“You’re still my choice. Always,” he said. “Even if I’m not yours anymore.”
Serafina stared at the ring, incredulous. “How did you get this?” she asked.
“I picked it up after you threw it away.”
“But you couldn’t have. You weren’t there. I threw it away when I was with the Praedatori. I don’t…I don’t understand.”
Then suddenly she did.
She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Under his right shoulder, just below the outer edge of his collarbone, was a bandage. It covered the place where the death rider’s spear had gone through him.
When he was in the duca’s palazzo.
When he was fighting for her life.
When he was Blu.
MAHDI CUPPED Sera’s face.
“Don’t touch me, Mahdi. I’m mad. No, I’m furious! After what happened at the duca’s, I thought you were dead!” Sera said, slapping his hand away. “You let me believe you were.”
“Maybe it was wishful thinking,” Mahdi said.
Sera ignored that. “How long have you been with the Praedatori? What’s the death rider uniform all about?”
Mahdi was silent.
“You need to tell me. My life’s in danger, Mahdi. I have to know what’s going on.”
“I’ve been a member of the Praedatori for a year. I’ve been pretending to be a death rider for the last few weeks.”
“Why didn’t you say something at the duca’s?” Serafina asked. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
Her head was spinning. Until a minute ago, she’d thought that her betrothed had abandoned her. And that an outlaw had sacrificed himself for her. Now they were both the same merman, and right here before her.
“I couldn’t say anything, Sera. We take a vow—”
“I don’t care!” she said, slapping her tail. “You took another vow. To me. Or you were about to.”
“I only wanted to protect you. It’s dangerous to know things. Knowing things can get you killed these days.”
“It’s more dangerous not to know. I just lunged at you with a knife, Mahdi. I…I could have…” Serafina’s voice caught.
“It’s all right. I’m fine.”
“Is Yazeed in the Praedatori too? Is he alive?”
Mahdi said nothing.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Tell him he’s got to get word to Matali. Neela’s worried sick.”
“I can’t. Yaz is missing in action. He was directing guerilla operations outside Cerulea. His base was raided a week ago. No one’s seen him since.”
Serafina fell silent now, and Mahdi kept trying to explain.
“I wanted to say something. The whole time I was with you, I was wishing I could. But I couldn’t, even if I hadn’t taken a vow. If you’d known it was me, you might’ve made decisions based on my safety, not your own. I didn’t want that. I wanted you to be able to swim away. To leave me behind if you had to. I was also worried about my cover. What if you’d been captured? You might’ve been forced to tell Traho the truth.”
“Never. I never would have told that sea scum anything.”
“Traho can be very persuasive.”
“I don’t care if he tortured me. I never would have betrayed you.
“What if it wasn’t you he tortured? What if it was Neela? What if he cut off her fingers and made you watch? Could you stay silent then? Four days ago, he cut a finger off a child—a child, Sera—to make her mother tell him where her father was hiding. I saw him do it. And I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop him. It would have blown my cover. I would have saved one, maybe—and sacrificed thousands more. I still see her. That little merl. I see her at night when I try to sleep. I still hear her.”
Mahdi leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Oh, Mahdi,” she said, her heart hurting for him.
He looked at her, then touched a tendril of her hair, following its curve across her temple and down her cheek. “It suits you,” he said, smiling. “So does the outfit.”
Serafina looked down at her clothing. The illusios she’d cast at the duca’s had finally worn off. She was back to short hair and swash clothes. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s all Neela’s doing. We needed disguises and she came up with some.”
“I was so worried about you, Sera. After we fought off the attackers at the palazzo, we hunted for you. All the Praedatori did. The ones who survived, at least. We couldn’t find you anywhere. How did you get out?”
“Through a mirror.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“But only the very best mages can do that. How did you—”
“Look, Mahdi, I’m asking the questions right now, okay?”
Sera was wary. The lessons of the last few weeks had taught her not to give her trust until it had been earned. Who was the real Mahdi? Was it the shy, serious boy she’d fallen in love with two years ago? The party boy she’d found passed out in the ruins of the reggia? Or the solemn, selfless warrior she now found herself talking to?
“Why did you join the Praedatori?” she asked. She wanted to hear the whole story, from the beginning.
“Serafina, I can’t break—”
“Your vow? Sorry, that catfish is out of the bag. And besides, you didn’t break it. Not technically. You didn’t tell me. I guessed.”
Mahdi took a deep breath. “It all started soon after I returned home from Miromara. After it was decided we were to be betrothed. I sent you conchs at first, do you remember?”
“Remember? I lived for them,” Serafina said.
“I didn’t choose to stop sending them. My messenger—Kamau—was taken. With two of my closest friends—Ravi and Jai.”
“What do you mean taken?”
“They were traveling back together from Miromara and stopped for the night at a village about twenty leagues from Matali City. The village was raided. Khelefu, the grand vizier, came to tell me. He brought me Kamau’s bag. It was found at the inn where they’d stayed. There was a conch in it for me from you, a necklace he’d bought for his merlfriend, and a study conch. Kamau was cramming for the entrance exam to our military college. Ravi and Jai had been on a year abroad at the university in Tsarno…”
Mahdi shook his head, overcome by emotion. “Yaz and I, we grew up with those guys. They were more than friends; they were our brothers. We asked Khelefu what was being done. He said the proper forms had been filled out and a battalion of soldiers had been sent to the village, but they’d found nothing. Other villages had been raided too. No one knew who was behind it. I asked him to send more soldiers. To widen the search area. He told me that would be highly unusual and that additional forms would have to be submitted.”
Serafina knew that Mahdi chafed under the burden of Matali’s archaic bureaucracy.
“I couldn’t just sit there while my people were being stolen,” Mahdi continued. “I asked our high commander if Yaz and I could go out with the soldiers, but he said it was too dangerous. So we went to the chief of the Secret Service. He asked us how we were going to help—by going undercover? He laughed at the idea. Everyone in the entire kingdom knew who we were. I got angry then. Really angry. I’d lost three friends and couldn’t do a thing about it. Yaz felt the same way. In fact, the thing we did? It was his idea.”
Serafina raised an eyebrow. “What thing that you did?” she asked.
“We snuck to the stables with four more friends, got some hippokamps, and took off. We went to search for Kamau, Ravi, and Jai. We were gone for two days. No one could find us. It kind of caused an uproar.”
“I bet it did,” said Serafina. “You’re the heir to the throne! What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. Not then, and not for a long time after,” he said.
“What do you mean?
Mahdi looked up at the ceiling. “I knew about the raids. They’d been happening in Matali for over a year. I’d heard the reports. But I’d never
actually seen one of the raided villages. It was horrible, Sera. The worst thing I’d ever seen. Some of the villagers must’ve tried to fight. There were bloodstains on the walls and floors of houses. They scribbled notes and left them behind. Please tell my wife….Please help us….They’ve got my children….”
Serafina leaned her head against Mahdi’s shoulder. She was silent. She had learned that when pain was very deep, you shouldn’t talk. You should listen.
“I lost it,” Mahdi said. “Totally. I was grieving for my friends and for the stolen villagers. I wished I could talk to you and missed you like crazy and I couldn’t even get a conch to you, not without Kamau. He was the only one I trusted with something so private. I was first in line to the throne, the second most powerful merman in the realm, but I couldn’t do anything to help anyone. I kind of went off the deep end.” His jacket was still open. He touched his fingers to his chest, to the place over his heart, and drew out a bloodsong, wincing slightly.
Serafina watched the crimson swirl through the water and the images coalesce. A few seconds later, she sat up straight. Her jaw dropped open. She could not believe what she was seeing.
Mahdi and Yaz were at a club playing a spirited game of drupes, in which players took turns trying to bounce a shiny silver coin into a cup of brack. Whoever got the coin in handed the cup to another player to drink. The two of them had obviously been handed most of the cups, because a minute later, they were on the club’s stage, kicking up their tails in the middle of a showmerl chorus line. A few hours later, they were at a piercing parlor getting gold hoops in their ears.
Serafina saw other memories. Of breakneck hippokamp races and games of Dump the Dude, in which they knocked gogg surfers off their boards. Of raucous shoals, and huge bets made on caballabong matches. There were memories of out-of-control waves that went on all night and ended up with Yaz passed out on top of a turret and Mahdi hanging off a spire one-handed, yelling, “Serafina! SERAFINA!” before he was stopped by the Imperial Guards.
“Wow,” Serafina said now, as the bloodsong faded into the water.
“Yep,” Mahdi said. “’Fraid so. That went on for about a year and then one night—or morning, rather—when the two of us woke up on the floor of a nightclub, a man was standing there. The duca. In trousers, leather shoes, and a tweed jacket.”
“Underwater? How did he—”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain most of the things he did.”
“Does he—did he—have magic?” Serafina asked.
Mahdi thought for a minute, then said. “He had love, Sera. So much love. For the sea and all of its creatures. I think that was his magic.”
Serafina nodded.
“He stood there, leaning on his walking stick, looking down at us,” Mahdi continued. “And then he told us that we were disgraceful. ‘Is this how you honor the memory of your friends? Of those villagers?’ he said. We asked him who he was and how he knew about the villagers. He told us about the duchi di Venezia, the Praedatori, and the Wave Warriors. We explained to him that we’d approached the high commander, and the Secret Service. We said we’d even tried to find the villagers.” Mahdi shook his head again, embarrassed. “It sounds as lame now as it did then. The duca told us we needed to do more than try, we needed to succeed. And we would if we joined his Praedatori. So we did. We took the vow. We promised we’d shape up, but he didn’t want us to. He wanted us to keep doing exactly what we were doing. To hang out in clubs. Rub elbows with caballabong players, sirens, club kids, and the lowtiders who hang around them.”
“Why?”
“So we could watch and listen and pick up info. If some lowtider was suddenly throwing currensea around, it was a pretty sure thing he’d sold out a swordfish shoal, or given up a shark to the finners. We’d tell the duca, and he’d have other Praeds follow the guy, nab him in the act, and hand him over to the authorities. That’s what we were doing in the Lagoon the night before Cerulea was attacked. We were hanging out in a club in the hopes of connecting with some sea scum who help seal hunters. I wanted to explain, Sera. So bad. I couldn’t tell you the truth, but I wanted to at least tell you that what you were seeing wasn’t me. Not the real me. But then, well…the whole world fell apart and I never got the chance.”
Sera looked at him now, and knew in her heart that she was seeing the real Mahdi. She wondered if she would ever have a chance again to know that Mahdi, to be as close as they once were, to make up for all the time they’d lost.
“I’d heard so many stories,” she said. “That morning, in my chambers, Lucia was talking about what a great time you’d all had in the Lagoon. And then when I saw you, with her scarf tied around your head—”
“—you thought we had a thing,” Mahdi said.
Serafina nodded.
“I don’t want Lucia.”
“She wants you.”
“Yeah, I know she does. She told me so.”
Serafina’s fins flared. “What? When?”
“In prison. Right before I was going to be executed. Lucia Volnero’s the only reason I’m alive.”
“SERA, LISTEN. Just listen this time, okay?”
“Okay, Mahdi,” Serafina said, trying not to be angry. “I’m listening.”
“When the invasion of Cerulea started, Yaz and I cast transparensea pearls so we could fight without being seen. It was pretty pointless. I mean, two merboys were no match for Traho’s forces. Then we heard you and Neela had been captured, so we went after you and got you to the duca’s. After he was killed, and you disappeared, Verde ordered Yaz to remain underground to direct guerilla operations. He ordered me to get myself captured.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. He thought I’d make a valuable political prisoner. He figured I’d be treated well and could pick up information about the invaders. So I did it. But the plan failed. Traho didn’t think I was valuable at all. He thought I was an idiot. Can’t blame him—I’ve worked really hard to give the world that impression. He threw me in prison and was going to have me shot. Like he…like he had my parents shot.”
Mahdi’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t continue.
Serafina ached for him. She touched her forehead to his and put her arms around him. She knew what he was feeling, knew his pain all too well.
When he could, he spoke again.
“Lucia found out what was happening and got me out. I have no idea how. I do know that the Volneros and their friends have Traho’s favor, though. He spared their houses in the Golden Fathom and they get to come and go when they want. Lucia had me brought to Traho. I saw my chance to win his favor, to get close to him, so I bargained away Matali. I told him I’d give it to him bloodlessly, if he’d let me be a figurehead emperor. I said I didn’t care about the realm as long as I had plenty of currensea so I could keep partying. He agreed to try my plan. He said it would save him the time and expense of an attack.”
Serafina paled. “My gods, Mahdi…a takeover of Matali? When?”
“I don’t know. He’s not ready just yet. He’s still testing me, seeing whether he can fully trust me. He gave me command of two patrols to start with. I must’ve done something right, because he upped it to twenty right before he left Miromara to hunt you and Neela down. Now I’m in charge of sweeping the city. I go out three, sometimes four, times a day. He’s nervous, I think.”
“About what?”
“Talk of a Cerulean resistance.”
Hope leapt in Serafina’s heart. “Really, Mahdi? Who’s leading it?” she asked.
“We don’t know.”
“I—I thought maybe it was my mother or brother,” she said, her hope fading.
Mahdi looked at her, but didn’t say anything.
Serafina understood. She lowered her head. All these weeks, she’d refused to believe it. All these weeks, she’d held on to the possibility that her mother was still alive.
“Both of them?” she asked softly. “For sure?”
“We know Isabella is dead. We think Des
is. No one’s seen any sign of him. You know what he’s like. He’s fierce. If he was alive, no one could have kept him from Cerulea. He would have taken on Traho singlehandedly. I’m sorry, Sera.”
Serafina nodded. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I never got to say good-bye,” she said. “To my father, to Des, or to my mother. She died fighting, Mahdi. Did you know that? She died protecting me. I wish I could say thank you. I wish I could tell her how much I loved her….”
A low moan of grief escaped her. Mahdi pulled her to him and held her tightly. She balled her hands into fists and pounded them against him. He took her blows and continued to hold her, rocking her, saying nothing, for there was nothing to say. Her pain was too deep for words.
After some time, he released her. “There is some good news,” he said. “About your uncle. There have been sightings, and talk that he’s—”
“Heading north. To the Kobold.”
“You’ve heard. Word must be spreading. I’m not surprised. It’s talked about a lot here. In the Golden Fathom. At dinner parties at the di Remoras’ and the Volneros’. The nobles believe he’ll return.”
“You go to the Volneros’?” Serafina asked.
Mahdi nodded. Serafina looked away.
“Look at me, Sera,” Mahdi said, turning her face back to his. “Here’s the truth: I kissed Lucia that night in the Lagoon, okay? It meant nothing to me. I’m still kissing her…”
Sera winced.
“…and it still means nothing. It’s part of my job. Verde wants me to play up to Lucia because she and her mother are close to Traho. I’m going to keep playing up to her until I find out if Kolfinn’s the one who’s backing him.”
“Do you think he isn’t?”
“We haven’t been able to create a clear trail from Traho to Kolfinn. The death riders—they’re not Ondalinian. They’re all mercenaries, bought and paid for.”
“So it’s not Kolfinn.”
“I didn’t say that. It may just be that Kolfinn’s good at covering his wake. That way, he can take over realms and all the while tell the Council of Six that he’s not.”
Rogue Wave Page 8