Page 17 of From the Myths of Kings

Of course, you’re relieved, he told himself. The information they gathered is imperative for victory against Selussa, nothing more.

“Thank you so much for joining our cause, Tezrus,” Hasana said, turning toward the individual sitting next to Neia. The hunched old man gave Hasana a watery smile, the paper-thin skin around his sunken milky eyes creasing. “Your aid is truly invaluable for our mission.”

“The honor is all mine,” the old man replied in an earnest, reedy voice.

Rook listened intently as the scholar went on to describe his knowledge of the Four Kinsmen and the founding of Revelore. As each thread of the story was woven, the severity of what they were up against solidified into a dire picture. The table was grave as Tezrus described how the Order of Elders had been secretly been serving the Titans for centuries, biding their time until the right opportunity to resurrect their dead gods presented itself. The air was electrified and surreal, as though the mere mention of the myths drudged up ancient magic from the fabric of reality. The shadows cloaking the great hall seemed to darken with each unveiled truth. Rook’s skin pebbled as an eerie feeling crept over him, cold and silent as falling snow.

When the scholar explained how Selussa had heeded the Elder’s call a hundred years ago and rose from the Underworld, Rook’s stomach churned with nausea. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as the wound in his abdomen burned like a thorn in his side. Had Selussa poisoned him with some Helish magic when she’d stabbed him with his own blade?

Tezrus continued to describe how Selussa devised a plan to infiltrate the Mer kingdom and steal Elorshin’s Relic by disguising herself as an Auran princess, which ultimately led to the War of the Age. Saoirse had already disclosed this information to Rook, but hearing it from the mouth of a former Elder gave the story new weight. Various expressions of slack-jawed disbelief and grim looks of horror were written on faces around the table. Like Rook, most of them had been taught the Myths of Old through the lens of folklore.

During the Tournament, Rook had an inkling bigger powers were at play. He vividly remembered flying with Saoirse to that floating pavilion after the first trial. He recalled how they’d speculated there was something more to the Tournament, a secret bubbling just beneath the surface they could both sense. They each told their sides of the story that day, sharing their interpretations about what happened between King Lorsan and Princess Yrsa all those years ago. Saoirse’s intuition had been right, but the magnitude was greater than their wildest speculations. The question he asked Saoirse that day echoed through his mind: What makes you so sure that what I’ve told you is false? Why is your version of the story correct and mine is a lie? It was horrific and astonishing that both of their kingdoms had been so wrong, pitted against each other for a hundred years over lies.

Silence fell over the table when Tezrus finished, each person mired in truths that had once been myth. Rook couldn’t help but think of Raven. Did she know the full scope of what the Elders demanded when she’d charged Eros and Veila with killing all remaining tributes in the final trial? Or was she so blinded by her loyalty to Aurandel she readily agreed to the Elders’ whims without question? Based on what she’d told him before the final trial, he didn’t think Raven knew the full gravity of their orders. His cunning sister wouldn’t indulge in the madness of the Elders if she knew the Order was trying to raise the Titans…Would she? Rook was now fully convinced he needed to find a way to meet his sister. She needed to know the truth before it was too late.

“Tezrus believes we can stop Selussa from resurrecting the Titans,” a voice broke the silence. Rook’s insides melted into a puddle, pooling in his stomach like soft candle wax at the sound of that voice. Saoirse stood from her chair and slipped out of the shadows. That familiar ache of traitorous longing sunk its claws into Rook’s heart.

He really was a mess, wasn’t he?

“Selussa only has two of the four Relics as of now,” Saoirse said. “Princess Hasana has diligently protected Tellusun’s Relic. To our knowledge, the Relic in the Under Kingdom is still safe from Selussa. Tezrus believes we can counter any resurrection spell she might create to free the Titans by enchanting the two Relics in our possession and using them against her.”

“We will set sail for Terradrin at first light,” Neia continued, picking up the explanation. “We’ll sneak into the Under Kingdom and steal the Relic before Selussa does.” As former commander of Terradrin’s army, Neia possessed invaluable knowledge of the Under Kingdom’s complex underground tunnels and cave systems. Paired with her aptitude for strategy and her inside knowledge of King Grivur’s guard postings, Neia would help find the Relic before anyone noticed it was missing.

“With the assistance of my right hand, Captain Rymir Barrow, our scheme has been completely laid out.” Neia gestured to the Terradrin male seated on her right. Rymir grinned in response, pearl-white teeth the same shade as his cropped hair. “Rymir’s contribution to our plan has been invaluable. Thanks to his connections with the underguards, he has made a way for us to sneak into the Under Kingdom undetected.”

Rook had heard of the Terradrin young captain on many occasions over the years. It was rumored Neia had taken Rymir under her wing after he’d been orphaned by a Wyrm attack on one of the outlying city quarters of the Under Kingdom. When he’d shown skill with a blade and a mind for strategy, he’d quickly advanced through the ranks during his teenage years in much the same way Rook had with the Aerials. Neia was perhaps a decade older than Rymir, and it was said their bond was akin to a sibling relationship. Though he’d never met Rymir in person, Rook had always felt an odd sort of kinship with the young captain, whose life mirrored his own in so many ways.

“Your praise flatters me, Commander,” Rymir smirked. Neia rolled her eyes, but the hint of a smile tugged on the corner of her mouth.

Rymir’s easy-going demeanor posed a sharp contrast to Neia’s sharp angles and stalwart countenance. Though his straight-backed posture spoke of disciplined training under Neia, Rymir’s face was less stern than his commander’s. A playful forelock hung over one pale eyebrow and his easy grin suggested he smiled often. Rook instantly liked him. But his smile faded when he realized Rymir’s obvious intelligence and carefree humor reminded him of Eros. His heart lurched as the thought of his former best friend.

“We have chosen to sail to Terradrin for several reasons,” Rymir began. “For one, it will cut our travel time in half. By sailing, we can avoid cutting through the jungled Isles of Mythos entirely. For another, Aurandel and Terradrin will be on high alert. Our sources have confirmed that both kingdoms have been gathering their armies near Mt Thalia, but their lands are crawling with spies and they’re ready to mobilize at a moment’s notice. To our knowledge, Aurandel does not know of the Relics and therefore will not be expecting us to steal the artifact from the Under Kingdom. However, they are watching our every move with scrutiny, and it would be impossible to travel on the continent without catching their notice.”

Neia’s face glowed with pride as Rymir described the plan, beaming like an older sister. Her obvious support came as a shock; Neia had never been one for sentimentality or tenderness. Rook felt a shameful prick of jealousy as he watched them collaborate across the table. Raven had never given him true power in the Aerial ranks. She’d allowed him the illusion of authority, permitting him to play the role of captain but never truly creating a space for him to express his ideas. She didn’t trust him, citing his empathetic leanings as a weakness.

Raven’s past words echoed in his ears: You have such a good heart, Rook. But to win, your heart mustn’t be good. A sour taste built in Rook’s mouth. In another life, maybe they could’ve had a relationship like Rymir and Neia’s. But it wasn’t this life. He washed down his pain with more wine.

Rymir unrolled a map on the table for Neia. She traced their journey across the Southern Sea, making a beeline for the Terradrin coast. “Though Aurandel might not know of our true motivations, Selussa undoubtedly does. The Sea Witch will be on the hunt for the next Relic soon if she hasn’t already started. This means we will be in her territory. Captain Kreston, would you kindly elaborate on the next phase of our plan?”

“As we have been preparing for the heist, we’ve also been watching Selussa’s activity in the Maeral Sea for the past week,” Sune Kreston’s voice cut in. “A few Mer volunteers and I staked out the northern coast of Fatima and gained insight as to what the Witch has been up to. Selussa has been spotted only once since she fled to Kellam Keep after the final trial. It is our understanding that she released all the nightmarish creatures locked away in the Fretum and has laid ruin to the imperial city. According to our reports, she is still occupying the northern half of the Maeral Sea and has not attempted to invade the Southern Sea yet. However, now that Selussa is ruling over the ocean, her freed beasts will be prowling every inch of the seas, waiting to devour any wayward ships that dare to sail her waters.”

Rook peered at Saoirse from the corner of his eyes. She had paled at the mention of Selussa’s conquering of her homeland. She was likely thinking of her father. No one had seen the Mer King since the Sea Witch had conquered Kellam Keep, but he was presumed dead. Rook’s heart lurched with sympathy. No, he cut in. Do not seek to comfort her.

Sune continued, “We have determined that a diversion will ensure the best sailing circumstances for us. If we can draw Selussa’s attention away from the Southern Sea, we may avoid being attacked by her beastly sea creatures and falling prey to her ire. A carefully timed diversion will not only keep Selussa’s eye trained away from our ship, but it will also catch the attention of Aurandel and Terradrin. We anticipate this distraction will ensure our safe passage and reduce the potential interference of all antagonistic forces, mortal or otherwise.”

Rook leaned back in his chair and took another sip of wine. The liquid warmed in his stomach, grounding him. The moving pieces of their already-risky plan were expanding. Each component would need to go off without a hitch to have any chance of success. If even one part of their scheme went awry, the plan would collapse. How did he fit into this grand scheme of theirs? There would be no opportunity for Rook to steal away and meet Raven in three days if they were sailing directly to Terradrin at first light.

“So what is the diversion you have in mind?” Rook asked carefully, running a finger along the bronze rim of his cup.

“I have volunteered to lead the diversion myself,” Sune answered. “While scouting the coast of Fatima, we learned that Mer refugees have fled from Selussa’s wrath by escaping ashore. Several Mer refugee encampments are forming on the Isles of Mythos. I will lead a large rescue party that will assist with relocating the displaced Merfolk to Tellusun. We believe our presence on the Isles will be unusual enough that Aurandel will turn its focus on us and allow the second group to sail to Terradrin unhindered. We will also be performing small relief missions to Kellam Keep and other Mer cities in the hope we can rescue even more Merfolk. This should be sufficient to capture Selussa’s attention as well.”

Rook couldn’t believe his luck. “I’ll go with you,” he offered. “If Aurandel’s spies see me among the volunteers, this will only strengthen the diversion. My presence will add weight to your rescue efforts and reinforce Aurandel’s focus on the Isles.”

And, he thought, it will allow me to secretly meet with Raven without raising any alarms.

Sune considered Rook for a long moment, folding his silver-plated arms across his chest. Something like annoyance flickered across his stony face, whether because he knew Rook was right and he didn’t want to admit it, or because he was irritated he hadn’t thought of it himself, Rook couldn’t be sure. “Yes, your presence would certainly catch Aurandel’s notice.”

“But it would also increase the chances of an attack,” Neia added, crossing her arms. “If your sister believes we have coerced you into servitude in some way, she may very well decide to level an attack on the refugee camps and punish the resistance.”

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