Page 51 of From the Mouths of Sirens

“There is only one thing to do. I don’t have any other choice,” Saoirse replied. She took a shaking breath in, cold resolve settling in her bones. “I have to kill Rook. It’s either him or me.”

Aurelia was silent for a long time, her eyebrows furrowed together in thought. Saoirse chewed on the inside of her mouth, trying to imagine killing Rook. She couldn’t think about it without getting nauseous.

“What if I did it?” Aurelia finally said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Saoirse asked.

“What if I killed Rook? If you don’t think you could go through with it, then let me,” she offered. “I can’t let the witch take your life in his stead. And I don’t want you to be haunted for the rest of your days if your blade is the one that ends his life,” she said softly. “You may try to hide it, but I know you, Saoirse. I’ve seen the way you look at him when you don’t think anyone is watching.”

“No, I-” Saoirse began, her cheeks flushing.

“Don’t deny it. I know there is something between the two of you. It’s not that I believe you couldn’t do it. I know you could find the strength to,” Aurelia assured her. She grasped Saoirse’s shoulders, leaning in to face her. “But I don’t want that decision to follow you around for the rest of your life. Let me do it. You can still fulfill the bargain and avoid killing him yourself.”

“Aurelia, I could never ask that of you. I was the one who vowed to bring the blade back to Selussa. I was the one who promised my life to her. It is not your burden to bear.”

“I know you would do the same for me,” her friend said softly.

Saoirse felt both relief and horror at the prospect. Relief because she wouldn’t be the one to take his life. Horror because her best friend would kill the only man who had ever captured her affections. For that was who he was to her now. She wanted to run from the ugly truth of it, but it sat there like a stone in the middle of a path, unmoving and undeniable. The unnamed emotion that sent her heart racing at the mere thought of him could only be affection.

“I’ll consider your offer,” Saoirse finally whispered. “I’ll tell you my decision in the morning. Give me the night to think it over.” Aurelia nodded, her mouth set in a grim line.

“Tomorrow then.”

* * *

Saoirse and Aurelia returned to the tribute encampment in silence. Saoirse was numb to it all, her heart just as shredded as her burned legs. Tonight, she told herself as they trudged through the forest. Tonight you’ll decide what to do. But she knew that she was just putting off the inevitable. The decision would be no easier later than it would be now. In this world everything had a cost, a price to pay. For the Crown and the throne of Revelore, she had to make sacrifices. She had always known that. But why was it so hard now?

They crossed the threshold of the camp, heading to their final meeting with Tournament Ambassador Vangelis. Saoirse was grateful that their tents were so far away from the other tributes. She didn’t know if she could look at any of them without feeling guilty. A few days ago, the other tributes were nameless faces she could care less about. But now, they were thoughtful and complex individuals who clearly loved their countries. In that regard, they were more similar than Saoirse had initially understood them to be. She hated herself for that weakness. She was a mighty Torqen warrior, hardened into impenetrable stone long ago.

Wasn’t she?

They made for Aurelia’s tent, where they had agreed to meet Vangelis. Aurelia pushed into the tent first, tossing off her cloak in a heap. The Tournament Ambassador was sitting in a crotchety wooden chair in the corner, his spindly fingers meshed together on his lap. To Saoirse’s surprise, Sune was also sitting next to him. The Mer warrior was still bandaged around his abdomen, his face going pale as he forced himself to sit up in the chair.

“What are you doing here?” Aurelia barked. “You should be recovering in the healers’ tent.”

“I’m offering my support in the hour of Elorshin’s fate,” Sune offered through tight lips. “We started as a team, and we shall finish it as one.”

Aurelia said nothing in reply, sitting on the edge of her bed in silent disapproval. There was no use in arguing with him. Saoirse took a seat beside Aurelia, folding her arms across her chest.

“Congratulations on passing the second trial,” Vangelis said somberly. “It is an impressive feat to survive a nest of Avgi spiders. I commend you for your strength.”

For some reason, Saoirse couldn’t bring herself to thank him for his praise. She should’ve felt proud of herself for surviving. Instead, she felt nothing. Deep down, she knew that without Neia and Rook’s help in the caves, she wouldn’t be sitting in this tent at all.

“The third trial will take place at dawn,” Vangelis told them. “It will be the most challenging one yet, I can assure you. You must see it through to the end. You are so close to triumph.”

“Do you have any predictions of what we might face?” Aurelia asked.

“I’ve heard rumors of a beast,” the ambassador answered, leaning forward on his chair. “It is said that the Master of Trials traveled for a time, searching for a creature worthy of the arena. But I should warn you that this could just be empty speculation. The Master of Trials has been known to trick spies in the past, leading prying eyes down a rabbit trail just to throw them off.”

“What kind of beast?” Saoirse asked. She couldn’t imagine facing anything worse than giant bloodthirsty spiders.

“I’m not sure,” Vangelis replied. “My sources say that whatever this creature is-if it is even real at all-could’ve been found in the Northern Wastes.”

Aurelia sighed wearily, leaning back on her bed. “Beast or no, we shall win tomorrow.”

“Do you have any last pieces of advice to give us?” Saoirse demanded impatiently. She was so unbearably tired. All she wanted to do was sleep this nightmare away.

“Remember who your enemies are,” Vangelis offered. “And remember what you are fighting for.”

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