They’d all only just made it out. An alarm had gone up as they were escaping, and soldiers had spread out in all directions, torches blazing. The mermaids and their mysterious rescuers had swum over a huge coral reef, hiding themselves on the other side. One of the mermen had poked his head up, a pair of binoculars in hand, to see how many were giving chase.
“Forty, at least,” he’d said. “On hippokamps.”
“Quick, give me something. Each of you. A belt, a piece of cloth, anything,” Verde had ordered.
When Thalassa asked why, he tore a sleeve off her gown. Neela quickly gave him her underskirt. Serafina tore off a chunk from her hem. As she did, she heard the sound of baying.
“What is that?” she’d asked, frightened.
“Hound sharks. Big, ugly, and good at tracking,” Verde’d replied, tying the items together. Another merman, tall and rangy with a golden tail, took the bundle.
“They’ll know we’re heading to the Lagoon,” Verde told him. “But they won’t know which current we’re taking. Swim due north with this bundle, then cut over to the Lido inlet. We’ll head west, then loop over on the alta flow to Chioggia. Once we’re in the Lagoon itself, the hounds will lose the scent. Meet us at the palazzo.”
The merman nodded and shot off.
“We’re going to move fast now. Very fast. Keep up,” he’d said to the rest. “If we don’t make Chioggia before Traho’s riders figure out what we’ve done, it’s all over.”
No one had said a word until Thalassa had started to gasp. Serafina begged them to slow down to let her rest, but they wouldn’t. Two of them took her arms and helped her along. They kept moving until she could barely breathe at all, until Serafina had shouted at them to stop.
Serafina stretched now, first her back, then her tail, trying to ease her sore muscles. As she stretched her arms, she looked at her hands. Her beautiful rings had been stolen. All but the little shell heart Mahdi once made for her. Had he survived the attack? Had Yazeed? She wondered if she’d ever see either of them again.
Serafina slid the ring off her finger. It was so simple and innocent that just looking at it hurt. It reminded her of everything she’d lost. Mahdi. Her parents. Cerulea. Her entire life.
“You belong to another Sera, not to me,” she whispered. She threw the ring away, watching as it sank through the water until she couldn’t see it anymore. Then she buried her face in her hands.
A minute later, a voice said, “Are you okay?” It was Blu. He sat down beside her.
“Yeah, I’m great. Never better,” she replied, lowering her hands.
“We’re not so far from the Lagoon now. We’re going to make it. You’ll be safe there.”
Serafina laughed bitterly. “Safe? I’m not sure I know what that means anymore, Mr. Blu.”
“Just Blu is fine. And Grigio. And Verde. We don’t swim on ceremony. What’s wrong with your tail?” he asked, pointing at it. “It’s bleeding.”
“Eel bite.”
“You need to wrap it so that there’s pressure against the wound. Otherwise it won’t stop.”
He put his hands under the end of her tail and gently raised her fins, peering at the bite. The eel’s teeth had torn a long, jagged hole in the soft tissue.
“This is a mess,” he said.
Serafina blushed. She wasn’t used to strange mermen touching her tail.
“Um, I’m fine. Really,” she said, trying to pull away from him.
“Sorry, but this is no time for modesty. We can’t have you bleeding into the water with hound sharks after us.” He lowered her fins, then tore a wide strip from the bottom of her gown.
“Hey!”
“You have a first-aid kit that I’m not aware of?”
“No, but—”
“Then this is the best we’ve got,” he said, tearing off two more strips.
He wadded up one strip and packed it against the bite. Then he wound another around her fin, securing the dressing. He worked quickly and expertly. Serafina watched as he carefully wrapped the third strip around the end of her tail, then over the dressing, tying it in such a way that it wouldn’t slip off. His skin was light brown and smooth; his chest and arms were muscular. His hair had streaks of pure gold in it. He glanced up at her once and she saw that his eyes were the same deep blue as his tail. They met her gaze and held it. She looked away before he did, blushing again.
“There,” he said when he’d finished. “It’s not ideal, but it should hold you until we get to the Lagoon.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Not just for the bandage,” she said. “For saving us. I hope you’ll tell me who you are. When I’m back in Miromara and all of this—”
Blu cut her off. “That’s not going to happen. The city’s in ruins. The invaders control it. The dead are piled up in the squares. They…they can’t even bury them….”
He stopped talking and swallowed. Hard.
“Did you lose someone?”
“My parents,” Blu said tersely.
Serafina instinctively took his hand. “I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing it.
He squeezed back. “Thanks,” he said softly. “You can’t go back there. Promise me you won’t.”
“I have to go back. It’s my city.”
“Not anymore. It’s Traho’s now. He’s been going through it current by current, interrogating people.”
“What people?”
“Nobles. Courtiers. Servants. Grooms. Anyone who might’ve had contact with you. Anyone he suspected of hiding you. If they didn’t give him information, he had them executed.”
“Those poor people,” Serafina said, heartsick. “They died because of me.”
“No, they died because of Traho,” Blu said firmly.
She looked down and realized she was still holding his hand. What was she doing? He was a total stranger. “I should go. I need to check on Thalassa,” she said awkwardly, then swam off.
Thalassa’s face was still deathly pale. She was sitting very still, with her eyes closed. Neela shook her head in response to Serafina’s unspoken question.
A minute later, Blu joined them. “We can’t stay here much longer,” he said. “We have to—”
“Praedatori!” a voice, harsh and ringing, called from outside the cave. “I have one of yours! Give me the mermaids and I’ll let him live!”
“Praedatori?” Serafina repeated, stunned. She turned to Blu. “You’re outlaws?”
“According to some,” he said.
Serafina remembered Neela telling her that Bilaal had been worried about attacks from the Praedatori during their journey.
“Is that why you helped us? So you can ransom us to the highest bidder?” she asked accusingly. “We trusted you! And you betrayed us!”
“Think about that for a minute,” Blu said. “The highest bidder in this scenario would be Traho, right? We took you from him, remember?”
Sera was still leery. “Then where are you taking us? To your leader? To Kharkarias?”
“Yes,” Blu said.
“What does he want with us?”
“To help you.”
Sera looked into Blu’s eyes, searching for the truth. She wanted to trust him, but she was afraid. She had trusted Zeno Piscor and ended up as Traho’s prisoner.
Grigio appeared. “Trouble. Big-time,” he said.
Blu swam back outside. Serafina and Neela followed him. On the flats below were mermen on hippokamps, carrying torches. In their light, Serafina could see huge gray fish—hound sharks—circling. One of the riders moved forward. He was dragging something behind him. As he swam out in front of the others, Serafina could see what it was. Or rather, who: the merman who’d swum off earlier to lure the hound sharks away.
“Praedatori!” their leader called out. “Bring me the mermaids or I’ll kill the boy!”
Serafina started for the flats. Blu grabbed her arm.
“Let me go! I won’t be
the cause of anyone else’s death!” she said.
“Don’t be stupid. He’s already dead,” Verde said.
“No, he’s not! He’s alive! He’s right down there!”
“The minute I hand you over, the riders will kill him, me, and all my men.”
“Why is he bargaining with us?” Neela asked. “Why hasn’t he attacked? They totally outnumber us.”
“Because he’s afraid. As well he should be. He knows I no longer have an iron collar around my neck.”
It was Thalassa, slowly making her way toward them.
“Magistra!” Serafina exclaimed. “Oh, thank gods! Traho’s soldiers are below. We have to go. Can you swim?”
Thalassa shook her head. “I am the canta magus of Miromara, not some sneak thief scuttling off into the night. It’s high time the sea scum chasing us learned that.”
She and Verde looked at each other. Something passed between them. An understanding.
“You could put a giant vortex behind us,” he said. “Or a silt storm.”
“Child’s play.” Thalassa sniffed. “I’ll do better.”
“A vortex would hold them off,” Serafina said excitedly. “We’re not far from the Lagoon, Magistra. We can make it now that you’ve caught your breath.”
“I can give you thirty minutes, possibly a bit longer,” Thalassa said, still talking to Verde. “Swear to me you’ll get them to safety.”
Verde nodded. “On my life,” he said.
And then Serafina understood. They were leaving, but Thalassa was not.
“No, Magistra,” she said frantically. “No!”
“Serafina…” Thalassa said.
“You can’t stay behind. You can’t!” said Serafina, choking back a sob. “You’re all I have left of Miromara.”
Thalassa cupped Serafina’s cheek with her good hand. “And you, child, are all Miromara has left,” she said.
Thalassa’s words hit her hard. She hadn’t had much time to think about what was going to happen, only what had happened already. But what Thalassa said was true: the city of Cerulea had fallen, her mother was a prisoner—if she was even still alive. Her father was dead. She had no idea what had happened to her uncle. Or if her brother was still at the western borders. That meant that she was her realm’s only hope.
“I can’t do this, Magistra. I don’t know how.”
“Never forget what I told you. Show what’s in your heart and all hearts will be with you,” Thalassa said. She hugged Serafina tightly, and then let her go.
Serafina would go to the Lagoon. Because she had to. She had to stay alive. She couldn’t help her people if she was taken. And Thalassa would stay here. Because she had to. She would rather die protecting Serafina than be the reason she was captured.
“We have to go,” Verde said.
Serafina shook her head, her eyes still on Thalassa.
“Not yet. Please.”
Thalassa swam out of the cave. She looked down at the riders for a few seconds, as if taking their measure, then she lifted her head and started to sing. Everyone stopped still, spellbound. Serafina, Neela, Blu, even Verde. No one said a word. Thalassa was battered and bloodied, she was facing certain death, and yet she had never sounded more magnificent. Her voice was the sound of the sea itself—the whirl and crash of breakers, the howl of a gale, the roar of a tsunami.
She pulled wind down into the water and spiraled giant vortexes one after another, until she’d raised a wall of spinning typhoons. She was no longer a mere mermaid. She was a storm system, a category five. And she was bearing down on the enemy.
“Serafina,” Blu said gently.
Sera nodded. She would leave now. She would swim away hard and fast. With the sound of Thalassa’s voice forever in her head. Forever in her heart.
FACES LOOMED OUT of the gray murk of the Lagoon. Voices, broken and desperate, begged for help.
“Please, can you spare some currensea?”
“My son is injured. He needs a doctor!”
“My husband is missing. His name is Livio. He’s tall with black hair. Have you seen him?”
The Lagoon was only four leagues north of Cerulea, just over ten nautical miles. Refugees from the city, wounded and dazed, swam through its narrow currents. They huddled in doorways and slept in alleys.
“My children are hungry, do you have any food?” a mermaid begged. She had two little ones clutching her tail and a baby in her arms.
Serafina stopped. She had no food and no money to give. She turned to Blu.
“We need to keep moving,” he said. “The waters are lightening. It’ll be dawn in another hour.”
“You must have something on you…a drupe or a cowrie,” said Serafina. “Give her something, or I won’t budge.”
“Keep moving!” Verde hissed.
Blu pulled off his earring—a gold hoop—and handed it to the mermaid.
“Sell it,” Serafina told her. “It should bring you a few trocii.”
The mermaid hugged Blu. She took Serafina’s hand and kissed it. “You’re the principessa, I know you are! I saw you in the Kolisseo. Thank you! Oh, thank you, Principessa!” she said.
A merman, overhearing her, turned around. “It’s her! The principessa!” he said.
“Take back Cerulea!” a mermaid shouted. “Avenge us!”
An oily-looking merman who’d been watching them from a doorway turned and swam off.
Verde yanked Serafina away. “Word’s traveling,” he said. “And that’s not good. There are Lagoonas, plenty of them, who would sell you to Traho for two cowries.”
“Are you going to sell us for more?” Serafina asked archly.
Verde didn’t bother to answer her.
Serafina still wanted to trust him, to trust all of them. Thalassa had trusted them, it seemed. But they were Praedatori. Outlaws. Why would they help two princesses?
The group swam on, though ancient archways, down dimly lit currents. Serafina looked around, wondered where Kharkarias’s lair was. She had never been to the Lagoon, but had heard many stories. It bordered the human city of Venice, and was part of Miromara, but belonged only to itself. Home to criminals, sirens, con artists, and spies, it was also a favorite haunt of swashbucklers—young mer who flipped a fin at society by dressing like pirates.
As they approached the heart of the Lagoon, the dingy currents gave way to squares lined with cafés and clubs. Lava bubbled in garishly colored globes outside of them. Loud music spilled into the streets through their open doors. Serafina saw shops where one could buy anything—songspell pearls, shipwreck silver, rare sea creatures, posidonia wine.
Then the narrow currents of the Lagoon led to human-made canals, and the clubs and cafés to Venetian palazzos. Her uncle had told her that wealthy terragogg nobles and merchants had built these grand dwellings centuries ago upon wooden piles driven deep into the Lagoon’s hard clay, and that equally wealthy mer had built their palazzos underneath them. These merfolk, exquisite in dress and elusive in manner, swam in and out of their dwellings now. Many wore masks. Serafina saw white faces with red lips. Golden faces with delicate black tracery. The face of a water bird, with a curved, cruel beak. A harlequin. A crescent moon. The face of death.
She found the effect unnerving. The masks themselves were still and impassive, but the eyes behind them were lively and appraising. It was said that these palazzo-dwellers had gained their riches by giving secret concerts for humans. Consorting with terragoggs was illegal. In the Lagoon, however, the only crime was being stupid enough to get caught at it.
“That’s the Grand Canal,” Verde said, pointing ahead. “The palazzo isn’t far.”
“It smells bad here,” Neela said, making a face.
“It’s the goggs,” Grigio said.
A quarter league up the Grand Canal, Verde turned off into a smaller canal, or rio. “This is it,” he said. “Calliope’s Way.” He swam a few yards down the rio, then stopped in front of a white marble building with a soaring gothic doorway
. Lava torches glowed brightly at either side of it. Below them were carved stone faces with blind eyes and open mouths. An image of the sea goddess Neria, flanked by lesser gods, was carved in relief above the door. Above that was a loggia of pointed arches, decorated with a delicate frieze of sea flowers, fish, and shells.
Blu lifted a heavy iron knocker and let it drop.
“Qui vadit ibi?”
It was the stone faces. They’d spoken in unison.
“Filii maris,” Blu said.
Ancient words. Spoken when the palazzo was built, Serafina thought. She understood the Latin. Who goes there? was the question. Sons of the sea, the answer.
The doors opened outward.
“This way,” Verde said. “He’s expecting you.”
Serafina and the others followed him inside. The doors closed behind them with an ominous boom. The lock’s tumblers turned. A bolt slid home. She looked up and saw light spilling over the water. Verde swam toward it. Serafina and Neela looked at each other, then did the same. When they surfaced, they found themselves in a large rectangular pool that took up most of a cavernous room—a room that also contained furniture, a fireplace, electric lights, and air.
A room for a terragogg.
“I—I don’t understand,” Serafina said. “I thought this was a mer dwelling.”
“You’ll be all right,” Blu told her. “We’ve got to go.”
“My gods, Blu,” Serafina said, realizing what the Praedatori had done. “You sold us to humans?”
“What? No! You can’t do this!” Neela said, her voice shrill with fear.
Blu was already under the water. All the Praedatori were.
“Blu, wait!” Serafina shouted.
It was too late. The mermaids were all alone.
“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” Serafina asked, looking around warily.
“A seriously huge mistake,” Neela said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) Page 11