“The rules are quite simple. At the sound of the horn, swim to the middle island—if you would like to live, please avoid what lurks beneath. I’d like at least a few competitors to return in one piece.” He points in the distance and smiles. The island looks like a speck on the skyline. “On the island, there are bags containing items that could be vital to your survival in these trials. Choose wisely or choose none—the choice is yours. If you return without one, consider yourself the loser.”
I scan the horizon, counting the strokes I think would take the most talented swimmer to make it—one thousand at least.
“One rule,” the king says, surveying the competitors. “No shifting.”
I stand alongside the men who tower over me. I’m already at a disadvantage due to my size and their wingspans being miles longer than mine—however, I’m fast and light compared to their large bodies. I have a chance if I can keep up the pace. The rules are straightforward, but I know this will be grueling. I glance at Oak, who stands closest to me, and his concerned look does little to ease my nerves as we all step forward, some crouching to propel themselves faster into the darkness. “Competitors at the ready,” the King of Daramveer shouts.
Silas turns his head in my direction. I attempt to ignore his intense stare, but our eyes meet. His brow furrows as he mouths, “Swim. Fast.”
The horn sounds, but I remain on the dock for a second, watching the others disappear into the black water.
“Briar! Jump!” Maines shouts from the crowd behind me.
I take a deep breath and dive into the icy water without a moment's hesitation.
The crashing waves muffle my hearing. I lift my head above the water to see Thatcher leading the pack, swimming with arrogant ease—Silas and Rohhit close behind. The twins don’t trail far off, while Oak, Cromwell, and I follow at the end. Blackwater fills my eyes and mouth as I gasp for air, pushing with all my might to keep up with even the slowest of the men. My hands and feet start to tingle from the freezing water as I begin to remember why I hate swimming.
I narrowly avoid a kick from Oak as the splash of his wake is only inches in front of my face, making it nearly impossible to see what’s ahead. I’m gaining on him while the adrenaline propels me forward. Oak begins to struggle as the burn from the freezing water quickly weakens our muscles. Another burst of energy pushes me forward as I pass him. I don’t have to win—I just can’t lose. Various plants under the water begin to brush against my legs as we swim further with each stroke. Each vine pulling at my frantic legs sends a rush of panic through me.
I continue my strokes, my arms shooting overhead with each crashing wave that engulfs me. Somehow, joy finds its way into my system, knowing I’m not dead or last when a gargled scream erupts from Oak. The sound stops me mid-stroke.
I glance behind me through the waves, but Oak is nowhere to be seen. Fear grips me harder than the rolling water—I’m scanning the horizon for any sign of him when something grabs my ankle.
Water rushes over my head as I’m pulled down. A sharp pain shoots through my leg as I thrash against the force dragging me toward death. My vision blurs in the darkness but I continue kicking, desperate to strike whatever has its claws in me.
A figure swims into focus next to me, a wide grin spreading across its face and revealing rows of rotten, gray teeth. Long fingers tighten around my ankle as the water shifts from black to crimson. The creature’s gray body flails beneath me—both graceful and horrifying.
A scream rips from my throat, bubbles blinding me momentarily as I lose focus. Seconds are all I have. With a flash of black, I expel what magic I can muster at the creature. Itscreeches as its grip loosens, giving me just enough time to swim toward the surface.
My lungs burn as I spot Oak, unconscious and sinking deeper into the water.
I push my body through the water toward him, though my leg is numb—the creatures zip past, confusing my sense of direction. My lungs scream for air, but I keep moving. Oak reappears in my sight just as another creature nears, ready to grab him again. I raise my arm despite the water slowing my movements. A surge of black shadows erupts from my hands, colliding with the creature beside Oak. It’s blasted backward, disappearing into the black water.
Exhaustion threatens to overtake me, but I push forward, swimming the final few feet to Oak. I grab his arm and kick for the surface—my muscles screaming at me to stop.
Breaking through the water, I take a deep breath, holding Oak tight. I realize the creature pulled us toward the island as if working in tandem with the horrifying things that reside there. I whisper a quick prayer, grateful that we encountered only one. My lungs expand, and the breath of air is euphoric.
The others stand on the island, watching with horrified looks as we approach—Silas stands waist-deep in the water, as if he was about to jump in after us but didn’t.
Making it to the shore, I drag Oak onto the sand. I turn to see what the others are staring at, and a gasp leaves my mouth. Those same creatures line the horizon, their hollow black eyes barely breaking the surface of the red-stained water. They wait, knowing we have only one way back to Daramveer, and it’s not shifting.
I quickly realize that we won’t be so lucky on the way back.
Silas grabs my arm and pulls me from the freezing water. “Gods, Briar. I told you to swim.”
I jerk my arm back. “I was! And if you didn’t notice, I’m the only one who stuck around to save Oak. Winning must be more important than saving someone’s life!” I hiss.
The foaming tides cover my ankle, and it burns. Deep cuts streak up my leg, blood pooling around my foot. Maines will need to heal this immediately, assuming I make the swim back.
He steps closer, noticing my wound, water trickling down his scar. “That’s where you are wrong, Briar. You have no clue what I am willing to do for the people I care for.” His gaze burns a hole through me. “We need to get that healed. Can you move it?”
I ignore his questions, rolling my eyes. I limp past him, the pain already slowing my walk as Oak jolts awake. Water pours out of his mouth as he coughs out black fluid. “What the fuck was that thing?”
“Serpyndens,” Rohhit says, tossing us each a bag we were to collect. “Some say they’ve been around long before the Great Wiitches walked this realm. Horrible creatures that feast off the flesh. I’ve never seen them this close to the surface, though. Something must have awoken them.”
Silas’s gaze remains on mine as the weight of his secrecy crashes against my body, just like the waves.
What isn’t he telling me?
