Page 58 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

A fter yet another brush with death and Captain Agni, it has become glaringly obvious that it's time to come clean to Kleio and my crew about everything.

Mostly .

The week following Captain Namak’s death, my second and I decide to reveal our special place among the nets to the other six.

With a few bottles of liquor for courage, thanks to Vash and his improbable ability to get just about any illegal substance smuggled into the north, I set about unburdening my crushing load of guilt.

One damning story at a time.

Starting at the top, I fill them in on the night terrors, trials, and hallucinations still eating me from the inside out.

I don’t go into specifics on the tidepool’s trick, but enough to get the gist of my mental undoing.

I then divulge the details of my message to Kerau, as well as my embarrassing lack of knowledge about my own affinity.

After that lengthy spiel, I give a rushed description of his brief appearance at Luminalia, quickly followed by his deceit .

I knew they hadn’t been aware of Kerau’s presence, but none of his crew members had been spotted either, apparently. In fact, I wasn’t sure whether or not they had joined their captain in his return to the north at all. A fact I only now regard as strange.

The guilt of putting myself and my crew in such a precarious position feels like it might just swallow me whole. My heart hangs in my throat. My head hangs in my hands.

Saving the very worst for last, I finally explain to them my current od with Captain Agni and begrudgingly recount his latest assistance.

What I don’t feel the need to mention is the very disturbing illusion that led me so near that treacherous edge in the first place. That little vision of insanity is something I myself am still attempting to detangle, and I’d prefer to deal with one psychosis at a time.

“Fuck— Merena .” Kleio swears angrily. Not at me, but for me. A reaction I hadn’t been expecting nor was I prepared for. “Gods, I didn’t even think—Vash said Skelm already went over the bylaws with you guys. He said they were explained before the first trial!”

“Maybe he told Vash, but he sure as shit didn’t think to fill me in.”

When I mull that idea over, I come to find it is admittedly right on target for our Grand Preceptor in all things regarding me. This was just classic. I should have known.

“Did he happen to mention what all they were?” I ask through the spaces between my fingers.

Kleio’s face is turning redder by the minute.

“There’s just three.” My second huffs before listing them.

“No fraternizing with any raider belonging to a TideLord, any communication between participants and TideLords may only be initiated by the Lord, and no maiming or killing of another captain outside of the Pillar Trials. The penalty for each being forfeiture of The Vault. ”

“That little fucking asshole,” Herse mutters to no one in particular while using one of her butterfly blades to pick dirt out from under her nails. She’s still missing the one Vagar Ophios swiped from her. From the angry furrow in her brow, I wonder if she’s remembering that fact.

“Which one?” Greer asks in a tone reeking of sarcasm while passing the bootlegged liquor bottle over to Herse.

“Both. They’re both such fucking pricks,” Kleio grumbles, her voice uncharacteristically dark as her hand squeezes my arm reassuringly. "I swear, if I see Captain Tharos again, those precious cheekbones of his will get well-acquainted with my bare knuckles."

Herse snorts a laugh, and it’s accompanied by the twin’s snickering from where they currently lay spread-eagled in the center of the netting. They both appear absolutely exhausted.

Good .

Since the stunt they pulled last week, Herse and Greer have overseen their punishment as I had requested.

Prisca and Nephthys have been made to complete the chores of our entire cabin, along with treading water for two hours every evening down in the pool chambers.

All done in an effort to remind them what it was like to be level-ones. With one other condition.

I also requested that they be creative with it.

Even with the overbearing guilt crushing down on me, the corner of my mouth has a hard time not pulling upwards when looking over at them. Or more specifically, when catching sight of the very blatant signs my third and fourth made and then stitched to the front of their uniforms.

In large lettering, their makeshift tags read, 'IDIOT. CANNOT BE TRUSTED.' I was informed that it’s just until their month of hell is up. Only three weeks left to go.

I’m forced to duck my head to keep from snorting in amusement at the addition the pair made to their uniform requirement. With bandanas made of spare cloth tied around their foreheads, they've titled themselves 'IDIOT #1' and 'IDIOT #2.' In birth order, of course.

They made me crown them the evening following the unnerving pyre burning.

It was an official, completely made-up, and wholly ridiculous ceremony.

It was also their heathenly form of an apology, one that was extremely difficult to keep a straight face while accepting.

To be honest, after the heaviness of the night prior, I was more than glad for the distraction.

They wear them every day, entirely of their own volition.

“Captain Agni truly saved your life, again?” Nimra’s questions hesitantly from where she sits across the netting with her legs bent at the knees while the soles of her feet line up together.

“Technically— yes, ” I slide the admission through clenched teeth, hating the way it sounds aloud.

“That would be the reason both his kneecaps aren't currently being shattered,” Greer points out while attempting to re-wrangle her vibrant hair.

“I’m still debating it,” Herse growls softly with the menacing flick of her blade.

Kleio huffs in agreement before her distant expression turns contemplative. “So you have now what— three questions left, is it?” She inquires, lifting her gaze to mine without an ounce of anger or blame. It makes me feel worse than I’d thought possible for not having confided in her sooner.

“Correct.” I sigh, picking habitually at the skin around my nails. “They could be about anything. Strategy for the final pillar, your all's affinities, vulnerabilities—” All those months of anxiety and panic start welling up once more, making my voice come out tight and thick and weak .

I hate it. I hate Captain Agni all the more for it.

“Anything Agni can exploit for leverage, he will.” My claim is gruff with finality.

“What if you got him to ask you something else, then? Something relatively harmless—like the first two?” Nimra asks, her fawn-like eyes imploring in the wake of my visible agitation .

Herse and I snorted our derision at the same time.

“And just how do you suppose she does that?” Prisca asks, stealing the sardonic question from its place along my tongue while her ridiculous bandana droops at a blasé angle atop her head.

A small grin I don’t believe I’ve seen before tugs at Nimra’s mouth. It reminds me far too much of the twins. Maybe having her help them in instructing the level-ones this year was a mistake.

“Well, the south captain does keep a pretty close eye on you,” Nimra says slowly while measuring my reaction. “It seems to me like he has a bit of an odd fascination, maybe that could work to your advantage.”

“In what way?” I snap, turning to get a better look at my seventh.

Nimra strokes back her dual chestnut braids absently, revealing the tips of her ears turning pink. “You know… get him alone. Be interesting , I suppose. Make him want to ask you things that aren’t related to us or the trials or whatever else you want to keep secret.”

A blush creeps over her cheeks under my look of dubiety.

"Nimra, you sly little minx,” Nephthys teases, rising up from her deathbed to playfully shove my seventh’s knee.

I think I would have been less dumbfounded had the girl risen up and slapped me across the face. “So you’re suggesting I should, what? Get him to ask me my favorite color or something?”

Herse guffaws at the thought, while Kleio inches closer with a queer look on her face.

“No. Not exactly,” Nimra hedges, twisting a braid around her index finger. “More like—

“What color undergarments you’re wearing,” Prisca supplies, throwing a suggestive wink towards my expression of complete bafflement. It sets Nephthys howling.

Davina, who has just taken a sip from the bootlegged bottle, begins promptly choking on the indigo-colored liquor .

“Have you two not been punished enough ?” Herse hisses at the twins. The overt irritation in her voice doesn’t hide the flicker of humor pulling along her mouth. Greer meanwhile runs a hand down her face in disbelief at their incorrigible cheek.

“Hang on I—I think maybe she’s right, Merena,” Kleio interjects, making my jaw hang open wider. I give my second a look of bewilderment before closing my mouth and shaking my head incredulously at them all.

“Hear me out,” Kleio requests, her palms open in defense. “Nimra isn’t wrong. Captain Agni has taken a particular interest in you since arriving here. I’m not suggesting you go to the extent of idiot number two’s advice over here, but a little sweet talk might do more than you think.”

My eyes narrow with a scowl. “Agni has made it crystal clear that he regards my existence as some sort of personal offense. His ‘interest’ in me is the same as every other asshole who is disgusted by the fact that I'm a castaway and yet alive. As if I had a choice in the matter,” I scoff.

Kleio bites down on a lip before sharing a look with Herse that I don’t catch the meaning of.

My scowl deepens.

“Right,” My second agrees, drawing out the word slowly. “I’m not saying that his curiosity surrounding you isn’t malignant in nature—I’m pointing out that for good or bad he is drawn to you. He’s curious about you specifically, and that’s something to leverage.”