Rogue Wave

by Jennifer Donnelly

  Copyright © 2015 by Disney Publishing Worldwide

  Cover photo by Rachel Elkind and Roberto Falck

  Cover illustration by Shane Rebenscheid and Grace Lee

  Cover design by SJI Associates:

  Endpaper maps and chapter opener illustration by Laszlo Kubinyi

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney•Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney•Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

  ISBN 978-1-4847-1210-8

  Visit www.hyperionteens.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  Realms of the Mer

  Neela's Journey

  About the Author

  For the awesome Steve Malk,

  with gratitude

  The sea is never still.

  It pounds on the shore

  Restless as a young heart,

  Hunting.

  The sea speaks

  And only the stormy hearts

  Know what it says….

  —From “Young Sea,”

  by Carl Sandburg

  BEHIND THE SILVER GLASS, the man with no eyes smiled.

  She was here. She had come. As he’d known she would. Her heart was strong and true, and it had led her home.

  She had come hoping that there was someone left. Her mother, the regina. Her warrior brother or fierce uncle.

  The man watched the mermaid as she swam through the ruined stateroom of her mother’s palace. He watched with eyes that were fathomless pits of darkness.

  She looked different now. Her clothing was that of the currents, hard and edgy. She’d cut her long copper-brown hair short and dyed it black. Her green eyes were wary and guarded.

  Yet, in some ways, she had not changed. Her movements were halting. There was uncertainty in her glance. The man saw that she still did not recognize the source of her power and so did not believe in it. That was good. By the time she did understand, it would be too late. For her. For the seas. For the world.

  The mermaid looked at the gaping hole where the stateroom’s east wall had once stood. A current, mournful and low, swept through it. Anemones and seaweeds had begun to colonize its jagged edges. The mermaid swam to the broken throne, then bent down to touch the floor near it.

  Head bowed, she stayed there for quite some time. Then she rose and backed away, moving closer to the north wall.

  Closer to him.

  He’d tried to kill her once, before the attack on her realm. He’d come through a mirror in her bedroom, but a servant had appeared, forcing him back into the silver.

  Long, jagged cracks, running through the glass like a network of veins, held him back now. The spaces between the cracks were too small to fit his body through, but large enough for his hands.

  Slowly, silently, they pushed through the mirror, hovering only inches from the mermaid. It would be so easy to wrap them around her slender neck and end what the Iele had started.

  But no, the man thought, drawing back. That wouldn’t be wise. Her courage and strength were greater than he’d imagined. She might yet succeed where others had failed—she might find the talismans. And if she did, he would take them from her. A merman she’d once loved and trusted would help him.

  The man with no eyes had waited so long. He knew he must not lose patience now. He retreated into the glass, blending back into its liquid silver. In the hollows where his eyes once were, darkness shone, bright and alive. It was a darkness that watched and waited. A darkness that crouched. A darkness as ancient as the gods.

  In her last moments, she would see it. He would turn her face to his and make her look into those bottomless black depths. She would know that she had lost.

  And that the darkness had won.

  “HERE, FISH! HERE, SILVERFISH!”

  Serafina, breathless and trembling, called out as loudly as she dared. Liquid silver rippled around her as she moved through the Hall of Sighs in Vadus, the mirror realm. Its walls were hung with thousands of looking glasses. Light from flickering chandeliers danced inside them. Except for a few vitrina, who were gazing vacantly at their reflections, the hall was empty.

  Sera had hoped her friends would be nearby, but they weren’t. They must’ve come out in other parts of Vadus, she reasoned. At least no death riders had followed her. Baba Vrăja had seen to that by smashing the mirror Sera had swum through, allowing her to escape the soldiers, and their captain, Markus Traho.

  “Come, silverfish!” she called again, her voice barely a whisper.

  She had to be quiet. To make as few ripples as possible. She didn’t want the mirror lord to know she was here. He was every bit as dangerous as Traho.

  She remembered the beetles. Vrăja had given her a handful of them to lure a silverfish. She pulled them out of her pocket and rattled them in her fist.

  “Here, fish, fish, fish!” she called. The quicker she found one, the quicker she’d get home.

  Home.

  Serafina had fled Miromara two weeks ago, after Cerulea—its capital city—had been invaded. The attackers had tried to assassinate her mother. They’d murdered her father. They’d been sent by Admiral Kolfinn of Ondalina, an arctic mer realm, under the leadership of the brutal Captain Traho.

  Sera had met Astrid, Kolfinn’s daughter, in the Iele’s caves, and Astrid had sworn that her father had not ordered an attack on Miromara, but Sera didn’t trust her.

  Like Serafina herself, and four other mermaids—Neela, Becca, Ling, and Ava—Astrid had been summoned by the Iele, a clan of powerful river witches. From Vrăja, the Iele’s leader, the mermaids had learned that they were direct descendants of the Six Who Ruled—powerful mages who had once governed the lost island empire of Atlantis.

  They’d also learned that Orfeo, the most powerful of the Six, had unleashed a great evil upon the island—the monster Abbadon. The creature had destroyed Atlantis before it was finally defeated by Orfeo’s five fellow mages. They had imprisoned it in the Carceron; then one of them—Sycorax—had dragged the prison to the Southern Sea, where she’d sunk it beneath the ice. But now
the monster was stirring again. Someone had woken it. Serafina was convinced it was Kolfinn. She believed he wished to use its power to take over all the mer realms.

  Vrăja had told the mermaids that they needed to destroy Abbadon before whoever had woken it could free it. To do this, they would need to find ancient talismans that had belonged to the Six Who Ruled. With these objects, the mermaids could open the lock to the Carceron and go after the monster.

  Sera knew her best hope of finding out where the talismans were was in Cerulea’s Ostrokon, among the ancient conch recordings about Merrow’s Progress. She believed that Merrow, the merfolk’s first leader, had hidden the talismans during a journey she’d taken through the world’s waters, and that the conchs might reveal their locations.

  Though she knew it was extremely dangerous—and she was scared of seeing Cerulea in ruins—she had to go back home.

  But not yet.

  There was someplace else she had to go first.

  No, Sera! a voice said forcefully.

  She whirled around, looking for whoever had spoken, but no one was there.

  Don’t go, mina. It’s too dangerous.

  “Ava?” Sera whispered. “Is that you? Where are you?”

  In your head.

  “Is this a convoca?” Sera asked, remembering the difficult summoning spell the Iele had taught them.

  Yes…trying…can’t hold it…ember…Astrid…

  “Ava, you’re breaking up! I’m losing you!” Sera said.

  There was no sound for a few seconds, then Ava’s voice came back. Remember what Astrid said? “The Opafago eat their victims alive…while their hearts are still beating and their blood’s still pumping.”

  “I know, but I have to go,” Sera said.

  The Ostrokon…safer…please…Ava was fading again.

  “I can’t, Ava. Not yet. Before we can find out where the talismans are, we have to find out what they are.”

  Sera waited for Ava’s response, but it didn’t come.

  “Here, silverfish!” Sera said, more urgently now. Time was passing. She had to make wake. “Here, fish! I have a tasty treat for you!”

  “How fabulous! I love treats!” a new voice said. From right behind her.

  Serafina’s blood froze. Rorrim Drol. He’d found her after all. She slowly turned around.

  “Principessa! How lovely to see you again!” said the mirror lord. His eyes traveled over her face, taking in its pallor. He noted the deep cuts on her tail, made by the monster. His oily smile widened. “I must say, though, you’re not looking very well.”

  “You are. Well fed, that is,” Serafina said, backing away from him.

  His face was as round as a full moon. He wore an acid-green silk robe. Its voluminous folds couldn’t conceal his girth.

  “Why, thank you, my dear!” he said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve just had the most wonderful meal. Courtesy of a young human. A girl about your age.” He burped loudly, then covered his mouth. “Oh, my. Do excuse me. I rather overdid it. There were so many delicious danklings to be had.”

  Danklings were a person’s deepest fears. Rorrim fed on them.

  “So that’s why you’re as fat as a walrus,” Serafina said, keeping her distance.

  “I couldn’t resist. That silly girl made it so easy! She reads these things called magazines, you see. They have pictures in them of other girls, only the pictures have been enchanted to make those girls look flawless. But she can’t see that. All she sees is that they’re perfect and she’s not. She spends hours fretting in her mirror, and I stand on the other side whispering to her that that she’ll never be thin enough, pretty enough, or good enough. And when she’s utterly scared and miserable, I feast!”

  Poor thing, Sera thought, remembering how bad it felt to fall short of others’ expectations. How bad it still felt sometimes.

  “Isn’t it brilliant, Principessa? Ah, the goggs! I simply adore them. They do so much of my work for me. But enough about them. The things I hear about you these days!” Rorrim said, wagging a finger. “You’ve got Captain Traho tearing up entire rivers looking for you. What are you doing in Vadus? Where are you going?

  “Home,” Sera lied.

  Rorrim narrowed his eyes. He licked his lips. “Surely you don’t have to leave so soon?” He was behind Serafina before she even realized he’d moved. She gasped as she felt a liquid chill run up her spine.

  “Still so strong!” he said unhappily.

  “Get your hands off me!” Sera cried, swimming away from him.

  But he caught up to her. “Why were you calling my silverfish? Where are you really going?” he asked her.

  “I told you, home,” she said.

  Sera knew she had to hide her fears from him. He would use them to keep her here forever, like a vitrina. But it was too late; she suddenly felt a sharp pain.

  “Ah! There it is!” Rorrim whispered, his breath cold upon her neck. “Little principessa, you think you’re so clever and brave, but you’re not. I know it. And so did your mother. You disappointed her time and time again. You let her down. And then you left her to die.”

  “No!” Serafina cried.

  Rorrim’s quick fingers probed her backbone cruelly, searching for her deepest fears. “But wait, there’s more! Just look at what you’ve been up to!” He fell silent for a moment, then said, “My word, what a task Vrăja’s given you. And you honestly think you can do it? You? What will she do when you fail? I imagine she’ll find someone else. Someone better. Just like Mahdi did.”

  His venomous words struck at Serafina’s heart like a stingray’s barb. Mahdi, the crown prince of Matali, a merman she’d loved, had betrayed her for another and the wound was still raw. She looked down at the floor, paralyzed by pain. She forgot why she was here. And where she was going. Her will was ebbing away. A suffocating grayness descended on her like a sea fog.

  With a purr of pleasure, Rorrim plucked a small, dark thing hiding between two vertebrae. The dankling screeched and flailed as he popped it into his mouth.

  “So delicious!” he said, swallowing. “I shouldn’t have any more, but I can’t help myself.” He ate another, and then said, “You’ll never defeat Traho. He’ll find you sooner or later.”

  The brightness in Serafina’s eyes dimmed. Her head dipped. Rorrim plucked more danklings, cramming them into his mouth with the heel of his hand.

  “Mmm! Divine!” he said, gulping them down. A rumbling burp escaped him.

  The rude noise broke through Serafina’s lethargy. For a few seconds, the gray lifted and her mind was clear again. He’s taking me apart. I can’t let him, she thought desperately. But how can I fight him? He’s so strong….

  With great effort, she lifted her head—and gasped. Rorrim had doubled in size. His belly was hanging down to his knees. His face was grotesquely bloated. A grimace twisted his mouth.

  He’s eaten so much he’s in pain, she thought.

  She heard another voice then—Vrăja’s. It sounded in her memory, loud and clear. Instead of shunning your fear, you must let it speak, the witch had told her.

  Serafina would. She would let it shout.

  “You’re right, Rorrim,” she said. “What Vrăja’s asked of me is impossible.”

  She was throwing her heart open to a monster. If she failed, he would devour it.

  Rorrim snatched another dankling and chewed it. He burped again, wincing. His belly touched the ground now. “Perhaps a slight pause between courses would be wise,” he said. “A moment, please….”

  Sera didn’t give him one.

  “I’m afraid I won’t find my uncle. Or my brother,” she said, all in a rush. “I’m afraid of the death riders. I’m afraid for Neela, Ling, Ava, and Becca. I’m afraid Astrid’s telling me the truth. I’m afraid she isn’t. I’m afraid of Traho. I’m afraid of the man with no eyes….”

  Rorrim was grabbing fistfuls of danklings now. His arms were so fat, he could barely bring his hands to his mouth, yet he couldn’t stop eatin
g. His greed overwhelmed him.

  “Do you know what else I’m afraid of?”

  “Oh, gods, stop. Please!” Rorrim begged. He took a step back, lost his balance, and toppled over. He tried to get up, but couldn’t. His legs and arms kicked wildly, like a flipped-over turtle’s. He was helpless.

  Serafina bent over him. She was shouting now. “I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind if I see any more suffering! I’m afraid more Ceruleans will be killed! I’m afraid of villages being raided! I’m afraid Traho will hurt Vrăja! I’m afraid Blu is dead! I’m afraid for the merfolk trapped on Rafe Mfeme’s ship!”

  Rorrim closed his eyes. He whimpered and Serafina stopped yelling. She straightened, surprised to find that the gray fog had disappeared. She had bested Rorrim. Her fear had become an ally instead of an enemy.

  Smiling, she opened her hand. The beetles were still inside it. “Silverfish! Come!” she shouted, as loudly as she could.

  But no silverfish appeared. Serafina realized what she was doing wrong.

  She shouted again.

  she called.

  The liquid silver stirred. Two long, quivering antennae emerged from it, followed by a head. The creature crawled all the way out of the liquid and Serafina saw that it was huge. Twice as big as a large hippokamp. Silver drops fell from its long, segmented carapace. A pair of enormous black eyes regarded her.

  it said.

  Serafina said.

  The silverfish nodded and Serafina climbed onto its back. The creature folded its long antennae down so she could hold them like reins. Sera found her seat atop the silverfish just as she would if she were riding her own hippokamp, Clio. Her tail hugged its side. Her spine was straight and strong.

  “To Atlantis? You’re traveling to your own death!” Rorrim cried.

  “I’m going to Atlantis to prevent death. Mine and many more,” Serafina said.

  “Idiot merl!” Rorrim bellowed, flailing his arms and legs furiously. “The Opafago will eat you alive! They’ll crack your bones open and lick out the marrow! If you aren’t scared, you should be!”

  “I’m not scared, Rorrim…”

  “Liar,” Rorrim hissed.

  “…I’m terrified.”

  Serafina told the silverfish.