Page 68 of From the Myths of Kings

SAOIRSE

Anxiety smeared itself across Saoirse’s grimy skin as she slumped against the corner of her cell. Her eyes burned into the door of the prison block, willing Sloane to bring them news of the third trial. She and Rook had been escorted to the cell block as soon as they’d emerged from the tunnels. Neia and Hasana had returned long before them, haggard and soaked to the bone, but both in one piece. With her intrinsic knowledge of the Under Kingdom’s tunnel networks, Neia had navigated through the flooded labyrinth easily enough. She and Hasana hadn’t drowned, so Saoirse took it as a sign that Sloane’s potion had done its job well. The Terradrin princess had proved her trustworthiness so far, but there was still one more trial to survive.

Across the walkway, Rook was similarly propped up against the wall, staring dazedly into the dark shadows of his cell. Beads of sweat glistened like morning dew on his forehead. Hasana’s healing magic was wearing off and the poison in his blood was returning with a swift vengeance. Having used all his remaining strength to survive the second trial, his depleted energy had paved the way for the fever to sink its claws back into him.

They were all so thoroughly exhausted they’d barely spoken since returning to the prison block, each of them nursing various injuries. Saoirse’s torn arms had been left untreated and the fresh gashes had begun to scab over. Her skin was beginning to throb with pain. At least they’d been given fresh clothing to wear. Her thin shift had been torn to shreds and she was grateful for the clean, dry tunic and leathers the underguards begrudgingly gave her. She suspected that Sloane had a hand in the small mercy.

She rocked on her heels as worry thundered through her chest. It had been hours since they’d returned, and they hadn’t heard a whisper from Sloane about how they would prepare for the final trial. What if she had a change of heart? What if Grivur found out she’d secretly helped them? It was abundantly clear that Sloane’s potion had guaranteed their survival. Without her aid, they wouldn’t have made it out of the flooded tunnels. Saoirse’s weary mind drifted back to those winding crawlspaces and drowned chambers, back to her mother’s dark cell.

Her mother.

She was alive. Saoirse still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. More than once, she’d considered the possibility that everything she and Rook had discovered in the flooded tunnels was all a dream that would unravel if she spoke it out loud. Her mother’s survival was a miracle, but her imprisonment carried a slew of new challenges they needed to consider during their escape. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t told Hasana and Neia about her mother yet. It was as though voicing the truth would jinx everything. But she knew she had to tell them.

Her mind turned over all the shocking details Eleyera had shared with them about Barrow Grimstone’s rebellion and the errancies of the Myths of Old. If Rymir learned his father hadn’t truly arranged the deaths of their parents, would he halt his misguided quest? How would the truth impact Neia, who’d been part of Grivur’s brutal inquisition for years? And what mysterious prophecy had her mother whispered about before the tide had forced them to abandon her?

Saoirse’s thoughts dimmed when the door to the prison creaked open. To her relief, Sloane hurried Tezrus into the cell block. No underguards flanked them. As gently as she could, Sloane helped the old man into his cell, an apologetic look on her face as she shut the door behind him.

“I am surprised each of you survived,” the Terradrin princess observed mildly, taking in their battered bodies. “That was quite a challenge for you to conquer.”

“Thanks to you,” Hasana said. “If you hadn’t given us those potions, we wouldn’t have made it out. We are indebted to you.”

Sloane nodded gravely. “I need you to survive for my own sake, too.”

“How are we going to escape during the third trial?” Saoirse asked, cutting straight to the point.

Sloane turned to her, opal eyes flashing. “The third trial will be the deadliest by far. It is to take place within the Norae Mines. It is one of the most complex and dangerous places in the Under Kingdom, both for the subterranean creatures that dwell there and for its layout. The mines fan out in vertical shafts bound together by only the narrowest of staircases. Hopefully, with all of us working together, we’ll be able to overcome any of its challenges. I’ve already thought of a plan for how we can all escape. Once the four of you enter the mines, Tezrus and I will follow. Tezrus will use his stone-singing magic to seal the entrance and buy us time to escape. Larken will be able to penetrate Tezruz’s blockade easily enough, but we’ll have the initial upper hand. The mines lay near the northern gates of the Under Kingdom, only a short distance from Adekite Harbor. From there, we can go wherever your next destination is. I have no qualms about where you need to go; I just want freedom.”

Saoirse exchanged a glance with Tezrus. Judging from the crease of concern that had formed between his eyebrows, he was thinking the same question: What about the Terradrin Relic? And then there was her mother to consider as well. They couldn’t leave the Under Kingdom without Eleyera or the moonstone shard. It seemed that surviving the final trial would be the least challenging part of their plan. They needed to tell Sloane the truth.

Sloane looked expectantly at them, picking up on their silent exchange of words. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her velvet-clad arms. “What? Do you see a flaw in my plan?”

Saoirse’s eyes flicked to Rook across the prison block, a silent question passing between them. Could the Terradrin princess be trusted? After a beat of silence, he nodded. They had little other choice. If they wanted Sloane’s help, she needed to know their true motives.

Saoirse inhaled slowly and began, “We came to the Under Kingdom for a very specific purpose. We were looking for something.”

Sloane cocked her head to the side and a tendril of moon-pale hair curled over one exposed shoulder. “Go on.”

Saoirse blew out the breath she’d been holding and proceeded to share the truth about the Myths of Old. Sloane listened intently, her eyes narrowing as Saoirse described how she’d bargained with Selussa and unknowingly freed a vengeful goddess Hel-bent on resurrecting the Titans. Tezrus chimed in every few minutes, adding additional context about the Order of Elders and the part they played in spilling the blood of tributes during the Tournament for the last century. They explained how Tezrus had hidden the Moonstone Shard within the Garden of Gods twenty years ago, just before he defected from the Order. Sloane quietly absorbed the information, asking very few questions. As they laid out their original plan to steal the Terradrin Relic, she paled even further.

When they finished describing the whole of their tale, Sloane was silent. Her jaw worked and her fingers clenched the soft fabric of her skirts, knuckles going white. Her painted red lips twitched as though she wanted to ask a question but couldn’t quite bring herself to.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Saoirse apologized, breaking the thick silence. “None of this is easy to digest, even for me.”

Sloane considered each of them for a moment with an odd expression on her face. It was as though she saw the world in a new light and they’d all grown second heads. Her long fingers flexed and unflexed in the folds of her dress.

“It is a shock,” she finally admitted. Her voice had pitched higher than her usual tone, but she remained her cold, composed self. “Though it doesn’t change my desire to leave this place and be rid of my father’s clutches. I still want to go, no matter if mythical witches and gods are hunting you.”

Some of the tension in Saoirse’s shoulders dissolved. For a moment, she’d thought Sloane might decide they were all mad and think better of their alliance. Yet again, the Terradrin princess was proving to be made of sterner stuff. She was not easily frightened or deterred, and for that, Sloane was owed credit.

“So you need to access the Garden of Gods, then?”

Saoirse nodded. “We cannot leave without the Moonstone Shard.”

“The Garden of Gods is on the opposite side of the Under Kingdom. It will not be easy for us to access it from the Mines of Norae.” Sloane pursed her lips and raked a hand through her hair. She began to pace down the walkway, brows furrowed as she mentally calculated. “Perhaps I can convince my father to change the location of the third trial. It would simplify everything if we could escape through the Garden of Gods rather than through the mines.”

“Do you think Grivur can be swayed?”

Sloane grimaced. “There is a chance he’ll listen to me. Especially if we can up the antics and propose a more entertaining trial. He’s easily tantalized by bloodshed. If I can convince him that a trial within the Garden of Gods will be more difficult for you, then he’ll consider a change in the plan.”

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