Page 1 of From the Myths of Kings

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SAOIRSE

“Saoirse.”

Her name was an exhale of breath, a whisper curling against skin. The syllables of her name rolled from his tongue like drops of honey, sounding just as sweet in her ears. His hands were in her hair, the soft pads of his fingers hot as coals against the nape of her neck.

Saoirse opened her eyes and took in the hazy shape of Rook in the candlelight, his familiar silhouette stark against the flickering gold flames. With his magnificent wings pulled tight to his back, he looked like one of the ancient stone kings lining the amphitheater in Kellam Keep. He was drawing closer, his eyes heavy-lidded and his lips parted slightly.

She was lost to time, lost to the world. There was nothing in existence but the two of them.

“You betrayed me.”

Saoirse jerked away as if slapped. “What?—”

“You betrayed me, Saoirse,” came Rook’s voice again. If her name from his lips had sounded as sweet as nectar moments ago, now it sounded cold as sharpened steel. Suddenly, his gentle hands were digging into her skin, fingernails clawing at her neck. He leaned forward, inches from her face. Black tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and bled out, pouring down his high cheekbones and dripping onto her face like a cascade of oil.

“I didn’t betray you!” Saoirse tore at his hands, gasping as he pinned her to the floor. “I never meant to,” she rasped, watching in horror as Rook opened his mouth as if to retch. The same black liquid that spilled from his eyes gushed out like a shattered vial of ink. She gagged as it washed over her, oily and ice-cold. It smelled of rot.

“You betrayed me too,” came another voice.

Aurelia.

Saoirse twisted to see her friend standing a few feet away. The same black tears flowed down Aurelia’s cheeks and dribbled from her slack mouth, staining her tribute’s clothing. She kneeled and caressed Saoirse’s hair with a sick sort of affection as Rook continued to strangle her.

“You betrayed all of us.”

Saoirse stilled at the sound of that voice. She didn’t need to see him to know who it was. She opened her eyes and was transported to another room, this one startlingly familiar with its shelves of coral and its blazing hearth of eternal flame that glowed blue in the murky water. Her father’s study unfurled around her, the edges of her vision curling like burnt parchment. In her hands, the potion bottle Selussa had given her to warp her father’s mind was cracked in two. Broken shards bit into her palms.

King Angwin took Rook’s place, her father’s hands now wrapped around her throat. His eyes were gone, instead replaced by hollow sockets of eternal darkness.

“You left me. You. Left. Me. YOU LEFT ME!”

His voice grated across her mind like shards of jagged glass, mirroring the pain in her palms. He repeated the words over and over again, his voice ringing with a multitude of voices that sounded like one and a thousand.

Saoirse choked and writhed in his grasp, her body drenched in slippery black liquid that reeked of death. She tried to scream but nothing came out, the putrid black fluid thick in her mouth.

I’m sorry, she wanted to scream.

Yes, I betrayed you. All of you. But then everything changed. Let me make this right.

But the words locked in her throat, coated in what she now realized was the Sea Witch’s blood.

Saoirse jolted awake. She shivered despite being soaked in sweat. She gasped, choking on the hot air that flooded her throat like skin blistering in the sun. She was grateful her airway was clear of Selussa’s rotten blood. She touched her throat gingerly, expecting to find crescents scored into her flesh where her father’s fingernails had dug in. But her skin was smooth and the light shimmer of translucent scales that dusted her neck remained unblemished. She ran a finger over her lips. They were cracked and dry, not moistened by phantom kisses or sour blood.

Just a dream. Not real.

In the slice of moonlight that cleaved through her tent, Saoirse searched for the vial of titansblood she kept by her side. Her hands closed around the small glass. With shaking fingers, she uncorked the concoction and lifted it to her lips, tossing back the bitter liquid and swallowing. The bright burn of titansblood potion on her tongue was a small mercy compared to the memory of the putrid oil of Selussa’s blood. Her eyes fluttered closed as the brew settled. She winced as her lungs shifted with the titansblood, slowly taking in air more easily than before. Though it was a familiar sensation now, it was no less uncomfortable and unnatural.

Saoirse opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings in the dim light. The ground was soft beneath her bedroll. She dug her fingers into the earth, savoring the gritty feel of the fine sand against her palm. She lifted a handful and let it filter down through her fingers. The cool granules anchored her to reality.

A panel of moonlight illuminated the empty bedroll next to hers, the indentation of a body still lingering in the fabric. The cursed memory of Aurelia with black tears spilling down her face surfaced in her mind. She recalled the unnerving feel of Aurelia’s cold hands running through her hair in an absurd mockery of affection.

No. It was just a dream.

She stood up and ducked under the low tent opening. The endless sands of the Shujaa Desert rippled like waves as far as the eye could see, limned in silver under the glow of the moon. The terrain was smooth and unbroken, unfurling like a parchment scroll over an uneven surface to dip below the inky-dark horizon. Unlike the torrid heat that baked the sands during the day, the desert was cold under the cover of nightfall. Saoirse inhaled as a breeze whispered across the dunes—it was a crisp, earthy aroma punctuated by a slight tang of sweetness. But she couldn’t shake the taste of Selussa’s blood in her throat. She couldn’t stop hearing the echo of her father’s voice in her ears.

You left me.

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