“Blu! No!” she screamed, swimming back to him.
“Get her out of here!” he yelled.
Grigio shoved Serafina into her room. He handed her his knife. “Take it!” he shouted. “Lock the door!”
Neela pulled the door shut, slid the bolt, and backed away from it. “If Traho got through the outside door, he can get through this one,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Neela, we’ve got to go back out there. We’ve got to help them!” Serafina cried.
“That’s Traho out there, Sera! It’s us he wants. The only way we can help the Praedatori is by getting out of here.”
“How? The window has bars on it!”
“Are they bronze? Can we melt them with a liquesco spell?”
Sera shook her head. “They’re iron.”
“Maybe there’s a door that connects to another room,” Neela said, desperation in her voice. “Maybe there’s a secret passage, a trapdoor to a tunnel, or—”
Her words were cut off by the sound of pounding. Traho’s men were on the other side of the door.
Neela cast a quick robus spell, hoping to shore up the door. “Hurry, Sera, help me pull up the rug!” she cried.
Serafina slipped Grigio’s knife into a deep pocket of her dress. Then she and Neela searched the floor frantically for an outline of a trapdoor, but there was nothing. They heard the sound of splintering wood. Neela’s robus was no match for Traho’s men. They’d be in the room any minute. She whirled around, desperately looking for a way out, but there was nothing. And then her eyes fell on the looking glass.
“Neela, remember when I said I saw Vrăja in the mirror?”
“How exactly does that help us right now?” Neela asked, her eyes on the door.
“She reached for me, and I reached for her, and my hand went through the glass.”
Neela looked at her. “No way. Not even the canta magi can do that. We could die in there.”
“We’ll die out here if Traho gets us.”
An ax blade cleaved the door.
“We have about two seconds, Neels.”
Neela took a deep breath, then grabbed Sera’s hand.
Together, they dove into the mirror.
IT WAS LIKE swimming through sea lily honey. Silver sea lily honey.
“Neela? Neels, where are you?” Serafina called out anxiously.
“Here. Yuck. I don’t like this, Sera.”
Neela was behind her, trying to catch up. It was an effort just to breathe in the liquid silver, never mind to move.
Sera looked past her, at the mirror they’d just swum through. She could see what was happening on its other side. Traho was in her room. He was furious. His soldiers had ripped the doors off a wardrobe and flipped over the bed looking for them. As both mermaids watched, he peered into the glass, then pounded a fist against it. Serafina shuddered. Neela pulled her away.
“I think he can see us,” she said.
“Even if he can, he can’t get to us. He can’t swim through the glass.”
“Um, Sera? How did we?”
“I don’t know,” Serafina said. “Right now, the bigger question is, can we get out again?”
The two mermaids turned and stared out at the strange new place they’d just entered, a glittering high-ceilinged hall that seemed to go on forever. Vitrina were everywhere. They sat slumped in chairs or on benches. Or stood motionlessly, heads hanging. A few lay facedown on the ground on the marble floor, as lifeless as flung-away toys. Ghosts of vain terragoggs whose souls had been captured by the mirror, vitrina craved admiration. They became listless without it.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and mirrors of every shape and size adorned the walls. Some were incredibly ornate. Others were sleek and modern. Some boasted frames of precious metals, studded with jewels. Others were made of cheap plastic.
“There must be thousands of them,” Neela said wonderingly, touching one. “Which one do we take? Where do we go?”
Sera didn’t reply right away. Then finally she said, “To the Iele.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s time to stop swimming away from everything and start swimming toward something.”
“You know how to get there? Because I don’t.”
“I do. Sort of. ‘The River Olt,’ Vrăja told me. ‘In the black mountains. Two leagues past the Maiden’s Leap, in the waters of the Malacostraca. Follow the bones.’”
“Okay, but how do we get there from here?”
“I don’t know. I know this, though: I’m sick of being scared. Sick of being hunted. Sick of Traho, and those goggs with their spearguns. They don’t get to decide what happens to us anymore. We do. Come on.”
Sera led Neela to a mirror. They pressed their faces to the glass. It started to give way, melting around them just as the mirror in the duca’s palazzo had. A human girl was on the other side, in her bedroom. They hadn’t seen her, but she saw them—and let out an earsplitting scream. They quickly scrambled back from the glass.
“We’d better not do that again or we’ll end up flopping around on some terragogg’s floor,” Serafina said. “If we want to get to the Iele, we need to find the mirror Vrăja used.”
“Good luck with that,” Neela said, looking at the endless hallway and its multitude of mirrors. “We need directions, or a map.”
“Maybe we could ask the vitrina how to navigate in here,” Serafina said.
“Let’s do it quickly,” Neela said, looking around uneasily. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Serafina swam to a vitrina—a woman in a slinky golden dress, with bobbed hair and pouty red lips. “Hello?” she said. “Excuse me…” She got no reponse. “Oh, isn’t she pretty!” Sera added, knowing how to perk up a vitrina. “And her dress is gorgeous.”
The vitrina drew a breath and opened her eyes. Color came into her cheeks. “Oh, thank you!” she said, sitting up in her chair. She frowned. “But what do you think of my hair?”
“It’s so beautiful!” Serafina said. “Please, Miss…”
“Josephine.”
“I know why this place creeps me out,” Neela suddenly said. “There aren’t any children here.”
“Of course there aren’t,” Josephine said. “Rorrim Drol hates children.”
“Why?” Neela asked.
“Because they’re strong and fearless. Their little backbones are made of steel. It takes years for them to soften. Fear only sets in as one grows up, you see.”
“Backbones?” Neela echoed, looking confused.
“Who’s Rorrim Drol?” Serafina asked.
The vitrina looked past them. “Shh! Here he comes! Be careful!” she said. “Don’t let him get close or he’ll bind you to the glass too.”
The mermaids turned and saw a fat bald man in a red silk robe and blue velvet slippers shuffling toward them.
He held out his arms, smiling wide.
“Is that, like, a caballabong cheer or something?” Neela whispered to Serafina.
the man said, rubbing his plump hands together.
“I’m very sorry, sir, but we can’t understand you,” Serafina said.
The man pressed a hand to his chest. “Do forgive me! I was speaking Rursus, the lingua franca of Vadus, the mirror realm.” He swept a bow. “Rorrim Drol, at your service. Welcome to the Hall of Sighs.”
Serafina thought fast. She knew now how dangerous it could be to reveal her real identity to strangers. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said. “I’m Sofia…and this is Noor.”
The man gave them an oily smile, revealing small, pointed teeth. “No need to pretend here, my darlings! You’re perfectly safe. I know who you are. Your fame precedes you,” he said. He nodded at Josephine. “I see you’ve been talking to my vitrina. So kind of you. They adore admirers. Simply can’t get enough compliments. Come, meet a few more.”
He walked over to a young woman wearing a damask gown with a square neckline and pointed bodice. Her face was deathly pale. “This is o
ur darling Katharine. She ended up here because her complexion was darker than was fashionable during her time, and she feared it hurt her chances of finding a husband,” he said.
Katharine smiled and Serafina saw that her teeth were black. Rorrim ran a finger down her cheek, then showed them the tip. It was covered with a white, satiny substance. “Venetian ceruse. Used by Renaissance ladies to whiten the skin. And it did, my dears! Unfortunately, it also caused their teeth to rot and their bodies to wither. It was absolutely full of lead and it poisoned them,” he explained happily.
He moved to another woman. She wore a high-necked dress with puffy sleeves. Her eyes, sunken and empty, were like two black holes in her head. “And of course there’s the lovely Alice, who ate arsenic mixed with vinegar to improve her complexion. She was getting on in years—all of twenty-three!—and feared losing her beauty. Arsenic was all the rage in the nineteenth century. The vomiting and convulsions it brought on were a bit daunting, but I’m happy to say that Alice persevered and succeeded. There’s nothing paler than a corpse, is there?”
Smiling, he glided over to a third vitrina. Her blond head lolled sickeningly on her shoulder. “And we musn’t forget our sweet Lydia. Bel-la-don-na,” he said, relishing each syllable. “It means beautiful lady. Lydia feared losing her beau to another, so she put drops of belladonna into her eyes to make her pupils dilate. Victorian men found doe-eyed women oh so alluring, you see. Though, I must say, it wasn’t so pretty when she lost her eyesight to the poison, fell down a stairwell, and broke her neck.”
Rorrim smiled at Serafina. He circled her. “I wonder, little principessa, what do you fear?”
Sera felt a chill and realized Rorrim was running his cold fingers down her spine.
“Oh, this is no good at all,” he said. “Much too strong. I’ll have to soften this up or I’ll starve.”
“Stop it!” Serafina said angrily. “Take your hands off me!” She tried to swim away from him but found she couldn’t. Her tail was suddenly as heavy as stone. The liquid silver held her fast.
“Neela, I can’t move!” she cried, panic-stricken.
Neela started toward her.
“No! Don’t come near me! He’ll get you, too!”
“Hang on, Sera!” Neela said. She cast a depulsio, a songspell used to move objects, hoping to push Rorrim away, but nothing happened.
“You’re wasting your breath, my dear,” Rorrim said. “Early mirrors were made of polished iron. There’s a great deal of it in the Vadus, I’m afraid.”
“Find the way out, Neela! Hurry!” Sera urged.
Neela hesitated, torn, then she swam off.
“Wait a moment…what have we here?” Rorrim said, probing the spaces between Sera’s vertebrae. “You hide your fears well, Princess, but I’ve found one. Ha! Got you!”
Sera felt a strange popping sensation in her back, and then Rorrim swam out from behind her. He had something soft and dark pinched between his fingers. It was fluttering and squealing.
“What is that?” she asked, horrified.
“It’s called a dankling. It’s a little piece of fear. They burrow into backbones. A few of them will infest a nice strong spine, and then as the bones weaken, more come,” Rorrim explained. He put it in his mouth and swallowed it. “Mmm! Simply divine!” he said, licking his fingers. “There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, as tasty as fear. Doubt is delectable, of course. Insecurities, anxieties—all delicious, but fear? Oh, fear is exquisite! And that one was especially piquant…fear for the luscious Mr. Blu! That was a rather bad injury he sustained on your behalf, wasn’t it?”
Desperate to escape, Serafina struggled harder to break free.
“Don’t bother. It’s pointless,” Rorrim said. “There’s a lot of mercury here, too. The older mirrors are full of it. It weakens you.”
He was behind her again. She could see his reflection in the mirrors on the walls. He’d grown fatter.
“Fight him, Sera!” Neela shouted, as she moved from mirror to mirror, frantically peering in each one. “He’s feeding on your fear! Don’t let him!” Getting nowhere, she swam to the broken-necked vitrina. “Lydia, hey,” she said, cocking her head to meet the ghost’s eyes. “I need to get to the Olt River. Can you help me?”
Lydia closed her doe-like eyes.
Neela swam to Alice. “Alice, please,” she begged.
Alice frowned. “Paler. I could be paler still. Don’t you think? I know I’d find a husband then.”
Neela started toward Katharine, but Rorrim spoke before she could reach her.
“My dear, dear, Princess Neela, do slow down! You look so stressed. Here, just for you. A kanjaywoohoo,” he said, holding out a sweet on his palm. “Swallow it, darling. Just like you swallow all your fears and frustrations. They leave such a bitter taste, don’t they? This is much sweeter.”
Neela stopped dead.
“It gets so tiring, doesn’t it? Always having to smile and agree. Never being able to speak your mind. The sweets make up for it all. Cram a bag of bing-bangs into your mouth and you forget for a while how much you hate pink. And the palace. You forget how much you fear your future—the boredom, the longing to do something else, to be something else.”
“H-how…how do you…” Neela stammered.
“Know? Why, I’ve seen you, darling. In your room. Alone at night. Cutting and sewing dresses you’ll never wear. Stashing them in the back of your closet. Suma knows about that, by the way. Watch out for her.”
As Rorrim continued to speak, Neela’s face changed. Her expression became vulnerable and raw, and Serafina knew Rorrim was getting to her, too. He’d turned Neela’s heart inside out for anyone to see, just as he’d done to hers.
Then Neela abruptly shook her head, as if clearing sea foam from her ears. “Nice try, lumpsucker,” she said. She swam down the hallway and kept searching.
Watching her, Serafina rallied and almost freed her tail, but before she could, Rorrim said, “I wonder if we can go deeper. Yes, there’s something right there…oh, it’s very deep. Ah! Here we go!” There was another popping sensation in her back and then: “Lovely! Fear of failure! It has such a wonderfully sharp flavor to it. You’re terrified of proving yourself a disappointment, aren’t you? I can see why. Your mother is—forgive me, was—an incredible leader. Strong, smart, so dedicated. You’re nothing like her, darling. Not at all.”
Serafina felt weaker. Rorrim was right—it was pointless. Everything was pointless. It didn’t matter if she broke free or not. Why should she even try? She would only fail.
Rorrim prodded her spine again. “This will soften soon. Fear rots backbones like cavities rot teeth.” He smiled, his eyes glittering, then said, “And you, my dear, are full of it.”
“Principessa!” a voice shrilled.
Serafina looked up. It was Josephine. She was walking toward Serafina and she was furious.
“Principessa, tell your friend to stop being so annoying! She’s making a spectacle of herself and taking everyone’s attention off me!”
“Not now, Josephine,” Rorrim warned.
“Yes, now, Rorrim,” the vitrina said, stamping her foot. “Nobody’s looking at me! Everyone’s looking at her!” She turned to glare at Neela.
Neela was far down the hall of mirrors. She was waving her arms over her head, trying to get Serafina’s attention. As soon as she had it, she pointed to a mirror on the wall and gave her a thumbs-up. Then she cupped her hands to her mouth. “Don’t listen to him, Sera! You faced down Alítheia! You faced down Traho! Fight this tube worm!” she shouted.
Neela’s words were like a powerful undertow, pulling Sera out of her torpor. She’s right, she thought. I have faced worse things than Rorrim. She straightened her back, picked up her head, and shook off the hopelessness that had descended on her. With a great, wrenching cry, she pulled herself free of the silver.
“Swim, merl, swim!” Neela yelled.
Sera did. She raced down the hall to her friend. When she was only
a few feet away, Neela dove through the mirror she’d been pointing to, shouting, “Follow me!”
Serafina put on a burst of speed, ready to dive after her, but Rorrim was right behind her, surprisingly fast for a man of his size. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back. The pain was electric. She screamed and tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.
“Not so fast, little princess. You’re mine now.”
Blu flashed into her mind. She saw him as Traho’s soldiers shot the spear through him. She saw him trying to cut the line attached to it. Then she remembered the dagger Grigio had given her. In a flash, she pulled it out of pocket, reached behind her head, and sliced through her tresses.
A split second later, she shot through the mirror, leaving Rorrim Drol holding a handful of hair.
“UM…SO, NEELS,” Serafina said, looking down at her tail fins, which were submerged in a low, wide stone bowl, “the Iele live in a toilet?”
They were in a tiny grotto, no more than three feet by four. They’d tumbled out through a narrow mirror in the wall and Sera had landed tailfirst in the bowl.
“Wow. I think something went wrong,” Neela said, jammed painfully between the toilet and the wall.
“You think?” Serafina said, pulling her fins out of the bowl. She gave them a shake. “Yuck. So gross.”
“Sera, your hair!” Neela said.
“That bad?” Serafina asked. She glanced into the mirror and winced. “Oh, wow. That bad.” The edges were all different lengths. Some chunks grazed her chin, others were up around her ears.
“What happened?”
Serafina explained.
“No one has hair like that except swashbucklers,” said Neela. “You’ll attract attention.” She sang a prax spell—an illusio—and Serafina’s long hair was temporarily restored. “That should hold you for an hour or so. Now, where exactly are we?”
The door was closed. They could hear voices and the sound of clattering dishes coming from the other side.
Neela opened it cautiously. “It seems to be a café,” she said, swimming out of the grotto. Sera followed her.
Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) Page 14