Page 48 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“I came to find you,” he replied, his eyes assessing her for injuries. His gaze stopped at her feet, where the acid burns had torn through her boots and trouser legs. “Saoirse-” he began.

“I’m fine,” she said, interrupting him. She looked around frantically, eyeing the countless tunnels that opened into the cave. “They’re coming for me. You can hear them everywhere.”

“I know the way out.” He began to stride for a nearby tunnel, but Saoirse remained rooted to the ground.

Do it now, a voice told her in her head. They were alone down here, and it would be so easy to kill him. His companions were gone, and there was no one to stop her. Saoirse’s fingers twitched, going to the scabbard of her blade. Her heart was thundering more loudly than it had when facing the bloodthirsty spider in the egg nest. Kill him and fulfill your bargain. She suddenly couldn’t breathe, the weight of her task feeling utterly impossible.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked suspiciously. “You should just let me die. Save yourself.”

“Do you trust me?” He asked instead, avoiding her question. The sound of skittering spiders grew louder, like the swell of a great wave about to collapse and flood the chamber. “Do you trust me Saoirse?” he asked again, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“No,” Saoirse replied honestly. Do it now, she told herself. But she was paralyzed to the spot. She stared at the dagger on his hip, everything in her screaming for her to take it from him and fulfill her oath. She couldn’t explain why the thought of killing him made her nauseous, when only days ago she was perfectly prepared to do it. Before she could gather the courage to act, a wave of spiders launched out of the darkness, crawling along the ceiling and emerging from holes in the ground.

Without another thought, she grabbed his hand and bolted. They ran together, stumbling over mounds of stone and splashing through puddles of mineral water. Saoirse dared to look over her shoulder as they ran, watching as a swarm of shadows grew behind them like a storm. Hundreds of spiders poured from above and below, clambering over one another and rushing forward in a thunderous stampede. Saoirse whipped her head back around and tightened her hold on Rook’s hand like a lifeline. They turned a corner in the tunnel, racing faster as the flood of spiders inched closer, their clicking fangs hot on their heels.

Up ahead, dim light pooled at the end of the passageway. Four ancient ladders sprouted from the floor and climbed up through the ceiling, disappearing into a tunnel that led up to the surface. Identifying banners hung beside each ladder, exactly as the Master of Trials had described. Saoirse immediately recognized the turquoise and silver flag on the far right, hanging in the soft light like a beacon of hope. She broke away from Rook, sprinting towards it. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rook hurrying to Aurandel’s ladder at the far left end. She threw herself onto the rusted bars, biting back a scream as she hooked her acid-burned feet onto a rung. The spiders poured out of the tunnel, scampering to the ladders as she and Rook began to climb.

Saoirse didn’t dare stop moving, pulling herself up as fast as she could. She felt spider legs brushing against the ladder below, trying to gain footholds. The repulsive sounds of their clicking fangs filled her ears, their ugly cries chasing her up the ladder. She felt a tug on her tribute’s cloak, and she quickly shrugged it off her shoulders, letting it drop into the jaws of the spiders below.

Rung after rung, she ascended through the endless tunnel without ceasing. Even as the sound of the spiders vanished into the earth and the light from the surface grew brighter, she never stopped climbing. Her feet were numb with pain, her fingers rubbed raw as she grabbed rung after rung. As she climbed, she prayed that Rook was pulling himself up the Auran ladder, that his body hadn’t been torn limb from limb by the bloodthirsty spiders below.

Soon, the roar of the crowd began to reverberate through the small tunnel, rattling the ladder as thousands of onlookers stomped overhead. But the cries of the spectators brought her no relief. The last thing she wanted to see were the faces of Revelorians shrieking with excitement, completely ignorant of the horrors below the arena. Sunlight flooded her vision and the searing light from the world above momentarily blinded her. Muscles burning and her feet in shreds, Saoirse crested the ladder and collapsed onto the sand floor of the arena. She went limp with exhaustion, wincing at the painful roar of the crowd that echoed through the amphitheatre. Breathing heavily, she stared up at the clear blue sky, eyes adjusting to the brightness of the surface.

Someone gasped a few paces away from her, and she turned her head to see Rook burst from the hole. He fell to the sand, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He looked at her, his blue eyes meeting her gaze. Suddenly, the world around them seemed to blur, the clamour of onlookers melting away into a dull ring. She returned his stare, unable to look away from him. He had risked everything to turn back and help her. He could’ve left her in the darkness, could’ve let her be surrounded by spiders and consumed whole. No one would’ve looked down on him for it. In fact, that sort of behavior was expected in the Tournament. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had abandoned her without so much as a second glance. But he had come back for her, fully aware that in doing so he jeopardized his own chances of winning the Tournament. And she had failed to kill him. She had her opportunity down in the caves, and she had been too cowardly to go through with it. But even as she cursed herself for her weakness, a part of her felt relief. He was still alive.

“Saoirse,” Aurelia cried, falling to her knees beside her. She tucked her hand under Saoirse’s back, helping her sit up. “You’re alive. I thought I’d never see you again.”

Aurelia leaned forward, crushing Saoirse against her chest. She kissed her forehead, tears glimmering in the corners of her eyes. “You reckless, reckless fool,” she continued. “You should’ve let that bloody spider crush me. You almost died.”

“But I didn’t,” Saoirse replied, clinging to Aurelia. “Did you get the egg to safety?” The colors and sounds of the arena suddenly felt so overwhelming, ringing through her head like a hammer on her skull.

“Yes,” Aurelia replied. “I did.” She paused, looking around at the wall of people cheering above them. “We made it to the third trial.” But there was no mirth in Auerlia’s eyes. Her eyes were haunted, whispering of monstrosities that no one besides a tribute could understand. How the light in Aurelia’s eyes had dimmed over the course of a few days. There was no glory in the arena, only death and terror.

“Titans,” Aurelia breathed, finally seeing Saoirse’s burned flesh. Her eyes widened in horror as her eyes traveled down her legs and settled on her webbed toes. “Saoirse,” she said, her voice breaking. “Saoirse, your feet.”

Saoirse hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of her acid-burned legs down in the darkness of the caves, and upon seeing them in the daylight, she wished she never had. They were much worse than she could’ve ever imagined, tinged a sickly green color that mirrored the hue of the spider acid. Sure enough, the webbing between her toes looked like the burned edges of parchment thrown into a fire.

Saoirse turned toward the other ladders that emerged from underground. The two remaining Tellusun tributes were huddled together, the glowing spider egg between them. Aside from the shredded cloaks that hung limply at their shoulders, they appeared unscathed.

At the Terradrin ladder, only Neia Landum was leaning over the edge of the tunnel, squinting into the darkness below. Her face was twisted in anguish, her hands digging into the sand.

“Her two companions haven’t surfaced yet,” Aurelia whispered under her breath, giving Neia a sympathetic glance.

The crowd suddenly erupted as one of Neia’s fellow tributes finally pulled himself from the ladder with a moan. His white hair was stained crimson, hanging in clumps along his back. He collapsed in the sand, his clothing soaked in blood from garish wounds. Neia helped pull him up the rest of the way, horror and relief mingling in her eyes. Her lips were moving, but her words were obscured by the roar of the crowds. The warrior, Adresin, gave a pained shake of his head.

Neia’s face fell at the news, her welling with tears.

“Gone,” Aurelia surmised. “The third tribute is gone.”

Sympathy washed through Saoirse like a wave lapping up the beach. Diru, the man she had saved from the quicksand in the labyrinth, was gone. How fleeting his life had been. Saoirse was glad she had given him one more day to live. She leaned back in the sand, feeling oddly defeated. She should be glad that she had one less competitor to deal with. But her heart ached for the Terradrin tributes. It ached for Neia, who saved her in the caves when she could’ve been looking for her lost friend and potentially saving him instead.

“Congratulations, tributes,” Korina’s booming voice interrupted, resounding through the air like the clap of thunder. “You have survived the second trial. I am pleased to announce that every nation shall be moving forward to the third and final trial, beginning in a day's time,” she said, her voice sounding anything but pleased.

“Healers shall arrive for you, should you require treatment. Rest while you can, tributes,” she said from somewhere high above. “The final trial shall determine the winner of the Crown of Revelore.”

With that, the familiar peel of trumpets and ceremonial songs filled the air with a jarring sweetness that left a bad taste in her mouth. Saoirse glanced to where Rook sprawled in the sand, where he was now surrounded by Eros, Veila, and Ambassador Cresta. In the flurry of activity and the rush of healers, his blue eyes found hers.

She tore her eyes away from him, unable to bear his penetrating gaze. She wanted to despise him and burn with hatred for him. But instead, her heart pounded when he was near, fluttering with an unknown emotion. Time warped and slowed down as she was loaded onto a stretcher, her eyes going in and out of focus as her body finally allowed itself to feel the pain. She stared up at the clouds, her head swimming with thoughts of Rook and her unfulfilled bargain and of the trial to come.

---