Ondalinian camouflage spells were known throughout the merworld to be the best. Children learned them while they were still in the cradle. When a merbaby was born, well-wishers didn’t say, Congratulations! Instead they said, Hide it!
Becca had asked Astrid to think about joining them, and Astrid was. She knew she’d soon have to stop thinking, though, and make a decision.
But there was another thing Astrid had to think about—her father. Eyvör, her mother, always told her to listen to her instincts. And right now, Astrid’s were telling her—loudly and clearly—that the things she’d learned during her journey to the Iele’s caves and back were connected to the bad things that had happened to her father. What she didn’t know was how.
Before she’d set off for the River Olt, someone had placed a sea burr under Kolfinn’s saddle, causing his hippokamp to rear and throw him into a wall. He’d broken several ribs. Then someone had slipped poison from a Medusa anemone into his food, making him very sick. He’d mostly recovered, but the poison had left him weak.
Both the burr and the anemone were found only in Miromaran waters. In the Iele’s caves, Sera had vehemently denied that her mother had had anything to do with the attempts on Kolfinn’s life. Astrid hadn’t believed her then, but she did now. Sera, she’d learned, was many things, but she wasn’t a liar. Yet someone had attempted to assassinate Kolfinn.
Was it Vallerio? Astrid wondered now. According to Sera, he’d ordered Isabella’s assassination and had decimated his city in order to place his daughter on Miromara’s throne. If he could murder his own sister in his quest for power, he’d have no qualms about poisoning a merman he barely knew.
But if Vallerio had made attempts on Kolfinn’s life, how had he done it? Security around her father was impenetrable. He was constantly surrounded by his guards. How could an assassin have slipped through them?
The answers to these questions eluded Astrid. She knew the best thing to do was to go to Kolfinn and tell him where she’d been and what she’d learned. He would know what to make of it all. Before she could tell him anything, though, she had to find him. He could be in the council chamber of the admiral’s palace, or in any number of ministry buildings. Her mother, however, was only ever in one place—the stables. A seasoned rider and celebrated hunter, Eyvör spent a good part of each day with her hippokamps. Astrid decided to go there first. Eyvör would know where Kolfinn was.
Astrid felt a deep relief at the thought of her father being well again and back in command. The waters were growing more dangerous, and the balance of power between the mer realms more unstable, with every passing minute. Ondalina needed a strong hand at her helm, now more than ever.
With a last glance at the sky and the snow, Astrid dove and headed for home.
Thank gods, she thought as she sped toward the Citadel, that Ondalina has Kolfinn.
THE CITADEL HAD been built thousands of years ago, using a method that was still followed today.
Carvers had selected an enormous iceberg, calculated the midpoint of its submerged section, then tunneled inside it. They’d hollowed out the ice around the center point, creating the huge public square where the admiral’s palace was located, and where he addressed his mer and paraded his troops.
The carvers then cut concentric rings in the berg, working outward from its center. Passageways were cut between the rings, allowing inhabitants to move freely throughout the berg. Dwellings were sculpted into the ice that remained—mansions and palaces that were as finely detailed as anything in the great gogg cities of Saint Petersburg, Prague, and Paris.
Though much of the Citadel was contained within the iceberg, farmhouses, stables, and the sprawling market quarter were located along the berg’s craggy bottom, allowing hunters to come and go with their hippokamps, farm animals to roam, and merchants to drive their carts into the market.
It was to the admiral’s stables that Astrid now swam. Since they’d been sculpted at the bottom of the iceberg, their roofs were attached to the berg and their lower floors, trimmed with decorative carving, hung down into the water.
Astrid swooped inside the main building. She passed hippokamp stalls, and then the tack room. The stables were illuminated by lava globes suspended from the ceiling. Lava could not be piped into an iceberg, so Ondalinians imported lava globes.
“Astrid Kolfinnsdottir? Is that you? Where have you been all this time?” a voice asked.
It belonged to Sanni, the head groom. She’d swum out of the tack room, still holding a silver bit she was polishing.
Astrid stopped and turned around. “Hi, Sanni. I’ve been hunting,” she fibbed. It was the excuse she’d come up with to explain her absence. “Where’s Eyvör?”
Ondalinian children called their parents by their first names. Ondalinians, no matter their age, shuddered at words like Mommy and Daddy and thought mer who used them were ridiculous.
“In the ring. With Prince Ludovico,” Sanni replied.
“Kolfinn’s not with them, is he?” Astrid asked.
Sanni stopped polishing. “Kolfinn?” she said. “Astrid, you…you don’t know?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Know what?”
“The admiral, he…he’s not here,” Sanni said, clearly uncomfortable.
“Any idea where he is?”
Sanni didn’t respond. She was polishing again, furiously.
“Sanni?” Astrid pressed, vexed by the groom’s silence. “Is something wrong?”
“Go see your mother,” Sanni said. She turned away then, but not before Astrid saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes. An Ondalinian never shed tears publicly.
Fear took root in Astrid. “What is it? What’s going on?” she asked.
Sanni shook her head and swam back into the tack room.
Astrid’s fear blossomed. She sped through the stables to the indoor ring, desperate to find out what had happened to her father. Eyvör was in the center of it, her hands on her hips, her brow furrowed. Tall, blond, and muscular, she was wearing a long walrus-skin coat and a necklace made from the claws of a polar bear that had been foolish enough to attack her. Near her, a groom was leading a hippokamp in a circle. Astrid recognized the animal: Blixt, Eyvör’s favorite mount.
Eyvör was talking with a distinctive-looking merman. His hair was black with a white streak in it; his eyes were blue. He was Principe Ludovico di Merrovingia, younger brother to Vallerio and the late Regina Isabella. Astrid knew him well.
Ondalina and Miromara had once battled each other in the War of Reykjanes Ridge. A condition of the peace treaty was the permutavi—which decreed that the ruling families must exchange a child when that child came of age. It was thought the realms were less likely to attack each other that way.
Ludovico had been exchanged with Sigurlin, Kolfinn’s sister, who lived on an estate in rural Miromara with her family. Astrid was supposed to have been exchanged with Sera’s brother, Desiderio, but Kolfinn had refused to send her. He knew her disability would become known were she to move to Miromara and he didn’t want that to happen.
Ludo, as he was known, was a breeder of hippokamps. He also trained the orcas used by Ondalina’s military. He and Eyvör were close friends.
Although right now, they were having a heated argument.
“Rylka’s the acting admiral. Talk to her, Ludo,” Eyvör said.
Astrid, who’d been about to swim closer, was so stunned she couldn’t move. Rylka was Kolfinn’s commodora, the second most powerful mer in Ondalina. Astrid couldn’t stand her, or her son Tauno. They both knew her secret and treated her dismissively because of it. Why had Rylka been made acting admiral? she wondered.
“I tried to talk to Rylka,” Ludo said angrily. “I can’t get in to see her. And even if I could, it wouldn’t do much good. This insanity is all her doing. Why is he in prison, Eyvör? Why can’t I see him?”
Astrid remembered Sanni’s refusal to say anything about Kolfinn. She put that together with Eyvör saying that Rylka had been made acting
admiral and jumped to a terrible conclusion.
“Eyvör, Ludo…what’s going on? Is Kolfinn in prison?” she blurted out.
Blixt startled at the sound of her voice.
Eyvör did, too. She turned around. “Astrid, you’re back. I’m glad,” she said evenly. “Was the hunting good?”
“Eyvör…who cares about the hunting?” Astrid asked, upset but trying not to show it. “Why is Rylka acting admiral? Why is Kolfinn in prison?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Kolfinn’s not in prison,” Eyvör said, rubbing her left temple. She turned to the groom. “Keep leading Blixt around,” she instructed.
Astrid exhaled, relieved, but something was still very wrong, she could feel it. Eyvör looked exhausted. Ludo looked like he was going to explode.
“Well, someone’s in prison,” she said. “I wish one of you would tell me who.”
“It’s my nephew, Desiderio,” Ludo said. “He’s been thrown into a dungeon cell and I’m not allowed to see him.”
“Desiderio?” Astrid echoed. “But I thought—”
…he was dead. That’s what Sera thinks, she was about to say. She said he was sent to defend Miromara’s western borders and never came back.
But she stopped herself. She’d told Eyvör she was going hunting. If Eyvör learned where she’d really gone, she’d demand an explanation, and Astrid didn’t want to give her one. Not until she’d learned more.
“I mean, what’s Desiderio doing all the way up here?”
“He’s been accused of masterminding a plot to assassinate Kolfinn,” Eyvör said.
Astrid couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She’d racked her brains trying to figure out who’d tried to kill her father. Now Eyvör was saying it was Desiderio?
“But he didn’t do it,” Ludo insisted. “I know him. And I know…knew…my sister. Neither of them would ever do such a thing.”
“Then why is he in prison?” Astrid asked.
“Because Rylka says he did do it,” Eyvör explained. “She and her soldiers found him one league south of the Citadel riding hard with a thousand troops at his back. She says he set up a hidden camp in Ondalina from which he sent assassins to the Citadel. On Isabella’s orders. When they failed to kill Kolfinn, he took the job upon himself.”
“And what does Desiderio say?” Ludo asked hotly. “Nothing! Because he’s not allowed to speak! And nobody’s allowed to speak to him!”
“Rylka says it’s for his own good, Ludo. She says that there have been death threats made against him and the only way she can guarantee his safety is by keeping him isolated,” said Eyvör. Astrid could see she was struggling to keep her emotion under control.
“I don’t care what Rylka says!” Ludo shouted. “The boy’s facing execution. He needs a lawyer. He has the right to defend himself!”
At that moment, Blixt stumbled. He lifted one of his hooves and curled it under. His long serpent’s tail thrashed to and fro.
Ludo swore. “Stop!” he yelled at the groom. “Keep him still.” He hurried over to inspect the hoof, then said, “It’s founder. Ice the foot immediately.”
“Tell Sanni to cut his sea straw, too,” Eyvör instructed, watching as the groom led Blixt away.
Astrid could hear worry in her mother’s voice, but she heard something else, too, something deeper. What was it? Founder was serious, but Eyvör had dealt with it before. Neither animal ailments nor arguments were normally enough to upset her.
As Astrid was puzzling over her mother’s odd behavior, Ludo spoke again.
“The boy’s my nephew, Eyvör. My flesh and blood.”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” Eyvör said, her voice cracking.
“Whatever you can? That’s not enough! Rylka’s going to execute him without a tribunal and you don’t even care!”
Eyvör whirled on him, her eyes blazing, her composure gone. “I do care, damn it!” she shouted. “But I happen to have other concerns at the moment! My husband is dying, Ludo!”
“What…” Astrid tried to speak but couldn’t. She squeezed her hands into fists and tried again. “Eyvör, what did you say?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Ludo looked from mother to daughter, an expression of disbelief on his face. “You haven’t told her? She doesn’t know?” he asked.
Eyvör looked at the floor.
“You Ondalinians. I’ll never understand you.” Ludo had learned the ways of his adopted realm, but in his heart he was still Miromaran and showed his emotion instead of hiding it. “I’ll leave you,” he said. “Astrid, I’m sorry.”
Astrid didn’t even hear him. Her eyes, wide with shock, were on her mother.
“Kolfinn is very sick, Astrid,” Eyvör said, when Ludo was gone.
“I-I don’t understand,” Astrid said, completely bewildered. “When I left, he was better.”
“It was a show of strength,” Eyvör explained. “He wanted everyone to think he was recovering. Especially his enemies. His doctors kept the truth a secret to buy some time.”
Astrid felt as if she was going to come apart. A maelstrom of emotion whirled inside her, its gyre widening. Grief overwhelmed her. Anger, too. This secret should not have been kept—not from her.
“How long does he have?” she asked.
“The poison has damaged his heart. It’s…” Eyvör’s face crumpled, but she regained control. “Not long.”
“I need to see him,” Astrid demanded. “Now.”
“That’s not a good idea. He’s in the hospital. He’s very weak.”
“He’s my father, Eyvör!” Astrid shouted. “Can I at least say hello?”
Eyvör shook her head sorrowfully. “Oh, Astrid,” she said, her voice finally breaking. “It’s not hello. It’s good-bye.”
“A COWRIE FOR YOUR THOUGHTS,” Sophia said.
Sera, who’d been staring up at the pale moon through Miromara’s blue waters, turned to her, a wistful smile on her face.
“I was thinking about a princess,” she said.
“A friend?”
Sera laughed. “Far from it. A shipwreck ghost. An infanta of Spain. Her name was Maria Theresa. She had Merrow’s talisman. She gave it to me. And almost killed me.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted to go home,” Sera said. “She’d haunted her sunken ship for four hundred years. You’d think she would have forgotten the place where she was born, but no.”
“She must’ve missed her palace and the life she’d had there,” Sophia said.
Sera shook her head. “It was the warm winds of her realm that she longed for. Jasmine. Oranges. The blue sky. I didn’t understand then, but I do now. I don’t miss the palace, either. Or my gowns and jewels. But I’ll miss the way the moon shines down on Miromara, the sight of bluefin tuna slicing through the water, and the scent of water apples on the current. So much.”
“You’ll be back, Sera. I know you will,” Sophia said, determination in her voice. “That’s what we’re fighting for. To put the rightful regina back on the throne. To take back our city, and our realm.”
Sera nodded, moved by her friend’s loyalty. “How are they doing?” she asked, nodding at a deserted farmhouse a few yards away.
“They’re packing up the last load. Yazeed started out with the first group of rays. Neela and Silvio are leading the second. I’m taking the third.”
“Any sign of death riders?”
“None.”
“Good,” Sera said, relieved.
Sera, Sophia, and the rest of the Black Fins were in Sargo’s Canyon. With the help of the same manta rays who’d carried the loot away from the palace, they were moving the treasure from its hiding place to the Black Fins’ new headquarters in the Kargjord.
It was a long trip. The rays would stop to rest along the way, but Sera knew it would still be hard going. She knew, too, that getting everyone out of Miromara to a safer place was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make saying good-bye to all the things she loved any easier.
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A whistle sounded in the darkness.
“That’s my signal,” said Sophia. “Gotta go.”
She and Sera embraced, and then Sera was alone. She’d told the others she would catch up. There was one last good-bye to say.
Will he come? she wondered.
The farm at Sargo’s Canyon had been abandoned decades ago. The branches of its untended water apple trees had become gnarled and entwined. They made excellent cover.
Sera swam under them now, to an overgrown stone pavilion in the center of the orchard, hoping against hope that he’d be there. A groom had helped them arrange a meeting by passing their conchs back and forth. They’d agreed that if anything seemed off, they would forsake the plan. Though Sera constantly longed to see him, his safety was her chief concern.
She sang a few notes of the mer Promising ceremony now. It was their agreed upon code. But she got no response.
Maybe he’s late, she thought, trying to keep her hopes up. Maybe it was impossible for him to get out of the palace.
She waited a few minutes, then sang again. Still no reply. Sera was crushed. It had been so long since she’d seen him, since she’d heard his voice and felt his touch. She hungered for time together, a few precious minutes. But it wasn’t to be. He wasn’t coming. She started back through the orchard.
And that’s when she heard it—a voice in the darkness, singing softly.
“Mahdi!” she cried, turning around.
She raced to the pavilion. Her breath caught. He was there, waiting for her. She gazed at the face she loved so much. It looked older to her. Weary and careworn. But his beautiful dark eyes shone with love.
“Sera? Is that you?” he asked, his handsome face breaking into a smile.
Sera nodded tearfully, then threw herself into his arms. The two of them embraced, whirling around and around in circles.
“Let me look at you,” Mahdi said as they stopped. “You’re so beautiful, Sera. Gods, how I’ve missed you.”