Chapter 17
17
SAOIRSE
F ree of the ropes and bobbing safely alongside the ship, they picked up their oars and began rowing through the darkness. After a few minutes, Saoirse’s arms burned with the effort. Keeping their boat on course was no small task as the restless tide pushed and pulled against them like a swinging pendulum. The eastern coast lived up to its reputation as their small rowboat lurched from side to side, narrowly missing pillars of jagged rock that jutted out from the gloomy waves.
“Steady,” Neia warned as their boat crested a particularly sharp wave. Saoirse’s stomach clenched as they dipped weightlessly into the water, her hands tightening around the oars as a spray of seawater sloshed into their boat.
The dim torchlight on the shore grew brighter as they picked their way through the labyrinth of sea stacks. Sweat slicked Saoirse’s palms as she continued rowing, her eyes combing over the choppy waves for any hidden pillars of rock that might impale their hull before they even knew it was there.
Her pulse quickened when they clipped another finger of stone. For a moment, she thought their vessel might be overturned as it lurched sideways, but by some miracle, it remained afloat. Hasana clung to the wooden bench with a white-knuckled grasp, Tezrus braced similarly beside her as they grazed another ridge of hidden rock.
Gradually, the distant coastal cliffs became more defined in the darkness. Sea caves of varying sizes ate away at the cliffs’ bedrock, forming arched holes in the stone that reminded Saoirse of rotting wood. They aimed for the jagged opening glowing with torchlight, at last free of the murky maze.
“We need to hurry,” Neia ordered when their boat passed under the archways. The sea cave’s walls shone with glowing moss and slick algae. “This cave will be flooded with the tide soon.”
They drifted down the small corridor of eroded rock, following the light emanating from a small embankment. Three hooded figures materialized in the faint torchlight, their identities hidden under scarves pulled up to their eyes. Two of the figures waded into the shallow water and began hauling their rowboat up the rocky embankment.
“Glad you made it,” huffed one of the masked rebels once they’d dragged the boat to safety. His voice was a warm baritone that echoed pleasantly through the chamber. He pulled down his scarf to reveal a moon-pale complexion and angular features. A lock of bone-white hair settled over one of his milky eyes.
Neia clapped the man on the shoulder, a grin cutting across her stern face. “It’s good to see you, Ezra. Thank you for being here.” She turned back toward their small party and explained, “Ezra was one of my captains. From the moment he joined my company, he always had a knack for disobeying my orders. I knew he’d serve the rebellion well, given his incapacity to follow the rules and shirk his duties to the empire.”
“It’s good to see you too, Commander,” Ezra laughed. He turned toward the rest of their party, eyes glinting in the torchlight. “And look who else is here: pretty boy himself!” He slapped Rymir on the back so hard the sound echoed through the small chamber.
“And you must be Hasana,” Ezra said, bowing to the Tellusun princess. “It is an honor to finally meet you.”
“There’s no need for that,” she admonished gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. I know how much you’ve risked to aid us. Thank you. All of you.” She looked expectantly at the other two volunteers.
“Introductions are in order,” Ezra announced. He turned to his two companions and started with the one who had helped pull their boat ashore. “This is my brother, Xander.”
Xander pulled his mask down to his chin, uncovering a jaw that was softer than his brother’s. A pale scar threaded through one pale eyebrow and cut across his cheek. A leather eye patch was secured over his left eye.
Ezra turned to the one who stood on the embankment holding torches. “That’s Larken, our stone-singer.” The small woman caught herself before bowing to Hasana, settling instead on a respectful nod.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Saoirse said, coming to stand next to Hasana and Neia. Her boots crunched loudly against the grainy sediment. For a moment, the three Terradrin rebels stared blankly at Saoirse.
“You’re Mer,” Ezra observed, eyes skimming over her shimmering scales. His tone was thick with disbelief, as though she was some mythological creature that had come to life. The idea of a Mer joining their cause was just as unlikely, apparently.
“Not just any Mer,” Neia amended. “Princess Saoirse Kellamheart of Elorshin, Daughter of the Sea.” Ezra balked at Saoirse, his mouth going slack. Behind him, the two other Terradrin rebels appeared equally astounded.
“How is this possible?”
“It’s a long story. I met Hasana and Neia during the Tournament. I agree with their cause and want to see our world reborn. A world in which we are all equals and there is no Tournament pitting us against each other.” Saoirse left out the part about where she was the one who freed Selussa and, consequently, the reason why they were here to steal the Relic from the Under Kingdom in the first place.
Ezra considered her for a long moment. Wavering torchlight danced along the sharp planes of his face, catching on the downturned corners of his mouth. “You trust her, Commander?”
“I do,” Neia promised. “She’s proven her loyalty time and time again. She’s risked her life multiple times for our cause.”
At his former commander’s assurance, Ezra finally nodded, the hard line of his mouth softening. “All right then. If the great Neia Landum trusts you, then so will I.” Ezra cocked his head curiously when his pearlescent eyes landed on Tezrus. “And who is this?”
“Tezrus,” came the old man’s reedy voice in reply. Recognition flared in Rymir’s eyes.
“Tezrus the Scholar?”
“The very same.”
“You are legendary.” Ezra’s brother, Xander, sidled up to the old man. “The story of your escape from the Order of Elders was told for years. As much as the Order wanted to quell the rumors and make everyone forget what happened, your name has continued to endure these last twenty years. We all thought you had died long ago.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m still very much alive. And I’ve finally returned home.”
“You’ve been busy,” Ezra remarked, cocking a white eyebrow at Neia and Rymir. “You’ve somehow managed to recruit a Mer princess and a legendary scholar who was supposedly killed two decades ago to our ranks.”
“Wait until you see the sea dragon,” Rymir quipped.
“Sea dragon ? I don’t even want to know how you managed to do that.”
“We’ll tell you about it on the way to the palace,” Neia cut in. “We need to get moving. Reunion time is over.”
“Charming as ever, no?” Rymir feigned a whisper to Ezra, winking at Neia. If it had been anyone else, Neia would have bitten off their head for insolence. But she merely rolled her eyes as Rymir chortled.
Ezra and two companions led them to the far side of the cave. The torchlight oscillated along the rough-hewn walls, catching on stalactites that glittered with minerals. A tunnel gouged into the right wall, the jagged cavity opening like the jaw of a beast waiting to consume them.
The female stone-singer, Larken, made it to the tunnel’s opening first. She surveyed the claggy aperture, running her hands along it as though communicating with the stone in some voiceless language. A crinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “No one has discovered our tracks yet. I’ll seal up the tunnel as we move forward. No one will find your boat nor the cave’s entrance after we’ve gone.”
Seal up the stone? Saoirse’s heart dropped to her stomach and a spear of fear lanced through her body. They would well and truly be consumed by the earth then. They’d be entombed in the Under Kingdom, trapped behind walls of solid rock. She exchanged a look with Hasana, who appeared equally disturbed by the prospect.
“How are we to escape once the Relic has been stolen, then?” Hasana asked.
“The same way I created this tunnel in the first place. Once you have the Relic, I’ll reform the tunnel. I’ll seal it up behind you so you can escape without a trace.”
“You’ll have me too, remember?” Tezrus placed a gnarled hand on Hasana’s shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I haven’t used my stone-singing abilities quite to the extent as Larken has, but if it comes down to it, I can get us out of here too.”
The old man’s assurances only minimally comforted Saoirse as they descended into the damp tunnel. True to her word, Larken collapsed the corridor as they moved along, bending the rock to her will with the touch of her hands. The sounds of the ocean surf gradually faded away, replaced by an eerie, numbing silence. The tight channel of stone smelled of earth and mold, chased by the metallic tang of mineral-laden pools of tepid water.
Saoirse’s heart pounded as they crept through the darkness, her chest tightening with each inhale of damp air. The tunnel reminded her of the caverns under the arena infested with Avgi spiders, the ones she’d barely made it out of alive during the second trial. Her feet throbbed at the memory, tingling as though they could still recall the acid that sprayed from the spiders’ mouths. Saoirse couldn’t help but notice the shadows creeping along the walls looked like spindly spider legs. Sweat beaded along her brow as she fought against the unwelcome memories. She desperately wished Aurelia was at her side now.
“I must warn you, King Grivur’s madness has escalated these last few weeks,” came Ezra’s voice up ahead, scattering Saoirse’s morbid thoughts of spiders. “He’s always been unstable and volatile, but ever since the Tournament, paranoia has sunk its claws deeper into him. Queen Raven has been gathering her forces on the border of Aurandel and Terradrin, but Grivur has locked himself away in his palace, throwing lavish parties and indulging in every manner of debauchery. In the wake of the explosion in Coarinth, he’s executed some of his closest advisors and locked up even the most loyal in his court. To him, anyone is a spy.”
“The Under Kingdom has been locked down, too,” Xander added. “Strict curfews, underguards flanking every corner, neighbors turning each other in for conspiracy against the king?you name it. Grivur has not let anyone in or out of the palace since he returned from Aurandel. Paired with the uprising in Meysam, the events of the Tournament have truly shaken him. After he lost control of Terradrin’s most invaluable trading city, his possessiveness over the Under Kingdom reached a fever pitch. He’s even been ignoring Raven’s call to arms.”
Saoirse remembered seeing King Grivur in Raven’s tent after the first trial. When she’d informed the rulers of Revelore that the trade city of Meysam had fallen to the rebellion, Grivur had vehemently denied any knowledge of the uprising. He’d been affronted Raven would even insinuate he’d been involved. It was well known Grivur had long complied with Aurandel’s strict occupation of the trade city. He was quick to obey Raven’s bidding as a rat was drawn to discarded crusts on the ground. Grivur had always been biddable and compliant, but not out of any love for his people. He’d been well compensated for his loyalty, his court brimming with opulence. Grivur shelled out pieces of his country like prize horses and kissed the very ground Raven walked on, all so he could maintain his lavish lifestyle and keep his pseudo crown. If Grivur was holed up in his palace ignoring Raven’s summons, his madness must be quite severe indeed.
“That does not bode well for Aurandel’s forces,” Neia remarked. “Without Terradrin’s support, we may stand a chance.”
“Or perhaps Grivur’s refusal to aid Raven will evoke her wrath,” Hasana mused. “Maybe Raven will turn her forces on Terradrin, and they’ll tear each other apart before we even need to step foot on a battlefield. If we’re lucky, Grivur’s continued insolence will cause an implosion.”
Trepidation knotted in Saoirse’s stomach as they wound through the tunnel system. Even if a rift grew between Aurandel and Terradrin, their heist was no less perilous. Although they had a stone-singer to create new unmapped tunnels for them to escape through, it would be exceedingly difficult to sneak into the palace under such strict conditions.
“In a moment, we’re going to douse the torchlight,” warned Ezra from up ahead. “This tunnel is about to skirt one of the first chambers of the Under Kingdom, a quarter of the city known as the Market District. There are a few cracks in the stone and we don’t want to risk discovery.”
“Can’t Larken just sing to the stone and block out any fractures in the wall?” Hasana asked.
“We’re too close to the city now. Any changes in the terrain will give us away. We’ll have to proceed without torchlight, I’m afraid.”
Unease coiled in Saoirse’s chest. Her hand closed over the hilt of her sword involuntarily. The soft torchlight went out without warning, plunging them into sudden darkness. Her adjusting eyes gradually took in the pinpricks of light that seeped into the tunnel. The wall was peppered with small cavities that reminded Saoirse of honeycomb. She peered out one of the holes, astounded by the beauty that met her eyes from the other side.
Far below them, the Under Kingdom fanned out in a dense network of streets and tightly packed homes, the city carved into the cave floor as organically as the sea caves on the coast. The impressive expanse of stone buildings unspooled for as far as the eye could see, illuminated by bioluminescent moss that glowed on the cavernous ceiling. Tiered homes were carved into colossal stalagmites and spiraling staircases latticed over the city, connecting various turrets that grew from the earth. Clusters of bright crystals bloomed like flowers out of crevices in the stone, some standing as tall as trees. From this distance, the lights twinkling from hundreds of open windows looked like a star-studded sky.
Her eyes traced over the dark cityscape, taking in the flowing river that wound through the center of the city like a shining mirror. Its silver waters glowed, reflecting the lights of the houses and shimmering with luminous algae that clung to submerged rocks. Tiny boats drifted along its glass-like surface. Below the city streets, Saoirse knew there were even more hidden chambers and tunnel systems that lashed deep into the earth, splintering off into more unseen quarters of the city. At the lowest depths of the Under Kingdom, extensive mining operations cleaved even deeper into the earth, harvesting rare geological materials found nowhere else in Revelore. It was overwhelming and breathtaking all at once. One could explore the Under Kingdom for years and still not come close to uncovering all of its secrets.
“It’s just as I remember it,” Tezrus breathed from somewhere on Saoirse’s right. “How I wish?”
Blinding pain suddenly erupted through Saoirse’s body. Before she could double over, unseen hands wrapped around her arms and fingernails bit into her skin. Cold metal was fitted over her wrists before she even had time to process what was happening. A gag was shoved into her mouth before she could yell for help.
“What is the meaning of thi?” Neia’s voice cut off, presumably because another filthy rag had been stuffed into her mouth.
The torchlight flickered back to life and brightened the tunnel once more. Realization dawned on Saoirse in appalling pieces: They were surrounded by a swarm of guards. Every member of their group was shackled in chains just like Saoirse, wadded gags rammed into their mouths. All…except for Rymir, Ezra, Larken, and Xander, who were standing among the crowd of armed soldiers unbound.
They’d been betrayed.
Understanding struck through Saoirse’s heart like a blade, chased by a rising sense of panic.
“You are hereby under arrest by decree of King Grivur Cragmane, the fifth of his name and Lord of All Things Below. You are charged with conspiracy against the crown.”
Neia’s eyes blazed with fury, her knife-like gaze tearing into Rymir, who stared absently at his boots. Disbelief, confusion, and the bright pain of betrayal churned in the depths of her eyes.
How could you , that look said.
Saoirse struggled to comprehend the horrific turn of events unfolding around her. Rymir had betrayed them? None of it made any sense. Then Saoirse’s world went dark as a black hood was shoved over her head.