Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) (24 page)

S
ERAFINA LOOKED AT ASTRID.
“What was
that
about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Astrid said brusquely. “It’s been real, merls. Good luck with it all.”

She tried to swim out of Vrăja’s study, but two armed frogs blocked her. They waited until she stopped shouting, then one of them spoke.

“Can you tell me what he said?” Astrid asked Ling.

“So sorry. I don’t speak Tĭngjŭ.”

“Tĭngjŭ? What does that mean? The guards don’t speak Tĭngjŭ. They speak Amphobos.”

Ling smiled tightly. “Tĭngjŭ means
jerk
. And I wasn’t talking about the guards.”

“Sorry,” Astrid said stiffly. “Can you
please
tell me what he said?”

“He said, ‘You will stay, as Baba Vrăja instructed. There is danger in the darkness. You will be safe here.
’
”

“Safe…yeah, sure,” Astrid muttered, looking pointedly at Serafina. “As long as I don’t eat anything.”

Serafina said nothing, but her fins flared.

A young river witch appeared and led the mermaids to a suite of rooms. One contained a round stone dining table and chairs, another beds. Two more witches brought food and the six mermaids sat down to eat a late supper. The food was simple, but fresh and delicious—salted frogs’ eggs, pickled water spiders, plump leeches in algae sauce, and a salad of marsh grass topped with crunchy water beetles.

Sera was quiet during the meal, overwhelmed the enormity of what she’d learned in Vrăja’s study, and what she’d witnessed in the Incantarium.

As she ate, she realized that everything she’d been taught about the origins of her people was a lie. Merrow had sought to protect the mer by wiping out all traces of the truth of their beginnings, but instead she’d left them dangerously vulnerable to the very evil she’d tried to defeat.

Merrow, the first regina, a mermaid so revered that in the minds of the mer that she was seen as infallible, had made a mistake. A big one. And now it was up to herself and five other teenagers to put it right.

Sera remembered the towering statue of her ancestor that had stood in the grounds of the palace. She saw herself, as she had been only weeks ago, looking up at Merrow. Looking up
to
Merrow. That merl, dressed in a beautiful silk gown, surrounded by Jani
ç
ari, protected from the cruelties of the world by her powerful mother, seemed so innocent and naive to her now, a child—one who’d lived in a world made for her, not by her. By decisions made for her. Under Merrow’s many decrees.

Part of Sera still felt like that child, and still longed for the strength and wisdom of her mother. But another, braver part realized that childhood was over and that she’d have to find her own way through this, just as she’d been finding her way ever since she’d fled Cerulea.

When everyone had finished eating, Ava fed the scraps to Baby. Serafina, Neela, and Becca cleared the dishes. Ling took out the letter tiles Lena had given her and started making words with them. Astrid pulled a caballabong ball out of her satchel, and started bouncing it against a wall, keeping up a steady
thwak thwak thwak
.

Neela cast a songspell to turn up the light in the dining room. Instead of brightening, though, the lava globes promptly dimmed.

“Oops,” she said, looking embarrassed.

“One who keeps the light!” Ling said, in a spooky voice.

“Descended from the great mage Navi!” Becca chimed in.

Serafina restored the light and everyone cracked up, including Neela. But the laughter was short-lived. Neela suddenly lowered her face into her hands, and said, “Oh, gods. It’s
not
funny. It’s so
not
. One who keeps the light?
Please
. What if we find the Carceron and instead of unleashing a frag on Abbadon, I dim the lights?”

“I know,” Ling said, rearranging her letter tiles with her good hand. “I’m worried about the same thing. I mean, how will my great powers of language help defeat the monster? What am I supposed to do? Reason with him?”

“Tell him to use his words,” Neela joked.

Ava, giggling at that, choked on her drink. Her noisy snarf made the others giggle too.

“You could tell him that bullying is totally unacceptable,” Becca suggested.

“Or that he needs to start making good choices,” Sera said.

“Tell Crabby Abby he’s going to sit on the naughty chair if he sinks one more island,” Astrid said, catching her ball.

The other five looked at her, astonished, then they all burst into loud, hysterical laughter and couldn’t stop. Becca laughed so hard, she snorted like a walrus. Serafina wheezed. Ava held her sides. Ling had tears in her eyes. Neela turned sky blue.

“Astrid, you’re funny,” Ling said when the laughter had subsided. “Who knew?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Astrid said, bouncing her ball again.

“Ah,
gatinhas
,” Ava said. “How do we do this? Where do we start?”

“Excellent questions,” Becca said.

“How do we find out what the talismans are? And where they are?” Neela asked.

“Before Traho does,” Serafina added.

“Who’s Traho?” Becca asked.

Serafina glanced at Astrid, searching her face for some telltale sign—a twitch, a widening of the eyes—that might betray her knowledge of this merman. But Astrid gave none. Either she truly didn’t know him or she was an excellent actress.

“Traho and the Ondalinians attacked Miromara,” Sera explained.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,” Astrid warned.

Sera ignored her. “They captured Neela and me and held us prisoner. Traho knows about the nightmare, the chant, and the Iele. He wanted the names of the other mermaids who’d been summoned. And he wanted to know if any of us had already found any talismans.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I didn’t know what he was talking about. Which didn’t go over well. He threatened to cut my fingers off, so I gave him fake names. Luckily, we escaped before he could check them out.”

“Does Traho know what the talismans are?”

“I think so. If he didn’t, he would have asked me. He only asked
where
they are.”

“But how could he know what they are? Not even the Iele know that,” Ling said, still concentrating on her letter tiles.

“Good point,” Sera conceded. “But he’s after them, so he
must
know.”

“Even if we were to find the talismans and get to the Southern Sea before this Traho does, we have no idea how to kill the monster,” Becca said.

“Because it can’t be killed. I’ll say it again: Merrow and her fellow mages couldn’t do it. What makes you think we can?” Astrid asked.

What’s she afraid o
f
?
Serafina wondered.
She fought Abbadon like a tiger shark. How can someone that tough be afraid of anything?

“It’s not question of
can
we,” Ling said. “You saw what that thing did to Atlantis. It’ll do it again if it gets out. We have to stop asking ourselves ‘Can we do this?’ and ‘Should we do this?’ There’s only one question we need to ask…
how
.”

Becca nodded. “Ling’s right,” she said. She pulled out the piece of parchment she’d written notes on earlier and looked it over. “We can’t do anything until we find the talismans.”

“True,” Ava said.

“So we have to backtrack. We have to progress logically from the fall of Atlantis, when the talismans were last used…”

Progress
. The word pushed at Serafina’s mind.
Why?
She turned the word over and over in her head, sensing that it was important somehow, but unable to grasp how it connected to Abbadon, the Carceron, or the talismans.

“…to the rise of Miromara, Merrow’s realm. Then we progress to…”

Progress…Merrow…

“Becca, that’s it!” Serafina shouted. “Her
progress
—Merrow’s Progress! You’re a genius!”

“I am?” Becca said, startled.

“Do you know what the talismans are, Sera? Or where Merrow hid them?” Ava asked.

“No, I don’t know the
what
or the
where
. I wish I did. But merls, I think I know the
when
.”

S
ERAFINA WAS SO EXCITED,
she was talking a million words a minute.

“I’m working on a term conch on Merrow’s Progress,” she said. “I mean I
was
working on it. Before Cerulea was attacked. I’ve spent hours in the Ostrokon—”

“Wait, Sera, slow down!” Ling said. “What’s a progress?”

Serafina explained. “Ten years after Atlantis was destroyed, Merrow made a journey throughout the waters of the world. She said she was scouting out safe places for the merfolk to live. Her people were thriving and she knew they would need more space than Miromara could offer. She took a handful of her ministers with her and a few servants. It was the
only time
in her entire reign that she left Miromara.”

“You think she was really hiding the talismans?” said Ava.

“I do.”

“Why wouldn’t she hide them in Miromara?” Astrid asked.

“Too risky. There were always courtiers around. Someone would have seen her,” Serafina said. “As I was saying, Cerulea’s Ostrokon has a large collection of conchs on Merrow’s Progress. I’ve listened to about twenty so far, but there are way more than that. Maybe one of them can tell us exactly where she went. And the most dangerous places she visited. That’s where she would’ve hidden the talismans.”

Astrid gave her a skeptical look. “But Merrow could’ve hidden the talismans anywhere.”

“I
know
that, Astrid. But it’s something. It’s a start,” Serafina said.

“Merls! Here’s another one!” Ling said, pointing at her letter tiles. “Look!” She’d spelled out three separate words:
shokoreth
,
a
pateón
, and
a
măgitor.

“Look at what? It’s all nonsense,” Astrid said.

“That’s what I thought, too. But they’re real words—words that Abbadon said. I thought it was just making monster noises. But it’s not. It’s talking. The first word is Arabic, the second Greek, the third Romanian. They all mean the same thing—
deceiver
.”

“Why would it say the same word over and over again, and in different languages?” Becca asked.

“I don’t know. These words here”—she pointed to another row of tiles—“
Daímonas t
i
s Morsa
—mean
demon of Morsa
.”

“Morsa’s an old goddess, right?” Ava said. “No one really talks about her.”

“She’s a seriously dark goddess,” Ling said. “The old myths say she was the scavenger goddess, and took the form of a jackal. It was the job of Horok, the ancient coelecanth god, to carry the souls of the dead to the underworld, and it was Morsa’s job to take away their bodies. But Morsa wanted more power, so she started practicing necromancy. She planned to make an army of the dead and overthrow Neria. Neria found out and was furious. She punished Morsa by giving her the face of death and the body of a serpent. Then she placed a crown of scorpions on her head and banished her.”

“Wow. That’s
cold
. Moral of the story? Never mess with Neria,” Neela said.

“There was a temple built to Morsa on Atlantis,” Serafina said.

“It might tell us more,” Becca offered. “If only we could get to it.”

“Fat chance. It’s surrounded by Opafago. They’d rip your head off before you got within five leagues of the place,” Astrid said.

“Why is that? I’ve always wondered. Why is it that a bunch of bloodthirsty cannibals was allowed to take over the ruins of Atlantis?” Neela asked.

“Because Merrow forced them into the Barrens of Thira, the waters around Atlantis,” Serafina explained. “The Opafago lived
in Miromara and hunted mer. Merrow wanted that stopped, so she used her acqua guerrieri to encircle them and herd them into the Barrens.”

“Merrow didn’t think that one through, did she?” Neela mused. “It’s the most important archaeological site to the mer, but because of the Opafago, we can’t even set fin in it.”

“I thought that, too,” Serafina said. “I thought it was just another one of her unfathomable decrees. Until Vrăja told us how Atlantis was really destroyed. According to historians, Merrow
said
she put the Opafago in the waters around Atlantis because she needed somewhere to put them and the ruins were…well, ruins, and useless. But now I think she settled the Opafago there on purpose. To prevent anyone from ever exploring them.”

“In case they learned the truth,” Ava said.

“Exactly. There are clues we need in those ruins, I’m sure of it. If only we could get to them,” Serafina said.

“The Opafago eat their victims alive, you know,” said Astrid. “While their heart’s still beating and their blood’s still pumping. The flesh is juicier that way.”

“What a ray of light you are,” Ling said. She got up from the table. “We can’t get to Atlantis, but we
can
observe Abbadon. And I’m going to do just that. First thing tomorrow. Ava saw that it hates light. I need to find out if it has other weaknesses. I got something out of it today.
Deceiver.
It’s not much. It’s not a talisman. But like Sera said, it’s a start.”

She yawned and told the others she was turning in. Becca, Neela, and Ava were right behind her. Sera didn’t join them. She wasn’t tired. She was busy thinking.

Astrid had gone back to bouncing her caballabong ball. “How are you going to do all this, Serafina? How are you going to get into your Ostrokon to listen to conchs when Cerulea’s occupied? How are you going to get into Atlantis? How are you going to kill Abbadon?”

“I don’t know yet, but maybe I can get help. If I can find my uncle, and my brother, they may have ideas. If my mother’s still alive—”

Astrid cut her off. “If, if, if,” she said. “This
isn’t
a start. It’s an end. You’re going to get yourself killed.” She glanced in the direction of the bedroom. “And you’re going to get
them
killed too. This whole thing’s a joke.” She threw her ball harder. “And here’s another one…me being a descendant of Orfeo’s, the greatest mage who ever lived.”

Astrid said those last words to herself, but Serafina heard them.
Why can’t she accept that Orfeo’s her ancestor? Is it because of what he did? Or is there more to it?
she wondered.

“Hey, Astrid…Baba Vrăja’s right, you know. Magic is what you make it. Just because Orfeo was evil doesn’t mean you are. Evil isn’t inherited. Like eye color or something.”

Astrid stopped bouncing her ball. She looked at Serafina. “It’s not that. I mean, having Orfeo in your family coral branch is
totally
lowtide, but…”

“But what?”

Astrid shook her head.

“Astrid, what is it?”

“Nothing. Really. Forget it.”

“Okay. Forgotten.”

Serafina, frustrated by Astrid’s unwillingness to talk, scooped the tiles Ling had left on the table into their bag. She picked up the stray cups and put them on a tray.

Astrid bounced her ball harder.

“It wasn’t us,” she said suddenly. She whirled around to face Serafina. The ball went flying across the room. “I want you to know that. Ondalina
didn’t
invade Miromara. We didn’t attack Cerulea. We didn’t send an assassin. My father would
never
do such a thing. He would never hurt Isabella or Bastiaan or the Matalis. He values them, and the peace between our realms, too highly. His own sister lives in Miromara. In Tsarno, as you know. He wouldn’t risk her life.”

Serafina weighed Astrid’s words, then she said, “He broke the permutavi, though. It’s been honored by both kingdoms for a hundred years. You were supposed to come to Miromara and Desiderio was supposed to go to Ondalina. Just like your aunt Sigurlin and my uncle Ludovico did at the last permutavi. Why did he break it?”

Astrid sat down across from Serafina. “There are reasons,” she said. “If you knew…if I could tell you…” Her hands, resting on top of the table, knotted into fists. Her long blond hair, pale as moonlight, swirled around her shoulders. Her ice-blue eyes sought Serafina’s. In them, Serafina could see a yearning to talk, to share what was troubling her.

“Astrid, seriously, Abbadon’s the enemy, you know? Not me. Not Miromara,” Serafina said, surprised by her own sudden desire to talk to this difficult merl. “We didn’t send any assassins either. The last thing my mother wants is war. Not for her people, not for yours. You said there were reasons why Ondalina broke the permutavi—what are they? Tell me.”

Serafina held Astrid’s gaze. For a few seconds, she was certain Astrid would confide in her. But instead of talking, Astrid brusquely pushed back her chair and rose.

“I can’t,” she said helplessly. “I just
can’t
.” She swam toward the bedroom. When she got to the door, she turned back to Serafina. “I’m sorry,” she said. And then she was gone.

Serafina looked at the empty space of the doorway. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Me too.”