Her arrow hit home. The force of its impact sent Traho hurtling into a wall. As he sank, his blood billowing in the water, his comrades disappeared down the hallway. Ten Black Fins raced after them.
Sera was up off the floor and on Traho instantly, sending his weapon skittering away from him with a flip of her tail.
The arrow was sticking out of the merman’s chest. Blood was pouring from the wound and dripping from his mouth, but he still tried to get to the dagger in his belt. Sera slapped it out of his hand.
Traho’s eyes met hers. “You’re a killer,” he said cruelly, struggling to speak. “Just like your uncle. You must be happy to see me die.”
Once, these words would have pierced Sera’s soul, but no longer.
“I’m not a killer; I’m a soldier,” she told him. “And I’m not happy. Even about your death. Which means I’m nothing like my uncle.”
Traho lunged for her, but she easily avoided him.
“Stop it. It’s over, Traho,” she said.
His lips twitched into a blood-smeared grin. “It’s not over, it’s only beginning. Good luck…Your Grace,” he said mockingly. “You’ll need it.”
He gave one last groan, and his chest sank. He was gone.
“Come on,” Sera said, continuing down the hallway, motioning to her troops to follow. Mahdi, Yaz, Neela, Des, Ling, and Becca, and about a dozen more fighters were still with her.
As they turned the corner to the Regina’s Loggia, another gruesome sight greeted them: the ten Black Fins who’d raced ahead after Traho, all mermen, lay dead on the floor.
There was a mermaid among them, too.
Sera recognized her immediately: Portia. A bloodstain bloomed across her chest like petals of a crimson sea flower. A hole over her heart was the flower’s dark center.
Vallerio was by her side, holding one of her hands in his. The Black Fins didn’t have long to absorb the scene, though, for the death riders who’d survived the skirmish started firing on them.
A spear hit a pillar next to Sera, showering her with debris.
“Take cover!” she yelled, waving everyone behind her.
When her fighters were safe, she called to her uncle.
“Call them off, Vallerio. It’s over. Give yourself up!”
Another spear, fired at her head, was his answer.
Sera turned to Yazeed. He was an excellent shot. “Yaz—”
“Got this.”
“I want him alive.”
“He will be.”
“It’s hopeless, Vallerio. You know it is!” Sera shouted, keeping the death riders’ attention on her. “Give yourselves up! No one else has to die!”
As Sera spoke, she picked up a chunk of stone that had fallen from the ceiling. Yazeed bent low, then leaned out from the pillar ever so slightly. He aimed his speargun, took a breath, and held it.
Sera threw the stone high up in the water. The death riders fired at it, leaving Vallerio undefended for a split second. It was all Yazeed needed. He squeezed his trigger. His spear sank into Vallerio’s right shoulder. Vallerio screamed, dropped his gun, and tried to pull the arrow out with his left hand, but it was buried too deeply.
Desiderio, Ling, and Becca all got shots off. Within seconds, the death riders defending Vallerio were dead.
Vallerio surrendered, raising his hands.
Desiderio raced to him, his own hands clenched into fists, his eyes wild. Mahdi was right behind him. And then he was in front of Des, trying to hold him off.
“Des, no,” he said. “Not like this. It’s done. He surrendered.”
“He murdered my parents, Mahdi. Get out of my way.”
“No. I won’t let him make you a murderer, too. Back away, Des. I mean it.”
Desiderio whirled away from Mahdi and slammed his tail into a wall. Over and over again. Drops of blood flew from his fins.
Neela swam to him. “Stop it, Des,” she said gently. “Stop.” She offered him her hands. He squeezed them hard, trying to get himself under control.
Meanwhile, Mahdi ripped his belt off, yanked Vallerio’s hands behind his back, and bound his wrists. The end of the spear quivered in Vallerio’s flesh. He grimaced in pain.
Sera had swum out from behind the pillar, too. She floated in front of her uncle now, her crossbow lowered. His eyes met hers. She knew them so well. They were darkly blue, like her mother’s.
“Your own sister,” she said to him. “She was good and kind, and she loved you. So did my father. You killed them both. You made me an orphan. How could you do it?”
Vallerio’s eyes widened. He feigned surprise. “Sera, is that you? What are you doing with this sea scum? Did they kidnap you?”
Sera shook her head in disgust. “You coward. You don’t even have the guts to own up to what you did.”
For a few horrible seconds, rage and grief boiled up inside her, just as it had in Desiderio. The urge grew stronger, overwhelming her. Her finger tightened on the trigger of her weapon, but as it did, she thought she heard laughter, low and gurgling. Abbadon’s laughter. And she knew that if she did this, she would be no better than a monster.
She lowered her crossbow. “Too many have suffered for too long because of lawlessness and violence. Vallerio di Merrovingia, I arrest you for murder and treason. Your case will be tried in a court of law and heard by a jury of your peers. Take him to the dungeons and put him in a cell,” she said, motioning two fighters to him. “You’ll find plenty of empty ones.”
“Murder? Treason?” Vallerio echoed, still playacting. “Sera, what are you saying? I saved Miromara from the Ondalinian invaders! I made sure the realm had a ruler! We all thought you were dead!”
“You’re a good actor, Uncle. You fooled my mother. But you don’t fool me,” Sera said bitterly.
“You don’t believe I knew that you were alive? I’m your uncle, for gods’ sake. You can’t believe that.”
“I heard you, Vallerio,” Sera said, her voice shaking with fury. “I was in the regina’s private chamber after Lucia’s coronation, thanks to a transparensea pearl. I heard you and Portia congratulating each other on killing my mother, getting rid of me, and putting your own daughter on the throne. I know about the deal you made with Orfeo. Soon, the rest of the waters will, too.”
Vallerio renewed his protests, but Sera turned away from him and addressed her fighters.
“Rök, Mulmig, find the other commanders. Tell them the battle for the palace is over and they should give our enemies a chance to surrender. Regelbrott, Styg,” she continued, “take the dead to the stateroom. The bodies of Black Fins and loyal Miromarans will be buried with full honors and heroes’ dirges. The body of Portia Volnero, and of every other traitor, will be buried in a common grave in the Grayrock Barrens.”
“No! You can’t do that! She was a duchessa!” Vallerio shouted, struggling against his bonds.
Sera spun around. Eyes blazing, she said, “She was a murderer, Vallerio. She sold her regina’s life, and her merfolk’s lives, for wealth and power. Summon Horok to her, and to the rest of the death rider sea scum—”
“No!” Vallerio bellowed.
“—with a gallows dirge.”
A gallows dirge was the final rite used to return the soul of a condemned criminal to the sea. It was the deepest dishonor, and in Miromara’s long history only a handful of noblemer had received it—most of them from the Volnero family.
Sera bent down to her uncle, so they were face-to-face. “My fighters will sing a gallows dirge for Lucia, too,” she said. “Unless you tell me where she is.”
Vallerio shook his head.
“If I find her, I’ll arrest her. She’ll be charged and tried, just like you will be. If one of my fighters finds her, though, she might well be killed. The Black Fins have suffered heavy casualties today. They won’t be in any mood to spare her life. Is that what you want? For your daughter to die on the floor like your wife just did?”
Vallerio lowered his head. “She’s…on her way to
Portia’s rooms,” he said in a broken voice. “There’s a…secret door—next to the mantel. It leads to the tunnels. Please, Sera…please don’t kill her, I beg you.”
Sera addressed her fighters again. “We have one more traitor to flush out—the most dangerous of all. Keep your weapons raised and your wits about you.”
Sera, her fighters at her side, raced off toward the royal apartments.
As she disappeared down the hall, Vallerio raised his eyes. And smiled.
SERA STARED AT THE DOOR to Portia Volnero’s rooms. They had once been Isabella’s. Sera had swum through this door often as a little merl, eager to see her mother, to spend a precious few minutes with her, just the two of them. She remembered turning the knob and giggling as she pushed the door open, knowing that her mother would fondly scold her, saying, “Sera, can’t you ever learn to knock?” before gathering her into her arms.
Those days were gone. Her mother was gone. That little merl was gone.
Sera wasn’t going to knock. Not now. Not ever again.
“Do it, Yaz,” she said.
He backed up, then spun around and slammed his tail into the door. It flew open. Sera and the others rushed inside, weapons drawn.
Lucia was floating by the lavaplace’s mantel, her back toward them. She wore a heavy walrus-fur wrap around her shoulders and held a sea-silk pouch in her hand. A mica-covered panel to the left of the mantel had swung open.
“Stop right there, Lucia!” Sera shouted. “I have a crossbow. Don’t make me use it.”
Lucia did as she was told.
“Put your hands in the air!”
As Lucia raised her arms, Desiderio and Mahdi swam to her. Desiderio took the pouch from Lucia. He opened it.
“Currensea,” he said, then yanked Lucia’s hands behind her back. Mahdi grabbed a tie from one the sea-silk draperies and tossed it to him.
Throughout it all, Lucia was strangely quiet.
Desiderio bound her hands. Serafina put her crossbow down, then swam to her. “Lucia Volnero, I charge you with treason. You’re under arrest.”
“I have nothing to say.” Lucia’s voice sounded hollow. Her beautiful face was composed. She stared straight ahead of herself, seemingly resigned to her fate, her eyes empty and dead.
“Your father survived the fighting; your mother didn’t,” Sera informed her, feeling pity for her enemy, though she didn’t want to.
“I have nothing to say,” Lucia repeated.
“Take her to the dungeons,” Sera ordered. Two Black Fins swam up to Lucia. Each took an arm and led her away.
“That’s weird. I expected a fight to the death,” Mahdi said, as Lucia disappeared through the doorway. “The secret door was open. She didn’t even make a swim for it.”
“Maybe she saw the Black Fins kill her mother. Maybe she didn’t know how to make her way through the tunnels. Maybe it was all too much,” Sera said.
“Sera, I’m going to rendezvous with the goblin commanders,” Desiderio said. “I want to regroup, then put down any enemy holdouts.”
“Ling, go with him. Take everyone else, too,” Sera said. “I’ll be right behind you. We meet back in the stateroom in an hour.”
The group started off, but Mahdi stayed behind. “You okay?”
Sera nodded, but then alarm filled her eyes as she saw Mahdi’s jacket. “You’re not, though.”
Mahdi followed her gaze to his side and grimaced. His jacket was soaked with blood.
“Are you going to die, too?” she asked in a choked voice. Her face crumpled. She covered it with her hands and wept.
Mahdi was at her side in an instant. “Hey, hey…it’s okay, Sera. It’s not as bad as it looks. A couple of stitches and I’ll be fine.”
He pulled her close and held her tightly. Sera grabbed fistfuls of his jacket and buried her head in his chest. “So many gone because of them, Mahdi…so many.”
“Shh, Sera. We won. It’s over. There won’t be any more killing. Not after today,” Mahdi said, still holding her.
After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and said, “I’m keeping you here, and I shouldn’t. You need to see a doctor.”
“In a bit,” Mahdi said. “I’m going to check out the hallway first, make sure it’s totally clear. What about you?”
Sera shook her head. “I—I can’t…I need a moment. Alone. I need to get ahold of myself,” she said, her voice still quavering.
“It’s your mother, isn’t it? Being here, in this room, reminds you of her.”
Sera looked down at the floor. “She wouldn’t be very happy if she could see me right now,” she said. “She would tell me that those who would govern others must first govern themselves.”
Mahdi laughed. “That sounds just like her.” He lifted Sera’s face. “Take the time you need, Sera. I’ll come back for you in a minute. Your mer are scared. They’ve just come through a battle. They need to see you, but they need to see you strong.”
Sera nodded. Mahdi left, and she made her way over to the sofa in front of the lavaplace. She sat down and closed her eyes. Never had she felt so weary. She’d survived the maligno and Alítheia. She’d fought a battle and won it. Portia Volnero was dead. Vallerio and Lucia were captured.
It’s over, Mahdi had said. But Sera felt like Traho’s words were the truer ones: it’s only beginning. Now she had to pick up the pieces. To bury the dead. To reassure her frightened mer. Now, for the first time, she had to rule.
“How, Mom? How?” she said aloud.
The words came back to her, as they had time and time again. The love of my people is my strength.
She would need that love in the days to come, as she tried to put her broken realm back together.
Sera opened her eyes. It was time to go. As she started to rise, she felt something brush against her tail.
A goby or a blenny, she thought, remembering how schools would swim through the palace, despite the maids’ best efforts to keep them out.
She looked down, but it wasn’t a fish that had brushed her tail. It was a tentacle, thin, withered, and a sickly shade of green. Another tentacle wound around her tail, and then another. A face peeked out from under the settee. It was withered, too, but Sera knew it.
“Sylvestre?” she whispered, joy and disbelief mingling in her voice. “Is it really you?”
The little green octopus nodded. A tentacle wound around Sera’s wrist.
“I never thought I’d see you again!” Sera said. “What happened to you? Are you sick?”
Sylvestre nodded again and Sera, her heart filling with love for the little pet she thought she’d lost, leaned down to scoop him up in her arms.
And that was what saved her life.
Because a heartbeat later, a dagger sliced through the water behind her, missing her back by a scale’s breadth.
“I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY!” a malicious voice hissed.
Sera whirled around. She saw a knife blade glinting. A shadowy figure lunged at her again. Sera darted away. As she backed toward the mantel, she was able to get a look at her assailant.
“Lucia?”
The emotionless face, the long black hair…Lucia looked just as she had moments ago. The only difference was her clothing. She must’ve changed.
But how? Sera’s mind scrabbled for an explanation. How did she escape and get back here?
“I have nothing to say,” another voice whispered, to Sera’s right.
Sera’s head jerked around. “It can’t be!”
There was another Lucia. She was advancing on Sera, too, and she also had a dagger.
“I’m seeing things,” Sera whispered. “This must be an illusio spell.”
But then the Lucia at her right lunged at her, dagger out, and Sera learned that she was no illusion. She skirted the thrust, but not quickly enough. The dagger opened a gash in her arm.
Great Neria, Sera’s mind yammered. They’re malignos!
Sera’s crossbow was on the floor, all the way on the other side of
the room. There was no way to get it. She panicked, but then remembered she had a sword at her hip, one she’d taken from the guard room in the dungeons.
She pulled it out of its sheath, and when the Lucia on her right attacked again, Sera parried its blade, then thrust with her own.
It pierced the creature’s chest. Sera drew the blade out, then watched in horror as silt—not blood—poured from the wound.
The maligno moved toward her again.
“I have nothing to say,” came a growl from behind her.
Sera twisted around. There were three of them now. They were closing in on her, pushing her back toward the lavaplace once more.
With a warrior’s cry, Sera lunged at the closest maligno, swinging her sword high. The blade severed the creature’s head cleanly.
The body fell to the floor, silt pouring from its neck. Sera charged the next one, decapitating it, too. By the time she’d killed the third, she was panting heavily. Her entire body was trembling.
She passed a shaking hand across her brow. Lucia had made these three things, plus one more—the one her fighters had taken to the dungeon.
Sera’s blood turned to ice as she realized what that meant: the real Lucia was still at large.
A click, sharp and metallic, sounded behind her.
Slowly, Sera turned around.
Lucia was floating only feet away from her, in the entrance to the tunnels. She was holding a speargun.
Before Sera could even scream, Lucia raised it.
And fired.
IT WAS OVER in a split second, yet in Sera’s mind, it would last forever.
In the hours and days and weeks that followed, images and sounds would come back to her. A blur of green. The sensation of falling. The spear hissing through the water. Stars exploding behind her eyes as her head hit the floor.
Pain, and a heavy weight. Crushing her. Squeezing the air—and the life—out of her. She felt something warm seeping over her skin, into her clothing. Her vision cleared. She could see the ceiling, covered with bright anemones, feather worms, and brittle stars.
And then Lucia was leaning over her, her face beautiful and cunning.
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