For the first time since Sera, Des, and Yaz had swum into his room, Mahdi smiled. “Awesome move,” he said. “As soon as I get back, I’ll do everything I can to convince Vallerio to move even more troops out of your way.”
His words caused Sera’s smile to fade. “Mahdi, you can’t go back. If they find out about you…” She couldn’t bear to finish the thought.
“I have to, Sera. I’m your only source of information there, the only one who can warn you when Portia tells her spy to kill you.”
“Mahdi’s right,” Desiderio said solemnly. “He’s a lot more valuable to us in Cerulea than he is in the Kargjord.”
Sera nodded, though it felt like she was ripping her own heart out. “If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It won’t. I promise. I’ll be gone before the wedding,” Mahdi said. “And you three better get gone now.” He glanced at the door to his room. “I have to head to another meeting with Guldemar soon.”
Yaz nodded. “Dude, be careful,” he said, reaching for Mahdi’s hand. He pulled him close. The two mermen slapped each other’s backs. Then Desiderio did the same.
Mahdi dug in his desk drawer and pulled out a small box. “Here are some more transparensea pearls. Take a lot. Enough to keep you invisible all the way back to the Karg.”
Yaz and Des took some pearls and cast them. Sera didn’t.
“I’ll catch up,” she said.
She couldn’t leave Mahdi, not yet. It had been so long since she’d seen him, and during that time not a second had gone by that she didn’t think about him, long for him, and talk to him—if only in her head. Were a few short minutes with him so much to ask for?
“Sera, it’s too dangerous. You can’t—” Yazeed started to say.
Desiderio cut him off. “Come on, Yaz.”
Yazeed shook his head, clearly unhappy. “We’ll meet you just past the north gate. Don’t. Get. Caught.”
As soon as they were gone, Mahdi cupped Sera’s cheek. She curled her fingers around his wrist.
“I barely recognize you,” he said, his eyes traveling over her face. “Who is this fierce warrior in front of me? What happened to the merl with the long hair, and the gowns, and the conch glued to her ear?” His voice was teasing, but the pain in his eyes was real, and raw.
Sera knew that pain well. It mirrored her own.
“Where’s the merboy I once met who only wanted to play Gorgons and Galleons with my brother?” she asked. “The one who didn’t talk much. Who definitely didn’t want anything to do with the principessa his parents picked out for him. Do you think we’ll ever find those mer again?”
Mahdi shook his head. “We’ll find better versions of ourselves, Sera. Better than what we were, better than what we are.”
He gathered her into his arms then and held her close. Sera squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back her tears.
“Mērē dila, mērī ātmā,” he whispered, his cheek against hers. It was Matalin mer for My heart, my soul. “I’ll be with you soon, Sera, I promise. Until then, be careful. Please.”
“Swear to me that you’ll be careful. Swear it,” Sera said fiercely.
She had a terrible, unshakable feeling that something would go wrong, that she’d never hold him close or look into his beautiful eyes again. She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.
It was Mahdi who broke the kiss. “You’ve got to leave,” he said, his voice gentle but urgent. He touched his forehead to hers. “Good-bye, Sera. Never doubt that I love you,” he said, and then he let her go.
Sera cast a transparensea pearl. “I love you, too, Mahdi. Always.”
And then she was gone. Out of the window, out of the palace, heading for the north gate.
Desiderio and Yazeed were waiting for her there. Sera issued a series of dolphinlike clicks, and they clicked back. Then the three fighters swam fast, heading for open water.
None of them spoke until they’d left Scaghaufen far behind, then Des said, “I know you’re hurting, and I’m sorry. But it’ll be okay, Sera. Mahdi’s smart. He’s strong. He’ll survive.”
Sera thought about the long swim ahead of them, and the fact that Guldemar had given them nothing. She thought about the spy who was still in their midst, and the weapons and troops they lacked. She thought about the long, cold swim to the Southern Sea.
Then she laughed wearily and said, “Yeah, Des. But will we?”
“WE’RE USING SCRAP METAL salvaged from wrecks to reinforce the supply wagons,” Becca explained to Sera, pointing to a pile of twisted steel. “The goblins heat it, then nail it to the sides of the wagons. The tough part is getting the metal hot enough to bend. Our songcasters are having trouble getting their waterfire to burn high enough,” Becca said.
Sera frowned at this. “No luck finding a lava seam yet?” she asked.
Becca shook her head. “No, but I’m still on it. I won’t give up. Come on, the actual building site’s this way,” she said, motioning to Sera to follow her.
The two mermaids were in the westernmost part of the camp, where wagons that would transport the Black Fins’ supplies during their swim to the Southern Sea were being built. Two burly goblins walked a short distance behind them. Ever since Mahdi had told Sera, Des, and Yaz that Portia’s spy was also an assassin, Des had insisted that bodyguards accompany Sera everywhere.
Sera had come to the edge of the camp to see how the work was proceeding, but there was another reason she was out here: she needed to get Becca alone.
Sera had noticed tension between Becca and Ling back at headquarters, and she’d asked Ling about it. Ling had admitted that things were strained between them. “We had a bit of a blowup,” she’d said.
As Sera listened to Ling’s explanation, her concern had deepened to worry. The Becca in Ling’s account, so defensive and touchy, didn’t sound like Becca at all.
“Something’s wrong. Really wrong,” she’d said to Ling.
“I know. Becca’s hurting. It scares me. And not just for her sake,” Ling had said. “Sera, what if…what if she—”
Ling didn’t have to finish her sentence; Sera took her meaning. “No way, Ling. I don’t believe it.”
“Don’t or won’t?” Ling had asked, giving her a penetrating look.
“Don’t. Won’t. Can’t. Ever,” Sera had said. “A little while ago, I lost faith in myself. It nearly did me in. You helped me swim back from the brink. Now it’s my turn to help Becca. Because if the six of us lose faith in one another, we’ve lost everything. Becca’s not the spy. I know she’s not. But something’s not right. And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
Sera had swum through the camp to find Becca. Now that she had her, she was looking for an opening, a way to broach what was sure to be a difficult topic.
“Of course, after the wagons are built, we need to fill them,” Becca said with a sigh. “We’re still low on ammo, even with the shipment from the Näkki. I’m worried about that, Sera.”
Sera saw the opening she needed. She plunged in. “Becca, I’m worried about you.”
Becca laughed. She looked startled, and a little self-conscious. “Me? Why? I’m totally fine.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not yourself. Something’s bothering you. I wish you’d tell me what it is.”
“Really, Sera, there’s nothing to tell. Sure, I’ve got stress, but who doesn’t?” She smiled as she spoke, but the smile was forced, even desperate. “I mean, we’re getting the entire resistance ready to swim to the Southern Sea. There’s a lot to do, and—”
The two mermaids were still swimming. They were almost at the work site now. Sera stopped. She took her friend’s hand and looked her in the eye. “Becca,” she said gently, “whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, don’t you?”
Becca turned away. She looked desperate, like a creature who’d been cornered. Sera could see that she was struggling with herself. She wanted to talk but couldn’t. Something was holding her back.
Finally, she spoke, but the words were not what Sera wanted to hear.
“Hey. Wow. Would you look at that? I can’t believe those guys,” she exclaimed, pulling her hand free of Sera’s. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I have to do everything myself.” She darted off to the work site.
Sera, heaving a sigh of frustration, followed her. She soon saw that the goblins who were supposed to be building wagons weren’t sawing or hammering or doing much of anything. Instead they were standing in a semicircle, staring at the shallow pit they’d dug. It would be used to contain the waterfire needed to heat scrap metal, but it clearly wasn’t deep enough. Some of the goblins had their hands on their hips. Others were rubbing their chins or scratching their heads. By the time Sera caught up with her friend, Becca had picked up a shovel.
“Standing around won’t get any wagons built,” Becca fumed.
A goblin named Styg, seeing what Becca was doing, cautioned her in his language. Sera didn’t catch all of what he said, but she did hear the words Don’t! and Wait!
Becca flapped a hand at him. She raised the shovel, ready to plunge it into the seabed. The goblin’s eyes widened in alarm. He lunged at her, knocking the shovel out of her hands.
“Are you kidding me?” Becca exclaimed. “Why did you do that?” She started toward the shovel, but Styg held up a hand. He shook his head.
Becca, angry now, was ready to launch into an argument with him, but Sera stopped her. “Wait,” she said. “He’s trying to explain. Hear him out.” Her eyes were not on Becca anymore, but on the pit.
Styg stepped forward. Switching to mer, he said, “We found a lava seam just below the surface.” As he spoke, he bent down and used another shovel to carefully scrape away about half a foot of the seabed, allowing Sera and Becca to clearly see the orangey glow under the silt.
“We have to proceed very carefully,” he explained. “If she”—he nodded at Becca—“had hit the seam with her shovel, it would’ve gushed, and none of us would have survived to tell the tale.”
Becca winced. “I—I didn’t know. I didn’t see…” Her words trailed away. She looked down at her tail fins.
“The bad news is that we can’t work here,” Styg said. “The good news is—”
“You found a lava seam!” Sera exclaimed. “Well done, all of you!”
“I have a bubbler,” said Styg. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“What’s a bubbler?” Sera asked.
“It’s a tool for releasing a tiny bit of lava. There are different grades of molten rock. Glimrende is the finest, but it’s only good for lighting. Sterkur is heating grade—the strong stuff. It’s what we need.”
Styg pulled a sharkskin case out of his pocket. Inside was coiled a thin flexible tube with holes in it. One end had a hollow steel point; the other had a valve attached to it. Working slowly, Styg nudged the pointed end down into the lava. Then he shooed everyone back and opened the valve. A few seconds later, lava shot up into the hose and oozed out of the holes.
Styg bent down to examine it, then smiled. “Sterkur,” he said happily, looking up at Sera. “Grade A-1.”
“Yes!” Sera said, high-fiving him. “Do you know what this means?”
“That we can forge all the weapons and ammo we need,” Styg said.
“And make tools,” said Rök.
“We can light the entire camp,” chimed in Mulmig.
“And stew our enemies,” added Garstig.
Mulmig held her hands out to the bubbling lava and smiled with pleasure. “It’s been sooo long since I felt the heat of a lava pool,” she said. “Holy Kupfernickel, I missed it.”
“I miss glasses of nice, thick räkä,” Rök said wistfully.
Sera knew räkä was a drink made from fermented snail slime. Goblins were partial to it.
“And snask,” Mulmig added. “What I wouldn’t give for some right now.”
“Snask?” Sera asked. She hadn’t heard that term before.
“Pickled squid eyes,” Mulmig explained. “Soooo good!”
Garstig, grinning, pulled a little cloth bag out of his breast pocket. “My wife sent these by manta ray,” he said, opening the bag and passing it to Mulmig. “Have some.”
Mulmig’s eyes widened as she looked in the bag. “Snask!” she said excitedly. “Garstig, thank you!” She popped one in her mouth and chewed it, rolling her eyes with pleasure.
“Why don’t we sit down by the lava for a minute?” Styg suggested. “We need to figure out how best to channel the seam, and we might as well be warm while we’re doing it.”
“Hang on a minute….” Becca said, as the goblins moved toward the lava.
Oh, no, Sera thought. She’s going to scold them, or tell them to get back to work.
Her heart sank. As a leader, Sera knew that these small moments cemented the bonds between soldiers. They might cost a few minutes, but they repaid that investment tenfold by bolstering morale. Becca undoubtedly thought they were a waste of time.
But Becca surprised her.
“Before you sit down, I need to apologize,” she said.
Eyebrows shot up. The goblins looked amazed. Sera did, too.
“I didn’t trust you to do your jobs, and I should have. You found the lava seam we desperately needed. And,” she said sheepishly, “you stopped me from killing us all. I’m sorry. And thank you.”
The goblins nodded in acceptance and appreciation. Sera smiled at Becca. Becca smiled back, then turned and started to swim away. Sera swam after her.
“Hey,” Sera said, as she caught up to her friend. “I’m going to sit with the goblins for a minute. Why don’t you join us?”
“Sorry, I can’t,” Becca said. “I have so many things to do.”
“Sure, okay,” Sera said, disappointed. She’d been so certain that she’d be able to get Becca to confide in her. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, later,” Becca said.
But then, as Sera was about to return to the goblins, Becca reached out and touched her arm. “Listen, Sera…there’s something else I need to apologize for. My, um, bossiness. I know it’s been over-the-top. I’ll try to take it down a notch.”
Sera decided to try one last time. “Becca, whatever’s going on with you, it’s about more than bossiness. Talk to me. Please.”
Becca backed away. “I—I can’t, Sera. I just can’t,” she said helplessly. “And you don’t want me to, trust me. Because it’s bad. Really bad.”
A cold dread seized Sera. For an instant, she wondered if Ling was right. Could Becca be the spy? But she quickly pushed that thought from her mind.
“Becca, we’re dealing with a spy, food shortages, and a coming war,” she said. “Oh, and an unstoppable monster, too. Almost forgot about him. Is your thing really worse than all of that?”
Becca hesitated. In her eyes, Sera could see fear warring with trust. She hoped with all her heart that trust would win.
Becca clenched her fists. All in a rush, she said, “I’m in love with Marco. And he’s in love with me.”
Sera blinked, barely able to believe what she’d just heard. “Is that what all this is about?” she asked. “Marco from the infirmary? The cute doctor? Why would that upset you so much? He’s wonderful!”
Becca pressed her palms to her eyes. “Um, no, Sera. Not that Marco.”
“Hmm,” Sera said, puzzled. “I don’t know any other Marco.”
“Actually, you do.”
“No, I really don’t, Becs. I mean, there’s Marco the duca’s son….” She laughed. Marco was a human. One of the good ones. He’d saved Becca from the Williwaw. “But of course it’s not him,” she added. “Because you wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…” She stopped talking. Her smile faded. “Oh, no. Holy silt, Becca.”
“Exactly,” Becca said miserably. “It’s a total disaster. He’s the most wonderful boy I’ve ever met. He’s good and decent and kind, and it’s all wrong. No one in my world would accept him, and no one in his world is even supposed to know
I exist.”
“Hold on a minute,” Sera said. “It’s not wrong to love someone who’s good and decent and kind just because someone else disapproves.”
Becca raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why did you say ‘Oh, no’?”
“Because it’s also not easy. If you and Marco are serious about each other, you’re both going to face some pretty rough waters.” Sera put an arm around her. “But you don’t have to face them alone. You have me and the others. We’ll help you figure it out. That’s what friends are for.”
“Really?” Becca asked. The look on her face was heartbreakingly vulnerable.
“Really,” Sera replied. “Talk to them. You’ll see.”
Becca nodded tentatively. Sera could tell she was still worried. “I hope they understand, Sera. Compared to me, everyone else has normal relationships.”
Sera laughed. “Right. Especially me. I’m the queen of normal relationships. The merman I love is about to marry someone else. We have to pretend to hate each other. And his future wife is trying to kill me. Totally normal.”
Becca burst out laughing. For the first time since she’d arrived in the camp, the worry lines that constantly creased her forehead disappeared.
“Hey, Serafina, Becca…want some snask?” Garstig shouted. “You better hurry up if you do, before Mulmig scarfs it all.” He waved them over. The goblins made space for them around the lava.
“Come on,” Sera said, “let’s join them. I’m developing quite a taste for goblin treats.”
As Sera and Becca sat down, plans for building a forge and melting down shipwreck hulls were being eagerly discussed. The bag of snask was passed around, and Sera helped herself to a piece. She heard Vrăja’s voice in her head, and in her heart. Help Becca see that the warmest fire is the one that’s shared, the river witch had said.
As Sera watched Becca gamely pop a pickled eyeball into her mouth, she silently thanked Vrăja, then she watched the warmth of friendship work its own magic.
MANON LAVEAU’S black eyes glittered. From within the roots of the giant cypress where she was hiding, in the waters off Robichaux’s Swamp, she could spy the death riders’ camp. At its edge was a cage with iron bars. In that cage was a mermaid, lying motionless, her face turned away.