“Bet that’s her toothy little piranha,” she said excitedly. As she focused in on the flash, she saw that it was indeed Baby. A ray of sunshine had pierced the swamp’s leafy canopy and was bouncing off his scales. He was swimming around Ava, teeth bared to anything that moved.
Manon heaved a sigh of relief, then started to chant, her voice urgent and low. She called on the gris-gris she’d made for Ava to work its magic, to safeguard her.
Gris-gris spirits, hear my call.
One has come who casts a pall.
He seeks to harm a river’s daughter.
Go, follow her through our black water.
I call upon my magic charm
To keep the mermaid safe from harm.
I bound it hard, I bound it tight
With gifts from creatures of the night.
A talon black, from Brother Owl,
The sound of the coyote’s call,
A rare white gator’s spiky tooth,
A viper’s tongue, of lies and truth.
Give her the silence of midnight’s bird,
Who’s seldom seen and never heard
By prey until it’s far too late,
And sharp black talons seal their fate.
Like Brother Trickster, make her sly.
Show her which way dangers lie.
Like Brother Gator, help her hide.
Let cloaking stillness be her guide.
And most of all, from Brother Snake,
The gift of split speech she must take.
Tell lies to monsters, truth to the just,
And in her own self, place her trust.
Go now, spirits, heed my plea.
Carry this magic to her from me.
Don’t let evil take its toll,
Protect this mermaid, body and soul.
As she finished her chant, Manon sat back. She told herself that the gris-gris would be enough, that it would keep the mermaid safe.
“I made that charm strong,” she whispered. “There isn’t a mer alive who can make one stronger.”
She nearly had herself convinced when it suddenly appeared, slithering out from a tangle of cypress roots, just a few yards ahead of Ava.
Manon’s eyes widened. Her hands clutched the arms of her throne. And then the swamp queen, who had seen many a dark thing in her day, screamed.
THE HEADACHE was so bad tonight, Sera thought it would split her skull in two.
They were getting worse, but she couldn’t let the others know. They would tell her to rest or make her see a doctor, and she couldn’t spare the time. There was too much to do. She had to keep going. She couldn’t let the resistance down.
She was on her way to headquarters to meet with her inner circle. They gathered there every night to talk over the day’s problems.
“Pull yourself together,” she whispered as she entered the cave, then greeted the others. Neela, Ling, and Becca were seated at the far end of the table. Desiderio and Yazeed were at the near end, bent over the map spread across it. As she glanced at it, pain sliced through her brain like a ship’s keel through water. She couldn’t keep from wincing.
Neela noticed. “Sera? What’s wrong?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
Sera forced a smile. “Nothing. Just a cramp in my tail.”
“Hey, Sera,” Des said, motioning her over, “take a look at the map. We need to talk about where to hit first. We can’t put it off any longer.”
The last thing Sera wanted to talk about was that map, and the cowrie shells covering it. They were the reason for her headaches, the reason she hadn’t slept for days.
“I…uh, I want to go over some other things first, Des,” she said, trying to ignore the throbbing in her head. “Ling, are you getting any closer to finding the spy? Please tell me yes.”
“I wish I could,” Ling said regretfully. “I’ve had lots of Black Fins take turns at trying to solve the puzzle. The entire camp’s talking about the spy now, and the Arrow of Judgment. My plan will work, I’m sure of it. I just need more time.”
Sera nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “What about Sophia and Totschläger? Anyone see any sign of them yet?”
It had been two days since Sophia, Totschläger, and twenty other Black Fins had left to rendezvous with the Näkki.
“No news,” Yazeed said, “but that’s not a reason to panic. Not yet. They’re not due back until tomorrow morning.”
“What about Ava and Astrid?” asked Sera. “Has anyone been able to convoca them?”
“I tried several times today, but I couldn’t get through,” Ling replied. “The rocks here contain so much iron, they’re messing with my songspells. I’ll stay on it, though.”
“It’s been days since we’ve heard from either of them,” Sera fretted.
“Ava and Astrid are tough,” Becca reassured her. “And smart. They’ll make it.”
Sera laughed mirthlessly. “So, besides Ava being lost in a swamp full of homicidal maniacs, and Astrid swimming off to meet the king of homicidal maniacs, what other insurmountable problems are we facing tonight?”
“Soldiers,” Desiderio said. “Or lack thereof.” He’d been working with Meerteufel commanders on drilling the goblin troops. “The goblins are doing well on maneuvers,” he said, “but we still don’t have enough of them.”
“How do we augment their numbers?” Sera asked, struggling to keep the strain out of her voice. She was so exhausted, she felt dizzy. And the ache in her head was getting worse. She massaged her left temple, hoping the others didn’t notice.
“Refugees,” Neela replied. “All they talk about, from the minute they arrive, is how badly they want to go back to Cerulea and take on Vallerio.”
Word was spreading of the Black Fins’ stronghold in the north, and mer were flocking to the Kargjord. Nearly two hundred had arrived today alone. Neela was in charge of seeing that they were all sheltered and fed. She’d put them in barracks under the protective thicket of Devil’s Tail thorns that floated above the center of the camp. She’d had to move some soldiers outside the thicket and into tents to make room for all the newcomers.
“The refugees may not be enough. We may have to go back to Guldemar to ask for more troops,” Desiderio countered.
Sera grimaced at the idea. She’d dealt with the difficult Meerteufel chieftain once, and it had been quite an ordeal. Returning to his court at Scaghaufen did not appeal to her.
“We need more weapons, too,” Des added. “Even after the deal you made with the Näkki, we still don’t have enough. Not to equip all the newcomers. We’re low on ammo as well.”
“We could solve the ammo problem so easily if we could just find a lava seam,” Yazeed said, frustrated. “There are two shipwrecks four leagues east of here. The hull from one alone, melted down, would give us thousands of arrows and spearheads.”
“The goblins are awesome metalworkers. They could set up a forge in no time,” added Desiderio.
“Becca, any luck on the lava front?” asked Sera.
“No,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I’ve got teams of goblins looking day and night, but so far we’ve found nothing.”
“How are the building projects coming?”
Becca unrolled one of the large parchments lying on the table in front of her. On it she’d charted the status of the new barracks, infirmary, and school. She took Sera and the others through it in detail. Half an hour later, she finished.
“Becca, you have a tremendous amount going on. Can you assign some of the work to others?” Sera asked, her eyes on the chart.
Becca shook her head. “I can handle it, Sera.”
“But, Becca—”
“Seriously. I’ve got it,” she insisted, an edge to her voice.
Sera looked up at her, struck by her tone. As she did, she noticed that there were dark circles under Becca’s eyes, and that her cheeks looked hollow.
Something’s wrong. Something more than a heavy workload, Sera thought, alarmed for her friend. She knew s
he should take Becca aside and try to find out what was going on with her, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even think straight any longer. She had to get out of here.
“Are we done?” Des asked. “Because we’ve got to talk about Vallerio’s troops, the Southern Sea, and—”
“Des, I can’t. Not now. I—” she started to say.
“Sera, you have to,” Des said, cutting her off. “We need to make a decision.”
No, Sera thought frantically.
“Des is right, Sera,” Yazeed said. “About needing to prep, that is. Not about where to attack.”
Des snorted. He shot Yazeed a look, then cleared piles of parchments off the table and placed them on the floor so that Sera had a better view of the map. As soon as her gaze fell upon it, another bolt of pain shot through her skull.
“We have two enemies to battle: Vallerio and Abbadon,” Des said, “and we can’t take them both on at once. We all know that. What we need to decide—”
Yaz cut him off. “Dude, come on! There is no decision. It’s so clear: we need to attack Abbadon first!”
Becca’s eyes cut to him. So did Neela’s. Both mermaids seemed surprised by his rudeness. They looked at Sera, waiting for her to say something. But Sera didn’t because she’d barely heard him, or her brother. Her eyes were glued to the map. They swept over the cowries that represented her uncle’s troops and the turitella shells that stood for her own. The shells reminded her of chess pieces—kings, queens, knights, pawns. They seemed to taunt her, to tell her that she was a queen, the rightful regina of Miromara, but Vallerio was the one who ruled the board.
Neela’s eyes remained on Sera, beseeching her to take charge. When she didn’t, Neela spoke instead. “Hey, Yaz?” she said. “We’re all tired and stressed, but that’s no reason to disrespect each other.”
“I know, I know,” Yaz said, holding his hands up. “It’s just that Des and I have been arguing about this for days. We’re both frayed. Especially me. Sorry, Des. You’re up.”
Des nodded. “As I was saying, Vallerio is our biggest threat. He’s the clear and present danger. His death riders are now attacking our troops every time they go into open waters. It’s only a matter of time until they hit our camp, and then—”
“But Abbadon—” Yazeed began.
“Is buried under a polar ice cap!” Des said, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted again.
“Um, bro?” Yaz said. “Don’t know if you’ve heard, but the ice is melting. And the monster man’s waking up. And when he’s stretched and yawned and got his monster butt out of bed, he’s going to make Vallerio look about as scary as a guppy.”
Des lost it. “Open your eyes, Yaz!” he shouted, pointing to the cowries. “Look at Vallerio’s troops—they’re everywhere! We’ll never make it to the Southern Sea. We won’t make out of the Atlantic!”
“We will! We can go around them!” Yazeed shouted back.
Desiderio threw his hands up. “Care to tell us how?”
“We’ll figure it out! That’s what commanders do. We have to take Abbadon out first. If Orfeo unleashes him, there won’t be any Vallerio. There won’t be any Cerulea, or Miromara, or you and me. You know that. You hate your uncle so much, it’s blinding you to the fact: Abbadon is the bigger threat!”
The two mermen were in each other’s faces now. Their loud voices were ringing in Sera’s ears. She knew she should say something, but she still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the shells.
These shells are lives. So many lives, she thought.
Finally, Ling put her fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing whistle. Des and Yazeed both winced. They stopped shouting and looked at her.
“Sorry to burst your eardrums, boys,” she said, “but we need to remember that we’re all on the same side here. Maybe we should take a break.”
“We can’t take a break,” Desiderio said. “There’s no time. My uncle’s growing bolder. His ambushes are getting closer.”
“I hear you, Des,” Ling said, “but maybe Sera should weigh in on this. Sera, what do you think? Sera? Sera.”
Sera lifted her head. “What do I think?” she echoed. “I think that my uncle doesn’t care how many he kills. That’s his strength. I do care. And that’s my weakness.”
“Sera, listen—” Desiderio started to say.
“No, Des, you listen. You and Yaz…you want me to give the orders to go to war, but I can’t,” she said, her voice ragged. “War takes lives—not only the lives of soldiers, but the lives of innocent civilians who get caught in the crosshairs. If I love my subjects, how can I give a command that will turn children into orphans? Rob parents of sons and daughters? How? Can somebody tell me?”
Sera waited, but no one answered her.
“I thought I’d learned how to lead, but I haven’t,” she said. “Because I can’t do this. I can’t.”
Desiderio swam to his sister. He put a gentle arm around her. “Shh, Sera. You’re worn-out, that’s all. Go get some sleep. Things will look different in the morning. You’ll see.”
Sera nodded, feeling despondent. She got up to leave, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep.
I’ll head toward the barracks to make them happy, she thought, then veer off and swim through the camp. Maybe a breath of fresh water will help.
Des and Neela swam with her to the cave’s mouth. As she left, they remained where they were, watching her, uneasy expressions on their faces.
The acoustics around the headquarters were strange. Hollows in the rock caught sound; jutting boulders bounced it this way and that. Sera could hear her best friend and her brother talking about her as she swam away.
“She’ll be fine,” Desiderio insisted. “She just needs some rest. She’ll make a decision in the morning.”
“No, she won’t,” Neela said. “Her heart won’t allow her to. She can’t be the reason innocent people die.”
Desiderio didn’t respond right away. Then in a heavy voice so low that Sera almost didn’t hear him, he said, “She doesn’t have a choice, Neela. She needs to find a way. If she doesn’t, we all die.”
THINGS WILL LOOK different in the morning.
Desiderio’s words echoed in Sera’s aching head.
“Will they?” she asked herself.
They’d changed, all of them—Neela, Ling, Becca, Astrid, Ava. They’d grown. And she had, too; she knew that. She’d conquered many painful challenges since her mother had been assassinated, but this one—leading her fighters into war—seemed like it would conquer her.
She was failing now. Failing her duties, her people, and herself, and the knowledge of it plunged Sera into despair. She felt so lost, so wretched, that she just swam forward, paying no attention to where she was going. Past caves, boulders, and clumps of seaweed. Past the north gate.
Almost an hour after she’d left headquarters, the blood-chilling howls of a pack of dogfish startled Sera out of her desperate thoughts. She looked around and saw that she was on the far eastern edge of her camp, beyond the protective cover of Devil’s Tail, in a desolate patch of scrubweed and rock.
The currents keened mournfully through the rocks; the waters were a good deal colder out here than they were back at headquarters. Shivering, Sera pulled her collar up around her neck, ready to turn back for the warm heart of her camp. But before she could, she heard the sound of voices. They were coming from the other side of a large boulder that was encrusted with tube worms.
The speakers had heard her, too. “Who’s there?” one shouted tersely.
Sera tried to back away quietly.
“This is Ensign Adamo of the Black Fin resistance! Show yourself! Now! Or I’m coming around that boulder arrows flying.”
Sera panicked. She couldn’t let herself be seen in this state. She was supposed to be an inspiration to her fighters, not a cause for concern.
“I said, show yourself!”
Frantic, Sera cast a quick illusio spell, hoping to turn her copper-colored hair black and her green ey
es blue. Thanks to the iron-rich boulder, though, she ended up with black eyes and blue hair.
“I’m not asking again!” the voice threatened.
Then Sera heard a crossbow being cocked. She swam around the boulder, hands raised. “It’s okay. I’m a Black Fin,” she said.
A merman, gray-haired, with a craggy, bearded face, had his crossbow trained on her. ADAMO was embroidered on his uniform. Two others—a younger merman, and a female goblin—also had their weapons raised.
“If you’re one of us, why are you sneaking around the outskirts of camp?” Ensign Adamo demanded, eyeing her uniform.
“I wasn’t sneaking. I—I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a swim.”
“Where you from?”
“Cerulea.”
“Swashbuckler, huh?” Adamo said, taking in her bright blue hair. “What’s your name, merl?”
“Sera,” she replied without thinking. Then she hurriedly added a surname. “LaReine.”
“That doesn’t sound like a Cerulean name to me,” Adamo said, his eyes narrowing.
“My mother’s side is from the city,” Sera quickly lied. “My father’s family comes from westerly waters. Off the shores of France.”
“I guess that accounts for it,” said Adamo, lowering his weapons. His companions lowered theirs, too. “You’re welcome to sit with us and warm up,” he added, nodding at the waterfire. “We finished our watch. Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go foraging.”
“Thank you,” said Sera.
Adamo told Sera that his first name was Salvatore. The younger merman introduced himself as Enzo Lenzi and the goblin simply as Snøfte. They made room for her around the waterfire. As she sat down, Enzo picked up a knife and a small block of wood. Little pieces of wood littered the seafloor around him. Sera realized he’d been carving before she barged in upon them. As she looked at what he’d been making—a little figure of a seal—her heart clenched.