Page 72 of From the Myths of Kings

“Your guard?what was her name again? Oh yes, Noora Mir. With all her knowledge of the rebellion’s secrets, the archer will be of great use to Queen Raven. They’re already bound for Aurandel’s dungeons as we speak. Commander Barrow himself is overseeing the transportation of the prisoners to Coarinth.”

The heartless bastard.

It was one thing for Rymir to go after the nobility of Revelore in the supposed tradition of his father’s rebellion. It was entirely different to betray the rebels born of common blood. How could he oversee the imprisonment of people he once called friends?

“No,” Hasana gasped. “Let them go. Please.”

“It’s far, far too late for that, Daughter of the Desert. I’ll make her and everyone who ever devoted themselves to your cause wish they’d never promised themselves to your futile rebellion. You should’ve thought about that before you sold their souls for your cause.”

Sobs wrenched from Hasana’s mouth as the reality of their capture sank in. Rook suddenly felt nauseous, imagining Noora and Adresin and the rest of the rebel crew behind bars deep within Aurandel’s mountain dungeons.

“Take me instead!” Hasana screamed through sobs. She clawed uselessly at the manacles on her wrists. “I’m the one Raven wants. Spare my crew from her dungeons and torture. She’ll offer wealth beyond your wildest imaginings in exchange for my capture.”

Grivur chuckled a malignant sound that sent a chill up Rook’s spine. “Perhaps I’ll send you with the Auran princeling to the Iron Queen if you both survive the Garden of Gods. But I highly doubt all four of you will make it out alive.” He grinned, the sodding bastard. Grivur took great pleasure in knowing he had no intention of letting them walk free. He gave off the same glee as a mischievous child who knew a secret no one else did.

Rook would’ve rolled his eyes at the mad king, but he was more terrified of what his sister would do to Noora and Adresin. They’d be tortured within an inch of their lives if they didn’t give up the rebellion’s secrets quickly. His stomach dropped to his feet as he thought about the grim dungeons that spiraled deep into the roots of Mt Thalia. Even when he’d been a staunch supporter of the Auran regime, he’d always dreaded those dark chambers. On the rare occasions when Raven requested his assistance with interrogations, he’d vomited the moment he left the dungeons. He’d almost wished Adresin and Noora had been killed instead of becoming prisoners of his cruel sister.

“I’ve heard enough flimsy protests from the mouths of traitors. Let us begin the final trial.” Grivur’s voice pitched into a cheerful tone as if he hadn’t just sentenced a hundred souls to death in Aurandel’s dungeons. His sudden shifts in tone were disturbing. One minute, his spittle-crusted mouth was ranting and raving, and in the next, he was as mirthful as a child on their nameday.

Rook’s eyes shifted to Saoirse’s. She gave a covert nod, confirming they must continue with the plan. Grivur was trying to rattle them with the news of Adresin and Noora’s capture, throwing Rymir’s betrayal back in their faces as a distraction. As harrowing as it was, they had to proceed with their escape. Rook’s mind felt singed around the edges, curling in on itself.

He needed to focus. None of them could afford to lose their wits now, not when they were this close. Rook spared a glance at Sloane. She looked just as shocked by the news of Noora and Adresin’s capture as they were, her pale fingers wringing together anxiously. She worried one corner of her painted lips. Was she having second thoughts about helping them escape?

Rook didn’t have time to guess at Sloane’s intentions. His chains were abruptly unlocked, and he was shoved toward the garden gates, an obsidian spear pressed against his spine. He looked over his shoulder as an underguard continued pushing him toward the archway. The others were unceremoniously freed from their shackles and forced to follow him. With guards flanking every side, he was reminded of a procession of prisoners being led to their execution. It wasn’t far from the truth; this trial was Grivur’s twisted version of capital punishment.

The Garden of Gods leered in the darkness, fragments of crystal and glass gleaming eerily in the waning torchlight like shining teeth in the shadows. A palpable sense of dread washed over Rook as he shuffled closer to the archway. The wards draped over the entrance were not visible to the naked eye, but he could feel the magic humming with a faint vibration. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, the sensation akin to the feeling of being watched. His eyes skimmed over the rune-like words carved into the stone and he vaguely wondered what they said.

With a final shove, Rook found himself passing under the archway, his body subconsciously recoiling as the invisible wards whispered over his head. It felt like slipping into an ancient tomb, the air stale and suffused with the sickly sweetness of rotting graveside flowers. And suddenly, he was on the other side of the garden gates.

He looked around slowly, that unsettling feeling rising like a tide in his chest as he surveyed the cave. It was silent as the dead, reinforcing the crypt-like atmosphere. True to its name, a garden of multi-colored crystals bloomed through the cavern. Panels of sparkling crystal dragged across the stone cavern like the claw marks of a mythical beast. Mingling with the stalactites that dripped down from the ceiling, shards of diamond hung like petrified tree branches overhead. Clots of sharp gemstones grew up from the ground, gleaming like polished ice sculptures. The cave was undoubtedly beautiful, but there was something lethal in its cold allure, like thorns crawling up the stem of a rose.

Rook turned to face the garden gates, watching his companions approach from the other side. Hasana was next in the procession, her golden eyes blazing as she glared at the archway with contempt. Wavering torchlight caught on the streaks of tears flowing down her cheeks, but her trembling mouth was set in a hard, determined line. She passed under the threshold with her head held high. She shivered under the faint magnetic pull of the wards.

When she finally joined him on the other side of the arched entrance, Hasana wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her tunic. She hadn’t wanted Grivur to see her drying her eyes.

“Hasana, I’m so sorry?”

He was cut off by a razor-edged sound that resembled shattering glass. He instinctively reached for Hasana’s hand as the world exploded into fractals of shining light.

A wall of dagger-sharp crystals erupted from the floor, nearly impaling them both. Hasana yanked Rook backward as the crystalline wave surged forward. He stumbled as the shards of ice-like crystals lurched toward them, his feet only a hairs-length away from being lanced clean through. He felt stiff and cold, as though his limbs had been seized by frost.

“Run!” Hasana cried as the gleaming mosaic splintered up through the floor.

Rook dragged himself from the haze of shock, forcing his legs to move. The sentient crystals forced them deeper into the cave, recomposing the entire chamber at their heels. They clambered over the uneven terrain, narrowly avoiding several jarring crevices in the floor. He spared a glance over his shoulder, watching in horror as the multi-colored gemstones rearranged themselves and shifted into new positions, forming walls of polished crystals that hadn’t been there before. Gone was the view of the garden gates, blotted out by a solid barricade of diamond. He whipped his head back around, trying not to fall as they dove under low-hanging stalactites and leaped over glass-like crystal formations.

Rook was so disoriented he couldn’t tell which direction they were headed. All he knew was that he had to run. He wanted to scream as the piercing sound of shattering glass echoed in his ears, so agonizingly sharp it felt like nails digging into his skull. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to collapse and cover his ears.

Abruptly, the cave stilled. The wall of jagged crystal stopped mid-movement, frozen into place like skeletal branches under a veil of snow. Rook stopped running, his heart thundering wildly in his chest as he eyed the violent wave of petrified crystals that curled over them. Hasana was gasping next to him, bracing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

The garden had forced them into an offshoot made entirely of cloudy, citrine quartz. The walls were composed of geometric ridges, forming a crystal lattice that entombed them on all sides. All semblance of sticking to the plan scattered like songs in the wind.

Cross the chamber of agate. Make two left turns through the amethyst tunnels. At the first fork in the tunnels, take the right path and meet Sloane and Tezrus at the wall of quartz.

Where the Hel were they now? There was no telling how far off the path they’d run. And they were completely separated from Saoirse and Neia, who had likely been forced in the opposite direction as soon as they’d entered through the garden gates.

“Titans,” Rook cursed. “How are we going to find them? Do you think Sloane and Tezrus managed to get through the gates?”

Hasana straightened and pushed away strands of sweaty hair from her eyes. There was a slight tremor in her hands. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “It seems Grivur neglected to tell our Tournament Ambassador of the garden’s penchant for killing its guests upon entry.”

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