Chapter 33
33
SAOIRSE
S aoirse tore through the tunnels searching for Rook, Hasana, and Neia. Every looming shadow appeared menacing as she ran through the Garden of Gods, sharpened like blades in every corner. She braced herself for another confrontation with Selussa, but it never came. Instead, the interconnected caves were deathly silent and eerily still. No threads of shadow lashed out at her. No peels of wicked laughter chased her through the winding passageways.
Tezrus had done his job well, it seemed.
She had no idea which direction she was running, only that she followed the inclined paths upward. All she knew was that Tezrus found a vein of Bloodstone running through one of the upper chambers of the Garden of Gods. She had to find it. She clutched the vial of blood even tighter, sweat slicking her palms.
She rounded the corner and stopped to catch her breath. Her chest was burning. As she swallowed lungfuls of air, a horrifying realization dawned. She hadn’t drunk any titansblood in over two hours. She had no extra stores on her and she wouldn’t be returning to that cold cell to replenish her latest dose. Even if she managed to escape the Under Kingdom and create a Blood Gate into the Underworld, she only had a few hours left until she could no longer breathe the surface air. Dread coiled in her stomach as reality hit her.
She would suffocate if there was no water in the Underworld.
Even thinking about the mythical realm sent a chill up her spine. Of all the Myths of Old, the Underworld was probably the most mysterious facet of ancient lore. She knew virtually nothing about the shadowy plane of existence. It was said to have been abandoned by the Titans when they crawled up to the surface and created Revelore at the dawn of time. Whispers of the Underworld being the realm of the dead persisted, but it sounded like a physical reality just like the Under Kingdom or the Shujaa Desert. Was it a spectral plane of the afterlife, or a forsaken land just like the Northern Wastes, the ruins of a destroyed ancient kingdom? Or was it simply an all-consuming void where a soul could be suspended in unending darkness for all eternity?
Saoirse wiped the sweat and blood from her brow. She would find out soon enough.
Distantly, she heard a voice calling her name. It was so far away that it was only a faint echo down the tunnel. Was it Selussa posing as someone she trusted?
“Saoirse!” The voice grew louder in the tunnel and her heart skipped a beat.
Rook .
Her heart thundered in her chest as she heard his familiar timbre. Had Selussa somehow found him before she had? Her nails bit into her palms as she resisted the urge to cry out. She needed to know it was really him before she exposed her location.
“Saoirse!” another voice called. Hasana .
It couldn’t be Selussa, then. She couldn’t pose as two people at once, and she knew Rook and Hasana wouldn’t have left each other’s sides while they searched for her through the Garden of Gods.
“Over here!” Saoirse cried out, stepping around the corner.
She almost melted with relief as Rook and Hasana sprinted over to her, appearing relatively unharmed. To her pleasant surprise, Neia was also with them. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she had last seen all three of them shackled outside the Garden of the Gods. Rook’s relieved face quickly twisted into horror as he took in her torn clothing and blood-stained limbs.
“Hel’s teeth, Saoirse!” He closed the distance between them, a surveying gaze flitting over every inch of her. He gently touched the tender skin of her throat, finding the mottled bruising left behind by Selussa’s shadows. His jaw clenched. “What happened?”
“Thank the stars you’re alive,” Hasana breathed. Her palms were already glowing with golden light, veins shimmering under her brown skin. Her eyes beamed with molten gold as she placed her hands upon the gash sliced across Saoirse’s chest.
“What happened, Saoirse?” Neia asked. “When you fell through that hole in the ground, I thought we’d never see you again. Rook almost killed me when I found them without you.”
“I don’t know,” Saoirse answered, closing her eyes underneath the warmth of Hasana’s healing magic. She could feel the torn flesh mending back together, being pulled taut by golden threads of light deep within the sinew. “I fell through the cave floor and landed in a lower chamber several feet below.”
She felt Hasana’s gentle hands settle across her neck. Hasana sent pulses of magic into her bruised throat, bringing instant relief to her aching flesh. Slowly, the tension gradually left her shoulders, and her fatigued mind began to clear. Some of the physical pain had dulled the emotional whiplash of the last hour, and a surge of sorrow pooled in her stomach at the thought of Tezrus’s sacrifice.
“Who did this to you?” Rook asked furiously.
Saoirse’s mouth went dry as she thought about Selussa’s ink-black eyes and serrated teeth mere inches from her face. She almost couldn’t bring herself to vocalize the dreadful truth of it all. The truth knotted her tongue, refusing to come out.
She felt Rook’s hand slide along her upper arm, gently massaging her aching muscles. She could’ve cried at his comforting touch, but she had already spent all of her tears. She took a deep breath, wincing at the fire that burned on the edges of her lungs. She opened her eyes and found Hasana examining her expression, a wrinkle of concern between her dark brows.
She quickly identified the cause of Saoirse’s discomfort and asserted, “Your last dose of titansblood is almost out.”
“Selussa has the third Relic.” The truth tumbled off her tongue like a bitter curse. “She has played us all for fools.”
She proceeded to tell them about how Selussa had devised her masterful plan to steal the Moonstone Shard right out from under their noses. She described how the Sea Witch had bargained with Sloane and shape-shifted into the Terradrin princess just before their arrival. How she’d developed the trials with Grivur in the hopes they would locate the Relic for her. With each new revelation, they all grew visibly appalled.
When she finally caught them up to the present, a hitch of emotion caught in her voice as she said, “Tezrus sacrificed himself to save me. To save all of us.”
Hasana raised a hand to her lips, her eyes flooding with tears at the news of his death.
Neia’s eyes darkened. “How could this have happened? First Rymir, and then this?”
“I know,” Saoirse whispered weakly. “Nothing has gone the way we planned.”
She thought of how Tezrus’s hands went limp between her own and she felt a sharp pain spear through her chest. When the war council convened in Bezhad, they’d all been so full of hope and confidence. But little by little, their painstaking plans had unraveled until only mere threads were left. Their organized rebellion had dissolved overnight, half of them chained in the bowels of a ship bound for the dungeons of Aurandel and the rest scattered throughout the Isles of Mythos for the relief efforts. More than ever, Saoirse longed to see Aurelia again. A crack had formed in her heart on the day she left Aurelia standing on that dock in the harbor. Now, the crack had grown into a gaping hole. How many threads would snap between them?
“We cannot change the past,” Hasana interjected. The rebel leader in her flared to life as she began strategizing their next move. “What’s done is done. What we do next is what matters. Grivur’s guards are likely combing through these tunnels as we speak. Once his beloved daughter chased after us through the gates with Tezus, he wouldn’t have wasted any time sending them after her. What should we do?”
Saoirse held out the obsidian vial. “We use this. Tezrus believed we could open a Blood Gate and escape the Under Kingdom once and for all.”
Hasana took the flask and turned it over in her palms, glowing magic pooling in her hands as she examined the vial with her healing magic. “This is filled with blood. But not just any blood. This doesn’t feel entirely mortal.”
Saoirse nodded. “It’s filled with Selussa’s blood. Part of it, anyway. When I made the bargain with her, we exchanged vials of blood as a testament to our agreement. I kept it all this time. According to ancient stone-singer legend, a Blood Gate can be created with the blood of a dying innocent and the blood of a god. Tezrus gave his own blood so we could free ourselves.”
“Where does a Blood Gate lead?” Rook asked.
Saoirse ran a hand through her sweat-matted hair, already dreading what came next. Pursing her lips, she answered sheepishly, “The Underworld.”
Her companions gaped at her. Even to her own ears, it sounded mad.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but I think Tezrus is right. He had a theory that Selussa was banished to the Underworld through the creation of a Blood Gate during the first war with the Titans. We don’t have time to go into the details now, but I believe his theory. Besides, we don’t have any other choice at this point. We lose nothing by trying.”
For a long moment, none of them said anything. Rook’s grasp on her shoulder tightened and his azure eyes grew resolute. “If you believe him, so do I. We will trust you.”
“We’re out of options,” Hasana agreed. “If Tezrus believed in this Blood Gate, then we must at least try. I think I saw a vein of Bloodstone not far from here. Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Saoirse said softly. “My mother. I cannot abandon her here. I promised to free her. If we leave now, we may never come back to the Under Kingdom. And we need her secrets. She is the only one alive who read the secret letters of Queen Cira. She’s the only one who knows the whole truth about what happened during the first war of the Titans, and potentially the only one who knows how to truly defeat them. The Myths of Old are a lie. She is our only source of truth.”
“You three go,” Neia ordered decisively. “I’ll find your mother. I know these tunnels better than anyone. I’ll free her.”
“ No . You’ll be killed,” Hasana interrupted. “None of us are splitting up again.”
“Hasana is right, the underguards are already swarming these tunnels. If you look for Eleyera’s cell, you’ll be caught. There isn’t any time to free her and join back up with us at the Bloodstone.”
“I’m not going with you,” Neia replied soundly. “I’m going to release her from imprisonment and free her from the Under Kingdom. I’ll sneak her out while you descend into the Underworld.”
Saoirse was stunned. “Neia, no . You cannot take such a risk. The underguards will find you.”
“No, they won’t. Like I said, I know these tunnels better than anyone. I’ve patrolled every inch of the Under Kingdom. I could navigate it blindfolded. I didn’t know your mother was imprisoned in the flooded tunnels, but I can find her easily enough using your descriptions. And most importantly, they won’t be looking for me alone. They’ll be scouring the Garden of Gods for hours. They won’t consider that I escaped on my own. They’ll think I mysteriously vanished with the three of you.”
“Neia. I can’t ask you to do this. You could be killed.”
Neia’s eyes grew pleading. She clutched Saoirse’s hands and squeezed adamantly. “I need to make it up to you, Saoirse. I need to make it up to all those innocents killed during Grivur’s inquisition. Freeing your mother is the least I can to atone for all my mistakes. If I cannot bring back all those souls I took, at least I can bring Eleyera back to the land of the living. I promise I’ll get her out safely. She’ll feel the sun on her face again if it’s the last thing I do. And I need to stop Rymir. He’s taking our crew to Coarinth as we speak, and he doesn’t know the truth about his father. I need to stop him before he continues his crusade.”
Ever since Rymir’s betrayal, Neia’s eyes hadn’t possessed the same ferocity she was known for. Now, a spark of her old intensity returned, gleaming in her pale eyes like a new star in the cosmos. She needed to fulfill this task just as much as Eleyera needed to be freed, Saoirse realized. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Thank you,” Saoirse whispered. “This means more to me than you know.” She once thought the Terradrin Commander was cold and unfeeling, but she now recognized Neia’s beating heart for justice. At some point in their brief acquaintance, Neia Landum had become a friend. Someone who’d risk their life for a stranger.
Saoirse wrapped her arms tightly around the woman. “Thank you.” Neia stiffened for a moment, but then she returned the embrace, adding an extra affectionate squeeze against her shoulder blades.
Neia let her go and turned toward another tunnel that slithered off into the darkness. “I wish you luck in the Underworld. Do not linger there. Use the Blood Gate only as a means of escape and return to the earth as quickly as you can.”
Hasana grabbed Neia’s wrist before she could dart off down the shadowed passage. “If we can, we should all try and regroup at Raj’s Point as we originally planned. I know it is an improbable, foolish hope that we all survive this and pick up where we left off, but we must at least try. For Noora and Adresin. For Tezrus. For all the lives we must save in the coming war.”
The odds of success were near impossible, but then again, their mission had always balanced on the edge of a blade. As always, Hasana’s unshakable faith was infectious. Saoirse couldn’t help but believe her.
The four of them stared at each other, the gravity of their task feeling exorbitantly heavy in the air. The fact that they could all stand here together, united by the same cause, was an accomplishment in and of itself. Their unlikely alliance proved that strangers could remake the world together. Once, they’d each been bitter rivals and faceless adversaries to conquer. Even just a month ago, Saoirse couldn’t have imagined she’d be fighting to save the world with people hailing from each corner of Revelore. Now, they stood together like some reincarnated version of the Four Kinsmen.
“I’ll meet you at Raj’s Point. May glory be given.” With one last glance over her shoulder, Neia disappeared into the darkness, her bright white hair consumed by shadow.
The three of them located a vein of Bloodstone that threaded through the rock like a trail of hardened lava. The crimson-colored crystals seemed to pulse with life. Just as Tezrus had described, the tract of Bloodstone appeared like a gash in the stone chamber, as though a claw had raked through the side of the wall and left a valley of exposed sinew.
Saoirse’s heartbeat hammered in her throat as she clutched the burning vial in one hand. Even the air felt different in this chamber. Where the rest of the Garden of Gods felt cold and lifeless, the Bloodstone seemed to give off a faint thrumming of heat. Unlike the pristine, fragile crystals that bloomed throughout the other caves like icicles, the crystalline crust of Bloodstone seemed to be melting from one side, as though a glass case had been molded over fire.
She felt Rook’s fingers thread with her other hand, a solid, steadying presence. She took in the bright sapphire of his eyes, a color that had come to mean so much to her. Countless unspoken words swirled in the depths of his eyes, but for the first time in a long time, he was completely open to her. There was no veil of secrecy hanging between them, no guarded wall of pain. They were only at the threshold of building back trust, but his promise to heal alongside her was enough for now. She could sense the change in them both. They’d hurt each other and left scars that ran deep. Forgiveness was a long road that could not be traversed in one night. There were undoubtedly more scars to come, more wounds to endure. But they would weather them together.
Saoirse tore her gaze away from Rook and focused on the vein of Bloodstone. She held out the obsidian vial over the glittering red gems. Selussa’s voice echoed in her head: Now I have a piece of you, and you have a piece of me. We are bound together now.
She uncorked the vial and stared at the shimmering liquid within. Distinct ribbons of ink-like blood swirled around swaths of crimson, refusing to mix like oil and water.
The blood of a dying innocent and the blood of a god.
The vial grew even warmer in her hands, humming with unsettling power as it hovered over the Bloodstone. She looked toward Hasana, a sudden lash of fear curling against her spine. Would it really work? The Tellusun princess nodded encouragingly, her gold-rimmed eyes full of hope.
The fine hairs on Saoirse’s arms raised as she tilted the vial. The liquid poured out in a long, unbroken stream, shimmering faintly. It splashed garishly against the crystals. Almost instantly, tendrils of smoke curled up from where the concoction of blood seeped over the geometrical lattice of crystal.
Saoirse was careful not to pour all the blood out at once, turning the vial right side up and corking the rest. They still needed enough to escape back into the mortal realm. She pocketed the half-drained vial and stepped back as a sulfuric scent filled the small chamber, smoke billowing forth on a phantom breeze. Her heart stuttered when she heard distant footfalls echoing down a nearby tunnel.
“What is that smoke?” a gruff voice asked. The footsteps grew louder as the throng of underguards followed the trail of smoke.
“ Hel’s teeth ,” Rook cursed. “Where is the Blood Gate?”
A cracking sound reverberated through the chamber in answer, sending tiny tremors rippling through the stone floor. Spiderwebbing cracks appeared throughout the vein of Bloodstone as the walls shuddered. Saoirse grabbed Hasana and Rook’s hands instinctively, linking them together as the cave groaned.
Beyond, the underguards began cursing and shouting, the tread of their footsteps hastening as the Garden of Gods quaked.
The Bloodstone shattered like glass, fragments of stained crystal imploding inward. The thin layer of Bloodstone was gone, framed by smoking tendrils that burned Saoirse’s throat. The surrounding wall of stone had blackened like soot against a hearthstone, replaced by an expanse of shining volcanic rock.
A dark void ripped open before them. Wind suddenly tore through Saoirse’s hair, pulling her toward the gaping cavity. She tightened her hold on Hasana and Rook, a primal terror streaking through every fiber of her body as she peered into the abyss. With the burning vial and the undulating smoke, she’d expected to feel the heat emanating from the Blood Gate. Instead, a cold dread kissed her cheeks like stinging frost.
“Now!” Rook roared over the wind. “We have to go now!” Fear seized Saoirse’s heart, but she felt her body lunging toward the Blood Gate. The three of them passed through the threshold and sank into the darkness.
Numbing silence filled Saoirse’s ears.
They were falling.
Saoirse’s eyes might’ve been open or closed. The darkness was so eternal she couldn’t tell. She looked upward, seeing the Blood Gate grow smaller and smaller until the stone knit itself together, sealing up the tear between realms until they were completely separated from the mortal world. Saoirse gritted her teeth as her stomach hollowed out.
As the void consumed her, Selussa’s last promise echoed through her throbbing skull like a death knell: The worst is yet to come. I will bring forth nightmares from the myths of kings.
Saoirse felt the warmth of her friend’s hands, anchoring her through the all-consuming void. Where they would end up, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this was not the end.
The storm was only just beginning, bolts of lightning crackling along the horizon in warning. Speckles of raindrops fell from the heavens, only intermittently. When the clouds broke, the raging tempest that had been building for centuries would finally be unleashed.
But Saoirse wasn’t afraid.
She was the storm.