breathing heavily, Saoirse kept pushing him forward, dodging his blade all the while. She feigned a strike to his left and swept his legs out from under him with a deft kick. Rook's eyes widened in shock as he toppled over, barely catching himself before hitting the ground. Saoirse didn’t have time to gloat as he straightened again, lunging for her with a growl.

The dull roar of the river filled her ears and all distractions slipped away. The sun was rising now, golden beams of light marbling the bridge and catching on the rising droplets of mist. As they moved into the center of the bridge, the sound of Sune and Aurelia’s own battles behind them dissolved into a distant cry.

She focused on the prince like a predator locked onto its prey. Just as she had noticed the night before, Rook favored his left side. She used this knowledge to attack on his right, forcing him to block her powerful swings with his weak arm. He was sweating with the effort, his thin tunic clinging to his skin and his dark hair damp with perspiration. But even as his breathing grew ragged, he continued to decisivelyparry her every swing. Saoirse herself was growing weary, her sore muscles and aching lungs slowing her down. But she refused to back down, pushing through the pain with each strike and parry. She was determined to see the blade fly from his hand.

Memories of his scathing words returned to her, his cruel taunting twisting in her gut: “If your people have not won it, it is because the Aura are the only ones with enough wit and strength to come out triumphant. We have no need of your kind here, and if I had it my way, we’d never let Mer out of the ocean and onto our shores.”

Fresh energy surged through her at the thought of his insults, her blood pumping as loudly in her ears as the soaring waterfall below. She leaped forward with each new strike, forcing Rook backwards to the railing of the sky bridge. But her burst of energy quickly evaporated, leaving her legs trembling and her chest heaving. Saoirse gripped her sword tighter, squinting through the beads of sweat. Saoirse could barely think as the world became a dizzying blur of odd shapes coming in and out of focus, but she glimpsed her chance and twisted her blade beneath his. With strength she didn’t even know she had, Saoirse shoved his blade out of his hand. The sword went flying, skittering across the sky bridge.

Rook seemed dumbfounded, completely shocked by her prolonged and vicious assault. But the Auran prince did not surrender. Instead of ending their duel, he merely raised his fists in a wordless challenge. Saoirse tossed her own blade to the ground, raising her fists in response.

“Just give up,” she urged. “I’ve bested you.”

“Never,” Rook smiled.

They continued fighting, swinging their knuckles instead of swords. Rook suddenly kicked her legs out from under her, leaping on her the instant she hit the stones. Had she not been burning with anger, she may have blushed as he wrapped his legs around her, pinning her to the ground. His face was mere inches from hers, and their ragged breaths mingled together as they struggled on the bridge.

Saoirse managed to roll out from under him and force herself up from the ground. She pressed her back against the railing, bracing herself as Rook lunged at her again. Saoirse dodged his blow and rolled to the side. As he stumbled forward, a sudden gust of wind ripped across the bridge, catching his wings and sending him crashing head-first into the railing. A sickening crack sounded as Rook hit his head against the stone. His tall frame sent his momentum over the railing, his eyes rolling back in his head as he plummeteddown towards the waters below.

“Rook!” she screamed over the wind, watching helplessly as he dropped like a stone into the river.

Without thinking, Saoirse leaped off the side of the bridge and dove after him. She was only second behind him, but he had already hit the surface of the rushing river. She dove into the biting cold waters, icy chill seeping into her limbs. Under the water, her body took to the current easily. Her eyes readjusted to the darkness, and she gasped as she spotted Rook’s paralyzed form being carried towards the edge of the waterfall. She grabbed him, hauling one of his arms over her shoulder. His head lolled to the side, still unconscious. She kicked against the water, trying desperately to make it to the nearby embankment. She cursed the boots that were still laced up her calves, confining her webbed toes and preventing her from catching the water. The waterfall was too powerful, too fast. Above, she could see Veila and Eros diving for them, terrified looks on their faces. Saoirse opened her palms and willed the water to halt. But the churning current kept pushing them farther, ignoring her summons.

“Titans!” Saoirse cursed, regretting all that she had relinquished to the Sea Witch. She clung to Rook and tried to keep his head above the water as they hurtled toward the edge. Eros and Veila were now only a few paces away, their wingbeats sending ripples across the water.

But it was too late.

Saoirse felt the water push them over the side of the cliff, their bodies going weightless as they pitched over the side. Saoirse held onto Rook as tightly as she could, wrapping herself around his body as they fell through air and water. She knew that the impact below would be the worst part, and if she couldn’t absorb most of the blow, Rook’s bones would be crushed under the pounding waves. She covered Rook’s body with her own, praying that she could protect him once they hit the bottom.

The waterfall pushed them into the river below, water churning over their heads. They were tossed through the foaming waters like leaves on the wind, helpless as they were pounded over and over again by the incessant waves. Saoirse clung to Rook, fighting to hold on. She kicked against the river, pulling him up to the surface. She could barely see through the waterfall, bubbles and foam rolling over them in droves.

At some point, they broke the surface of the water. Saoirse gasped, clutching Rook’s shoulders as the water lapped at him and threatened to pull him under again. His wings were heavy, catching in the current and holding them back. Saoirse continued to push, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she struggled against the waves. She carried him to the embankment at the river’s edge, using her last dregs of energy to kick them both to shore. By some miracle, she managed to reach the embankment. She collapsed in the shallow water, her back pressed against the soft sand.

She turned to Rook, who was laying beside her with his eyes still closed. Pressing her lips to his mouth, she pushed air into his lungs over and over again, stopping every few moments to push on his chest. If she had access to her power, she could’ve called the water out of his lungs and set his heart beating again. But her panic was replaced by relief as Rook choked up water, his chest slowly beginning to rise and fall. She scanned him for any injuries, touching his ribs to feel for anything broken. She swept back his dark hair from his face, wincing when she saw the dark bruise that was forming on his forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. The water lapped at them softly, tiny ripples rushing over the sand.

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