Ling knew that there was another hatch in the chamber. She was certain that the death riders would open it, and then the cage would plummet through the water…but why? Where were the prisoners going?
She also knew that the death riders would have to detach the chain that tethered her to the hold’s wall if they wanted to put her in that cage. When they did, she might be able to break away.
If she could slip out of the water lock into the death riders’ quarters, or the hold’s kitchens—someplace, anyplace, where she could hide until the rest of the prisoners were gone—she might be able to steal to the water lock and let herself out.
Ling knew her plan was a total long shot. A thousand things could go wrong and probably would, but she had to try.
As she waited and watched, more cages were filled with prisoners and dropped through the water lock. Most of the death riders were grouped around the cage’s door, where they were encountering resistance. If she could somehow skirt the door, maybe she could swim off without being noticed.
The guards were moving through the prisoners quickly. In only a few minutes, they would be unchaining her. Her heart thumped in her chest as she watched the frightened mermaid near her, the one with two children, being herded toward the water lock.
Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, she told herself. Weakness is for guppies.
“You, there! Hands on your head!” a death rider shouted at her.
Ling did as she was told. The death rider opened the padlock on her collar, pulled the chain free of its hasp, then locked the padlock.
“Move!” he yelled, shoving her.
Ling needed time. She swam slowly, her head lowered. Her hair was hanging over her face, but behind it, her eyes moved rapidly, noting the position of every death rider.
But the death riders were watching her, too. If she didn’t find a way to distract them, her plan would never work.
Then she spotted the merman—the one who’d yelled at the frightened mermaid earlier. She swam up behind him, placed her hand in the middle of his back, and shoved him. It was an awful thing to do, but she had no choice.
The merman lost his balance and fell against the prisoner ahead of him. Scared and angry, they both lost their tempers. Harsh words were traded, then punches. Two other mermen, caught by the flailing fists and thrashing tails, joined the fight. Instantly, every death rider in both the containment area and the water lock converged on them. A fight could quickly turn into a riot, and they knew it.
Ling didn’t waste a second. She ducked behind a sobbing mermaid, darted into the water lock, then disappeared down a narrow hallway. There were doors on both sides of it—some open, some closed. Ling peered around one and saw a small room with two bunks in it.
That’s when she heard the voices.
Ling looked down the hallway. It ended in a T. The voices were coming from the passage that led off to the right and were growing louder. More death riders, she thought frantically. They’d round the corner any second now.
Ling did the only thing she could think of. She swam into the room.
“Shut the damn door, Arturo,” a sleepy voice said. “I’m trying to take a nap here.”
Ling didn’t utter a sound. She stayed perfectly still, praying that the death rider stretched out on his bunk would fall back asleep.
But he didn’t.
He rolled over, opened his eyes, and blinked at her. Surprise chased the weariness from his face. “You’re not Arturo,” he said, sitting up.
Ling panicked. “Don’t turn me in. Please,” she begged.
But he was on her before she even finished speaking. He grabbed her good arm, twisted it behind her back, and forced her out of his room.
“Captain! This one was trying to escape!” he shouted, as he pushed her back into the water lock.
An officer turned around. He swore at Ling, then backhanded her across her face. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She felt herself being thrust into the cage.
The soldiers crowded so many more mer in with her that she was nearly crushed against the bars. She felt the cage being lowered into the chamber under the hold. An instant later, it was plummeting through the dark ocean. All around her, prisoners were shrieking and sobbing. Ling closed her eyes, devastated. This was the end, it had to be. She’d failed. Sera and others wouldn’t find out that Orfeo was still alive until it was too late. Too late for them. For the waters. For the entire world.
And then the cage hit the seafloor with a bone-rattling thud. As the silt cleared, Ling opened her eyes.
She had once heard that some terragoggs believed in the existence of a place of eternal suffering called hell.
As she looked out through the bars of the cage and saw where they had landed, she believed in it, too.
“I STILL DON’T SEE why you made us pick through a cemetery.”
“Go to sleep, Astrid,” Becca said, as she sorted through a pile of barnacles, looking for a juicy one. A slender piece of whalebone lay across her lap.
“A cemetery!”
“It wasn’t an ordinary cemetery. You know that. It was a whalefall. Gods!” Becca huffed.
A whalefall was the hushed, hallowed ground where the remains of dead whales lay. When a whale’s life was over, her body sank through the water and came to rest on the seafloor. Her flesh provided sustenance for hungry sea creatures, and her skeleton enhanced the magic of any mer lucky enough to happen across it. Whales were highly magical creatures—so magical, in fact, that some of their powers remained in their bones after death.
Becca and Astrid had been swimming together for three days now. Eventually Astrid would have to veer north to Ondalina, and Becca would continue west, but they’d decided that until then they were safer together.
Yesterday, they’d come across the remains of a humpback. Becca had been thrilled; she’d tossed away the kelp stalk she’d been carrying around and had swum through the enormous skeleton, hunting for what she needed—a smooth piece of bone: narrow, cylindrical, and about as long as her forearm. While she searched, Astrid kept a lookout.
Half an hour later, Becca had what she wanted and she and Astrid were on their way again. But ever since they’d left the whalefall, Astrid had been jumpy. She’d swum with her sword in her hand, twitching at every change in the current. Becca had tolerated her behavior, but she was getting fed up now.
An hour ago, they’d made camp for the night under a large coral reef. Becca had cast an illuminata and was working by its light. Astrid announced that she was going to go to sleep. She’d made herself a cozy bed from a few armfuls of seaweed she’d gathered, and had curled up in it, but she was wide awake and driving Becca crazy.
“That place totally gave me the creeps,” she grumbled.
“Yes, you told me that. Twenty times at least,” Becca said, selecting a nice fat barnacle from her pile.
“Bones wherever you look. Scavengers, worms. Places like that draw EisGeists, you know,” Astrid said darkly.
EisGeists were murderous spirits that dwelled in cold waters. Legend had it that Morsa had created them when she was practicing necromancy and trying to unlock the secret of immortality. They were botches—tormented, half-souled specters, neither alive nor dead. Morsa had thrown them into the Arctic Ocean hoping the frigid water would destroy them, but the EisGeists had endured, roaming down into the northern reaches of the Atlantic.
Becca had seen one once and never wanted to see another. It was pale and wraithlike, with long limbs, clawed hands, and white irises. EisGeists fed on bones. They tangled their victims in ropes woven from seaweed and dragged the bodies behind them until the flesh had rotted away.
“Did you see any EisGeists?” Becca asked, trying her best to remain patient with Astrid.
“No,” Astrid admitted grudgingly.
“So what are you worried about?”
“They might’ve seen us. They might be following us. I have this feeling. Like we’re not alone. I keep hearing something, Becca.”
“What?”
“Weird noises…voices…I don’t know.”
“Instead of worrying about nonexistent EisGeists, you should’ve taken a piece of whalebone for yourself while we were in the whalefall. It augments magic, you know.”
Astrid snorted. “Like that matters?” she said.
Becca sighed. She was learning that it was not easy to be Astrid’s friend. One needed a high tolerance for sarcasm and the ability to resist getting drawn into arguments. She understood now why Astrid was the way she was, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with her.
Returning her attention to her work, Becca squeezed the barnacle she’d chosen. A drop of thick, sticky liquid fell from it onto the whalebone. She quickly pressed a shell into the glue and held it in place for a few seconds. Barnacle glue was fast acting and super strong.
For the past few days, Becca had been working diligently to implement her plan to help Astrid—gathering bits of sea glass and polished shells, and carving the piece of whalebone at night after Astrid was asleep.
Becca glued another shell onto the whalebone. She had made a beautiful design of shells and sea glass, and she was nearly done with her project.
Astrid, watching her, said, “What are you doing? Why are you still up? You’re keeping me up. What is that thing, anyway?”
“A murder weapon.” Becca said this through gritted teeth, but she would have shouted it, if she was the shouting type.
“Ha. So funny,” Astrid said. She picked up her sword from where it lay on the seafloor beside her and got out of bed.
“You only just settled down. Why can’t you relax?”
“Because I hear it again…a voice,” Astrid replied.
She swam to the mouth of the cave and looked out into the night waters. As she did, Becca glued the last piece of sea glass into place.
“Becca?”
“Hmmm?” Becca said, inspecting her work.
“Becca?”
“Yes?”
“Becca!”
“Astrid, what do you want?” Becca snapped. “I’m right here. Stop shouting!”
“I didn’t shout!” Astrid shouted. “You did! You shouted my name.”
Becca put the whalebone down. “No,” she said slowly, her fins flaring. “You shouted my name.”
Please…can you hear me? Talk to me! Say something! a voice called out.
Astrid raised her sword, ready to attack whoever, or whatever, was outside the cave. Becca swam to her side.
Astrid, is that you? Becca?
Becca gasped. She knew that voice. “Sera?” she called out. “Is that you? Where are you? I can’t see you. It’s too dark!”
“I’m in your head! I’ve been songcasting for days…trying to get you…”
“What is this? What’s happening?” Astrid asked uncertainly, her sword still raised.
“It’s a convoca!” Becca said excitedly. “Sit down, Astrid. Close your eyes. It’s easier without any distractions.”
“But…but how is this happening? I can’t songcast,” Astrid said, looking bewildered.
“You don’t need to. Sera’s doing the casting. All you have to do is listen. Sit down before we lose her!” Becca ordered. She grabbed Astrid’s free hand and pulled her to the cave floor.
“No way. I’m not part of this. I left, remember?” Astrid said, breaking free of Becca’s grasp. “I’m useless to them.”
Sera was still calling, but her voice had started to fade. Becca panicked. She couldn’t lose her.
“Astrid, can it not be about you for once? I need to see if Sera’s okay. And the others, too. You’re part of this convoca, whether you want to be or not, so stop telling me you’re useless and start being useful. If this spell gets messed up because you won’t participate, I’m going to be really, really angry!”
By the time she finished, Becca was shouting at the top of her lungs.
Astrid blinked and sat down. Then both mermaids closed their eyes.
SERA WAS SONGCASTING with all her might. Neela was with her.
Becca could see them inside her head. “Sera! Neela! You’re safe!” she exclaimed. “You made it out of the Iele’s caves!”
Neela nodded but didn’t speak, not wanting to break Sera’s concentration.
Becca had been so excited to see Sera that she hadn’t focused on her friend’s appearance. She did now and was amazed by the changes she saw. Sera was wearing camo, and her body was leaner and harder than Becca remembered. But the biggest change was one that Becca couldn’t see, only sense: a new sureness. The mermaid she’d met in the River Olt—the one who was hesitant and full of doubt—was gone. A confident leader had taken her place.
As Becca sat, eyes closed, waiting, Astrid appeared in her head, then Ava. Becca felt as if all of them were right next to her, floating in a circle. Happiness flooded through her, but it was quickly replaced by worry when she realized one of them was missing.
“Where’s Ling?” she asked.
“I can’t reach her….I’ve tried and tried,” Sera said anxiously. “Something’s wrong. She’d answer if she could. I know she would.”
“You’ve got everyone else now. Talk quickly, Sera, before the songspell fades,” Neela urged.
“Becca, Ava, you still there?” Sera asked.
“Yes!”
“Right here, querida!” said Ava.
“Okay, got you!” Sera exclaimed. “Astrid? Is that you? I thought I felt you with Becca, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Yeah. Hey, Sera. I met up with Becca and—”
“Does that mean you’re with us now?” Neela asked hopefully.
Astrid’s eyes widened. “What? No! I’m not. I just—”
“Got to interrupt, sorry,” Sera said urgently. “This convoca’s not very strong. I could lose you at any second.” She took a deep breath, then continued. “I’ve got news. Lots of it. Neela and I found our talismans.”
“No way!” Becca said. “Sera, that’s amazing!”
“I also found out where the rest of the talismans are and what they are.”
“That’s huge! Good work, mina!” Ava said.
“It’s a start,” Sera allowed. “But I’m not going to celebrate until we have all six in our hands. Becs, Pyrrha’s talisman is a gold coin with the image of Neria on it. It’s at Cape Horn, with a wind spirit called—”
“The Williwaw,” Becca said grimly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Astrid said.
“Be extremely careful approaching it,” Sera cautioned. “It can stir up a raging storm in seconds.”
“Or don’t approach it all,” Astrid said. “Just a thought.”
Sera ignored her. “Ava, Nyx’s talisman is a ruby ring in a gold setting. It’s in the swamps of the Mississippi, guarded by water spirits called the Okwa Naholo,” she said. “They are serious bad news.”
“Bad news?” Astrid scoffed. “They’re worse than EisGeists! You know they are. Everyone does!”
“What about Sycorax’s talisman?” Becca asked, dread gnawing at her. “And what about Ling?”
“Sycorax’s is a puzzle ball. It’s in the Great Abyss.”
“Which is only, like, a million miles deep,” Astrid pointed out.
“I’m really worried about Ling,” Sera continued. “She’s in trouble. I know it. Ava, can you feel her?”
Ava went quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “I can’t. I’m trying, but I’m getting nothing.”
Sera heaved a troubled sigh.
“There might be a reason, though,” Ava quickly added. “She might be sheltering in a wrecked ship, one with an iron hull. Or she might be in a place with a lot of mer, where it’s not safe to answer.”
Astrid swore, startling everyone. Becca could feel Astrid’s anger growing, and the tension building between her and Sera. She remembered how they’d clashed in the Iele’s caves, several times. They couldn’t even talk, it seemed—not then and not now—without fighting.
“She’
s dead. Face it. The death riders probably got her,” Astrid said. “I told you this would happen, Sera. Back in the River Olt. You’re asking too much of them. Will Ling’s death stop you? Or are you going to keep on with the insanity until Becca’s dead, too? And Ava? And Neela?”
“I’m going to keep on until Abbadon’s dead,” Sera replied, her voice steely and determined. Then she said, “I’m glad you’re part of this convoca, Astrid. Even if you’re still not part of our group. Because I owe you an apology.”
“For what? For getting Ling killed?” Astrid asked. “Not accepted. Because I liked her. A lot.”
“For accusing Ondalina of attacking Miromara. It wasn’t your father; it was my own uncle, Vallerio, who did it in league with one of Miromara’s duchessas—Portia Volnero. He sold out his realm and assassinated his regina—his own sister, my mother. He killed my father, too. Maybe my brother as well. No one’s seen Desiderio since he left to guard our borders.”
“Meu Deus!” Ava exclaimed.
“I didn’t know any of this when we met in the Iele’s caves, but I do now,” said Sera. “I shouldn’t have made the accusations against your realm. I’m sorry.”
Astrid nodded curtly, and it struck Becca how one might think the balance of power had just tipped in her favor, but it hadn’t. Sera had owned a wrong and apologized for it, and she seemed stronger for having done so, not weaker.
“I’m fighting back against my uncle with the help of some brave Miromarans,” Sera continued. “It’s hard. Vallerio wants us dead. We’re going to have to leave Miromara, and look for safe haven…” She hesistated, wary, then said, “Somewhere else. Vallerio’s taken over Matali as well as Miromara.”
“And you’re telling me this why?” Astrid asked.
“My uncle’s searching for the talismans, too. He and Rafe Mfeme are behind the raids on the villages. They’re forcing the stolen mer into labor camps and making them search for the talismans. If Vallerio gets them, he’ll give them to the one who wants to unleash Abbadon. I still don’t know who that person is, but I’m trying to find out. In return, that person will help my uncle take over the other realms. All of them, Astrid.”