Page 36 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“If you’re going to stop me,” she challenged, “then do it.” The figure lifted its blade in wordless response, its eyeless face brooding behind a dark veil and drawn hood.

“So be it,” Saoirse hissed, bringing up her sword and charging for the figure. She was done letting the labyrinth have its way with her. It was time she had her way with the damnable stone walls. She’d give the spectators a real show.

She ran toward the figure, her blade in one hand and the spear in the other. Her eyes widened as the figure slowly came into focus. It was neither man nor beast, simply a humanoid body. The ancient vines that curled around the walls had reached out tangles of leaves to form a person, wrapping around each other in tight knots. The vines wrapped together to form limbs, tendrils of leaves and roots woven into a body that clutched a sword made of greenery. The living vines sent out probing coils of leaves, creeping through the damp sand like snakes. One of the vines brushed against her boot, curling around her ankle in a soft caress. She yanked her foot away, and the vine recoiled.

She stepped closer to the plant-warrior, daring the labyrinth to face her. In a rush, the wild vines lunged at her, shooting virile roots at her sword. Saoirse ripped her blade away, the metal hissing as it broke free from the greedy hold. She spun, her feet dancing in the sand. Coils of leaves shot at her from all angles, spiraling around her legs. She swiped at them, cutting through the mess of tangled roots with a snarl. The warrior of vines continued to advance, parrying her blows perfectly. She could barely focus on her attacker as vines exploded from the walls, sending fingers of green to wrap around her arms and torso.

“Hel’s teeth,” she gasped as her arm was held fast, spiraling vines picking her up and crushing her to the wall. She held onto the spear with all her strength, but the roots slowly wrapped around her hand and began to loosen her grip. With her free arm, she lashed out her sword, still blocking the plant-warrior’s blows as she was pinned to the wall. Heart pounding and forehead drenched in sweat and rain, Saoirse fought, tearing at the relentless onslaught of vines. Vines began wrapping around her feet and slithering up her thighs, coiling around her waist and chest. Panic bloomed within as breathing became difficult, the warrior of vines still thrusting its sword at her even as she was tied down.

The javelin fell to the sand, her fingers unable to keep it secure as leafy tendrils curled around her hands and tightened. She gasped, fighting to keep breathing as her vision went in and out of focus. Water poured down from the sky, blinding her as she struggled for control.

This is not how you’ll die. You must bring glory to Elorshin.

A fresh surge of energy raced through her blood like a rush of sea foam, and she ripped through the roots that had begun to weave around her right arm. Her sword hand now free, she abandoned any effort to block the plant-warrior’s blows. Instead, she focused on slashing the leaves that held her in place, sprays of vibrant green liquid exploding as her blade sliced through them. She hacked at the roots and vines, roaring in triumph as they withered away and shrunk into the shadows of the wall.

Breathing heavily, she stood face to face with the warrior, curling her lip in wordless challenge. The faceless figure lunged at her, thrusting its green sword at her heart. She ducked, sending her blade cleaving through its legs. The vines that tangled around each other severed and hissed in pain, snaking away as they cut in half. The body dissolved, roots and leaves whispering back into place as if nothing had just happened.

Dripping with green sap and soaked to the bone, Saoirse stood at the center of the path, her chest heaving. She picked up the fallen spear and slid her sword back into its scabbard, facing the end of the labyrinth wearily. A flash of lightning streaked across the dark sky, casting the labyrinth in strange shadows. She strode down the path, wet sand clinging to her boots. She nearly wept to see the golden hoop that hung at the edge of the maze. Relief flooded her senses as she crossed the threshold of the labyrinth, the familiar hum washing over her skin as she left the invisible barrier surrounding it. As she emerged from the quiet of the maze, the roar of the crowd deafened her.

Below the gold circle, Aurelia hurled her spear upward with a grunt. The javelin found its mark, piercing the wall at the center of the hoop. Aurelia turned back around victoriously, grinning when she spied Saoirse emerging from the maze. She sprinted toward her, meeting her halfway.

“You made it,” Aurelia breathed, her turquoise eyes going soft with relief. A long, bloody gash ran across her forehead, lacing down to her cheek. Her blonde curls were plastered to her head, hanging in rain-dampened tendrils around her face. The menacing wound on her face only enhanced her fierce demeanor. Another clap of thunder shuddered across the sky and temporarily silenced the roaring arena of onlookers.

Saoirse broke from Aurelia’s embrace, gripping the javelin hard. She strode toward the hoop, hoisting her javelin over her shoulder with a grimace. She charged at the circle of gold, thrusting the spear up as hard as she could. It flew high and true, the metal tip embedding into the stone wall next to Aurelia’s. The stretch of Mer spectators erupted into praise, waving flags of blue and turquoise wildly.

Saoirse fell to her knees, tiredness replacing adrenaline with dizzying speed. Deep fatigue settled in her bones, but she willed herself to stand once more. Coming to stand beside Aurelia, she stared at the endless sweep of the labyrinth.

“You didn’t see Sune, did you?” Aurelia asked, her voice rising to overcome the torrential downpour. She crossed her arms and anxiously chewed on her lower lip.

“No,” Saoirse replied, thinking back to the maze. Memories of the horrified expression on Diru’s face suddenly overwhelmed her. “I did see one of the Terradrin warriors though,” she said softly. “One of the males, Diru Balran.” Aurelia turned to her, arching an eyebrow.

“Did he try to kill you?” she asked. “Or did you try to kill him?”

“No,” Saoirse answered. “Quite the opposite in fact. I saved him from quicksand.”

“What?” Aurelia asked in disbelief. Suspicion etched on her features. “Why would you do such a thing?”

It was a question Saoirse had been asking herself the entire time. She hadn’t understood the decision, not when everything in her desired to win the Crown and see her enemies fall. And yet, she had instinctively reached for the man, risking her own life in the process.

Before she could answer, Aurelia yelled, “Sune!”

Sune stumbled out of the labyrinth. Blood leaked from his side, spilling down his legs and pooling in the sand. His dark hair was damp with blood and rain. Aurelia nearly dove towards him as Saoirse numbly followed behind. He began to fall, his trembling legs giving out. They caught him just in time, absorbing his weight as he doubled over in pain.

“What happened?” Saoirse breathed, eyes scanning his gaunt face.

“Later,” Sune rasped. Saoirse looked down, realizing that his spear was also darkened with blood. The two of them lifted him on their shoulders as he nearly collapsed at the feet of the golden hoop.

“Just a little closer, Sune,” Aurelia urged him. With every step towards the ring, Saoirse felt sick.

Sune threw the javelin into the air, groaning with pain as the motion ripped open his injury even further. The spear struck the wall, right at the center of the hoop. Sune collapsed, spilling to the sand as Aurelia and Saoirse managed to slowly cushion his fall.

“Steady now,” Aurelia whispered as she tore a strip of cloth from her cloak and dabbed it along his forehead. “Keep your eyes open.” Blood stained Aurelia’s fingers as she covered his wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Saoirse nearly balked at the uncharacteristic sign of affection, but she was too weak to give any meaningful reaction.

“We made it through. We survived the first trial,” she assured him, laying his head in her lap. Sune’s eyes rolled back in his head, his body going limp in Aurelia’s arms.

Saoirse stood, squinting into the crowds above. “Can someone help him?” she cried out frantically, her voice barely audible through the pounding rain. “Don’t just sit there and watch him die,” she yelled, hurling her words up to the towers that looked down on them in snobbish contempt. “We passed this bloody trial like you wanted, he needs help!” But her words were lost in the roar of thunder overhead.

“We won’t receive aid until the trial is over,” Aurelia muttered. “We have to wait.”

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