Page 59 of From the Myths of Kings

But instead of a throng of soldiers, only a lone hooded figure slipped into the prison block. The woman slipped the hood from her head, revealing a shock of bone-white hair. Sloane. Rook had only met the Terradrin princess a handful of times in his life. In fact, at one point, there were rumors the two of them might even become betrothed one day. But that was before his parents’ untimely deaths. After the tragic murder of his parents, any possible marital alliance between Aurandel and the kingdom responsible for their deaths bordered on treasonous.

After the Terradrin rebel group had been destroyed and the initial hostilities between their kingdoms had cooled, Rook had only seen Sloane in passing. It was well known that Grivur rarely permitted his daughter to leave the Under Kingdom. Though Grivur claimed it was for her protection, Rook was inclined to believe that it was not love that kept her locked away, but rather toxic possession and the need for control. He felt sympathy for Sloane. Even if she wasn’t currently caged behind bars, she was just as much a pawn in Grivur’s games as they were.

Sloane came to stand before Saoirse, her dark cloak pooling on the stained limestone floor like a puddle of shadow. A satchel was slung over one of her shoulders. She worried about the leather strap anxiously. “You read my note?” she whispered.

Saoirse gave a curt nod, her eyes guarded. She was right to be wary. Sloane could very well have been sent to trick them.

“Did you tell the others?” Sloane asked, turning to face Rook and Hasana across the cell block.

“Tell us what?” Hasana asked. Her eyes darted between Sloane and Saoirse, a dark eyebrow lifting curiously.

“I’ll take that as a no. That was very wise. The underguards are stationed right outside of the prison block and they’re always listening. They would’ve reported anything suspicious to my father.” She looked toward the prison’s entrance, hatred flaring in her pale eyes. “Don’t worry, they aren’t listening now. I made sure we’d have a moment of privacy. But we must make this quick. They’ll be back in a few moments.” She turned her focus on Hasana and said, “I want to help you. I can arrange your escape.”

Rook’s mouth dropped open. Up until now, Sloane had been regretfully obedient to Grivur, like a hound that had been kicked one too many times. Though she seemed earnest, a flicker of distrust sparked in Rook’s chest.

“How do we know you won’t betray us to your father?” he asked. “How can we trust you? This could just be another one of Grivur’s games.”

Sloane looked at Rook and pursed her lips. “You can’t trust me,” she answered candidly. “I won’t lie to you about that. You have every reason to doubt my word. But I swear to you that I genuinely want to free you all. My father is delusional. His madness will only end when he is standing in a puddle of our spilled blood. Even mine.” A shadow of sadness crossed over her face before she straightened with resolve. “I’m going to escape with you. I’ve been locked away for so long, enduring his nonsensical whims and deranged impulses because I had no other choice. I need to leave this place just as much as you do. Before it is too late.”

The emotion in her voice couldn’t be faked. Rook had seen the way Sloane had hurried to obey Grivur’s every demand, the way she flinched when Grivur spoke to her. He didn’t doubt her father’s madness had left its mark on her behind closed doors. The anger that burned in Sloane’s eyes told him Grivur had been tormenting his daughter long before his recent paranoia. She was terrified for her life. Her father had already executed his advisors and most of the members of the court. She would be next.

They were all going to die in the games at any rate. Grivur would make sure of that. They had nothing to lose in accepting her offer of aid. Either they would be betrayed by Sloane, and they’d die, or they would refuse her help and still be killed at the end of Grivur’s Tournament. Rook had to hope Sloane was sincere because if she wasn’t, they had no other means of escape.

“All right, what would you have us do?” Hasana asked, coming to the same conclusion as Rook. “We’re out of options. If you say you can help us escape, then we must take you at your word.”

Sloane stole an anxious glance at the prison door and began unclasping her satchel. “You need to survive the remaining two trials. I cannot get you out before then.”

“And if we’re killed during these next two games?” Neia asked skeptically, crossing her arms. “Why can’t you help us before we need to face the next challenge?”

“The final trial will offer you a way out,” Sloane answered cryptically. “We’ll use the third challenge’s location to our advantage. Just trust me.” She rummaged through the bag, eyes darting back to the prison door. “They’re coming back already. I need to leave.”

She hastily ran to each of their cells and shoved something small in between the bars. She stopped before Rook’s cage and pressed a corked vial into his palm. The tubular glass was no bigger than his index finger. A putrid green liquid the color of pond scum sloshed inside, perhaps only one swallow’s worth.

“The next game will require you to hold your breaths underwater for an extensive period,” Sloane explained. “This elixir is given to miners as a precaution in case of emergency flooding in the tunnels. It will allow you to hold your breaths much longer than is natural but use it sparingly. Once it is gone, you won’t be able to take another dose.” She skipped over Saoirse, given that she could breathe underwater.

Rook’s stomach hollowed out at the thought of navigating dark, flooded tunnels. Confined spaces were his worst nightmare. The pairing of already-claustrophobic caves with a rising surge of water made him want to vomit. “What else can we expect?” he rasped out. “Where will the next trial take place?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you anymore,” Sloane apologized, delivering the last vial of the potion into Neia’s waiting hand. The underguards were returning now, their footsteps on the stone and snatches of conversation rumbling out from behind the door.

“I’ll try to return before the second trial. But if I don’t…” she trailed off and raced across the prison block, pulling her hood over her head once more. She turned to look over her shoulder one last time at them, eyes glinting under her hood. “My glory be given.” She slipped out of the prison block, dark cloak whispering against the stones as she disappeared through the doorway. The door shut soundly behind her.

Rook stared at the tiny vial in his palm. He was terrified of what Grivur had in store for them, but for the first time since he’d been captured, he felt a seed of hope beginning to take root in his heart. They had a way out. With Sloane’s help, they might escape the Under Kingdom within a matter of days. They just had to survive until then.

27

ROOK

Rook’s breaths were shallow as he shuffled blindly down the path. Anxiety wormed its way into his thundering heart, and he fought to keep calm. If Sloane spoke true of the challenge, he needed to keep his breathing under control while he still could. With every step forward, he felt the small vial tucked safely in his tunic. Even with the potion, he needed to maintain some semblance of composure. He wouldn’t last long if he panicked.

The underguards had come to collect them for their mysterious water trial a day after Sloane’s secret visit. Only twenty-four hours had passed since the last trial, so it seemed Grivur was indeed keeping his charade of a Tournament as close to the original as possible. Staying in tradition with three trials over the course of three days meant the third one would occur tomorrow. They were so close to escape that Rook could almost taste it. But he had to keep his wits about him for this game. Anything could happen between now and the final trial.

Rook had tried his best to sleep, but the fear of another unwelcome vision and Grivur’s next game had prevented him from truly resting. Now, as a spear tip was pressed to his spine, he felt his sleep deprivation keenly. With his pounding head and weary muscles distracting him, he could barely register their surroundings.

Stay focused, Rook. You can do this.

Abruptly, the underguards halted and Rook nearly lost his balance. The metallic rattle of chains in his ears made his head throb.

“We’ve arrived,” Sloane called from up ahead. “You may remove their hoods.”

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