Waterfire Saga, Book Four: Sea Spell: Deep Blue Novel, A (28 page)

Fossegrim had also been knocked down. Alítheia was on her back, legs clawing at the air.

With much clanking and pounding, she righted herself, then scurried to the iron grille that covered the entrance to her den. Sera helped Fossegrim up, and they both followed her.

“What
was
that?” Sera asked. “What’s happening?”

“I wish I knew, child,” Fossegrim replied weakly.

The three looked out of the grille. Almost immediately, Alítheia drew back. “There isss much light,” she said fearfully. “Which meansss much lava.”

As Fossegrim, still dazed from the explosion, sank back down to the den’s floor, Sera hooked her fingers through the bars of the grille and angled her body this way and that, trying to get a better view. She saw more bursts of light. Heard more explosions, as well as screams and shouts, bellowed orders, the neighing of hippokamps, the blood-curdling roar of dragons.

Her head was still swimming. The noise, the light—none of it made any sense.

And then it did.

“Great Neria,” she whispered, stunned. “It’s
them
.”

“Sera, what do you see?” Fossegrim called up to her.

She released the iron bars and swam down. “Fossegrim, we’ve got to get out here.”

“Do you know what’s happening?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

Sera nodded. “I do,” she said, helping the old merman up. “The battle for Cerulea has begun.”

“T
HIS IS
NOT
WISE, Serafina,” Fossegrim cautioned breathlessly. “You should stay in the spider’s den. At least wait to see how the Black Fins fare before you venture into the fray. What happens if Vallerio bests them and you’re taken?”

“I can’t do that, Fossegrim,” Sera said. “This is my fight. I need to be with my Black Fins, win or lose.”

Sera and Fossegrim were hurrying down a tunnel that led from Alítheia’s lair to the palace’s dungeons. The spider was leading the way, her bronze feet crunching the bones that littered the floor.

“Alítheia, if there’s an exit, why haven’t you ever used it?” Sera asked.

“Because the tunnel narrowsss asss it getsss clossse to the palace,” the spider had explained. “Alítheia isss too big. Ssshe hasss tried to fit through. Many timesss.”

Even though she was frantic to join her fighters, Sera heard the sadness in the spider’s voice, and her heart hurt at the thought of the lonely creature futilely trying to squeeze through the tapering tunnel.

As the three continued down the passage, Fossegrim asked, “What happens when we arrive at the dungeons? How will we evade the guards?”

“That shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Sera replied. “With Cerulea under attack, most of the guards won’t be at their posts.”

“How do you know that?”

Sera smiled grimly. “I know my uncle. I know how he thinks. He’ll have ordered most of the guards to leave the dungeon to defend the palace. Fossegrim, you said you were in the dungeons for quite some time. Who was with you?”

“Political prisoners.”

“Criminals, too?”

“No,” he replied with a bitter laugh. “The criminals are all in the palace, not the dungeons. Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to need some help. I might be able to unlock Alítheia’s grille, but I’ll never be able to lift it by myself.”

Fossegrim’s eyes lit up. “Do you have a plan?”

“I do. I’ll tell you all about it when we get out of here.”

The tunnel started to narrow, then it abruptly angled toward a thin doorway.

“There are the dungeonsss,” the spider said, pointing ahead. “Alítheia can go no farther.”

“Thank you for getting us here, Alítheia,” said Sera. “Thank you for listening to me, for trusting me. As soon as I can, I’ll come back for you.”

The anarachna looked away. Sera could tell that she didn’t believe her. She swam up, so that she was level with the spider’s eyes.

“Alítheia, look at me,” she said, taking the creature’s face in her hands. “Wait for me by the grille. I
will
come for you. I swear on my crown that I’ll set you free.”

“You mussst win back that crown before you can sssweear upon it,” the spider said solemnly, delicately touching a claw to Sera’s cheek. “And Lucia will not let you. Ssshhe is very ssstrong.”

“Love is stronger,” Sera said. “And love will win, Alítheia.”

“Once, perhapsss. But not now. In thisss realm, evil hasss vanquissshed love.”

Another huge explosion rocked the stone tunnel. A chunk of the ceiling fell to the floor, narrowly missing Sera and sending up a cloud of silt.

“Go, Ssserafina,” the spider said.

“Alítheia—”

“
Go.
Before you are crussshed.”

Sera nodded. She hurried Fossegrim through the doorway, then followed him.

Alítheia watched them go, blinking her many eyes. Then, her head low, she turned and made her way back to her den.

S
ERA CAMOED HERSELF to blend in with the dungeon’s floor and swam low until she reached a window. Then she raised herself slightly to look through it.

It was the guards’ room, hollowed into the rock. Its front wall was made of thick, shatterproof glass that allowed the guards to see out into the corridor.

Just as she’d thought, only a skeleton crew was on duty. There were three guards total, one slim, two brawny, talking among themselves.

“If this place starts to cave in, I’m gone,” one said. “I’m not going to be here when the ceiling crashes down.”

“What about the prisoners?” the second guard asked.

“They can fend for themselves. No one cares if they live or die anyway.”

Sera cased the room, making note of where the keys to the cells were kept, and the weapons. As she returned to Fossegrim, another explosion rocked the palace. The creaks and groans that followed, and the spidery cracks that appeared in the walls, upset the prisoners. Sera could hear them calling to one another from their cells.

“What’s happening?”

“A chunk of the hallway just crumbled!”

“We’re going to be crushed!”

“There are three guards,” Sera informed Fossegrim. “You’ve got to get them all to come out. Are you sure you can do it?” she asked. He looked so weak and so pale to her.

Fossegrim smiled. The light of defiance burned in his eyes. “Watch me,” he said.

Sera nodded, then she returned to the guard room. This time she swam along the ceiling, hoping they would be so preoccupied readying themselves to leave that they wouldn’t look up.

When she was in position, she gave Fossegrim the thumbs-up. He returned the signal, lay down on the dungeon floor, then started yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Help! Help me! Oh, gods, don’t make me go back!”

Two of the guards were out of the room and down the hall almost immediately.

“Please! Help me! The spider bite…it’s so painful! It’s killing me!” Fossegrim shouted, pretending to writhe in agony.

“How did he get out?” one of the guards asked.

“Hey, you!” his partner shouted. “Hands on your head!”

“The tunnels…they collapsed and crushed the spider,” Fossegrim said. “I escaped, but she lashed out…she bit me…help me!”

Sera could see the third guard. He was busy loading a crossbow.

The plan would never work unless he followed the others.
Go!
she silently urged him.

As if he’d read her mind, Fossegrim started thrashing violently. He whacked one guard in the stomach with his tail fins and punched the other in the head. His strategy worked.

“Leo!” one of them yelled. “Get out here now! Bring the stinger!”

The third guard swore. He put his crossbow down and grabbed a barbed stingray’s tail, used for immobilizing unruly prisoners. As soon as he was out of the room, Sera swam in. She grabbed a sword scabbarded in a chain-mail belt and quickly buckled it around her waist, then picked up the guard’s crossbow. Next, she snatched a ring of keys off one wall, then raced back down the corridor to Fossegrim.

“On the ground! Now!” she shouted, as she came up behind the guards.

“What the—?” one guard said. He turned around, saw Sera, and rushed toward her.

She fired the crossbow. Her aim was true. The guard never knew what hit him.

“On the ground, I said! Hands on top of your heads!”

The remaining two guards quickly complied.

“Fossegrim, open that door,” Sera said, nodding to the cell on the merman’s left. She tossed him the ring of keys. He caught them with his gnarled hands, and a few seconds later, he was pushing on the door.

“Take your key rings off your belts, thrown them down, and swim into the cell,” Sera ordered.

The guards did as they were told. Fossegrim quickly pulled the door closed and, with some difficulty, locked it. He picked up the key rings.

The prisoners were more frightened than ever now. Their frantic calls echoed down the corridors.

“Prisoners, listen to me! This is Serafina di Merrovingia, your rightful regina!”

The shouting stopped.

“The noises you hear are the sounds of battle!” Sera shouted. “The Black Fins, my troops, are here. They’re fighting for the city! Join us!”

“No! Don’t go! Stay in your cells!” a frightened voice called out. “It’s a trick!”

“Vallerio wants to find out who’s loyal and who isn’t!” another yelled.

“Please don’t hurt us,” begged a third, miserably.

Sera pressed her hands to her cheeks. She was devastated. She’d expected a joyous reaction to the offer of freedom, to the chance to fight those who’d imprisoned them. But these merfolk had been so badly brutalized, they believed this was just another cruel ploy on her uncle’s part to extract information.

Summoning all her magic, Sera songcast the brightest, most beautiful illuminata she ever had. Its glow reached the dungeon’s darkest corners.

“Good people of Miromara, come to your doors!”

Sera heard groaning, shuffling, the sound of chains dragging over stone. Fingers, their nails black with grime, curled around bars. Frightened faces appeared.

“I am Serafina, your regina! This isn’t a trick!”

“Serafina! It’s Serafina! It’s her!” voices called out excitedly.

A few prisoners reached for her through the bars, but others shied away, pointing at her.

“Weapon…a death rider…kill us…” they whispered.

Sera realized she was still carrying a loaded crossbow. It was scaring some of the prisoners. She quickly put it on the floor.

“Sera…child,
don’t
!” Fossegrim warned. “They’re angry and afraid. They could lash out. Protect yourself!”

Sera shook her head, determined. “Citizens of Cerulea, hear me! I have laid my weapon down, and I’m going to unlock your cells. Do with me what you will. I would rather die at your hands than rule without your trust!” she declared.

As her words rang out, bouncing off the hard stone walls, Sera started opening doors. Fossegrim hesitated, then followed her lead, cursing at his broken fingers. One by one, the prisoners swam out, scared, unsteady, wincing at the bright light. Some were crying, others laughing. Some regarded Sera warily, others hugged her and kissed her hands.

She kept going, opening doors, releasing her mer. Fossegrim, his maimed hands hurting, gave the extra key ring he had to a mermaid, and she started freeing prisoners, too.

When all the cell doors had been opened, Sera turned to her merfolk.
Will they be with me?
she wondered. After all they’d been through, she wouldn’t blame them if they swam away and hid.

“Ceruleans, I need your help. We must defeat my uncle.
Tonight.
Your lives, my life, and the future of Miromara hang in the balance. Will you fight with me?”

A cheer rose. It grew louder and louder.

“We are with you, Serafina! Tell us what to do!” a mermaid cried.

The mermaid was little more than a skeleton. Her eyes were sunken. Her cheeks were hollow. Yet she spared no thought for herself. Sera’s eyes filled with tears. She quickly blinked them back.

“There are weapons in the guards’ room,” she said. “Arm yourselves and follow me. I am honored to have you by my side!”

Another cheer rose, and the prisoners mobbed the guards’ room. They scrambled for crossbows, spearguns, clubs, stingers, and anything else they could find. Sera saw one emerge with a paperweight in his hand. Another was brandishing a mug.