“Why…why are you—” Sera struggled to speak.
Lucia cut her off. “Because you enchanted Mahdi, and I plan to break that enchantment.”
“I didn’t…cast an enchantment…” Sera murmured. It was so hard to make words come. But it didn’t even matter. Lucia wasn’t listening.
“You tricked him. And then forced him to spy for you and your shabby little resistance. But I’m going to free him by killing you. It’s the only way to truly make him mine.”
“Lucia, no…” The mermaid was as evil as her parents. She was going to murder her in cold blood. “Please…don’t do this…”
“I won’t. I’d just plunge a knife through your heart, and that would be too easy a death. I want you to suffer. A friend of mine’s going to see that you do. Give her my best.”
Sera made one last desperate attempt to escape. She rose from the chair and took a few, faltering strokes, but then, overcome by pain, she collapsed to the floor. As she rolled onto her back, the room started to swirl. She could see the chandelier above her. It seemed to come alive before her eyes. Its bronze arms, green with corrosion, became as fluid as an octopus’s tentacles.
Now Sera knew she was hallucinating.
“It’s over, Serafina,” Lucia said triumphantly. “I win, you lose.”
She barked an order at the maligno, and seconds later, Serafina felt it take hold of her arms and yank her up off the floor. She fought it, clawing at it. Her fingers gouged its cheek. Instead of blood flowing from the wound, silt poured out.
Sera screamed.
“Sicario, do your work,” Lucia said.
The sea scorpion scuttled out from under a table and cruelly stung Serafina again.
There was pain, white and blinding, and then Sera dimly felt the maligno throw her over his shoulder, as if she were nothing more than a sack of garbage. The pain grew. The paralysis took over.
The last thing Sera saw was Lucia’s cruel, mocking smile. The last thing she felt was Lucia tugging at her hand.
And then there was nothing. Nothing at all.
BECCA, A HOOD PULLED up over her red hair, swam up to the door of the ancient palazzo. With a wary glance around, she lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it drop.
Tiny sand smelt, spooked by the sound, darted for cover, their bodies flashes of silver in the murk. Slender pipefish hid in clumps of seaweed. A squid vanished in a cloud of ink. The noise echoed loudly down the current. Becca winced, worried that she’d alerted an enemy to her presence. She waited, nervously flipping her tail fins, but no one answered.
“This must be the place,” she said to herself. Though it was well past midnight, lights from the human city above penetrated the dark water of the Lagoon deeply enough that Becca could see the whole of the palazzo’s ornate front. It matched Neela’s description.
Built of white marble, with a tall, Gothic doorway, the palazzo’s facade also boasted a carved relief of the goddess Neria, and a frieze of sea flowers, fish, and shells.
On either side of the heavy doors were stone faces with blind eyes and open mouths. Neela said the faces had spoken when she and Sera had been taken to the palazzo by the Praedatori. They were silent now.
Had she come all this way for nothing?
Her friends’ voices echoed in her head. They’d tried to talk her out of this.
“It’s too much of a long shot,” Neela had said.
“It’s way too dangerous,” Yazeed added.
“What if you get caught?” Desiderio asked.
And then Ling had spoken. “They’re right, Becs. It’s a pretty desperate plan, but it’s also all we’ve got.”
Becca had left the Darktide Shallows, and her friends, and had swum for days until she reached a goblin village. She’d found a mirror in the vacant home of a wealthy goblin family, and she’d swum through it into Vadus.
Rorrim Drol had spotted her there, but not before she’d gotten directions to a mirror in the Lagoon from one of his vitrina. She managed to escape Rorrim, and only moments ago, she’d swum out of that mirror and into a nearby mer dwelling. Luckily the mirror’s owner was not in the room at the time, and she was able to hurry out of an open window before she was discovered.
Becca had to get inside the palazzo. Rumors had been circulating that the Praedatori were finally regrouping. Some of them had been spotted in the Lagoon. There could only be one reason for that: their leader was back in Venice, and they were returning to his home—their old headquarters.
Marco had told Becca that he’d left his family’s palazzo because it was too dangerous for him to be there. She desperately hoped he’d come back. But even if he wasn’t there, maybe she could leave a message for him with one of the Praedatori, asking him to come to the Kargjord. The Black Fins had only the slimmest chance of rescuing Sera—and Marco was it.
Becca knocked once more now, but again no one answered.
She took a few strokes back from the door and eyed the upper levels of the palazzo. The windows had been boarded up. Everything—the carvings, the pediments, the fluted columns—was covered in silt. The whole place looked abandoned to anyone swimming by.
But Becca Quickfin wasn’t just anyone. She was bright and sharp-eyed, and almost immediately she saw that the lock under the door’s massive handle didn’t match the rest of the palazzo’s facade. Its keyhole wasn’t filled with silt. It wasn’t rusted or corroded. In fact, it looked new.
As Becca was pondering the lock, a movement to her left startled her. Her head snapped around. Her hand went for her dagger.
But there was nothing there. Nothing but the columns, the carvings, the impassive stone face.
Becca swam closer, peering at it. Was it her imagination, or had she seen its mouth twitch?
“You have to let me in. I need to see him,” she said.
The stone face said nothing.
“You moved. I saw you,” said Becca. Loudly. But the face maintained its silence.
“I need to speak with Marco!” she demanded. “Let. Me. In!”
And then everything happened at once.
A hand was clapped over Becca’s mouth. An arm snaked around her waist. She tried to scream but couldn’t. She heard the lock’s bolt turn, then the doors swung open. Her assailant shoved her inside with such force that she went tumbling through the water head over tail.
The door slammed behind her. The bolt shot into place.
Becca was alone in the dark.
“HELLO? IS THERE anyone here?” Becca called out, picking herself up off a cold stone floor.
She was inside the duca’s palazzo. The waters were so black, she could barely see her own hands in front of her. There was no light to use for an illuminata songspell, so she cast some waterfire instead. Her voice was shaky, and the spell produced only a tiny flame. It rose from the floor, revealing the high-ceilinged entry hall she now found herself in.
“Hello? Marco? Anybody?”
As the words left her lips, Becca felt vibrations in the murk. A split second later, something sliced through the water in front of her, silent and swift.
She glimpsed a black eye, a jagged row of teeth, a shimmer of gray.
It was a mako shark.
She whirled around and saw three more.
Becca knew that if the sharks wanted to attack, they would’ve done so by now. Instead, they seemed to be herding her. Bit by bit they nudged her down the long hallway and then upward, through a vertical passage. The water lightened as she rose, and a reflection of fire—airfire, the kind made by terragoggs—rippled on top of it.
She stopped, trying to see up through the water to what awaited her on the surface. As she did, she felt a tug on her left hand and gasped, afraid that it was one of the sharks. Looking down, she was surprised to find that a tiny orange octopus, no more than seven inches in diameter, had wrapped a short, stubby tentacle around her pinky finger. It had round eyes and tiny triangular fins on the top of its head that looked like ears.
“This way,
mermaid!” the little creature squeaked, pointing with another tentacle.
“But the sharks—” Becca started to say.
“Oh, they won’t touch us. They’re afraid of me,” the octopus said. She raised one of her tentacles and flexed it, like a bodybuilder showing off a bicep.
Though she was still scared, it was all Becca could do not to burst into laughter. She followed the absurd little octopus up through the water toward a cavernous room that contained both water and air.
As Becca broke the surface, she found that she was floating in a very large indoor pool. Three of the pool’s sides were sheer, tiled walls, but the fourth ended in a shallow ledge. Beyond it was a room for humans. Its floor was carpeted. Shelves full of books lined the walls. Flames crackled in a large fireplace.
Floating by the ledge, all in a row, were ten mermen. They all held spearguns, and every single one of them was trained on Becca.
“Who are you and why are you here?” one of them asked. “Answer the question.”
“Those are two questions, actually,” Becca pointed out, removing her hood. “I’m here because I need the duca’s help. My name is Rebecca Quickfin, and I—”
“Becca?” a voice called out, one that she had longed to hear ever since they’d parted.
“Marco?” she called back, uncertainly. “Where are—”
Before she could even finish her sentence, Becca saw a blur on the edge of the pool. She heard a splash. And then a human surfaced.
A human with warm brown eyes and a beautiful smile. His brown hair, sopping wet, lay plastered across his forehead. Drops of water rolled down his handsome face.
“Marco!”
And then his arms were around her, and his lips were on hers. And there was no possible or impossible, no calculations or formulas or theories. There was only her heart, and the huge, wonderful, terrible feeling that filled it. Love.
A few seconds later, though, she remembered that they were not alone, and she hastily broke the kiss, embarrassed.
The ten mermen had lowered their spearguns. Some were busily examining the triggers now, others were looking at the ceiling.
“Um, sorry,” Marco said sheepishly. “I got carried away. I can’t believe it’s you, Becca. I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I guess that explains the warm mako-shark welcome,” Becca said, arching an eyebrow.
“Sorry about that, too. We saw you on a hidden camera, but we couldn’t see your face under that hood. One of the Praedatori grabbed you and pushed you inside. We had to make sure you weren’t a death rider. No one knows we’re here and we want to keep it that way. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know. I hoped,” Becca admitted. “Big-time.”
“I see you met Opie,” Marco said, nodding at the orange octopus, who had now made a bracelet of herself on Becca’s wrist.
“I have,” Becca said, smiling. Opie smiled back.
“She’s a new breed. Opisthotheusis adorabilis. New to humans, at least. She was injured when we found her. A storm had pulled her away from her nest and really tossed her around. I brought her aboard our boat to treat her and tried to put her back when she was better, but she wouldn’t go. Would you, Opie?”
Opie shook her head.
“You’re going to have to go back home one day, though.”
Opie turned red. She shot a jet of water at his face.
“Hey!” Marco said sternly, wiping his eyes. “I thought we had a talk about manners!”
Opie turned blue. Ashamed, she scuttled up Becca’s arm to her shoulder, then buried her face in Becca’s neck.
Marco rolled his eyes. His suddenly dipped under the water, then surfaced again. “This stuff’s too heavy,” he said. “I can’t stay afloat.”
As he swam to the edge of the pool and boosted himself up, Becca realized he was wearing a shirt, tie, jacket, trousers, shoes, and socks.
“You dove into the pool in your clothes?” she asked.
Marco nodded. He glanced at his wrist and grimaced. “And a really nice watch,” he said. He took it off and laid it aside. “You must’ve come a long way. Are you hungry?”
Becca shook her head. “I don’t have time to eat. We’re in trouble, Marco. Serious trouble.”
Marco paused in the midst of removing one of his shoes. His eyes darkened. “What kind of trouble? What happened?”
“Sera was taken. By Vallerio, we think.”
Marco’s expression darkened as Becca told him exactly what had transpired. “We want to attack Cerulea and take her back. I came here to ask you to help us.”
“Anything, Becca,” he said. “What do you need?”
Becca took a deep breath. This was it. Her plan. It would live or die now, depending on Marco.
“I need a super trawler,” she said. “Actually, I need fifty. Can you get them for me?”
JUST FIVE DAYS TO GO, and I’m out, Mahdi thought.
It was less than a week, but it seemed like an eternity. Five days of enduring Lucia’s smile, her touch, her kisses. Of listening to the boring gossip and cruel jokes of her friends. Five days of dancing attendance on Portia. Of listening to Vallerio’s plans to raid more villages, enslave more citizens. Of hauling Black Fin sympathizers out of their hiding places while on patrol. Five days of enduring Traho’s suspicious glances. Of trying to keep up the pretense of being loyal to a pack of murderers.
He was with them now, some of the very mer he despised. He, Lucia, and their court were swimming through the palace gardens. Some courtiers were talking about the wedding, others about the party he was going to throw the night before. Lucia was bragging about wedding presents they’d received.
Hang on, he told himself. Smile and nod. You’ve done it for months; you can do it for a few more days.
His escape had been planned weeks ago. Currensea and clothing, as well as the location of his first safe house, had been hidden in a sunken yacht east of the city. When Mahdi got there, he would learn the location of the second one. He would move from one to the next until he’d made it all the way to the Straits of Gibraltar, where he’d rendezvous with Sera and the other Black Fins.
“…and my cousins sent the most incredible set of goblets you’ve ever seen! There are ten of them, pure silver and studded with amethysts. An aunt sent a solid gold lavalabra that’s nearly as tall as I am….”
Lucia droned on, bragging about the tribute she’d received, as her lackeys oohed and aahed. When she finished, she pulled Mahdi away from the rest of the court, until they were out of earshot. Then she turned to face him, biting her lower lip. Her eyes sparkled darkly.
“I have a gift for you, Mahdi,” she declared. “An early wedding present. I wanted to wait until after we were married to give it to you, but I just can’t! You’re going to love it!”
Mahdi set his thoughts aside and smoothly slipped back into the role of besotted husband-to-be. He’d recently doubled down on the compliments and public displays of affection.
Smiling, he took Lucia’s hands in his. “Sorry, Luce,” he said, kissing her, “but I already got the best present in the entire world…you.”
Catfish calls were heard from the male courtiers. Lucia flapped a hand at them and pulled Mahdi farther away. “Hold out your hand and close your eyes,” she commanded.
Mahdi did so, and Lucia placed a small object on his palm.
“Now open them!” she said.
The color drained from Mahdi’s face when he saw what he was holding. He could barely breathe. It was a delicate ring made of shell—the ring he’d carved for Serafina.
“Where did you get this?” he asked in a strangled voice.
“I took it off her hand. Right before I had her killed!” Lucia said happily. Her blue eyes were so dark now, they looked almost black.
“Lucia,” Mahdi whispered, “what have you done?”
She leaned in close to him. “I just told you, Mahdi. I killed Sera. She’s gone. And you’re free. You were under a terrible enchantme
nt, and you didn’t even know it. Serafina cast a songspell over you to make you think you were in love with her. To make you spy for her. But now I’ve broken the spell and saved you.”
“You…you murdered Sera?” Mahdi said. He felt as if she had just crushed his heart with her bare hands.
Lucia’s eyes narrowed. “You lied to me, Mahdi. And to my parents,” she said. “All this time, you’ve been helping the Black Fins. Feeding them information. Spying for them. I understand. Because I know what Sera did. But I’m not sure my father would…if he were ever to find out.”
Mahdi nodded woodenly. He understood the implied threat.
Lucia’s expression hardened. “You’re not upset, are you?”
Summoning all the strength he had left, Mahdi pulled himself together. He had to play along. Lucia was pure evil. If she’d known about Sera, what else did she know? That Yaz was alive? Neela, too? He didn’t care about his life anymore; it was over. But others might live or die depending on what he did next.
“Yes, I am upset, Luce. Upset that you’ve given me a better wedding present than I could ever give you!” he said, smiling.
Lucia, seeing that he’d been teasing her, swatted him.
Mahdi pulled her close. “Thank you,” he said. “I mean it, Lucia. You not only freed me, you did what your father and Traho and all the death riders together couldn’t: you eliminated a serious threat to our power. With Sera gone, no one can question your claim to the Miromaran throne, or your right to be my empress.” He kissed her lips. “Five whole days. How am I going to make it?”
Lucia’s lips curved up, and she melted into him. “I’m so happy that you’re happy, Mahdi. I was so worried that you had feelings for her. Before I realized that she’d enchanted you, I mean.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mahdi said tenderly, stroking her face. “You’re the only one I care about, Luce.”
“I care about you, too, Mahdi. So much,” Lucia said passionately. “Sera didn’t. She didn’t care if her enchantment got you killed.”
As she spoke, she pulled something out of her pocket. It was a chain made of dark metal, small but heavy. Before Mahdi even knew what she was doing, she’d looped it around his neck, slipped the hasp of a tiny padlock through both ends, and clicked it shut.