“I knew the stories of the Relic’s disappearance long ago, heard the rumors of how it had returned to the place from whence it was hewn. I am extraordinarily powerful, but I am no stone-singer.” Selussa picked at her claw-like nails with chilling nonchalance. “I cannot absorb magical abilities unless willingly given?as you well know?so I wasn’t sure how to steal the stone-singer girl’s power. Larken, I believe she is called. I couldn’t hear the song of the Moonstone Shard without her abilities. But I found my first opening in a lonely girl with hollow eyes.”

The black voids of her eyes flicked over to Sloane’s cold, rigor-stiff body. Faint amusement shone in her gaze. Saoirse wanted to stab those unfeeling eyes out.

“Why Sloane?”

“Grivur’s daughter was all too willing to make a bargain in exchange for her freedom. I took Sloane here at the beginning. I had a suspicion the Relic was hidden in the Garden of Gods. But I quickly realized that I’d be unable to find the Moonstone Shard on my own. We solidified our bargain right in this cave.”

Saoirse’s eyes stung with tears. Sloane had been left in this cold chamber for a week. She never got to taste the freedom that she so desperately craved. It wasn’t fair.

“You know how alluring my bargains are, don’t you princess? Sloane practically forced me to take the vial of her own blood, so desperate was she to be liberated from the confines of Grivur’s stifling halls. And of course, your half-witted band of rebels got themselves betrayed and all the pieces fell into my lap.” She started laughing then, a harsh, grating sound that inspired further rage in Saoirse.

“I couldn’t have planned it better myself. You may be surprised to learn that I had nothing to do with the Barrow boy’s betrayal. You got yourself into that mess all on your own. It was so perfect I almost thought you’d caught on to my schemes. I couldn’t believe how easy you made it?how fortuitous it was that Grivur was on the brink of madness and foaming at the mouth with paranoia. All the pieces were laid at my feet; I merely had to pick them up and arrange them to my desires.

“When your merry band of thieves got yourselves locked up in the mad king’s dungeons, I set my plans into motion. I was the one who suggested a Tournament. It was my voice that whispered of vengeance in Grivur’s ear. The mad king may have been cruel and volatile with his love, but he did love Sloane. Respected her even. So when his ‘daughter’ suggested he recreate the Tournament and force his enemies to atone for their defilement of an ancient tradition, he leaped at the chance. Only a madman would resort to hosting a second-rate Tournament. And I was named Tournament Ambassador, of course. We developed the three trials together. Oh, and I lied about the third trial being held in the Mines of Nerae. The final game was always set in the Garden of Gods. If I had told you ahead of time, you would’ve been suspicious. It would’ve been too easy, too convenient. So I let you think you’d gained the upper hand over Grivur, let you think you’d outwitted the king by hosting the final trial here.”

Saoirse wanted to vomit. There was nothing coincidental or advantageous about the final trial. It had been orchestrated by the Sea Witch all along. She’d purposefully isolated Tezrus and used him to search for the hidden Relic while the four of them were off battling sentient crystals. Selussa had been guiding them down the path like some omnipotent puppeteer, pulling the strings and watching from afar while they faced death several times over.

“Why all the theatrics and games? You could’ve just forced Larken to use her magic to locate the Relic within the Garden of Gods without ensnaring innocent lives in the process. You could’ve had your prize in a matter of hours. Why string it out over days, watching us believe we stood a chance in Grivur’s games?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Selussa grinned, black eyes glittering with ice-cold malice. “Your mortal efforts to stop me thus far have been so pitiful I could spare a few extra days watching you kill yourselves. Besides, Larken?powerful as she is?wouldn’t have been able to find the Moonstone Shard. It would’ve taken her years to isolate the moonstone’s call in this jungle of dissonant gemstones. I needed the man who hid it in the first place.”

Knowing the Sea Witch had been toying with them for sheer entertainment when she could’ve simply stolen the Relic and been on her way gave Selussa’s overwhelming power an even more lethal edge. She wasn’t just a goddess with an unholy objective; she was a monster using them for sport.

“It was much simpler this way. Why settle for the Terradrin Relic when I could guarantee all your deaths at the same time? After all, none of you stayed dead the first time around. Your little princeling should’ve remained dead in the arena. His blood should’ve seeped through the sand, feeding the souls of my siblings, and loosening their bindings. When I stabbed him with his own bloody dagger, that should’ve been the end of our bargain. But that Tellusun girl had to spoil it with her healing magic, didn’t she? I suppose some of the gifts of the sirens have lingered on, even if others have faded from time. We still have an unfinished bargain to fulfill, little Mer. It was your life or his, remember?”

Selussa lurched toward her with terrifying, unnatural speed. Ribbons of shadow exploded around the chamber, blotting out the light from the eternal flames. Saoirse felt her skull scrape against the ground as she was pinned down. The overwhelming scent of rotting flowers and decaying fish flooded Saoirse’s nose, scorching down her windpipe like acid. Selussa stood over her, dark shadows emanating from her palms like torrents of smoke. The tendrils of shadow curled around Saoirse’s limbs and immobilized her completely, pushing her against the rough stone floor like an insect under a boot.

She gasped for breath as Selussa’s shadows coiled around her neck. The Witch leaned closer, black eyes devouring all the light of the cave. Saoirse needed to distract her, needed something to use as a weapon. Her fingers flexed involuntarily, finding nothing but useless silt and dust under her palms. She could feel her vision growing dim as the wisps of darkness tightened around her spasming body. She had nothing to protect herself with.

But she had her words.

“I know who you are,” she choked out. The words wrenched out of her throat like a sob. A half-truth, but hopefully Selussa took the bait. Dark spots danced along the edges of her vision. “I know that you lost your kingdom. Anthemoessa.” Her voice sounded garbled and only half-audible, but this caught Selussa’s attention. She cocked her head to the side, a predatory movement that made her threads of shadow twitch ever so slightly.

“You know nothing, little Mer,” Selussa countered with a scoff. “I can see it in your eyes. Mere snatches of myth and rumor. You don’t know what it all means.”

“I know the truth.” Saoirse twisted against the writhing shadows. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fought to stay conscious. Her racing heartbeat throbbed in her ears. “I know that you are to blame for your kingdom’s collapse. You failed to protect your people and your divine siblings in the war. You were banished to the Underworld like a powerless Wyrm while everything you loved was destroyed.”

“Stop lying,” Selussa snarled. Her shadows tightened. Saoirse couldn’t even cry out in pain. “You know nothing of truth.”

“You don’t have true power,” Saoirse asserted. The words came out as a whisper between her teeth. The spots hovering on the edges of her sight multiplied, winking like dark stars in her eyes. “Without your bargains and your lies, you have nothing. You simply use others’ magic to your advantage, adopting their flesh and stealing their power so you can bend the world to your warped reality. Without desperate people to sink your claws into, you would have no power. Without Sloane, Yrsa, and me, none of?” Saoirse’s rasping voice was quickly cut off as the shadows constricted around her windpipe.

“I am no liar.” The words were a hiss from Selussa’s lips. She leaned in close, sharpened teeth perilously near Saoirse’s throbbing throat. Her eyes started rolling back into her head, eyelids fluttering.

“The truth is coming to the light.” Her hoarse voice was nearly gone, but she pushed the words from her tongue with the last dregs of breath from her lungs. “The Myths of Old are unraveling. We shall follow the footsteps of the mortals who killed their gods before us. The Titans will remain buried and soon you’ll join them.”

Selussa’s snarling slips quivered, red paint shining like blood. “I may have stolen flesh and power, but I’ve never stolen another’s voice, little Mer. Your beloved Four Kinsmen could not say the same. Your ancient rulers were not as perfect as legend says they were. Then again, they were the ones who wrote the Myths of Old, didn’t they?”

Saoirse’s eyes closed then. Only Selussa’s voice reverberated through her skull. She could feel the life being drawn out of her like poison from a wound. Her body spasmed but remained firmly in the Sea Witch’s chain-like shadows.

“Lies from the mouths of sirens led to my kingdom’s demise. My greedy people cast aside Anthemoessa in favor of power, fraternizing with mortal rulers as though I hadn’t given them everything. You are no better than those deceivers, girl.”

Vaguely, Saoirse felt a claw-like fingernail drag down her chest. The skin split, but she hardly felt any pain.

“You might not have a tail like them, nor a voice that could bring down the heavens and weave the very fabric of magic, but you are hewn from the same lying stock. Mer are not but a shadow of sirens and less powerful by half. You think you know what evil is, child. But I assure you, the worst is yet to come. I will bring forth nightmares from the myths of kings. I will?” Selussa’s words were blunted by a sharp cry of pain.

The ribbons of shadow loosened their hold on Saoirse’s body, finally allowing her lungs to fill. She choked on the rush of oxygen, curling in on herself. There was something hot and sticky on her sternum and she distantly identified it as blood.

“Saoirse!” A voice cried through the fog of her half-conscious mind. It was a thin sound that reminded her of the wind across the desert. “Saoirse, you need to leave. Now!”