Page 96 of Death’s Kiss (The Order of the Tide Raiders #1)

“ S o do you think we just like, smash it or what?” Nephthys asks.

“ No —we do not smash it!” I gasp, yanking back the bottle from idiot number one’s current inspection.

The very beautiful little imp looks over to her equally stunning twin, and I watch them pass unspoken words before Nephthys busts out laughing. “I told you she would lose it.”

Prisca snorts before resentfully handing over some sort of shared oblation token with a shake of her glimmering head.

Rolling my eyes in irritation, I turn back to face my absolute knockout of a second who is still gazing in wonder at the bottle in my hands.

I can’t help but smile at her unwavering adoration for the ship.

Kleio’s been staring at it like this ever since we let the mongrels go and returned to our speeder.

Our crews followed each other's moonlighters, more than a bit resentfully, and made it out of the kórallian maze in record time. By the time we arrived back at the floating docks, dawn had become full-blown morning. The welcome we received was absurdly thunderous and ear-splittingly boisterous.

But mostly it was very, very drunk.

So drunk that at first no one even noticed there were actually two vault winners standing before them.

Captain Agni had held his bottle up high with an arrogant smirk, and the entire crowd of raiders went inconceivably mad for him.

They even began chanting his name. Like he needed any expansion on that massive fucking ego.

I meanwhile was still lost inside my own thoughts from the overwhelming amount of new and confusing information provided while inside The Vault. So much so that Herse actually had to grab my arm with ‘Death’s Kiss’ and raise it up for me in victory.

It effectively snapped me out of my trance, and I returned to a world of complete silence. Silence that erupted into another, much more heavily disoriented, round of cheering.

The TideLords each made their appearances to congratulate us soon after. Truthfully, I was surprised to find that they all strangely seemed much less intimidating to me now.

The way they in turn eyed Agni and myself, plus our crews, was an equally unexpected change. No longer did they gaze down from their viewing platform with little more than a nod or casual smile. They were beginning to measure us much differently now.

There was real fear in their eyes when realizing what the gods had done. There was also a very real and quite ravenous hunger while considering us that hadn’t been there before. A need among each one of them to be the TideLord that acquires such beautiful weapons for their own personal arsenal.

I could practically taste the highly competitive storm brewing between the seven. The tables have turned. They’ll be fighting for us to choose one of them as being worthy of our attention .

To my immense disappointment, I did not get to see the Raider King himself. There has apparently been another alarming development regarding the falling stars on Luminalia that required his immediate attention.

I can’t deny I’m beginning to sense that feeling of impending dread that the others have picked up on from that night. It’s almost like there’s a warning message being whispered in the air. But I just can’t quite make out the words.

The return ride north was a brand new kind of torture. All seven of my crew members passed out almost immediately upon castoff. I myself was impossibly exhausted and yet couldn’t manage to sleep even one single wink the entire time.

This well of foreign yet familiar power humming beneath my skin flat-out refused to allow my body relax enough to slumber. My mind was also too busy running round and round the intense amount of bewildering and conflicting knowledge I’d gained about myself and my past to drift off.

There was a staggering list of questions I’d tallied inside my head from three memories alone. The first of which being my parents. My origins.

As far as I knew, there was no ‘Bastard King’ in all of Pontus.

I’d thought over each landmass, isle, drifter, and all known rulers.

Absolutely no one matched that name, reputation, or even came close to my father’s physical description.

Not to mention the fact that he would without a doubt been mentioned in Preceptor Chie’s class as well as Beldham’s.

So what did that mean?

Then there was thing my mother had said. That I was both Northern and Nawai . There is no true ‘North’. Not anymore, at least. Not for a very, very long time. Nothing exists any further beyond our tiny cardinal isle other than hulking glaciers and unpassable seas.

I’m not even sure what to make of the Nawai bit. I know about as much regarding the spirit realm as the next raider. Which is to say, very little. Only the Sons and Daughters with their ‘true sight’ have access to the mysteries of the netherdepths.

My mother was another question entirely .

I could almost convince myself I’d imagined her up if it weren’t for that voice.

Mama’s voice in those memories was the exact same one I’d heard that day before being struck by evening stars.

Then I'd heard it a second time when being forced to beg Captain Leporem and trying to make me kiss her captaincy ring. I had known that voice deep down.

And I was always desperate to hear more of it.

The more I thought about my parents in those few precious memories, the more I realized I don’t want to know anything more about my past. I’d felt so much love both for and from each of them in those past moments that coming back down to reality was a crushing sort of blow.

They had really, truly, loved me.

Yet here I am, a bastard-born castaway.

I’m left to assume those truths mean there is in fact a reasonable explanation for that ever-present miserable sort of darkness that’s always pressing in the back of my mind. I must have done something horrible to lose their love.

If Agni's claims are truthful, and I should be begging for his forgiveness, then that only confirms I don’t want to know anything more.

Whatever I did must be the reason for the drowned gods marking me so cruelly.

Even if my hair had already been white, my brand and affinity mark are just as damning.

I don't know why I’m even remotely surprised to realize I must have deserved it after all.

So I’m done searching for my past.

I’ll keep my precious memories safe and accept my castaway status as atonement.

My focus from here on out belongs solely to my crew and their futures.

While I might not be deserving of it, they are each more than worthy of whatever goodness I can bring to this second life for them.

I will continue to be their rock between any and all storms.

No matter the cost.

Of course my mind then circled round and round the highly complex puzzle that is Captain Agni. Or rather Halcyon, as I now knew him.

My darling, dear, betrothed .

After the night of the winter storm, after learning the truth about the incident with his kelpie, I realized there was more to Agni than what I’d previously written him off as.

But I didn’t have the faintest clue as to how much more there was.

Nor did I have any idea the staggering amount of contrasting layers within his possession.

He is cocky, and arrogant, and oftentimes intolerably insolent. He can also be cruel and cunning and brutally ruthless. But now I have to grapple with this newest layer. He can be... empathetic ?

Logically, I suppose him helping me get ahold of my powers was really just as much for his own benefit and the safety of his crew as it was for me and mine. But why be— sweet ? Gentle, even?

Agni is quite literally an enigma taken form.

We had a past. One that I can confidently conclude ended pretty fucking horribly.

Horrible enough for him to believe that on top of everything else I'd been through, I also deserved an entire year of psychological warfare and mental games of torment from him. Which begs the question: how do I even know they’ve ended?

If I should be down on the ground groveling for his absolution, then I have to think that this whole charade between us isn’t over. No, I’d wager that this dance is far from finished.

Perhaps then it's his tactics that have changed.

I know for certain that whatever loathing there is, and evidently historically has been between us, hasn’t just disappeared overnight. Strategically thinking, if the tables were turned, I’d be working to adapt my ploys to the enemy and any new external factors presenting themselves.

As any worthy Tide Raider would.

If I were Agni, it would have been in my best interest to play nice.

Especially when I, the enemy, had just regained access to a highly dangerous and emotionally controlled source of power.

It would honestly have been suicidal to be less than cordial.

That would explain his little 'golden boy' act .

Though the dusk ‘til dawn offer is... troubling.

Agni doesn’t make a single move that isn’t ultimately to his own benefit.

I can’t imagine him as the type who would ever actually want to be tied down in that sense and most definitely not to me.

I think I'm safe to conclude his offer, this ‘trial run’ as he calls it, is essentially a way to get whatever attraction he feels towards me out of his system.

To eliminate that weakness.

His games with me might just have moved into a much more dangerous territory of emotional destruction.

If that's the case, it would only make sense that he'd begin trying to bring my guard down. Using a bit of kindness and some romantic notions as ploys. Once he has me at my most vulnerable, Agni can take advantage and enact whatever it is he clearly believes I’ve earned myself.

Tactically, it’s kind of genius.

The more I wrestled with my inner turmoil regarding Agni, the more I came to realize just how very dangerous he is. Dangerous to me in particular. Which, by extension, means he's dangerous to my crew. And I can't allow for that.

If I’m at last understanding him and his true motivations, then the best thing I can do for the sake of my crew is to keep as far away from Agni as possible.

While there’s a chance, and a growing list of evidence, that I might deserve his retribution, my seven most definitely do not.

I can’t take any risks when it comes to their well-being.

No matter how addictive a puzzle he may be.

Mercifully, the other cardinals all left directly from The Vault to return back to their own isles far away across the Pontus seas.

While the North Order is only a few hours' from the mythic pillars, the other’s will have a week at least to journey back home.

A few will be stopping at the Driftwood Court in order to properly send off their fallen.

One captain and four raiders did not make it out alive.

We were told it’s the least amount of deaths there’s ever been during The Vault.

That fact does not make the loss of Captain Tetsuo’s life any more tolerable.

The weight of his death very prominently lingered beside me the entire ride back.

Even now, I just can’t seem to shake it.

Since our very recent return, I’ve refused to step a foot inside those gates of hell. The last thing I want is for even one of those shadows that haunt that dark fortress to return to my crew’s eyes. After everything, I just can’t bear going back inside.

Not yet, at least.

I’m also fairly certain that I might just murder Skelm, Bealu, and Ersatz with my bare hands if given the chance.

I actually found myself debating quite heavily during the last little bit of our journey just exactly how severe the fallout would be.

Something about this wave of unlocked power makes me feel every bit as willful and defiant and reckless as the night I washed up here.

Like all those years of punishments and torture I’ve been through with the intent to break me down have been cleansed away. I’m ready for a fight, itching to cause trouble.

If it wasn’t for my crew and their futures tythed to mine, I’d be kicking down Skelm's door right this very minute. To avoid that, I’ve marched us down to moorings past Giant’s Crook and decided to christen our new home.

My attention returns to Kleio, currently studying the perfect vessel cradled in my hands, slack-jawed.

“You like it?” I ask with a broadening grin.

Her wide sepia eyes meet mine before whispering reverently, “It’s incredible .”

My grin broadens further when stating, “It’s yours.” That grin becomes quite painful as I look around at each of my crew members and proclaim, “It’s all of yours. It’s ours .”

All seven of my perfectly wonderful crew members look at me with extremely tight swallows. Very real tears begin lining their eyes, and I catch sight of something a lot like eternal devotion glinting in their gazes. It’s a look I most definitely don’t feel deserving of.

For brevity’s sake, I ask, “Well, let's crack this bad-boy open, shall we?” before pivoting backwards on the tall black tooth-like rock in which I currently stand .

The sea is eerily calm today, with a pleasant warmth in the breeze bringing tidings of summer. A quick scan, however, reveals some ominous-looking clouds gathering far off along the horizon. I don’t allow them to deter me from this moment.

Holding the bottle containing our ship up high above my head, I shout the ceremonial words with a commanding air, “I christen thee 'Death’s Kiss', belonging now and forever more to the Sacred Eight. Captained by Merena Boreas and her crew of deadly sirens!” Then I hurl my hard-won vault prize into the eerie tides.

It takes no more than a moment before an otherworldly shudder ripples in the waters before us, sending a blast of pure, ancient power running throughout the world of Pontus. I shiver in response to the wave of passing energy.

It feels like some sort of harbinger.

The hauntingly beautiful ship, now officially belonging to my crew and I, rises up and out of the arctic waters as the very answer to each one of my childhood prayers.

To my surprise, I find while inspecting the beast in all its terrifying life-size beauty, that there is a previously undiscovered figurehead carved into the front of the ship’s lethal bow of obsidian.

It portrays that of a gorgeously sculpted siren .