He looks down the line of us as we all swish back and forth on our poles, pulled by the ebb and flow of the swells, hung out on lines like bait.
The water is semi-clear, but I can’t see too far down. What’s in here? I run through all the ocean creatures the ancient Greek gods like to use. A selkie? Sirens? A hydra seems like overkill and too big for this cave.
At least my shivering is starting to ease as I adjust to the water.
Poseidon continues. “This Labor will test not only your courage but your wits, and even an ability to work with those who would see you fail. All skills a leader would need.”
Why would being a leader be anything the Crucible needed to prove? The mortal winner won’t be leading anything. Their god or goddess will.
Poseidon’s smile is damn near gleeful, though I can’t tell if he’s bloodthirsty or just incredibly proud of what he has in store for us today. It’s the first Labor, so does that make it the hardest? Or will they get progressively more difficult?
“Oh…” He chuckles. That dickhead actually chuckles. “You’ve probably already noticed the temperature of the water. It’s summer, so it won’t kill you right away, but it will start to affect you the longer you’re in it. I suggest you hurry.”
Fuck me.
The Crucible truly is just a game to the gods. We aren’t real to them or worth worrying over. This isn’t life and death to them, just a little sport.
Damned if I’m going to let them kill me for sport. The other champions, either, if I can help it, even the ones who hate me already. None of us asked for this.
“Best of luck to you all.” He turns his head to look at his champion, who must be tied up farther into the cave. “But especially to you, Isabel.”
Then he dives back into the water, sending another wave cresting over my head. At least this time I see it coming and can brace myself. By the time I wipe my salty face on my shoulders again, he’s gone.
There’s a beat of silence as we all absorb the fact that he’s just going to leave us here to figure it out.
“We’re going to drown,” one of the men I can’t see cries out. “The water is getting higher.”
That sets off several others, their high-voiced, rapid-fire chatter bouncing off the cave walls.
My heart tap-dances on the inside of my ribs, but even a pledge who ends up a lowly clerk learns a thing or two during training. Working through fear is one of those. So I close my eyes and think.
One thing is certain…something worse is coming, and we’re not going to be able to face it tied to posts.
26
Figure It Out
“The tide isn’t coming in.” Neve is telling this to herself, but I manage to catch the words. Her Canadian accent sounds thicker—maybe because of the danger. “It’s going out.”
I open my eyes to pay attention to the water. She’s right. It’s lower than when we first got here. Which means I need to work faster to get free. Right now, the water is holding some of my weight.
Tied up like this, I can’t reach anything in my vest, so using one of my tools to cut the ropes isn’t a possibility.
Movement to my left catches my eye, and I find Dex has managed to flip around and is climbing up his pole.
Damn, he figured that out fast. But I should also take his lead. My wrists may be bound, but my feet are not. I use the movement of the water to swing sideways and probably look like exactly what I am—a worm on a hook trying to wriggle off.
It takes me several tries, but eventually, I manage to hook one leg around the post, my rope twisting with me. I wait for the water to flow back out, then wrap my other leg around. The rough-barked wood posts clearly haven’t been in the water long because they aren’t slimy.
Leaning back, I wrap my hands around the rope, which is thin, but my gloves help with the grip. Using the rope and my thighs around the post, I start to climb. I’m able to use the lift of the swells when they roll by to help boost me for the first few scoots, but soon I’m above the waterline, a soggy, heavy mess, dragging my own waterlogged weight up the pole as my muscles scream.
Fuck. This was easier in my head than in reality.
“Look at them!” someone yells nearby.
Them? Out of the corner of my eye, I see Neve shimmying up her pole, only way better than me, and nearing the top. On my other side, Dex is already there. I’m not surprised about Neve, who strikes me as the independent, fuck-the-world type. Dex, either, really, who is tall but lean in the way wolves are in the winter, giving them a meaner edge.
“How did you do that?” someone else calls.
“Turn around and use your legs and the rope,” I shout back and slip a little from the effort.
Then I keep going, focused entirely on what I’m doing. One hand over the other, scoot the legs, try not to slip.
“Oh my gods,” Neve snarls off to my left. “Quit with the fucking humming.”
The noise cuts off in my throat. I seriously need to get that little habit back under control. When I finally make it all the way, I can’t figure out how to heft myself up to sit on the flat top. And I’m running out of strength quickly.
I force myself to focus. My wrists are still bound. Now that I have slack to look at the knots, I know I can’t undo them with my teeth. I need my relic to get free, but it’s in a zippered pocket at the small of my back.
I won’t be able to reach around.
I lose my grip and slide down the pole a few feet but manage to catch myself.
Think, damn it.
On either side of me, Neve and Dex, who I guess don’t have knives, are struggling to get on top of their poles. Dex has managed to pull himself up enough to lay over it on his stomach. Neve is breathing hard, her brows puckered in a ferocious scowl. A few others are making their way up now, too.
