Page 30 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“Over there,” Sune noted, nodding at a group of tributes who stood before the forge. Saoirse recognized the white hair of the Terradrin tributes instantly. In the light of the undying flames, their pale skin and colorless eyes looked translucent.

Saoirse reluctantly followed Sune and Aurelia as they strode toward the other tributes, her eyes catching on the walls of endless weapons. Shelves of glittering knives and elegant swords shone in the light. Chains, spikes, and gleaming shields. It seemed that any weapon a soldier could ever dream of was housed within the armory. The warrior’s heart in her chest began to stir with hunger. She could spend hours here.

They halted behind the protective gates of the forge. In front of them, the Terradrin tributes collected their weapons from the Aerial blacksmiths. Each tribute was allowed a knife and a simple longsword in the Tournament. Those who preferred archery rather than a sword were granted a rudimentary bow and arrows. The tributes' weapons were forged in unison, to prevent any direct advantage of one tribute over another. Most importantly, the blacksmiths at the armory ensured that there were no enchantments or charms of deception placed upon the weapons. In the past, tributes had cursed their blades so that they always found their marks, or they had enchanted their arrows to be invisible so that they could surprise their enemies.

Saoirse watched as the ground-dwellers sheathed their weapons. The Terradrin tributes turned from the forge, their milky eyes luminous in the soft glow. Saoirse immediately recognized Captain Neia Landum of the Under Kingdom.

Neia cocked her head curiously as she caught sight of Saoirse staring at her. “Mer princess,” she acknowledged with a bow. Neia was lithe and willowy, her unbound white hair appearing silver in the light of the forge. Saoirse could easily imagine the warrior climbing through the dark tunnels and hidden caverns of the Under Kingdom, leading a battalion to war beneath the earth.

“Captain Landum,” Saoirse replied with a nod. She scanned the male tributes beside Neia, watching as they instinctively placed hands on the swords at their hips. Clearly they expected a fight, if their wary expressions were any indication.

“You are brave to compete in the Tournament, Your Highness,” Neia observed in a tone that was neither mocking nor impressed.

“I serve my country the same as any other warrior,” Saoirse replied. “To be selected as a tribute is an honor.”

Neia nodded, her long white eyelashes casting shadows on her colorless cheeks. “I dare say it took more bravery to dance with the Auran prince last night than to enter the Tournament.” There was a challenge in her voice, though Saoirse couldn’t say why.

Her skin prickled under Neia’s gaze. Of course she knew that people had been watching. But on the dance floor across from Rook, the last thing on her mind had been the eyes upon them. She suddenly realized how foolish it had been to accept that dance. It was even more foolish that she had displayed such a lack of self control when she had stormed off in a rage. Her reckless behavior had sent a message to the watchful crowd and invited unwanted speculation. She should’ve been more careful.

“I would wager an enormous sum of money to see that look of disdain on his face again,” Neia chuckled. “What did you say to him to draw out such anger?”

“Whatever words Princess Saoirse shared with the Auran Prince is none of your concern,” Aurelia hissed between her teeth. Neia narrowed her eyes at Aurelia and Sune, as if she had forgotten they were standing there.

“You compete with noble companions, Princess,” the Terradrin captain noted cooly, leveling her gaze at them. “How do your Torqen soldiers fare? Even in the Under Kingdom, we have heard of your impressive leadership. How admirable it is that you are both so young and open to untested methods of training.”

Aurelia didn’t so much as flinch at the backhanded compliment. “Our battalions are well,” she answered briskly. “We must always be open to new methods of training. The Torqen always strive for improvement.”

“We just finished our season on the Isles of Mythos,” Sune added. “Our army is taking to our new untested methods well.”

“So I’ve heard,” Neia replied, continuing to assess them with a disconcerting gaze. Her eyes were cold and calculating.

It was no secret that every nation of Revelore kept watchful eyes on the movements of their enemies, even if fragile peace treaties existed between them. Secrets and spies were abundant in Revelore, that much was certain. The thin puppeteer strings that held the nations together were in the hands of Arundel, strings that could snap at any moment if they weren’t careful. It was wise for the Terradrin Captain to keep tabs on the Torqen.

“How do your armies fare in the Under Kingdom?” Sune asked dutifully, the very picture of a cordial captain. “I’ve heard there have been challenges with the Wyrm infestation.”

Saoirse shuddered at the mention of the subterranean creatures that buried into the earth like parasites. She had heard the reports of the Terradrin army battling the giant worm-like creatures in recent months, losing entire units to their teeth-filled jaws.

Something like a shadow passed over Neia’s pale face, the corners of her mouth tugging to a frown that was quickly concealed. “Our forces are well,” she answered briskly. “The infestation is nothing our people haven’t faced before. We know the tunnels just as well as the Wyrms do, and we know how to keep them at bay.”

“And how goes the Auran occupation?” Aurelia asked. “I imagine is must be difficult to have Aerials surveying your every movement?”Saoirse winced at the insensitive question.

Neia gave Aurelia a long, weighted look. She pursed her lips, folding her hands across her chest. Saoirse wondered if there was more tension in the Under Kingdom than she knew of. After Terradrin revolutionaries had killed Aurandel’s leaders eight years ago, the presence of the Aerials was constant. Though Neia’s soldiers fought for Terradrin in principle, they were under the thumb of Aurandel in every way. Perhaps Neia’s selection as a tribute held more weight than Saoirse could see on the surface.

“The occupation fares well,” Neia finally said, choosing her words carefully. It was one thing to tease Saoirse about dancing with Rook, but it was an entirely different matter to speak treasonously of Aurandel.

“I wish you well in the Tournament, tomorrow,” Saoirse decidedly said, sensing Neia’s discomfort. She bowed to the Terradrin captain and her companions, forcing a courteous smile. A look of relief seemed to briefly flicker across Neil’s eyes before unreadable neutrality returned.

“May glory be given,” the white-haired woman offered. The Terradrin warriors brushed past, leaving the three of them before the blazing forge alone.

“I can’t tell if I like her or not,” Aurelia smirked.

“We shouldn’t like anyone,” Sune retorted, striding toward the awaiting Aerial blacksmiths. “Not when any one of those tributes might slit your throat in the arena tomorrow morning.”

Saoirse stepped up to the forge, watching as the blacksmiths gathered their assigned weapons. She openly stared at the wings that sprouted from their backs. She still wasn’t used to the sight of the winged people standing before her in the flesh. The blacksmiths wore leather aprons that extended past their abdomens and hung to their knees, protecting them from the ice cold flames that could burn flesh just as harshly as any other fire.

“We are here to collect our weapons for the Tournament.”

The tall Auran male nodded, reaching for their custom-made swords and daggers. He laid the weapons out on the sandstone counter between them.

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