Page 74 of From the Myths of Kings

Their fingers briefly touched, but she couldn’t get a solid grasp. Saoirse dropped as the crevice ripped open even further, slicing through the stone floor like a knife slashed through a sail. A new tunnel gouged deep into the earth, shooting straight down at an almost vertical angle. Neia’s face grew smaller and smaller until her shock of white hair was completely consumed by shadow and there was nothing but an endless spiral of darkness above her.

Saoirse slid down the cleft of rock, clothing tearing and skin chafing against the shaft. She couldn’t see anything as she tumbled through the earth. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t grasp for air. Her stomach plummeted with her. She tried to stop herself, bracing against the sides of the vertical shaft and pushing with all her strength, but gravity took hold and dragged her deeper into the abyss. She felt her fingernails break as she fought for a hold.

The tunnel abruptly deposited her into a damp, flooded chamber. She fell from the ceiling and splashed into a pool of tepid water. She sank into its silty depths, awareness and shock splintering along her spine as the water enveloped her. Her titansblood-addled lungs were startled by the sudden loss of air, and she choked on the cloudy water for several seconds.

Pale shapes flitted in and out of view, trails of bubbles drifting in their wake. At the back of her mind, she vaguely recalled Neia’s distant warning that Wyrms hunted for cavefish. When Wyrms detect the vibrations of cavefish in flooded quarries, they burst through the walls and swallow several fish at a time. Instinct kicked in and she began to swim toward the surface, a frenzied desperation to crawl out of the pool before a hungry Wyrm came for its next meal overcoming every sensation. The white cavefish darted around her, blind and unseeing.

There was a dim light shining above the warped veil of the pool and Saoirse kicked toward it. Her eyes burned through the silt and her heart pounded in her throat. She crashed through the surface of the water and blinked in the faint light.

She looked up at the ceiling. The narrow fissure she’d fallen through loomed at least ten feet above her. It was impossible for her to climb back up and rejoin Neia. She swam over to a soft embankment, her feet catching along the silty floor. She pulled herself out of the pool and slumped against the cave floor, staring up at the dark hole in the ceiling with watery eyes. Panic threatened to pull her under as she struggled to regain her senses. She was now separated from all her companions, and she had no idea how far she’d fallen into the earth. She had no sense of where she was in the labyrinth of cave systems.

Calm down, Saoirse told herself. Just focus on one thing at a time.

She slowed her breathing and closed her eyes, focusing on inhaling and exhaling. She felt her fingers curl into her hands, broken nails scoring crescents against her palms. She pushed harder, wincing as her nails bit into the soft flesh. The pain jolted her out of the panicked stupor and sobered her.

She pushed herself into a sitting position. Her clothing was completely soaked through, and her wet hair was plastered to her neck. She looked around the darkened chamber and took note of her surroundings. Several stalactites hung to the floor, meeting the rising points of stalagmites to form thick columns. The compounded columns continued further down the cave like a grove of trees. She caught sight of something glinting in the shadows, lodged between two pillars. She looked back at the silvery pool and watched the translucent cavefish scatter out of view.

On shaking legs, Saoirse forced herself to walk carefully toward the glinting surface in the distance. She kept her eyes on the ground just in case a new hole decided to open under her again. She stalked past the towering pillars of stone, looking between each darkened row for any sign of danger. Gooseflesh crawled up her damp arms. She had the distinct feeling of being watched.

The glinting thing in the distance turned out to be a thin sheet of reflective crystal. Saoirse studied herself on the glass-like surface. She looked positively haggard. With bandaged arms, hair slicked to her skull, sodden clothing, and dark smudges of color under gaunt eyes, she looked like a drowned girl who’d just woken up in the Underworld. Saoirse’s eyes trailed along the edge of the crystal mirror, following the seam between the sparkling sheet and the mineral column.

She walked further down the chamber, noticing several more floor-to-ceiling panels of crystal glinting between the pillars. They grew more frequent, multiplying her reflection as she approached. It was like a garden of mirrors, each one a different size and level of clarity. Some made her look squat and wide; others stretched her body so she appeared taller than Rook. At some point, the cavern walls became completely lined with glass-like shards of crystal. Everywhere she looked, her own sunken eyes stared back at her. Mirrors protruded out of the earth every few steps, warping Saoirse’s already questionable concept of direction. The unspooling cavern reflected behind her, making it seem like there were an infinite number of snaking caves and columns in every direction. It felt like she was walking toward several duplicate versions of herself, framed by an unending crystal dimension that uncoiled into glass and shadow.

Her head started to spin. Her warped reflections grew unsettling in her peripheral vision, and she felt the sudden urge to break every shining surface she passed. In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw one of her reflections smile.

Her heart nearly stopped.

She backtracked and came to stand in front of the crystal panel, eyes growing wide as she peered at the smiling version of herself. Lips pulled back to reveal sharpened teeth. She blinked and the eerie reflection stopped smiling, replaced by a bewildered Saoirse with haunted eyes. She was going mad down here.

She pressed her back against the polished stone and slid down to the ground. She bracketed her head between her arms, chin lowering to her sternum as the world went in and out of focus. Her breaths came out in shaky whisps, her lungs feeling shallow as she fought to inhale. There wasn’t enough air.

My brave girl. I love you, came her mother’s voice.

Saoirse envisioned her mother within that horrid cell, confined in the unending cold and numbing silence for eight years. If Eleyera could survive the ravaging dark, so could Saoirse. She would be brave. For her mother. For Rook. For herself. With one last shuddering breath, Saoirse lifted her head.

“Saoirse?” a distant voice echoed.

She jumped at the sound, shooting up from her huddled position. Was her mind playing tricks on her? She peered around a shard of crystal, eyes squinting through the darkness.

There. A pale cascade of blinding white hair reflected in the crystal mirrors, coming closer. A torn gown of blue silk rippled in the glass-like surface.

“Sloane!”

Saoirse all but ran to the Terradrin princess. Relief flooded her terror-choked mind as she threw her arms around Sloane. She was real and solid, not an imagined face in the shadows. Sloane was momentarily stunned by Saoirse’s embrace, her spine rigid as iron. Then she hugged her back and awkwardly patted her wet hair.

“You made it through the gates,” Saoirse breathed. She scanned the woman’s moon-pale complexion and angular face. Her painted lips were smudged, a steak of crimson smeared on the corner of her mouth like blood. But aside from her disheveled appearance, Sloane looked relatively unharmed. She looked over Sloane’s shoulder. “Where’s Tezrus? Is he safe?”

Sloane nodded and a loose tendril of white hair fell across one sharp cheekbone. “Tezrus is safe. He’s looking for the Moonstone Shard with Hasana and Rook.”

“Thank the stars.” The plan was well in hand despite all their missteps.

“We need to get out of here and meet up with the others.” Sloane’s ghostly eyes darted around the cavern. “We still have time to save your mother.”

Together, they navigated the unnerving garden of mirrors until they reached the end of the chamber.

“What happened after Neia and I entered the Garden of Gods?” Saoirse asked as they began climbing up a sharp incline. Mercifully, there were no more mirror stones in sight. She never thought she’d be so happy to see a dull limestone passageway in her life.

“We headed in shortly after you disappeared into the garden. My father’s underguards never saw it coming. They barely had time to react before Tezrus and I were on the other side of the gates. My father was furious, of course. With the killing wards draped over the archway, he didn’t dare send anyone else after us, just as we predicted. It was quite satisfying to see his befuddled face on the other side.”

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