Page 18 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

I’m made to wait for the next ten minutes before the midpoint opening of the tarped off level.

Raider Dornon explained what announcements to expect before the official start of the Pillar Trial, but most of what he told me was lost to the increasingly loud pounding of my heart.

It’s a real struggle getting my feet to pull from the ground when finally hearing the signal I’ve been waiting for.

The eruption of cheers emitted from the gathered crowd at my entrance is deafening.

I glance up and around, hoping to spot familiar brown curls, a slash of black hair, or flaming red locks, but there’s too many raiders gathered to locate my crew.

The stadium is a blur of faces and roars of excitement.

So I swallow my agitation and continue steadily along the path.

As Dornon explained before leaving our group, there’s a line of neon flags that mark the walkway to the groyne extending out into the bay. The darkened sky makes it appear to be evening rather than morning, and the flags I pass flap wildly in the brutal winds.

Tapping my fingers rhythmically against each other, I begin counting to quell my nerves until making it to the edge.

My feet stop themselves at the end of the wooden track stretching across the familiar waters, precisely where I’ve been instructed to.

With the wind and the constant shrill of sirens and thunder, it’s almost impossible for me to hear the announcer's distant voice. Yet it’s imperative that I do.

When I said we were going in blind, I meant it.

I still have no idea what I’m about to face.

My hand travels down to the borrowed hilt of the blade Preceptor Oplon leant to me for today. Gripping it somehow fractionally eases the pounding lodged somewhere inside my throat. Enough, at least for me to hear the announcer's next words.

“Here we go, Raiders! To set us off on what will no doubt be an unforgettable year of trials we have before us, Captain Boreas.

Our first captain here represents one of two from the Cardinal North.

Not only is she the first castaway ever selected to compete for the Vault, but as her name gives away, she's bastard-born to top it off. Truly history in the making here with this one!”

My teeth stack themselves tightly in response to the booming voice.

Just get to it already .

I begin eyeing the sea wall directly across the bay.

The new structure extends from one end of the curved waters to the other, effectively closing out the ocean beyond.

Growing ever anxious, I start bouncing between one foot and the other to keep my muscles loose while striving to hear what’s being said to the crowd at my back.

“You all may have noticed the weather has taken a bit of a turn—”

I’m trying to make sense of his words when another high-pitched shrill pierces the sky. It’s so close now that the sound reverberates through the groyne under my still-bouncing feet.

“—generously donated by TideLord Nero specifically for this first pillar!”

A clamor of rowdy cheering erupts from behind, and I look backwards in bewilderment at the new commotion. I didn’t hear what he said. Panic flares up inside of me, bright and pungent.

What ? What did he say? What’ s the task?

My head is swinging around in all directions as if the answer might just be written somewhere when a large groaning noise emanates out from across the bay.

My eyes snap back to the waters, and my hand tightens its grip around the hand-me-down hilt.

The seawall separating the bay from the outside ocean has begun to move.

“—selected based on the findings of Hiereus Philistos.”

What is he talking about?

I’m only catching snippets of information due to the level of noise surrounding me from every possible angle.

The words that I do manage to catch don’t make any sense.

They're too jumbled and sporadic for me to piece together the intel properly. The seawall continues stretching outwards with a grating sort of sound. There’s a sliver of an opening forming in the center, directly opposite from where I currently stand. My pulse hammers faster and louder.

I can just barely make out what appears to be some sort of a massive cage on the other side of that narrow opening. The clouds above gather tightly while the winds rise up and whip greedily through my long braid. Small pinpricks of water start to fall from the sky.

Shuffling as close as I dare to the edge of my designated starting position, my eyes strain to see what lies beyond that enclosure.

I cover my brow from the rain just as the alarm-like sound from before, that otherworldly piercing shriek, shatters the sky and damn near splits my eardrums. This time it comes from the cage, now fully wedged into the seawall opening.

Understanding dawns on me at last, and my knees begin to shake.

The next proclamation from the booming announcer echoes out to the gathered crowd before being carried to my ears on savage winds. “We welcome our captains to their first challenge: The taming of the kelpie!”

The front of that iron enclosure slams open at the sound of the announcer's signal. And all I can think is that I should have gone with the broadsword.