Page 64 of From the Mouths of Sirens

But just as the courts of Revelore had many secrets, so too would he. He warned Saoirse of Hasana’s ulterior motives, but she’d be a fool not to consider that he might harbor his own. He would find a way to make this right. No matter how many people he would have to deceive.

“Alright,” he said in a flinty tone. “Let us gather a war counsel. We will go to battle.”

31

SAOIRSE

Saoirse hurried from Rook’s rooms, the cold look in his eyes chasing her out like the frigid whisper of winter. She could still feel his hostile gaze on her back. Her clipped footsteps echoed through the terracotta halls, echoing the pounding of her frantic heart.

When they had flown to the city of Bezhad in the Shujaa Desert, Saoirse held onto the tattered shreds of hope that he might be able to forgive her. They had traveled across the continent for several days, soaring high above the jungled Isles of Mythos in a long train of winged horses and carriages. If they had been on foot, they would’ve been wading through treacherous, python-filled swamps and tangles of roots for weeks. They arrived in the Tellusun capital in a matter of days. Saoirse had expected to see the city in ruins and the streets ransacked after the uprising. Instead, Bezhad was celebrating, its people singing songs of Tellusun and praising Princess Hasana for leading them to freedom. The Aerial soldiers who had occupied the city for the last eight years had vanished, seemingly called away by their Queen in Aurandel.

While Hasana periodically tended to Rook and kept him clinging to life, Saoirse had tried to prepare herself for the worst. But his disdain for her once his life had been restored hurt more than his death ever could. Gone was the tentative familiarity that had bloomed between them over the Tournament, easing out of their hearts like the new buds of spring. Whatever had begun to grow was now silenced, shriveled up and shredded like a trampled garden. The hardest part of it all was that she understood his change of heart perfectly. She had vowed to kill him, and even if she never planned on following through with the bargain, the truth of it had now wedged itself between them.

It is for the best, she told herself as she slipped around the corners of the foreign palace. There was no point in cultivating their feelings or engaging in stolen dalliances now. Revelore was on the brink of war, and it was better not to have complicated entanglements to deal with. Even so, it stung to see his eyes shift from admiration to hatred and mistrust.

Saoirse stopped and leaned against a stone wall. She closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Today marked two weeks since she had first stepped foot on the surface. Her lungs were sore and ragged, and her skin never seemed to get enough moisture. In the dry heat of Shujaa Desert, she had never longed for the Maeral Sea more. Tears suddenly pricked at her eyes at the thought of home. Kellam Keep was likely destroyed now, if the reports of the Tellusun scouts were to be trusted.

She slid down the wall, her back pressed against the hardened clay. She collapsed, and tears burned down her cheeks. Although it had been days since Selussa had disappeared from the Stone Circle on the back of her nightmarish hydra, she was still in a state of horrified disbelief. Memories of home crashed against her like the vicious waves of a hurricane, haunting her every step. She didn’t know what had become of her people or what Selussa had done to her father. She almost didn’t want to know. Her fingernails dug into her palms, scoring them with cresents.

“Saoirse,” a soft voice called. Hasana stood in the hall, bathed in the warm light of the afternoon. The golden glow that crowned the princess reminded Saoirse of the healing power that had pried her out of the Sea Witch’s stupor and restored Rook back to life.

It had been a shock at first, to learn of Hasana’s incredible power. Saoirse had known that descendants of the Royal Yerimya line possessed the ability of Healing in the ancient past, but it had been a complete surprise to learn that the heir to the Tellusun throne was a Healer. Courtier spies should’ve reported her abilities to the other nations of Revelore, but somehow Hasana’s powers had gone unreported and unknown. Saoirse had thought she knew all there was to know about the monarchs of Revelore. She had studied every political movement and every distant relative of the major Revelorian ancestries. The knowledge that such secrets still remained terrified her. How many other nations hid secret powers and weapons to be used against them when they least expected it?

“Come with me,” Hasana demanded, offering her a hand. Saoirse took the princess’s outstretched hand, pushing up from the ivory tiled floor. She wiped the tears from her face and followed Hasana through the sunlit halls, her eyes catching on the scenery outside. Open windows dazzled her with stunning views of the Clay City, composed of twisting streets and buildings of various shades of reds, oranges, and golds. Towering palm trees fanned across the terrain, lush and green against the clay houses. Sloping beyond the sprawling city, ripples of sand dunes rose and fell like the shifting tides of the sea. For as far as the eye could see, they were entombed in endless waves of sand.

“How did Prince Rook take everything?” Hasana asked over her shoulder. Her loose desert robes billowed as they turned a corner, stark white against the terracotta halls.

“As best as anyone could have in his situation,” Saoirse answered honestly. “I believe he will join your cause, if that is what you’re asking.”

Hasana nodded. “Good. His presence on our side will be valuable. Perhaps he can even negotiate with his sister for us.”

Does he have a choice? Saoirse thought to herself. She had no doubt that the cunning princess would hold Rook as a prisoner if he didn’t agree to join the resistance. Raven was no doubt already scheming ways to rescue him, and he was too valuable a bargaining peace to be allowed to leave. She and Hasana weren’t exactly friends, but they were allies. Even so, Saoirse knew that the Tellusun princess would use her to advance the cause whether she went willingly or not. It had been a deliberate choice to take her with the rebels, that much she was certain of. It would’ve been much simpler to leave Saoirse, Sune, and Aurelia behind to die. Hasana needed them.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t inform you of the rebellion’s intentions sooner,” the Tellusun princess offered as they rounded a corner. “But I couldn’t risk the mission. And I didn’t trust you yet. But now you are here. You are one of us now.”

They abruptly stopped before a huge stone door. Interlocking cogs and wheels covered the entire surface, forming an intricate lock at its center. A burnished metal locking mechanism glinted in the light, shaped into the blazing sun of House Yerimya. Hasana reached out a hand to the metal insignia, glowing threads of light racing to her palms. Saoirse tried not to balk as light radiated from Hasana’s hand and seeped into the lock like molten gold spilling from her fingers. The bronze cogs began to shift at her touch, spinning against each other and prying the door apart. The door opened slowly, swinging with a gentle hiss of metal against stone.

The darkened room was shadowed, only illuminated by burning sconces of eternal flame that flickered along the walls. The light from the hallway was blotted out as the door locked into place behind them, sealing them within. Saoirse grew wary, her fingers instinctively resting on the sword at her hip as the world outside vanished. Though she knew Hasana wouldn’t harm her, that didn’t mean she could be trusted yet.

The room gradually brightened as Hasana’s glowing palms flooded the shadows with golden light. Their footsteps echoed through the windowless room and the swish of their desert clothing whispered across the clay floor. Saoirse kept her eyes on the darkened corners, still on edge. The walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that housed hundreds of ancient texts and aged scrolls of parchment. Various shining artifacts sat amongst the books, including a large telescope with several adjustable lenses. Her eyes roved over rolled maps of Revelore, cracked pieces of terracotta pottery, and a collection of ancient weapons. Glittering jewels sat displayed in crystal-encrusted cases, likely centuries old.

“No one outside of House Yerimya has ever beheld the Huntress’s Relic,” Hasana whispered. Shadows were cast on the sharp contours of her face, her eyes glowing with the same molten gold that shone in her hands. “Until the final day of the Tournament, I didn’t understand the significance of it,” the princess went on, leading them through the vault. “I thought the Huntress’s Relic was simply a family heirloom, an echo of the Great Peace thousands of years ago. But it all makes sense now. The Four Kinsmen left behind the Relics of Old on purpose. Each kingdom of Revelore was given a piece of living history.”

Hasana stopped before a glass case that was wrapped in shining gold chains. Saoirse looked over Hasana’s shoulder, gasping at the object before her. Within the display, an arrow glinted in the torchlight. The arrow was as solid as a gemstone, made entirely from vibrant red ruby.

“This is the arrow of Vasia, Great Huntress of Tellusun. It is said that the arrow turned to solid diamond when she pierced a star and shot it from the sky,” Hasana recalled wistfully. “But it was actually cut from ruby in the great forges of Behzad. This arrow was created so that Vasia could defeat the Titan of the Desert, Nasoor the Cunning.”

“It is real,” Saoirse breathed in disbelief.

“In truth, until I saw Selussa with my own eyes, I didn’t believe in the divine nature of this arrow,” Hasana confessed. “I was told the folklore, just as you were. But it never crossed my mind that such mythology was real history.” She looked over her shoulder at Saoirse, her dark braid slipping down her back. “Selussa will come for this. We must protect it from her at all costs. I may not understand what she needs the Relics for, but I do know that if she collects them all, Revelore is doomed.”

“We must send word to Terradrin that Selussa will come for their Relic,” Saoirse suddenly realized. “King Grivur must secure it as soon as possible.” Hasana lowered her gaze, a frown etched on her face. “What? What’s wrong?” Saoirse asked.

“My informants tell me that Grivur has chosen to ally himself with Aurandel,” Hasana answered with a grimace. “Though Neia Landum has joined our cause and recruited several thousand Terradrin soldiers, the remaining army of the Under Kingdom is still loyal to Grivur. They will fight with Aurandel.”

Saoirse’s heart fell. With the might of Terradrin and Aurandel against them, the odds of triumph were growing slimmer by the minute.

“I’m guessing that the Under Kingdom is sealed up now? And Grivur will never listen to any messages of warning we might send him. Terradrin is vulnerable to Selussa’s attack,” Saoirse sighed.

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