“My choice,” he’d whispered to her. “Mine. Not theirs. I only hope that I’m yours, Serafina.”
At that, the bloodsong spiraled into the water and faded away, and with it went the past.
Thalassa looked at Serafina. “And you wonder if he loves you, you silly merl?” she asked.
“I never used to, Magistra,” Serafina said. She told Thalassa about the private conchs Mahdi had sent and how they’d suddenly stopped. “I’ve had only a few official communications over the last year. Nothing else. And now…” Her voice trailed off.
Thalassa cocked her head. “And now?” she prompted.
“And now he sounds like a very different merboy from the one I fell in love with. A riptide merboy with long hair and an earring, according to Tavia. And a merlfriend, according to Lucia,” Serafina said unhappily.
“Lucia would say anything to upset you. You know that. She would love nothing more than to see you fail today, so you must triumph instead. Come, let’s work on that trill again, and on the—”
They were interrupted by the sound of a door banging open.
“Serafeeeeeeeeeena!” a voice squealed.
Serafina spun around, startled. A mermaid floated in the doorway to the antechamber. She was wearing a yellow sari. Her glossy jet-black hair hung down to her tail fin. Her skin was glowing a pretty pale blue. She was flanked by servants, who were buckling under the weight of the gilded boxes, beribboned clamshells, and gossamer sacks they were carrying.
“Great Neria, who on earth—” Thalassa started to say.
But Serafina recognized the mermaid instantly. “Neeeeela!” she shouted, forgetting all her worries in the joy of seeing her best friend.
“Spongecake! There. You. Are!” Neela said. “I brought you soooooo many presents!”
The two mermaids swam to each other and embraced, whirling around and around in the water, laughing. Neela was bright blue now. She was a bioluminescent, like a lantern fish or a bobtail squid. A bewitching light emanated from her skin when her emotions ran high, or when other bioluminescents were near.
“Princess Neela, you’re not supposed to be here,” Thalassa scolded. “We’re right in the middle of songspell practice! How did you get in?”
“Tavia!” Neela said, grinning.
Thalassa frowned. “How many bags of bing-bangs did it take to bribe her this time?”
“Two,” Neela replied. “Plus a box of zee-zees.” She released Serafina, plucked a pretty pink box from a teetering pile, and swam to Thalassa. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Magistra, really. May I offer you a zee-zee?” she asked, opening the box.
“You may not,” Thalassa said sternly. “I know what you’re up to. You can’t bribe me with sweets.”
“A chillawonda, then? How about a kanjaywoohoo? You can’t say no to a kanjaywoohoo. And these are the very best. They take the palace chefs three full days to make. They have eight layers and five different enchantments,” Neela said, popping one of the sweets into her mouth. “Mmm! Krill with a caramalgae filling…sooo good! See?”
“What I see is that our minds are elsewhere at the moment.” Thalassa sniffed, taking a sweet from the box. “You cannot stay long, you know, Princess Neela. Only a minute or two. We really do have to practice.”
“Of course, Magistra. Only a minute or two,” Neela said.
Thalassa, mollified, sampled the sweet. “Oh. Oh, my. Is that curried kelp?”
Neela nodded. She handed her another. “Beach plum with comb jellies and salted crab eggs. It’s invincible.”
Thalassa bit into it. “Oh, that is good,” she said. “I suppose, perhaps half an hour’s break might be in order,” she said, her fingers hovering over the box.
Neela gave it to her. As Thalassa called to her cuttlefish servants to bring her a pot of tea, Neela grabbed Serafina’s hand, pulling her out of the antechamber and into a wide hallway with windows on both sides, all of which were open to let in fresh water.
“Tail slap, merl!” she whispered, closing the doors behind them. “My evil plan succeeded. I thought you could use a break from practice.”
“You thought right,” Serafina said, grinning.
“Uh-oh. Opafago at twelve o’clock,” Neela said.
It was no Opafago, but a palace guard swimming toward them.
“Your Grace? Is there something wrong? You shouldn’t be in the hallways unescorted,” the guard said.
Serafina groaned. Privacy, solitude, time alone with a friend. She dearly craved these things, but they were nearly impossible to find at the palace.
“Great whites at nine,” Neela whispered, nodding at the group of maids advancing with mops and buckets.
“Good morning, Your Graces, good morning,” the maids said, curtseying.
“A giant squid at six.”
That was Tavia. “Serafina? Princess Neela? Why are you floating around in the hallway like common groupers?” She bustled toward them, glowering.
“We’re surrounded, captain. I’m afraid there’s only one way out of here,” Neela said under her breath.
Serafina giggled. “You cannot be serious. We haven’t done that since we were eight years old. And even then we got into trouble for it.”
“I call Jacquotte Delahaye,” Neela said.
“You always call Jacquotte!” Serafina protested. “She’s the best pirate!”
“Don’t be such a baby. You can be Sayyida al Hurra.”
Neela swam to a window on the north side of the hallway. She narrowed her eyes at Serafina and said, “Abandon ship, chumbucket! Last one to the ruins is a landlubber!”
These were the exact words she’d said to Serafina when they were little, pretending to be pirate queens, and challenging each other to a race.
Serafina swam to a window on the south side. “Eat my wake, bilge rat!”
“One…two…three!” the mermaids shouted together.
A split second later, Serafina and Neela dove out the palace windows and were gone.
DETERMINED TO WIN THE RACE, Neela swooped around a spire, then dove. Hurtling down through the water, she shot under an archway, startling the Matali dignitaries coming the opposite way, and made for the ruins of Merrow’s reggia. She was swimming way too fast, but she didn’t care. It felt wonderful to slice through the water, to feel powerful and free.
Serafina had zipped around a turret and under a bridge and was now gaining on her. Neela put on a burst of speed, but Serafina caught up. They touched the front wall of the old palace—as much of it as was still standing—at the same time, then collapsed on a pile of red coral weed, laughing and out of breath.
“Beat you!” Neela shouted.
“You did not! It was a tie,” Serafina said.
“Yeah, except that I won.”
“I can’t believe we dove out of windows. We’re in so much trouble.”
Neela knew as well as Serafina did that swimming out of windows was bad form. Civilized mer came and went through doors. Aunt Ahadi would not be pleased.
“Yeah, we probably are, but it was worth it,” she said, pulling two sweets from her pocket. “Here—purple sponge with pickled urchin. So good, you have no idea. Better than boys.”
“That good?” Serafina said, taking the sweet.
“Mmm-hmm,” Neela said, biting into hers. She was eating too many sweets. She did that when she was nervous. Like now. Sera was going to ask about him. That was a given. What on earth would she tell her?
Neela stretched out on the soft coral weed and stared up at the sun-dappled waters. “It’s so good to finally be here,” she said. “The trip was totally nerve-racking. The dragons we rode spooked at every guppy. The sea elephants carrying our trunks bolted twice. I couldn’t sleep, because I was having bad dreams the whole time.”
“Really? What kind of dreams?” Serafina asked.
“I can’t even remember now,” Neela said. She did remember, but she didn’t want to talk about them. They were silly. “And Uncle Bilaal was seriously f
reaking out about Praedatori. He expected Kharkarias, their leader, to jump out at every turn. Even though he doesn’t even know what Kharkarias looks like, since no one’s ever seen him.”
“You weren’t attacked, were you?” Serafina asked.
“No, we were fine. We had lots of guards with us. But I was so glad to see the spires of Cerulea last night, I can’t even tell you.”
“I’m really happy you’re here, Neela,” Serafina said. “I can’t imagine going through the Dokimí without you.”
Sera hadn’t asked about him yet. Good. Maybe she could keep it that way. “How’s the songspell? Are you nervous? What are you wearing?” Neela asked.
“Not great. Very. I don’t know,” Serafina said.
Neela sat up, startling some curious needlefish who’d come close. “You don’t know what you’re wearing? How can you not know? Hasn’t the Dokimí been planned for years?”
“My dress is a gift from Miromara. The best craftsmer in the realm work on it. Only my mother sees it in advance. And anyway, it’s not about the dress,” Serafina said.
“It’s always about the dress.”
“I’m casting a songspell, not competing in a beauty contest. This is serious, you know.”
“Merlfriend, nothing is more serious than a beauty contest. Life is beauty contest. At least that’s what my mother always says,” Neela said. “I can’t wait for you to see what I’m wearing. It’s totally invincible. It’s a dark pink sari—the wrap is sea silk, but the top and skirt are made of thousands of tiny Anomia shells stitched onto tulle. I wanted it to be royal blue, but my aunt insisted on pink. I made it myself.”
“You did not.”
“I did. I swear it. But shh, don’t tell anyone. You know how it is in Matali. Gods forbid a royal should actually work at anything,” Neela said unhappily.
“Trouble with your parents?” Serafina asked, her eyes full of concern.
“That’s an understatement. We fought about it for weeks. Major drama. I bet I ate twenty boxes of zee-zees. In one day.”
Neela’s dream was to become a designer, but her parents wouldn’t allow that. Or anything else. She was a Matalin princess and Matalin princesses were to dress well, look decorative, and one day marry—and that was all. Neela wanted so much more, though. Color made her heart beat faster. Fabric came alive in her hands. She had passion and talent and she wanted to use them.
Serafina took her hand. “I’m sorry, Neels.”
“Oh, well. I can’t ever be a designer, but I can pretend.”
“You are a designer,” Serafina said, suddenly fierce. “Designers design. That’s what you did. And it doesn’t matter who likes it and who doesn’t.”
Neela smiled. Sera was as loyal as a lionfish, quick to defend those she loved. It was one of the many reasons Neela adored her.
“I just hope Alítheia doesn’t like pink. I don’t want her thinking I look like a large and tasty zee-zee,” said Neela. “Is it true she’s ten feet tall?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, like…why?”
“Quia Merrow decrevit.”
“Why the long, tortuous songspell?”
“Quia Merrow decrevit.”
“Why a betrothal at sixteen? That’s totally dark ages. Wait…don’t tell me. Let me guess.”
“Quia Merrow decrevit.”
“But Merrow decreed it, like, forty centuries ago, Sera. The tides have come in and gone out a few times since then, you know?”
“I do. Believe me, Neela, I’ve listened to so many conchs on Atlantis and Merrow for various courses, and I still haven’t figured out why she made all her weird decrees. The whole Dokimí thing is barbaric and backward. It’s from a time when life expectancy was short and principessas had to be ready to rule at a young age,” Serafina said. “The weirdest thing is, this ceremony declares me an adult, fit to rule, and yet I have no more idea about how to rule Miromara than I have about flying to the moon. I can’t even rule my own court.” She sighed heavily.
“What? What’s wrong?” Neela asked, her eyes searching Sera’s.
“My court,” Serafina said, making a face. “There’s this one merl….Her name’s Lucia…”
“I remember her,” Neela said. “The last time I was here, my skin had just started to glow. She told me I looked like fog light. In the nicest possible way, of course.”
“That sounds like Lucia,” Serafina said. “Neela, she said some things, about Mahdi.”
Oh, no, Neela thought. Time to change the subject. “Hey, you know what? Let’s swim,” she said. “Why don’t we head into the ruins? Stretch our tails? We can talk as we go.”
Neela pulled Sera up from the coral weed and they set off, swimming, through what had once been a doorway. Time had crumbled its ancient arch. The walls of the old palace had tumbled down, and the roof along with them. Anemones, corals, and wrack had colonized the mosaic floors. In what had once been Merrow’s Grand Hall, soaring blue quartz pillars still stood, hinting at lost glories.
“You should see the ruby necklace I’m wearing tonight. It’s my mother’s. It’s completely invincible,” Neela said as they swam together. She was babbling, desperate to keep the conversation from veering back to Mahdi.
“How are your parents?” Serafina asked.
“Great! Fabulous! They send their best and wish they could be here. But somebody has to hold down the fort in Uncle Bilaal’s absence.”
“And how are the emperor and empress? And your brother…and Mahdi?”
“Truly excellent. Although I haven’t seen them yet today. We got in around eight last night. I was so tired, I went straight to my room and fell into bed. Everyone else did the same.”
“Neela…”
“Oh! Did I tell you about the last state visit we all made? Ha! It’s such a funny story!” Neela said. She launched into all the details.
Serafina wasn’t really listening, though. “So, um, how’s Mahdi?” she finally broke in.
Neela’s heart sank. Her smile slipped.
Serafina stopped swimming. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Neela said brightly. “Mahdi’s fine.”
“He’s fine? My great-aunt Berta is fine. What are you not telling me?”
Neela pulled another sweet from her pocket. “Oh, super yum. Candied flatworm with eelgrass honey. Try it!” she said.
“Neela!”
“Well, he’s probably a little bit different from what you remember,” she said. “I mean, the last time you saw him was two years ago. We’re all different than we were then.”
“Look, I know you’re his cousin,” Serafina said. “But you’re also my friend. You have to tell me the truth.”
Neela sighed. “All right, then—here it is: his royal Mahdiness seems to be going through a phase. At least, that’s what Aunt Ahadi calls it. She blames it all on Yazeed.”
“Your brother? What does he have to do with it?”
“Yaz is a total party boy. Always the one with the lampfish on his head. My parents are at their wits’ end and Aunt Ahadi is furious. She says he’s led Mahdi astray. The two of them are out all the time. It started about a year ago. That’s when they got their ears pierced. Aunt Ahadi went through the roof. She and my mother threatened to beach them for life.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Mahdi I remember,” Serafina said, nervously fiddling with some trim on her dress. “Neels, I have to ask you something else. Lucia said that—”
Neela unwrapped another sweet and bit into it. She made a face. “Yuck. Fermented sea urchin.” She fed it to a passing damselfish.
“—she said that Mahdi has a merlfriend. She said he—” Serafina suddenly stopped speaking.
Neela, busy wiping her fingers on a frond of Caulerpa weed, looked up. That’s when she saw them. Bodies. Of two young mermen. They were stretched out under a huge coral at the back of the courtyard, motionless.
Serafina panicked. “I—I can’t tell if they’re breathing or not. Nee
la, we have to get help. I think they’re dead!” she said, swimming closer.
Neela panicked too, but for a totally different reason. “No, they’re not dead,” she said under her breath. “But if Aunt Ahadi hears about this, they’re going to wish they were.”
NEELA CAUGHT UP to Serafina and grabbed her arm. “Come on!” she said, trying to pull her away from the mermen. “This is dangerous. We should get the palace guards.”
“But what if they’re hurt or bleeding? We can’t just leave them!”
“Yes, we can. We totally can.”
Serafina broke free of Neela’s grip and swam back to the bodies. “They’re not dead! They’re breathing and…oh. Wow. Didn’t expect that.”
Neela closed her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose. How could they be so stupid? she wondered. How?
“Um, Neela? It’s Mahdi…”
“…and Yazeed,” Neela said.
She looked down at them. The two merboys were lying on their backs. Mahdi had a purple scarf tied around his head and smudged lipstick kisses on his cheek. A gold hoop dangled from one ear. His black hair was pulled back in a hippokamp’s tail. Yaz was wearing a pair of sparkly earrings. Someone had drawn a smiley face on his chest with lipstick. He had a streak of pink in his cropped black hair, a heavy gold chain around his neck, and a tattoo on his arm. As she continued to stare at them, a large, homely humphead wrasse swam up to Yaz. It nudged his chin. Yaz flung an arm around it, pulled it close, and kissed it. As Mahdi snored on, Yazeed murmured compliments to the fish about her beautiful blond hair.
Neela, livid, gave each boy a hard slap with her tail.
“Ow!” Mahdi cried.
“Dang, merl!” Yaz yelped, letting go of the fish. “All I said was…Neela?” He blinked at his sister.
Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) Page 5