Waterfire Saga (4 Book Series)

by Jennifer Donnelly

  Orfeo raised an eyebrow. “My, my. Someone’s done her homework.”

  Astrid worried that she’d gone too far and he would stop talking. But he continued relating his tale with relish, as though he’d been waiting centuries to tell it.

  “Yes, my sacrifices. The mages tracked me down to Morsa’s temple. They tried to get me to come out. When I refused, they battered the doors down. They had seen Abbadon and vowed to kill it, so I ordered Abbadon to kill them, and anyone else who opposed me. The mages fought hard. They used all their magic. During an unguarded moment, when I was trying to catch my breath, Merrow attacked me with her sword, rather than a spell, and dealt me a mortal blow. Or so she thought.”

  Astrid believed she knew how Orfeo had survived. Could she get him to admit it?

  “It was Morsa’s talisman, wasn’t it? That’s what saved you. You used a pearl to hold your soul. Just like Horok does.”

  “The student will soon overtake her teacher,” Orfeo said, admiration in his voice. “Yes, Astrid, I did. And then Merrow ripped Morsa’s pearl from my neck and used it, and the other talismans, to open the Carceron. She thought she was so powerful….” He shook his head at the memory. “But she and the others could never have forced the monster into the prison by themselves. I was the one who told it to go in. I spoke to it from the pearl, telling it to sleep, to be safe. Promising I would come for it one day.”

  “The mages believed they’d put an end to Abbadon,” Astrid said, amazed. “Instead, they preserved it for you until you could gather the talismans.”

  Orfeo nodded, smiling with pride. “It has taken time. Merrow threw the black pearl into the Qanikkaaq. Had it not been for a greedy fish, and an even greedier Viking, I might still be inside the maelstrom.”

  “How did you create Abbadon?” Astrid pressed.

  “Now, my dear, that must stay a secret. If no one knows what the monster is made of, no one can kill it.”

  “I would never tell anyone. Not after what you’ve done for me,” Astrid lied.

  Orfeo’s mood changed abruptly; Astrid felt the eyes behind his glasses boring through her. “Do you think I’m a fool, child? I wouldn’t have survived for four thousand years if I was. I know that you’ve come to take my pearl—or at least try to—and carry it back to your friends.”

  Astrid’s cheeks burned. He’d seen right through her clumsy attempt to glean information. What had ever made her think she could trick him?

  “You’re loyal, and I admire that,” Orfeo said. “But soon those loyalties will be tested. You’ll have to make a choice between your friends and me. That’s your answer, Astrid. That’s why I summoned you. You’re here to choose. Choose your friends, and you choose defeat. Choose me, and you choose victory, power, and immortality. Alma and I, together with you, our descendant, our daughter, will begin the world anew. You’ll become a great mage, too, second only to myself. No one, and nothing, will equal our might.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Orfeo. I’ve made my choice.”

  “Have you?” Orfeo said enigmatically. He ran a hand over a row of giant conch shells on one of his shelves.

  “Yes, I have. I—”

  “Sing, Astrid.”

  “What?” Astrid said, caught off-balance.

  “Sing.”

  She shook her head. “I see where you’re going, but it won’t work. So just kill me and get it over with.” Astrid sounded a lot braver than she felt.

  “Kill you?” Orfeo echoed, recoiling. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re free to leave here anytime you like.”

  “I am?” Astrid was so surprised, she didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

  “Yes. But before you do, grant me one small favor.”

  Astrid looked at him warily.

  “I tried my best to heal you. At least let me see if I’ve succeeded.”

  “But I—I can’t,” Astrid protested. Panic gripped her at the very idea. What if she tried and failed?

  “Couldn’t,” Orfeo corrected. “Try.”

  “My throat hurts too much.”

  Orfeo clucked his tongue. “Still afraid, aren’t you?”

  He’d seen through her again. Astrid looked at the floor. “Yes,” she admitted.

  “You were only a child when you swallowed that coin. And it was so hard to be a mermaid without magic, wasn’t it?” Orfeo said, his voice so understanding. “Is there anything worse for an Ondalinian? It hurt so much to hear the whispers, the laughter, the jokes. It hurt to disappoint your mother and father…”

  Astrid felt as if he could see inside her, into her very soul. For her, a mermaid used to hiding her true feelings, the scrutiny was painful.

  “…but you were never a disappointment to me.”

  Astrid raised her head. She looked at him uncertainly. Why would he say that—never a disappointment? She couldn’t have disappointed him, or pleased him, either. She’d only just met him.

  “I watched you,” he continued. “I was a face in the crowd at the Citadel. A judge passing by you in the Hall of Justice. A guard in the royal quarters. Sometimes I was a sea lion, a narwhal, a sculpin. I’ve watched you every chance I had, Astrid.”

  Astrid made a face. “Um, Orfeo? That’s creepy.”

  Orfeo laughed. “No, child, that’s love. I was the hippokamp that threw Tauno when he teased you on a hunt, and the sea leopard that bit his backside when he made a cruel remark.”

  Astrid laughed, too; she couldn’t help herself. She remembered both of those incidents so clearly. It had felt so good to see Tauno humiliated after he’d humiliated her. She felt an unbidden rush of gratitude toward Orfeo.

  “That was you?” she asked. “Really?”

  Orfeo nodded. “I’m telling you these things to prove that I would never be cruel to you, Astrid. You are my blood, my daughter. Sing, child. Try.”

  Astrid wanted to. So badly. But it took more courage than she possessed.

  Orfeo must’ve seen that, for he offered her his hand. “Remember what it felt like to make music,” he said. “Remember, Astrid. Sing.”

  Astrid gazed at him, feeling like a struggling swimmer caught by an undertow.

  I’m letting him come too close again, she thought. I need to leave him, leave this room, leave Shadow Manse. Now.

  But she couldn’t make herself go. Her longing to sing again was too great. She needed her magic like she needed to breathe.

  I’ll use it to defeat him, she promised herself. I let him heal me. Now I’ll let him teach me, and then I’ll use what I’ve learned to get the black pearl.

  Astrid took Orfeo’s hand, and took a deep breath.

  THE PAIN WAS TERRIFYING.

  Astrid felt like she’d swallowed broken glass. Only a few notes came out of her mouth, and they sounded rough and screechy—like a boat scraping over rocks.

  Orfeo squeezed her hand. “Again,” he urged.

  Astrid coughed self-consciously and tried once more. This time, the notes sounded like rough, rusty music.

  “Oh, my gods!” she whispered. “I can sing. Orfeo, I can sing!”

  Happiness flooded through her. It overwhelmed her, making her forget everything else. She forgot all about the black pearl. She forgot her friends, their quest, Abbadon. For a few seconds, she forgot herself.

  “Try a simple spell,” Orfeo suggested, encouraging her.

  “Okay.” She thought to back the first spells she’d ever learned, swallowed hard, then sang.

  Goddess, Neria, give me aid!

  Into this iceberg help me fade!

  A split second later, her entire body was mottled in shades of white, blue, and gray. Her eyes lit up. She gasped. “Did I do this?” she asked. Before Orfeo could reply, she said, “I’m going to try another one! A harder one!”

  “Not yet,” he cautioned, holding his hands up. “You proved to yourself that you can sing again. Don’t rush things and strain your vocal cords. One songspell a day, until your throat is completely healed.”

 
Astrid was disappointed, but she nodded. “I can at least listen to some conchs, though,” she said, as Orfeo undid her camouflage spell. She was greedy for more magic.

  Before he could answer her, they both heard a knock on the door.

  “Enter!” Orfeo called out.

  A servant swam inside. “Captain Traho is here, my lord. He has something he wishes to give you.”

  Astrid stiffened at Traho’s name. Why was he here? What did he have for Orfeo? She hoped to the gods it wasn’t one of the talismans.

  “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a matter I must attend to,” Orfeo said, heading for the door. “Feel free to listen to any songspell you wish.”

  “Orfeo…” Astrid said.

  He turned back to her; a questioning expression on his face.

  “Thank you.”

  Her words were sincere. She was grateful to him. For giving her her voice back. For giving her her magic back.

  For giving her the very weapons she would use against him.

  Orfeo smiled, and then he was gone. The servant closed the door behind him.

  Astrid immediately swam to a shelf. She had her magic, and she had access to every spell known to merkind. Surely one of them could help her get the pearl.

  The strange trancelike state she’d been in earlier was gone now. It troubled her that she had fallen under Orfeo’s spell for even a brief second, but she shook off the uneasy feeling. It had only happened because she’d been overwhelmed by emotion.

  It would not happen again.

  “THE METAL from this one hull alone will give us thousands of spearheads,” Desiderio yelled excitedly, patting a barnacle-covered chunk of a sunken ship. “And there’s still a trawler to cut up!”

  “We’ll churn out tens of thousands!” Yazeed shouted. “With the forge up and running now, the goblins are going day and night.”

  “But is that enough? Will we make it in time?” Sera bellowed. The Black Fins were due to start for the Southern Sea in two weeks. Their supply wagons needed to be full of arrows and spears by then.

  Yazeed answered. “No problem! We’ll have all the ammo we need!”

  Even though both mermen were shouting, Sera could hardly hear them for all the noise. Behind them, lava bubbled, steam hissed, the forge roared, and the goblins busily sawed through thick plates of steel.

  She’d come to check on the progress the goblins were making, and though the noise was deafening, and the commotion dizzying, Sera couldn’t have been happier. Right after Styg and his crew found the lava seam, she’d given orders to construct the forge near the lava seam and start casting ammo.

  The lava seam was such a gift. The lava and the steel from the ships cost nothing. Sera no longer needed to deal with the Näkki or risk her troops being ambushed.

  The three friends left the forge and headed back to headquarters. They were still talking a fathom a minute about provisions and didn’t notice Mulmig waving at them until she was right in their faces.

  “Did you hear?” she asked excitedly, before Sera could even greet her.

  “Hear what?” Sera asked, her fins prickling. She didn’t like surprises.

  “Ling solved the puzzle ball!”

  “No way!” Yazeed said.

  “Yes way!” Mulmig replied. “The news is moving through camp like a tsunami!”

  “Where is she?” Sera asked, rigid with anticipation. Did this mean the spy would soon be outed?

  “She shut herself up in the headquarters cave so she can figure out the Arrow of Judgment.”

  “Have you seen it?” Des asked.

  “Not yet. No one has. But Ling says it’s like a compass. Only instead of pointing to directions, the arrow points to crimes. Where the word north would be on a compass is the word innocent. Other points correspond to words like robber or murderer. Ling says—”

  But Sera didn’t wait to hear the rest. She was off like a shot. Des and Yazeed were right on her tail. There was one word she desperately hoped was on that compass: spy.

  When the three reached the cave, they found Ling seated at the table, busy writing on a piece of kelp parchment. Members of Sera’s inner circle were with her. Becca and Neela were watching her. They’d been going over the next day’s work schedule. Sophia was there, too. She’d been reviewing the weapons inventory. Little Coco had been counting doubloons into stacks, preparing a payment to Meerteufel traders, her shark Abelard nearby. They all turned their heads expectantly toward Sera.

  “Ling, did you really—” she breathlessly started to ask.

  “Crack the puzzle? Yeah, I did. Finally!” Ling exclaimed. “I tested the Arrow of Judgment out a few times, then I put the puzzle ball away for safekeeping until you got back. Everyone’s so excited about it, Sera. You won’t believe it when you see it.”

  “Tested it out? How?” asked Sera.

  “I found out who started the brawl in the mess hall last night, and who’s been stealing from the food stores. And both of them confessed. Isn’t that amazing? All you have to do is hold the puzzle ball in front of someone and ask it if that someone is innocent or guilty. The arrow does the rest.”

  “Ling, do you know what this means?” Yazeed asked in a hushed voice.

  “Yes. We can finally root out the spy. I’m figuring out a plan now. I’m so glad you’re all here. I want to get everyone’s input. I thought we could start at the west side of the camp and work our way across. Eventually the arrow will point to the traitor. It’s just a matter of time until—”

  An anguished cry interrupted her. It had come from the other end of the table.

  Sera, startled, turned to see that it was Sophia. As Sera watched, Sophia rose from the table, took a few faltering strokes toward her, then crumpled.

  “Soph, what is it? Are you hurt?” Sera asked, rushing to her.

  Sophia didn’t answer. She just sat on the silty cave floor, her head bowed, her hair falling into her eyes.

  “Sophia, what’s going on?” Sera pressed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s me,” Sophia whispered. She raised her face. It was deathly pale. “It’s me,” she said again. “I’m the spy.”

  Sera backed away. She felt as if Sophia had just reached inside her and crushed her heart. The others were all looking at the two of them, too shocked to speak.

  “Soph, no,” Sera said. “Not you. It can’t be you.”

  “It’s been tearing me apart. I want to confess. Now,” she said. “I don’t want to be shown for what I really am by a puzzle ball.”

  Sophia had been with the Black Fins since their earliest days. Sera had chosen her to go on the raid of the Miromaran treasury vaults, and she was alive only because of Sophia. A death rider had shot her with a speargun as the Black Fins were escaping. Sophia had cut the line, killed the death rider, and gotten Sera to safety.

  Afterward, they’d hidden in the ruins of Merrow’s reggia, and Sera had confided in her there. She’d told her about the Iele, the talismans, Abbadon—everything. Sophia had even defended the Näkki’s arms shipment from the death riders’ ambush. Sera had trusted her with her life, and the lives of their fellow Black Fins.

  “Sophia…why?” she asked now, stunned.

  “A merman, his name was Baco Goga, approached me one night, when I was on patrol outside of our old headquarters in the Blue Hills,” Sophia explained haltingly. “He told me he wanted me to spy on the resistance for him. I told him where he could go. He handed me something—two wedding rings. They belonged to my parents. My mother and father had been taken away when Cerulea was invaded. Baco said his next gift to me would be their fingers. Then their hands. He said he’d kill them piece by piece if I refused to cooperate.”

  A searing mixture of grief and anger had filled Sera upon learning of Sophia’s betrayal, but another emotion pushed those aside now: fear.

  She cast her mind back to the night the death riders attacked the camp, when Sera had decided to tell her fighters that they’d be heading to Cerulea, while
she was really planning to go to the Southern Sea. Sophia hadn’t been there, thank the gods, when she’d announced that ploy to her inner circle. But had she somehow found out the real plan?

  “What does my uncle know?” Sera asked her now. “What did you tell Baco?”

  “As little as I could. I tried my best to protect you, Sera. I—”

  Sera bent down to Sophia. She grabbed her chin roughly. “What did you tell him?” she shouted.

  “The size of your army, the timing of the weapons shipments, the fact that you didn’t have a lava seam, the number of refugees that came to the Kargjord and…and Ava’s whereabouts.”

  Sera swore. “Did you tell him about Cerulea?”

  Sophia nodded miserably.

  Thank the gods, Sera thought. Vallerio would think they were headed for the city; he’d have no clue about their actual strategy. But there was one more question—and it filled Sera with such terror, she could hardly bear to ask it.

  “Did you tell Baco about Mahdi?”

  Sophia shook her head. “No. I didn’t, Sera. I swear to the gods.”

  Sera’s entire body sagged with relief. She let go of Sophia’s chin. As she rose, Sophia grabbed her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Sera. So sorry,” she sobbed. “Please forgive me. I had no choice. You understand, don’t you? What could I do? Baco has my parents!”

  Sera looked down at Sophia’s hand, clutching her own so tightly. And then, her heart breaking, she shook her off.

  “Sera?” Sophia said in a choked voice. “Sera, no…please.”

  “Death riders killed my parents,” Sera said. “Right in front of me. They’ve killed thousands of Miromaran parents. Yet none of us orphaned by them have betrayed our sisters and brothers.”

  She turned to the two goblin soldiers guarding the doorway. “Take her to the prison,” she said. “She’s to be court-martialed, and if found guilty—”

  “No!” Sophia screamed.

  Sera swallowed hard, almost choking on the words she had to say. “If found guilty, she’s to be executed. And so it will be for anyone who betrays the resistance.”

  “Sera, please! I’m sorry! Don’t do this…please!” Sophia shrieked.