Page 50 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)
M y expression is one of complete shock while reading the contents of the previously sealed scroll that has made its way into my hands this morning by two very timid level-ones.
I scan the neat handwriting, studying the unlikely words.
Though I know Preceptor Beldham would never lie about such things, I just can’t quite believe it. It's the morning of our third pillar trial, after all. This is the one that’s supposed to test our ability to surrender and evolve, which has to be the most ominous sounding yet.
“Merena, is everything okay?” Kleio takes a break from inhaling her breakfast long enough to ask. “Your face is doing that thing where it sort of looks like it might fold in half,” she explains, bending the piece of toast up between her hands in demonstration.
I wordlessly pass my second over the scroll for her to read. It’s then that I notice the wide-eyes belonging to said pair of timid level-ones still standing there, gaping at me.
I blink once at them in question .
“G–Good morn—morning, Captain B-Boreas,” stumbles the pale, ginger-haired boy on the left before looking pointedly over at his partner.
“Hi,” is all the umbra-toned boy on the right manages to squeak out. His brilliant green eyes, framed by cropped onyx hair, are the size of dinner plates.
It’s unbelievable how young they look. They can’t possibly be the same age as we were when first arriving here. Their awfully big uniforms hang off at odd angles and a bit of baby fat still rounds out their cheeks. Even their hair is youthfully mussy. They look like a pair of grimalkin whelps.
“Hello,” I reply, but it comes out as a question. As in, why are you two still here?
Both boys glance down the table I occupy as head.
I follow their fear-stricken gazes to find the twins. Nephthys and Prisca seem to be in some sort of sibling spat and obviously haven't been paying attention to the exchange.
Propping my elbows up on the wooden dining table, I rest my chin on interlaced fingers and wait. It takes only a handful of seconds for them to have the good sense to cease their bickering and turn their attention my way.
The twins look over at the pair of level-ones and back at me with identical expressions that make a mockery of the word innocent.
Knowing full well that the two of them, along with Nimra, have been tasked with helping the newest raiders this year only increases my darkening suspicions.
My lips press together in silent analysis.
Not a shot in hell will I buy whatever it is they’re about to try selling me on.
“What are you two little sea devils doing here, bothering our captain?” Nephthys aims for a casual chiding tone even while alarm flashes through her usual mischievous gaze.
Prisca nods a touch too emphatically in agreement. “Shouldn’t you both be practicing your drowning down in the pool chambers right about now?”
Herse snorts a laugh and the level-ones instantly blanch.
The red-haired one starts up again, his tone now frustrated. “But you said that we could—”
“Whoa–baah-buh-bup-bup,” Prisca interjects with a look that promises violence if he continues any further. The level-one throws a deep scowl back in her direction and it almost makes me laugh.
“What did you two tell them?” I demand, looking between my fifth and sixth through a narrowed gaze. They both quickly plaster on demure smiles that don’t quite manage to hide the guilt from their eyes.
“Oh nothing ,” Nephthys assures me, giving an errant wave of her hand. “You know how much kids like to prattle.”
Prisca is quick to agree. "No idea what they're blabbering about half the time."
“You said that if we did all of your tasks until the end of the year, Captain Boreas would give us each a kiss!” The green-eyed boy shouts in a surge of frustration.
Loud enough for just about any table near ours all the way down to the exit to hear.
My mouth pops open and Greer promptly snorts ice-water straight out through her nose. Herse begins banging the table with her fist while choking on her own unexpected laughter. The silverware and plates upon our table rattle around in an obnoxiously loud display.
If all eyes in the dining hall weren’t on us already, they sure as shit are now.
Kleio drops the scroll from between her hands and it flutters down to land before her plate.
With incredulous eyes, she slowly turns to fully gape at the twins.
Nimra’s soft honey irises are just as wide and anxious as the poor level-one’s while looking between me and the two imps at the other end of the table.
“You— what ?” I splutter in outrage.
Nephthys winces and slides down in her seat while biting a nail.
“It’s not the end of the year now, is it ?” Prisca hisses at the boys with a look that’s intent on murder. They each turn a bit green beneath her gaze and shake their heads ‘no’.
Sighing angrily through my nose, I turn swiftly around in my seat to face them .
I quickly study their faces to find them both fearful and yet idiotically hopeful. My eyes roll all the way to the skeleton-clad ceiling with a small shake of my head in utter aggravation.
“Just how old are you two anyway?” I ask, my voice hinting at the underlying disbelief I’m mentally grappling with in regards to the pure menaces that are my fifth and sixth.
“Thirteen,” boasts the green-eyed boy, standing up a bit straighter.
“And a half, ” corrects the other before scrambling to push back the locks of red hair that have fallen before his eyes.
“Why don’t you all try earning a kiss from one of the girls in your own level? I’m sure such strapping lads as yourself must have plenty of admirers,” I say, trying for a smile.
Murderous thoughts regarding the twins make it difficult to pull off.
The boys exchange looks of total deflation and my brow creases in confusion.
“No—” starts the one on my left, beginning to push up his sleeve.
“We don't,” finishes the other on my right, folding back the cuff of his uniform.
They hold up their exposed arms for me to view their raider brands. I study the identical skeleton of a great sea-serpent wrapped around their wrists to find both of their markings reflect a startlingly colorless shade of white.
Castaways .
A tingling sensation comes from the same blindingly white brand wrapped around my own wrist in acknowledgement. My heart stumbles a beat in response to the haunted look in their eyes, one I remember far too well. It used to greet me every day in my own grim reflection.
I sigh deeply before shaking my head at my own resolve.
Looking back at the level-ones standing before me, I motion with the crook of my finger for them to come closer.
Then I gift them each with the very thing I wish someone would have done for me all those nights I spent drowning in my own tears.
What I needed every time I’d prayed I wouldn’t wake to see the morning.
A kiss on both cheeks.
The boys step backwards, dazed.
“Now hurry on along. Go tell all your little rivals that Captain Boreas always pays her debts. Even those made on my behalf, ” I slide the last part through my teeth with a glare at the twins, who currently look as though they're trying to find a way to meld into the woodwork.
They nod, slack-jawed, before scampering clumsily away from our table.
I watch as they hold their hands firmly over each cheek as if to trap my kisses in while returning to their now gaping table of level-ones located at the other end of the dining chamber.
Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, I turn back to my crew.
“You two are both dead,” I state, motioning with my free hand to Nephthys and Prisca, now sliding down ridiculously low in their chairs. “But I’m going to have to reschedule your execution because I’m currently booked for today. Kleio—walk with me.”
Rising from the table and aiming for the nearest exit, my second quickly swipes the scroll from its spot before her plate and follows in my wake. Once we’ve made it out of the dining chamber, she blurts, “So the TideLords really won’t be there?”
“It seems not,” I reply, before beginning to rub small circles on the sides of my temples. A headache won’t be far off. “Even our officiant won't be there today. I’m not sure how or if we’ll be watched or scored, or what. Only what’s written in that letter.”
“When will you leave?” Kleio asks, just as worried about this unexpected turn of events as I am.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. We were told to go about our day as normal and we’ll be summoned when needed. ”
Kleio’s brow furrows in concern but I shrug.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Honestly, it’s better.
At least now I can get in a swim and relax a bit beforehand.
Go keep an eye on idiot one and idiot two for me.
Have Herse and Greer start thinking up punishments.
Tell them to get creative with it. Also make certain they haven’t promised my kisses to any other level-ones. Please.”
Kleio snorts a small, disbelieving laugh at the absolute absurdity of the twins' stunt. Then she gives me a brief but tight squeeze of my hand, along with a few words of encouragement for the impending trial, before leaving me to rejoin the rest of our crew.
I aim for the pool chambers, intending to make good on my previous statement and get in a nice long swim. It would be nice to work out my stress and also probably help stop this newly forming ache holding my neck hostage.
Unfortunately for me, however, a swim is not in the cards today.
Before I even make it to the entrance of the underground tunnels, a black bag is shoved down over my head while multiple strong hands contain my furiously struggling form.
If it wasn’t for the familiar sound of Beldham’s brisk voice right before wax is forced into my ear canals, I would have been slightly worried.