Ling’s heart had filled with bitter defeat. Orfeo had two talismans—Merrow’s and his own. How would she and the other mermaids ever get them away from him?
Orfeo had sat down on the gunwale and looked out over the water. “A few centuries ago, I almost got the blue diamond myself. I was so close, but then the Infanta and her damned hawk…” He’d waved the memory away. “Ah, well. One must be patient. Neela’s found her talisman. Ava and Becca will find theirs, I’m sure. Astrid refuses to even look, but then again”—he’d tapped the black pearl—“she doesn’t need to.”
He had shifted his soulless gaze back to Ling. “And you,” he’d said. “I very much hoped you’d found your talisman, but not to worry. I will. Because there’s a pattern, Ling. I can see it now. Merrow disposed of her talisman on the shores of her own realm. And she put it in a very dangerous place—the hands of a human. She put Navi’s moonstone in her home waters, in the claws of a dragon queen.”
Ling hadn’t wanted to take part in this conversation, but she’d been so upset to learn that Orfeo had two talismans and knew about Neela’s, she hadn’t been able to stop herself.
“How do you know Neela has the moonstone?” she’d blurted.
“Because Hagarla, the dragon queen, is unhappy that her prized possession was stolen. She wants it back and is offering a fortune to the one who brings it to her. A death rider heard of her offer and told Traho. He reported it to me.”
Orfeo had paused to untie the ropes securing Ling to her chair, then he’d continued. “Merrow was such a fool. Always led by her heart,” he’d said. “It makes sense that she would’ve returned our talismans to the waters nearest our original homes. And that means”—he’d leaned on the chair’s arms, bent down, and looked Ling in the eye—“that Sycorax’s talisman, an ancient puzzle ball, is in Qin. And what’s the most hazardous place in Qin?” He’d straightened and clapped his hands. “The Abyss, of course!”
“The Abyss is endless. You’ll never find such a tiny object in such a large area,” Ling had said. She’d seen puzzle balls. They were small, cunningly carved, and contained spheres within spheres. Each sphere had a hole in it. The puzzle was solved when the holes were lined up, allowing one to see the center of the ball and the surprise it contained.
Orfeo had smiled. “You’re right. I, myself, will not find the puzzle ball, but you might. You’ll certainly have every opportunity, where you’re going.”
Was that where the Bedrieër was headed? Ling had wondered. To the Abyss? Why? What could a trawler do there? Submarines couldn’t plumb those depths. They were too much even for the mer. Ling’s own father, an archaeologist, had died in the Abyss. He’d gone exploring and had never returned. Her family assumed he’d succumbed to depth sickness.
“I’ll take all the talismans, Ling,” Orfeo had continued, his smile hardening. “And Vallerio will take the mer realms. He’ll unite them into one army. He’ll help me free Abbadon, and together we’ll march on the underworld. The gods themselves will fight me, but I’ll win. I’ll take Alma back if I have to destroy the entire world to do it.”
Then he had motioned to two thugs standing nearby. They’d hoisted Ling out of the chair, hauled her off, and thrown her into the hold. Ever since, she’d spent her every waking minute looking for a way to escape.
A thunderous noise ripped her out of her thoughts now. The Bedrieër was dropping anchor. All around her, prisoners clutched each other, wild with fear.
“What’s happening? Where are we? What are they going to do with us?” panicked voices called out.
The death riders didn’t make them wait long for the answers.
BECCA QUICKFIN looked longingly at the basket of marsh melons on the farmer’s stall. Her mouth watered as she thought of cutting one open and scooping out its gooey black flesh.
The melons were expensive, though, and Becca had little currensea left—only a handful of copper cowries and silver drupes. Those coins had to last her; she was still a long way from home and it was hard to swim on an empty stomach. She knew that all too well.
“Four water apples, please,” she said with a sigh, pushing her glasses up on her nose. The frames were made of polished razor-clam shells, the lenses of rock crystal. They were heavy and often slipped down.
The farmer picked out some plump blue apples and tumbled them into Becca’s bag. She paid him, then swam off to see if she could find some squid eggs to go with them.
The market was set up in a public hall in the center of a sizeable village, and Becca felt lucky to have happened across it. She’d eaten her last handful of reef olives this morning. It was lunchtime now and her stomach was twisting with hunger.
As she moved through the market, she saw and heard some troubling things. DEATH RIDERS OUT! was scrawled on one wall of the hall, and several of the stalls were empty.
“Where’s Pete today?” one farmer shouted to another, as Becca passed by.
“Nothin’ to sell! Soldiers came and took his crop!”
Dread, as cold as pack ice, gripped Becca. Traho’s reach, it seemed, now extended well into Atlantica. She pushed a strand of auburn hair behind one ear and swam on. She had a plan: ten minutes to shop for food—no more, then a quick swim out of the village to the open water. She felt safer on the back currents. Death riders had tried to capture her and the others back in the Iele’s caves. She doubted they’d given up the hunt.
A few minutes later, Becca spotted a pile of squid eggs. “How much?” she asked the farmer.
“Five drupes per pound. These are first-rate,” he said, proudly hoisting a moplike clump. The egg sacs reminded Becca of fat, fleshy fingers. She loved the way they burst in her mouth when she bit into them. They were more than she could afford, just like the melons, but maybe if she looked hard, she could find a small clump.
“I’ll take two bunches,” a brusque voice said from the far end of the stall. “Wrap them to go.”
Becca recognized that voice. She craned her neck, trying to see past the other shoppers. A mermaid with braided blond hair and the black and white markings of an orca was drumming her fingers on the stall.
Ugh, Becca thought. It’s Astrid.
Becca didn’t want to deal with her. Though Astrid was from the icy waters of the Arctic, she was a hothead—quick-tempered and rude. Selfish, too, judging by her hasty exit from the Iele’s caves. She’d swum out on everyone, leaving them to confront the tough task ahead without her. If Abbadon were freed, it could destroy all the waters of the world. Astrid had a responsibility to help defeat the monster, as they all did. How could she just turn her back on it?
Becca decided to forget about the squid eggs and sneak away before Astrid saw her, but she faced a problem: there was only one way in and out of the market hall and she’d have to swim right by Astrid to get to it.
Maybe if I head in the opposite direction, I can thread my way back to the doorway without her seeing me, she thought.
At that very second, Astrid turned her head, forcing Becca to duck down. When Becca dared, she glanced in Astrid’s direction and was horrified to see that the obnoxious merl was swimming right toward her!
Becca squeezed under the stall’s table, apologizing to the surprised farmer. When she was certain Astrid had passed by, she crawled out, then headed up the aisle Astrid had just swum down.
Becca kept her eyes on the tall doorway, using it to navigate her way through the maze-like market. She had nearly reached it, and was just congratulating herself for having avoided Astrid, when a merman blocked her way. “Farm-fresh crab eggs! Just harvested!” he bellowed, thrusting a clamshell heaped high with tiny orange spheres at her.
“No, thank you,” Becca said.
She darted to the right, but the merman darted with her. She zipped to the left, but he intercepted her again.
“Come on, Red, buy some eggs. They’re on special! Two drupes a pound!”
Becca realized she wasn’t getting past him without purchasing some of his wares. “H
alf a pound, then,” she said, exasperatedly. “Can you wrap them really fast?”
“Right away!” the merman said. He swam behind his stall and weighed out a half pound of eggs, carefully tapping them out of their container onto his scale, making sure to get the amount just right.
“Here’s your money,” Becca said impatiently, handing him some coins.
“Crab eggs are delicious tossed with keel worms. But if you cook ’em, use low heat and don’t—”
Becca cut him off. “Great. Thanks. Gotta go,” she said, reaching for her package. She opened her traveling case and stuffed it inside.
“Becca? Is that you?”
Oh, silt, Becca thought. She turned around. “Astrid. Hey,” she said, forcing a smile.
Astrid blinked, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with”—she glanced around warily—“with the others.”
Becca was relieved that Astrid hadn’t said more.
“I was,” she replied. “But we had some, um, unexpected guests. I’m on my way home now.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. “What happened?” she asked quietly.
Becca arched an eyebrow. “Suddenly you care?”
“Yeah, Becca, I do. A lot.”
“Funny way of showing it,” Becca said, anger flaring inside her.
“The others…are they—” Astrid started to ask.
But Becca didn’t let her finish. “Dead? Alive? I have no idea. We were attacked. I don’t even know if they made it out of the caves.”
Astrid winced at her sharp tone. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“You’re sorry?” Becca echoed, incredulous. “You know something, Astrid? You don’t get to be sorry, and you don’t get to care. Not after you abandoned us.”
Astrid, who’d been looking at the seafloor, met Becca’s gaze. “But I am sorry, and I do care,” she said.
Becca was surprised to see a deep sadness in Astrid’s eyes. She wondered at it, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. “Look, I can’t hang. I only came here to get some food,” she said. “Got homicidal maniacs on my tail, you know?”
“There’s a rocky valley east of here. It’s on the way. My way, at least. Maybe yours, too. We could find an overhang there and eat lunch together,” Astrid ventured. “You could tell me what happened.”
Becca didn’t relish the idea of spending any more time with this merl. She had a plan and she meant to stick to it. “Sorry. I’ve got to make wake.”
“Becca…”
“Look, Astrid, I can’t. Okay? I really have to—”
“Becca, be quiet.”
“What? Why should I?” Becca asked indignantly. “I’m not the one—”
“Becca, please!” Astrid hissed. She wasn’t looking at Becca anymore. She was looking past her, through the doorway toward the village square.
Becca turned, following Astrid’s gaze, and gasped.
Twenty soldiers dressed in black uniforms were heading for the market.
BEFORE BECCA EVEN knew what was happening, Astrid had grabbed her hand and pulled her under an empty table.
“Death riders. They found out you were here,” Astrid said, her voice low.
“How?” Becca asked, panicking.
“Someone must’ve seen you and told them. You don’t exactly blend with that red hair.”
“Me? What about you with the black-and-white tail?”
“Do you want to argue? Or do you want to get out of here?” Astrid asked.
A table went over. The loud crash made both mermaids flinch.
“They’re already inside the market hall,” she added grimly. “Escaping just got a whole lot trickier.”
And then Becca remembered something. “I have transparensea pebbles!” she whispered. “Vrăja gave them to me. We can cast them and escape!”
Becca held one out, but Astrid shook her head. “It won’t work on me,” she said.
“Of course it will. They work on everyone!” Becca insisted.
“Not me. Cast one and go, Becca. Hurry!” Astrid urged.
“No. I’m not leaving you.”
Astrid, who was peering out from under the table now, turned back to Becca. Again Becca saw a terrible sadness in her eyes.
“You should leave me,” Astrid said.
“Why, because you left us? Just because you’re a lumpsucker doesn’t mean I have to be one!” Becca whispered angrily.
“No! Because I can’t help you! Not in the Iele’s caves. Not here. All I can do is get you killed!” Astrid whispered back.
“What are you talking about? What do you—”
But Becca’s questions were cut off by more crashes as crates were upended and baskets dumped out. A farmer protested and was beaten. Becca started to shake. The death riders were swimming through the market, getting closer with every stroke.
“What else have you got in that bag? Anything?” Astrid asked.
Becca could hear fear in her voice now. She rooted through her bag again.
“I have a vial of Moses potion…” she said.
“I have no idea what that is,” said Astrid.
“Neither do I. That’s it…no, wait! There’s this…” She pulled out a large sea urchin shell. It was packed with squid ink and sealed with kelp paste. Vrăja had given it to her along with the transparensea pebbles and the Moses potion.
Astrid’s eyes lit up. “An ink bomb! Perfect!” she whispered as she took it from Becca. She peered out from under the table again. “I’m going to draw the death riders away from the door. Stay here until the bomb goes off, no matter what you hear me say. Then cast the pearl and swim for the door. Ready?”
Becca wasn’t, but she nodded anyway.
Astrid took a deep breath. She swam out of her hiding place and along the floor. When she reached the back of the hall, she rose over the stalls.
“Hey! I surrender, okay?” she shouted. “Leave these mer alone!” Her hands were raised, but she’d tucked them behind her head to hide the ink bomb.
Becca watched from under the table, her heart in her throat, as the death riders advanced on Astrid.
“Where’s the other one?” their sergeant shouted.
“What other one?” Astrid asked, affecting a confused look.
“The other mermaid! We know she’s here!”
Astrid shifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Hurry, Becca! Swim!” she shouted.
Understanding dawned across the sergeant’s face. “She cast a transparensea pearl!” he shouted. “She’s up by the ceiling and heading for the door! Don’t let her out!”
Becca stayed put, remembering Astrid’s instructions not to move until the bomb went off. The death riders hovering in the doorway swam toward the ceiling, spearguns drawn.
That’s when Astrid struck. She hurled the ink bomb to the floor with all her might. It exploded with a deafening bang, spreading a thick, choking cloud of squid ink through the hall.
Astrid dove to the floor and raced to the exit, streaking past Becca. Becca was on her tail instantly, following her as she zipped past stalls, crates, and frightened merfolk.
It was as dark as night inside the hall now, but the ink cloud hadn’t drifted all the way down to the ground yet. Becca could just make out where she was going. Astrid veered left, then right, and then the doorway came into view. She put on a burst of speed and streaked through it. Becca was right behind her. She was almost out when a pair of rough hands grabbed her. She and the death rider tumbled out of the doorway together. In her frightened state, she’d fogotten to cast the transparensea pebble.
“Where are you going? No one leaves!” he barked at her. His eyes roved over her face; they took in her red hair. “It’s you!” he said.
“Let me go!” Becca said, struggling to break free.
But the death rider only tightened his grip. He opened his mouth to shout for help…and never saw the punch coming.
Astrid slugged him so hard he was out before he even hit the ground.
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Becca, wide-eyed, looked from the unconscious merman to Astrid, but she was already swimming back to the market hall’s doors.
“Give me a hand!” she shouted, swinging one closed.
Becca grabbed the other door and slammed it shut.
Each door had a curved iron handle on it. Astrid unbuckled the sharkskin belt she was wearing, looped it through the handles, and knotted it tightly. A split second later, both mermaids heard thumps and yells as the death riders tried to pound their way out.
“That belt won’t hold forever,” Astrid said, backing away. “Come on, Becca, let’s go.”
Becca hesitated. This wasn’t part of her plan. Only moments ago, she’d been so angry at Astrid, she’d refused to even swim out of the village with her.
I don’t trust her, Becca said to herself. I don’t even like her. She’s difficult and rude…
…and brave, a voice inside her countered—a voice that always pointed out things that Becca wished it wouldn’t. She just saved you from being captured.
“Look, Becca, stay here if you want, but I’m going,” Astrid said, eyeing the doors. The pounding on the other side of them was getting louder. Villagers were starting to gather.
“What happened?” one of them asked. “What’s going on?”
Becca gave Astrid a nod. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
The two mermaids took off, streaking down the main current and into the open water, leaving the death riders behind them.
A LEAGUE OUT OF THE VILLAGE, the flat seafloor gave way to the foothills of the Bermuda Rise, a collection of seamounts. Becca and Astrid found a rocky overhang and swooped down to investigate it. Underneath was a spacious sea cave. Once inside, they’d be invisible to anyone swimming above.
“Wait here,” Astrid instructed Becca. She swam in first, her sword out. “All clear!” she called out after a minute.
Becca joined her and cast an illuminata spell to light the dark cave. Then she put her traveling case down, opened it, and dug inside for the sea flax blanket she’d brought with her. It would make a good tablecloth. She snapped the blanket open and was just about to spread it out when she noticed that the cave’s floor was covered with silt.