Page 37 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

I toss and turn in my bunk the night following our second trial.

The sheets I've thrown aside twist up around my sweat-soaked body like a vise. My night terrors flash with images from the tide pools. Kleio's face, her blue lips, and her limp body make me cry out in horror. Yet that awful memory isn’t what drives me from sleep.

Sometimes, on nights such as this one, I have these dreams that are too murky to remember in the light of day.

They’re a depthless dark around the edges, and the words sound like they’re spoken from underwater.

Faceless figures lurk in the shadows of my vision while a sense of imminent doom is all-consuming.

In the dream, I know that I’m quite young, but not much else.

There is a bright, shining light of pure halcyon that I follow through a hidden passage. Then I run with it as it leads—no, pulls me—while an uncontrollable wind tugs at my hair.

The sounds of distant screams, blood splattering, flesh tearing, and great, terrible crashes make me sob out in terror. Yet I don’t stop running. I don’t stop following that halcyon light, guiding me towards what I inexplicably know is safety.

The dream always ends the same way, with a hand outstretched. One that my dream self knows well, well enough to trust as I take their hand in mine. Right before I take a dagger to the heart.

But this time, when that wicked blade plunges itself into my chest, I look up .

Eyes that smolder and flicker with living flames stare back down at me. His golden scar flashes with a blinding light, and a dark kelpie’s terrifying scream rips through the air.

I jolt awake, panting heavily as a frantically thundering otherworldly beat pulses in my ears.

That blinding light flashes again before thunder rolls from above while vicious winds whip around our room.

I quickly realized that the light wasn't a scar from my dreams, but actual lightning.

It wasn't the kelpie's scream but the wind's scream.

The windows to our veranda have blown open, and it looks like a particularly nasty storm is making its way through.

The room around me is freezing cold, and I hear some of my crew groan out uncomfortably in their sleep. My palms and neck are slicking with sweat, and my throat is hoarse from shouting, but thankfully no one seems to have awoken.

I jump down from my bunk and scramble towards the veranda.

Rain is thick and heavy outside. Thunder shakes the North Order's bones as another bolt of power streaks across the sky.

I securely latch the doors before pausing to watch the ocean below as it thrashes with vengeance.

The waves almost seem to heave in time to the pounding beat trapped inside my ears.

“Merena?”

I turn sharply to discover Herse standing in the doorway to our room; her bunk is in the room across the shared living area of our cabin.

Lifting my hand, I wordlessly signal to her before swiping the blanket hanging off my bed and wrapping it around myself.

I stifle my laugh at the sight of Kleio, who bunks under me, and her halfway-on-halfway-off diagonal sleeping position .

Herse has already disappeared, so I meet her out in the living area and take the furthest of the white armchairs for myself while she lights the green marble hearth. Noticing how her breath comes out in frigid clouds, I instantly feel the twist of guilt.

My first year here or so, I had this nightmare all the time. It pissed off just about every raider who ever had poor enough luck to room with me, as they’d oftentimes wake to find themselves and their sheets covered in a layer of frost. The reoccurrences eased a bit after that first year.

For awhile, it would only occasionally intrude on my other nighttime terrors. Then, after I became friendly with Kleio, maybe once a year. I haven’t had that nightmare since level five.

Herse takes the chair beside mine and begins warming herself before the flames.

“Sorry,” I apologize with a grimace. Herse turns to me with a manicured brow raised. “About the cold. I had the nightmare again,” I clarify.

Understanding lightens her violet eyes, and she shakes her head of angular black hair. “Don’t ever apologize to me for something outside of your control, Captain.”

I incline my chin before leaning back into the comfort of the plush armchair. I know when Herse’s words are final, and she knows that if I want to talk about it, I will. When I don’t say anything more, she skillfully changes the topic. “So the dinner... was a rouse?”

“Sort of. There was an actual dinner, but the wine was drugged,” I explain.

Herse snorts faintly in response, her eyes studying the heavy rain lashing against the windows high above the marble mantle.

“How much did you all actually see during the task?” I ask hesitantly. The question is one that I was too cowardly to voice after the trial’s completion. But clearly it's eating me from the inside out if the new addition to my nightmare is any indication .

Herse glances away from the rain to give me a queer look. “From the moment you all wandered out of whatever underground chamber it was that they dumped you in. Why?”

“What about the labyrinth room, the one with the tide pools?” I hedge.

Her face pales against the sharp cut of her midnight bob. “You mean when you jumped into the water? Screaming for Kleio?”

I nod in response.

Herse no longer meets my eyes, and her voice is uncharacteristically thick when admitting, “I thought you might have died. You went under that black surface and the next time we saw you—” she shudders and her face turns unnaturally pale while something strange shimmers along her waterline.

“Vash was dragging your limp body towards the end of the chamber.”

My shoulders drop incrementally in relief as something unfurls completely in the pit of my stomach. I think I might even sigh out. It really had been in my head. That moment with Agni was just an illusion. A nasty trick. Very likely crafted with the intention of cracking my sanity.

Herse must notice my relief because her expression turns curious. “Was there something we missed?”

I blow out a long breath as thunder rumbles loudly overhead. If there was someone, anyone, that I could talk to about this, it would probably be Herse. “I saw Kleio’s body, but when I went in after her, she was gone. Then I saw some other things in the water. Horrible things. Cruel illusions."

My third chews on a lip while her violet eyes study my face. The calculation behind those cunning irises tells me she knows there's more that I’m not saying, but Herse, true to form, doesn’t push me further. “How long until the next trial?” She asks, changing the topic again.

“Three whole months this time,” I answer, feeling lighter by the minute. “Our officiant told us after scoring that we’ll be hosting the TideLords in a month or so for Luminalia. The third Pillar Trial isn’t for another month and a half after that. ”

“The TideLords here ? For Luminalia?” She echoes in wonder, and I tilt my head in answer.

Her expression becomes thoughtful and a bit distant. We sit and watch the storm in comfortable, companionable silence as it howls long into the deep, dark night.

Fuck.

There’s a gods-awful soreness in my neck from craning it at such an odd angle in order to study the projected image Preceptor Beldham has displayed for us at the front of the room. What appears to be a large whale swims in place through the space above our heads.

Its movements are somewhat strange though, almost as if— “It’s mechanical.” I find myself blurting the thought aloud before meeting Preceptor Beldham’s striking blue eyes.

Her gaze brightens, and she nods. "Correct, Captain Boreas. Excellent observation. This is one of the latest advances we’ve seen come out of the Sunken Province.”

The image enlarges so we can view it in clearer detail, and I glimpse a HIN inscription along the backside of its massive tail.

“What are they calling them?”

I try not to flinch at the closeness of Captain Agni's deep questioning timbre.

Unbelievably, I’ve somehow made things worse for myself by reclaiming our seats in Preceptor Beldham's class. Agni and his crew finagled their way into convincing Corvina and her crew to switch tables with them, so now they sit directly behind us. His chair rests just a meter away from mine.

“Good question, Captain Agni. We have reports that they’re calling them sinkers,” Beldham answers with a curt nod of approval.

Greer snorts faintly from the other side of Kleio. “How clever,” she mutters beneath her breath. The comment piques my interest, especially considering that my fourth originated from the Sunken Isles before being sacrificed.

“What other questions should you be asking?” Our Grand Regent inquires of the class, her gaze remaining on the enlarged image.

“How fast are they? How far can they travel?” I throw out without bothering to raise my hand.

"From what we know for certain, up to twenty knots, fully submerged, and as far as five hundred miles before needing to refuel." Her career rings tap against the wooden podium as she waits for more questions. I swallowed that daunting new knowledge thickly.

“How deep?” Agni asks from far too near my ear. My jaw clenches tight in irked response to the weight of his legs as he proceeds to prop them on the bottom ledge of my chair.

Beldham responds briskly, “This one in particular can delve roughly six hundred meters. However, there are reports of other sinkers similar to this that can go much, much further.”

More raiders start spewing their questions, and I turn back to give Agni a glare full of ire in response to his incessant need to provoke me. It’s been two weeks now since the second trial, and he’s practically made it his personal mission to vex me at every single possible turn.

I don’t know what’s gotten into him.

It’s gone past his previous desire to put me down, to make sure I’m aware of what I am.

Now it's like he can’t resist even the slightest opportunity to thwart me, while I’m determined to ignore him as much as possible. After the events in the tidepools, I can't find another way to get him out of my head. Agni, however, is determined to make that new resolution practically impossible.

He smirks at my outward annoyance and slides down further, so that his legs weigh even more on my seat. I throw him a withering glare before forcing myself to turn around and try my hardest to resist his goading. I’m resolved not to see those amber eyes every time I close mine.

I listen as best I can to Beldham’s lecture over the new challenges these sinkers are creating, taking notes on how widespread they’ve become and what sort of weaponry we can expect them to contain.

When the lesson finally concludes, I’m on pins and needles from restraining myself so forcefully in order to not give any sort of reaction to the male behind me.

At this point, I'm no better than a hound chafing at its leash.

So when I feel a sharp tug on my braid, I snap completely with a snarl of outrage.

Turning swiftly to find the culprit with my affinity poised to maim, I spot Captain Agni’s retreating figure. My eyes narrow in on his broad shoulders, shaking with laughter.

My building rage is a palpable, dangerous thing.