Page 60 of From the Myths of Kings

Rook braced himself for an abrupt change in light, but the shadows that enveloped them were not much different from the black hoods keeping them in the dark. They stood in a damp grotto illuminated by wavering torchlight. Large rock formations dripped from the ceiling, some of them hanging so low they nearly touched the pool of cloudy water swallowing up half the chamber. The water was tinged green as the torchlight caught on the bioluminescent algae glowing on the cave walls. Aside from a few crawlspaces Rook wouldn’t be able to fit into, the only exit was the tunnel they’d just been led down. His heart raced even faster as he scanned the low-hanging ceiling and seemingly bottomless pool at the center of the cavern. What would they be forced to do here?

“Welcome tributes!” Grivur came up behind them from the entrance tunnel, his signature crimson robes trailing over the uneven cave floor. A delusional grin split his milk-pale face as the torchlight passed over him. “I hope you got some rest before the second trial; you’re going to need your strength for what is next!”

He clapped gleefully, rings glinting in the flickering light. He placed a hand on Sloane’s shoulder and she visibly flinched. She stared blankly ahead, her back as rigid as steel as he dug his fingers into her velvet-clad arm.

“Thank you so much for bringing our tributes here, daughter. You’ve been an excellent Tournament Ambassador. It seems you’re the only one I can trust in these dark days.” Perhaps it was only because he knew that Sloane was scheming against her father, but Rook could’ve sworn Grivur’s praise sounded more like a threat than thanks.

“Of course, father,” she answered, her empty eyes still staring straight ahead. A corner of her painted lips twitched almost imperceptibly, the only indication her emotionless display was artificial.

“And I must thank our Master of Trials as well,” Grivur chuckled, turning his attention toward Tezrus, who once again donned the purple Elder’s robe. “Your presence has been most helpful in replicating the Tournament.” Tezrus’s eyes were wide with terror as Grivur clapped a hand on his back, his frail shoulders shaking under the thick robe. “Would you like to instruct our tributes with the following guidelines?” He shoved a piece of parchment into Tezrus’s trembling hands and grinned when the old man shuddered. It wasn’t a question.

The Scholar held out the paper and squinted as it quivered between his fingers. He went pale as his eyes skimmed over the instructions. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish.

“Go on then,” Grivur barked. “We don’t have all day.”

“Welcome, honored tributes,” Tezrus recited thinly. “You are now ready to compete in the second trial of the Tournament.” It was the same opening Korina had greeted them with during the second trial under the Stone Circle. Gooseflesh prickled on Rook’s neck as he thought about how much had changed since that time in the caves with Eros and Veila.

“You are tasked with navigating the flooded tunnels of this grotto in groups of two. The walls are marked with checkpoints so you may find your way out. You must make it out of the course within three hours.” With each line he read, Tezrus’s voice grew more feeble. “Your teammates have already been chosen for you. Hasana will be paired with Neia. Saoirse will be paired with Rook. May glory be given.”

Rook’s gaze darted to Saoirse. Relief wasn’t exactly the word to describe how he felt about being paired with her. Selfishly, he was pleased the two of them would work together. However, Neia was native to the Under Kingdom and would likely be able to navigate through the tunnels with relative ease. Saoirse, on the other hand, could breathe underwater and was undoubtedly a strong swimmer. No matter who he was paired with, he would be deadweight and useless. He might end up being Saoirse’s downfall.

“There you have it,” Grivur cut in. “The terms of the second trial have been laid out for you. Please unlock their shackles,” he ordered the underguards. “You’ll have enough difficulty as it is. We don’t want to sentence you to death with those chains weighing you down, now do we? We want this to be entertaining after all!”

“How merciful,” Neia grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Grivur snarled.

“Nothing,” she mumbled as the underguards moved to unlock their handcuffs. Grivur gave his former commander a withering look.

Rook flexed his wrists when the metal shackles had been removed. It was a small relief to be freed from the stifling chains, but terror still pounded through his blood. He made his way over to Saoirse, who was standing at the edge of the pool peering down. He followed her eyes into the depths of the reservoir. It was difficult to make anything out in the cloudy, green-hued water, but he could tell the pool extended deep into the earth. His stomach churned at the thought of diving blindly down into a bottomless pit.

“Don’t drink the potion yet,” Saoirse whispered. “You can’t let Grivur see you with it.”

Rook nodded, resisting the urge to clench the vial for reassurance. Hasana and Neia looked over at them from where they stood a few paces away.

“We can do this,” Hasana said. “Stay alive.”

And suddenly, hands shoved Rook from behind. Before he could process what was happening, he found himself with a mouthful of silty water. He surfaced and choked on the water, blinking up at where Neia and Hasana still stood on the edge of the pool. Saoirse’s head popped out of the water next to him, tendrils of soaked hair plastered to her neck. He could feel her fingers twine with his under the surface of the pool.

“You’ll go first,” Grivur barked. “Once you’ve gone ahead, Neia and Hasana will start. Don’t even think about trying to wait for them to find you. The tunnels will periodically shift and change as Larkin wills, so no path will be the same. Best get a head start.”

Rook treaded water for a moment, his boots and clothing already soaked through. He looked down at the descending pit below him. Where were they supposed to go?

“There must be tunnels along the submerged walls,” Saoirse guessed. “We can dive down and find an aperture. Once we are out of sight, you can drink the potion.”

“You two need to go before I have them spear you,” Grivur hissed. On cue, the underguards leveled their obsidian spears at them, lethally sharp points poised just above their heads in the water. “I won’t hesitate to kill you both if you don’t get moving. It’ll be just like harpooning cavefish.”

“Let’s go,” Saoirse ordered, diving below the water. Rook gulped in lungfuls of air before following her. His eyes burned as he kicked downward, his gaze distorted as he tried to see through the cloudy depths. Saoirse kept her hand locked around his and led him down the wall of the drowned pit. Already, his lungs felt like they were going to explode. Bubbles leaked out from between his lips involuntarily. He was losing oxygen much faster than he’d intended.

Saoirse pointed at a hole in the wall, her pale blue eyes glowing in the murky water. Her dark hair plumed around her, rising over her shoulders like a billowing cloak. The scales on her cheekbones and hands seemed more lustrous in the water. If he hadn’t been terrified of drowning, Rook might’ve been struck by the ease with which she swam, but he was much too preoccupied with controlling the stream of bubbles leaking from his nose and mouth to fully appreciate her athleticism.

Saoirse dove for the small opening, dragging him along behind her. The crevice was double the size of his shoulders, so he had plenty of room to slip into the tunnel. But even with a wide berth, claustrophobia immediately seized his heart as he swam into the small corridor. His lungs had now reached their limits and burned from lack of oxygen. His vision went in and out, black dots sputtering in the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on.

Just when he nearly gave up and let in a lungful of water, Rook found himself rising upward through a vertical shaft. His body was weightless as the two of them vaulted upward, Saoirse’s legs kicking just above his head. And suddenly, he broke the surface of the water. He gasped as air filled his aching lungs like a soothing balm. Delicious, vital air. He was certain he’d almost lost consciousness in the shaft.

When he finally stopped coughing, he looked around at their surroundings. More bioluminescent algae coated the walls, casting an ethereal glow throughout the small chamber. The tunnel opened into a small, relatively dry cavern. Saoirse pulled herself over the lip of the hole and helped him out. He laid back against the slick rocks and inhaled over and over again, the burning in his chest gradually subsiding and the dots in his vision fading.

“Are you okay?” Saoirse leaned over him, her dark hair gilded in soft glowing light. Trickles of water trailed down her face and dripped onto his forehead. So beautiful.

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