Waterfire Saga, Book Four: Sea Spell: Deep Blue Novel, A (12 page)

The stench of decay swirled all around them. Ava tried to pass it off as just fallen cypress leaves rotting in the water. But the smell was so strong, it was like a living thing, moving all around her.

It’s them, the Okwa Naholo,
she thought grimly.
I’m getting closer.

The deeper Ava moved into the Spiderlair, the more strongly she could feel them. Ever since her visit to the Iele, and the bloodbind she’d sworn with her friends, her ability to sense things had grown. She could hear a lie in a voice now, no matter how hard the speaker tried to hide it. She could tell an ally from an enemy immediately. It was as if her heart had developed its own vision, one more penetrating than mere eyesight could ever be.

She’d seen the goodness in Manon Laveau, even though the swamp queen had tried hard to hide it. Ava understood why, though. Life in the swamps was dangerous, and sometimes a mer’s survival depended upon her ability to camouflage herself, her home, and her heart.

But goodness was not what Ava was sensing now.

An old farmer named Amos, who lived alone in a shack at the edge of the Spiderlair, had told her about the Okwa Naholo. He’d seen them. Not a full-on look—that would have killed him—but a glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

Amos had heard the legend that Native American terragoggs told of the Okwa Naholo, and he’d passed it on to Ava.

Centuries ago, a cruel Choctaw warrior named Nashoba bribed the night god to blanket the earth for half a year. Under the cover of darkness, Nashoba and his followers murdered their chief and enslaved their tribe. When the long night finally lifted, the sun god saw what Nashoba had done. He called upon his brother the wind to bind the murderers’ hands and push them into the swamp, where they drowned. To make sure they could never escape, the wind god whirled together cypress branches, swamp mud, and the bones and teeth of dead things to form giant spiders, and then placed them along the swamp’s banks.

Okwa Naholo meant
white people of the water
in Choctaw, Amos had told Ava, and over the centuries, the swamp had rotted away the warriors’ flesh, turning them into skeletons. But under each set of white ribs, a black, bloated heart beat on. It was those hearts, and the memories of the evil deeds they contained, that killed anyone who glimpsed the spirits.

“Go back, you dang fool child!” Amos had urged Ava. But she wouldn’t, so he’d packed her some food, given her his lucky gator foot, and then sent her on her way.

That had been a full day ago. Judging by the increasing strength of the horrible stench, Ava figured she was well into the Okwa’s waters now.

“You ready?” she whispered to Baby.

After the bloodbind, Ava had received some of Ling’s ability with languages. She’d immediately put her new talent to use by trying to reason with the little piranha, but since the noises Baby made were mostly yips, growls, and barks, it was difficult. He understood Ava, though—when it suited him.

“Remember to swim low,” she instructed him. “Get into the cypress roots as fast as you can, and whatever you do,
mano
, don’t look at them. They’re coming. Hurry!”

Baby circled Ava twice, nipped her ear—a sign of affection—and sped off.

“Great Neria, protect him,” Ava whispered.

The Okwa Naholo wouldn’t be able to see the little fish—that was something. Baby was invisible. At least, Ava hoped he was. Since she couldn’t see, she couldn’t be certain. She’d given him the transparensea pebble that Vrăja had given her. “Hold it in your mouth,” she’d advised him. He’d promptly swallowed it. Sighing, she’d cast the spell and hoped for the best.

Invisibility would help him, and so would his own bad vision. Piranhas’ eyes, Ava knew, were on the sides of their heads—which meant they could not see what was directly in front of them. That blind spot would keep him safe from any Okwa Naholo approaching head-on. Eventually, though, the spirits would surround her. Hopefully, Baby would be in the cypress roots by then and out of harm’s way. Once he’d found what she’d told him to look for, he’d have to close his eyes and navigate back to her by sound. That wouldn’t be too difficult, because piranhas had excellent hearing.

As soon as Baby was gone, Ava felt it—a wave of despair so strong, it made her sick. As nausea roiled in her stomach, she heard a voice.

“Are you lost, mermaid?” it asked.

The voice was kindly, but Ava sensed darkness under the sympathetic tone. It was the voice you heard on a deserted current when you’d swum too far or taken a wrong turn. When it was too late to turn back. To swim away. To scream for help.

Show no fear,
Ava told herself, turning to the thing that had spoken.

“You are
so
sweet for asking,
amigo
!” she trilled, pressing a hand to her chest. “I
am
lost. I’ve had a lovely little swim through the swamp, but now I’m trying to make my way back to the Gulf and I must’ve gone the wrong way, because here I am! But now you’ve come along. I mean, am I lucky or
what
?”

Ava was babbling madly. She needed to keep talking to give Baby time to find Nyx’s talisman. That was their plan.

Ava would distract the Okwa Naholo, and Baby would search for the ruby ring. Merrow had given the talisman to these spirits to make sure no one else could ever lay hands on it. No doubt the Okwa had hidden it well, but the deft little fish was perfectly suited to darting in and out of the twining cypress roots.

“Perhaps I, too, can help you find your way,” another voice offered.

“That would be awesome,
mano
!” Ava said. The stench of decay was so powerful now it nearly made her gag.

Come on, Baby!
she silently urged the piranha.
Where
are
you?

“I have a map here, but I think you’re going to need to take off your sunglasses to read it,” a third voice said silkily.

Ava feigned regret. “Sorry,
querida
, but that won’t do me any good. I can’t see your map. I’m blind as a barnacle. Perhaps you could, um…
tell
me the right direction?”

Where on earth is Baby?
she wondered frantically.
What if he
doesn’t
find the ring?

The temperature of the swamp water dropped again. The Okwa were angry. Ava could feel it. They kept talking, and though their words were still polite, their voices had an edge. More of them came. They moved closer to her. She started to lose her nerve, then remembered that their hands were bound.

As she burbled on, another deeper wave of despair hit her. It was followed by a jolt of panic. A wash of desperation. An avalanche of fear. She didn’t know where these feeling were coming from. As she struggled to cope with them, her words trailed away, and she started to see images in her mind. One was of a terragogg running away. Another was of a woman begging on her knees. A third showed a man screaming.

Ava’s breath caught as she realized that she was feeling exactly what Nashoba’s victims had felt and seen—right before he’d killed them. The Okwa Naholo couldn’t kill her through her eyes, so they were using her heart.

“Is there something wrong?” one of them asked, with sugary concern. “You’ve suddenly turned so pale!”

Ava couldn’t speak. The visions grew worse. It seemed as if she was witnessing the deaths of every one of Nashoba’s victims. Keening with grief, she sank slowly through the water. The thick ooze on the bottom of the swamp clutched at her. She no longer cared about the ring. She didn’t care if she lived or died. She only wanted the suffering to stop. She didn’t want to feel the victims’ pain and terror. She didn’t want to feel anything.

But she did. A piercing pain.

Not in her heart.

On her backside.

“O
W!”
AVA SCREECHED.

She heard growling. There was another pain, this time on her shoulder. It felt like tiny knives. Like…

“Baby!”
Ava breathed.

A bite on her arm brought her back to her senses. A harder one got her moving. With a cry, she wrenched herself free of the mud.

Nashoba and the other Okwa tried to enclose her in a circle. She could feel them all around her. Their black hearts beat loudly, and their voices thrummed in her head. Her hands scraped against their bones as she pushed her way through them, tearing ribs apart, knocking jaws off. Her powerful tail broke legs and spines.

And then she was high up in the water over them, swimming free. Their voices receded. The images faded.

Ava was sobbing with relief when she felt something jab her in the back. It was bristly and rough. It jabbed her again, then hooked her sleeve and pulled her to the surface.

“The spiders!” she cried.
“No!”

As her head broke the water, more bristly legs swiped at her, each tipped with a claw. The spiders were scurrying along the banks of the swamp, hoping to catch their dinner. Ava could hear them crashing through the vegetation. Sticky strands of spider silk trailed over her face. Screaming, she tried to pull her arm away. The spider’s claw ripped through her sleeve, freeing her. She dove back down into the water, her heart pounding. Baby, barking madly, zipped off. Ava followed the sound, swimming low and fast, and didn’t stop until she was well out of the Spiderlair. Then she sat down on a rock to catch her breath. She was lucky to be alive, and she knew it, but she was devastated. She hadn’t obtained the ring. Baby hadn’t had enough time to search for it. She’d blown her one chance; the Okwa Naholo wouldn’t give her another.

All along, she’d been telling herself that the gods had chosen her to get the ruby ring, and that this was why they’d taken her eyesight. What was she supposed to believe now? That she’d lost her vision for no reason at all? Could the gods be that cruel? And how would she tell the others that she’d failed? She couldn’t bear to disappoint them.

“What am I going to do?” she said aloud, a hitch in her voice.

She didn’t have an answer, but Baby did. He swam up to Ava and slapped his tail fins against her face.

“Oh!” she yelped, her hand going to her smarting cheek. “You
bad
fish! What are you
doing
?”

Baby did it again. Ava, furious, grabbed for him. Her hands closed on his little body and that’s when she felt it—the ring. He was wearing it on the narrow base of his tail. He must’ve found it, then somehow threaded his fins through the shank.

“Baby!” she shouted. “You
did
find it!”

The little piranha folded his fins together, and Ava carefully slipped the ring from his tail. As soon as it was off, Baby yipped and swam around in excited circles.

“Brave fish!” Ava said admiringly. She pulled the piranha to her and kissed him on the lips. Baby purred.

Ava then felt the ring with her fingers. The shank was heavy; the ruby was large, with many facets. She could feel the ring’s power radiating into her hand.

“We have to keep this safe,” she said, slipping it into a pocket inside her bag. Ava was exhausted from her ordeal and felt as if she could fall asleep right where she was, sitting on top of a cold hard rock. But she couldn’t allow herself to rest. Not yet. Only part of her task was complete. She’d secured the ring, yes, but now she had to get it to Sera, and it was a long way from the Mississippi River to the North Sea.

Groaning with fatigue, she rose. “Come on, Baby,” she said. “Let’s see if we can find Amos’s house again. We’re going to need food to get us through the next few days. Maybe he has some nice juicy swamp leeches to sell us, or some alligator eggs.”

As Ava and Baby put distance between themselves and the Spiderlair, Ava’s weariness disappeared, and her spirits lifted.

We did it!
she thought.
We actually got the ring.
Ava allowed herself to feel proud of her accomplishment. This
was
the reason the gods had taken her sight. They’d done it so she could go into the swamps and best the Okwa Naholo. Had she not been blind, she never would have survived them.

Ava and Baby didn’t have far to swim before they found themselves back at Amos’s. Baby saw the shack, took hold of Ava’s unripped sleeve, and pulled her toward it.

Ava was glad. “Maybe Amos will let us spend the night here,” she said. “Then we could get a fresh start in the morning.” The idea of a warm waterfire, a soft bed, and a good night’s sleep was very appealing.

Ava misjudged the location of the porch and bumped into the decking. She righted herself, then felt for the door.

“Amos?” she called out, pushing it open. The rusty hinges squeaked loudly. Amos had told her to go right on inside if she ever came calling again.
I’m always out workin’ in the back. Can’t hear ya knockin’
, he’d said.

“Amos?” Ava called again, swimming inside the tiny shack.

Baby growled low in his throat, then launched into a volley of barking.

“Baby? What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Ava heard a sharp yip of pain. And then nothing.

“Baby?” she called out, alarmed. “
Baby?
Amos, are you there? What’s happening?”

“Amos
isn’t
here, I’m afraid,” said a voice, startling her. “Ava Corajoso, I presume? At last we meet.”