Page 6 of From the Myths of Kings

“Where is it coming from?” Aurelia cocked her head trying to catch the notes in the air. “I don’t hear anything.”

Noora was giving her an odd look. “Saoirse?—”

Saoirse turned toward the sound and strode forward, growing louder with each step closer. The voice flowed like a river to her ears, undefined and raw as it tumbled over rocks and uneven drops. She ducked under a hanging vine and pushed a swell of blooming flowers away, following the elusive voice on the breeze. The timbre was so familiar, touching a part of her memory with its cadence. She wove between the palm trees and tried to pinpoint the distant sound. Gradually, the voice became more defined and recognizable, its warm tone forming into words and attaching itself to a person she knew. A person she loved.

“Saoirse,” he called. “Saoirse.”

She froze.

Rook. It couldn’t be. He was in Bezhad. Why was he here?

Behind her, Aurelia and Noora crashed through the thick greenery, breathing heavily. Saoirse hadn’t realized she had been running after Rook’s voice. How long had she been chasing the elusive sound?

“Saoirse, there is no voice!” Aurelia cried between gasps. “Stop running!”

“Rook is here. Why would he have come to find us? Something must be wrong.”

Saoirse couldn’t stop hearing his voice in her head. It sounded so clear now, like he was standing directly behind her and was speaking against the shell of her ear. She jumped at the hot breath on her ear, spinning around. There was nothing behind her except lush trees. She craned her neck skyward, hoping to find him soaring through the clouds, his wings outstretched on a breeze.

The sky was empty.

Saoirse’s shoulders slumped as understanding washed over her. His insistent voice faded in the wind the moment she realized she’d been under a spell. Droning silence replaced the hollows where his voice had echoed.

Hel’s teeth. The Soundless Oasis had deceived her once again. She had been fully convinced Rook was here, any trace of doubt wiped from her mind as if someone had deliberately removed all her sense of reasoning. Saoirse felt like a fool, but she knew the heady magic in the air was difficult, if not impossible, for even the most seasoned soldier to resist.

She told herself she was relieved Rook wasn’t here. His absence meant the rebellion’s meticulous planning in Bezhad was going according to plan. But a secret part of her wilted at the reality that he hadn’t come. Hearing his familiar voice, even fabricated by magic, reminded her how much she missed his easy smile and steady presence. She missed the days when he didn’t hate her.

She was about to apologize for straying so far from their intended path when a haze slipped over Noora’s face. Her gaze grew distant and unseeing, as though a sheer veil had been draped over her eyes. Saoirse recognized that expression; Noora was listening to a voice only she could hear.

“Hasana,” Noora whispered. She turned toward the phantom sound and began following it, charting a path through the forest only she could see. “Hasana, what’s wrong?” Her voice was panicked, laced with an acute terror reserved for someone beloved.

“Wait, Noora! It’s just the oasis, it’s not real!” Saoirse called. “Don’t listen to it!”

She began to run after the archer but stopped when she realized Aurelia wasn’t moving, her body rigid as a statue. The same glazed look shone in Aurelia’s eyes. Her brows furrowed; a look of confusion mingled with fear twisted across her face as whatever voice in her head called to her.

Saoirse grabbed Aurelia’s arm, squeezing it with just enough force to hopefully pull her out of the trance. “Aurelia,” she called gently. “It isn’t real. Whoever’s voice you’re hearing—they aren’t here.” Perhaps Aurelia was listening to the voice of her lover, Sune.

“No, it’s all right,” Aurelia replied softly. She turned to Saoirse, her eyes bright with clarity. For some reason, she was blinking back tears and appeared quite shaken. “It wasn’t the voice itself. It’s what the voice told me that was disconcerting.” Aurelia abruptly wrapped her arms around Saoirse and held tight for a brief second. Saoirse barely had time to register her friend’s embrace before Aurelia let go and turned in the direction Noora had run off to.

Saoirse opened her mouth to speak. What horrible lies had the oasis whispered to Aurelia that could evoke such unease in someone normally so self-assured?

“Let’s find Noora,” Aurelia interrupted before Saoirse could ask. She closed her mouth in resignation, trapping her overflowing questions back in her throat. Later, she thought. Later she would ask Aurelia what she’d heard.

They tore through the jungle of hanging vines and twisting tree limbs, occasionally hacking through thick branches and tangled leaves with their swords. The forest grew denser as they followed Noora’s frantic voice. Flowers sprouted up and vines darted across their path as if the oasis was hedging itself between them and Noora. Trees that had been scattered across the oasis before were now flush against each other, forcing them to find another way around.

“Hel’s teeth.” A thick clot of vines dropped from the treetops, conveniently halting just at eye level. Saoirse slashed through churlish tangles of green and dove over winding branches, trying not to lose Noora’s distant cries of distress even as the forest moved and warped around them like they were playing pieces on a game board.

When they finally emerged from the thick wall of trees, they found Noora in a clearing, her eyes still heavy-lidded and dazed with the oasis’s enchantment. She stood under a tree with low-hanging branches, staring blankly at the small glen. One of the tree branches began to move unnaturally, curling over another branch and dipping toward Noora. At first, Saoirse thought it was just another piece of the oasis’s magic animating the tree just as it had summoned the plants to block her and Aurelia’s path. But with a sudden, horrifying realization, Saoirse saw that it wasn’t a branch.

A huge python was wrapped around the tree truck, its brown scales blending into the bark. Its muscular body was as thick as the branches it constricted. The snake had to be at least nineteen feet long, dwarfing Noora’s slight frame.

“Noora!” Saoirse screamed. “Noora!”

She and Aurelia sprinted across the clearing, feet flying as quick as their pulses. They watched helplessly as the python slithered down the branch. The serpent was so heavy the branch bowed under its weight, leaves shivering. The snake’s great head lurched toward Noora, a forked tongue tasting the air just above her. It began to twine itself around Noora’s shoulders like a huge spool of thread, its muscles flexing with every curve. Saoirse felt sick.

“Noora!” They were running as fast as they could, splashing through puddles of water and leaping over rocks that appeared right in their path, haphazardly placed there by the oasis like a child carelessly tossing pebbles on the ground. The snake would crush Noora any minute now.

Their movement startled the python. It lifted its huge head as they approached, its beady eyes glittering in the shade. It hissed in warning. Aurelia unsheathed her sword, readying to cut off its head in one fell swoop. But something wasn’t right. The snake was wrapped around Noora several times over, but she was breathing normally. There were no signs of suffocation, no ruddy flush on her cheeks as her blood rose higher and her circulation was cut off. In just the right light, the python’s brown scales shimmered green. Aurelia lifted her blade above her head, a snarl on her lips.

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