Waterfire Saga, Book Three: Dark Tide: A Deep Blue Novel (40 page)

But I am.

L
UCIA CIRCLED THE MALIGNO, the skirts of her gown swirling around her.

It was after midnight. She’d led the creature out of Alítheia’s den and into the ruins of Merrow’s reggia by the light of a weak illuminata spell.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, running a hand across the maligno’s back. She marveled again at the cheekbones, the strong jaw, the broad shoulders, the powerful
blue tail—all exactly the same as Mahdi’s. The only difference was in the creature’s eyes. They had no light. But that didn’t matter. By the time Sera looked into them, it
would be too late.

Lucia stopped in front of the maligno. She held up a small conch. “Speak the words exactly as I told them to you,” she said.

The maligno opened its mouth and in Mahdi’s voice said, “Sera, it’s Mahdi. I’m near the Karg, in the Darktide Shallows. I couldn’t send this news with Allegra.
We’ve got big trouble. Vallerio’s heading for the Karg. He’s got twenty thousand soldiers with him. He’s going to attack. There’s more to tell you, but I can’t
come into the camp. There’s a spy in your midst and I don’t want to be seen. Come to the Shallows. Hurry, Sera.
Please
.”

The maligno spoke with urgency and fear, but all the while, his eyes remained empty and cold.

“Very good,” Lucia said when he finished.

She tucked the conch into the breast pocket of his jacket, then she held something else out to him—Sera’s jacket.

The maligno took it in both hands and pressed it to his face, scenting it for traces of its owner, as a shark scents the water for blood.

Lucia unbuttoned the maligno’s jacket, tucked Sera’s inside, then fastened the creature’s jacket again.

She snapped her fingers, and a huge, ugly black sea scorpion crawled out from under a toppled pillar. Its sting would cause instant paralysis, but it didn’t sting the maligno. It climbed
its tail, crawled up the back of its jacket, and settled on its shoulder.

“Go to the Darktide Shallows. Send the conch to the mermaid Serafina, then wait for her. When you’ve captured her, bring her to me,” Lucia said. She smiled, her eyes glittering
darkly, and added, “Alive.”

T
HE FIRST LIGHT of morning broke across the Kargjord, stealing into the command cave’s entrance and waking Serafina. She was exhausted.
Worried about Ava, she’d barely slept a wink.

As she opened her eyes, she realized she wasn’t the only one who was up. Someone else was making small, hushed noises, as if trying not to wake the others.

Sera raised her head and saw that it was Astrid. She was sitting up in her bed, quietly putting things into her backpack.

As Sera watched, Astrid put on her coat, picked up her backpack, and left the cave. It was barely dawn.

Where’s she going at this hour?
Sera wondered.

She followed, being careful not to disturb Becca, Neela, and Ling, and found Astrid sitting on a rock. She was softly playing the notes of an illuminata songspell on her whalebone pipe. A light,
drawn from the sun’s first rays, formed near her. Sera swam over and sat down next to her.

“Cool trick,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Leaving us again?” Sera asked.

Astrid snorted. “I’ve been trying to leave you ever since I met you. I never seem to get very far.”

Sera smiled at that.

Having made a good illuminata, Astrid put her pipe down. “You’ve changed. A lot. You’ve become an amazing leader,” she said.

Sera was surprised, and pleased, by Astrid’s praise. Compliments were not something Astrid Kolfinnsdottir lavishly bestowed.

“I don’t know about that,” Sera said.

“I do.”

“Thanks. I’m trying. I keep hearing Vr
ă
ja’s words in my head. After you left the Iele’s caves, I sat down with her.”

“Let me guess…to complain about me,” Astrid said.

“Pretty much,” Sera admitted. “While I was with her, Vr
ă
ja told me that to lead, I needed to help the others. I needed to bring out the best in them. She
said I have to help Ling break through silences, and help Neela believe that her greatest power comes from within, not without. I have to help Becca believe that the warmest fire is the one
that’s shared, and help Ava believe that the gods did know what they were doing when they took her sight.”

“You’re doing all that, Sera. The others…they’re different now, too. I can see it.”

“I hope so,” Sera said. “Neela’s changed for sure. Her power really does come from within now. She hasn’t demanded any zee-zees or worried about her hair ever since
we’ve been here.”

Astrid laughed.

“But Becca and Ling? I have no idea. They only just arrived. Ava?” She shook her head. “I only hope I get the chance to find out.”

“And Astrid?” Astrid asked. “What about her?”

“I’m not sure,” Sera said, meeting her frank gaze. “I told Vr
ă
ja you were scared.”

“What did she say?”

“She said
I
was scared,” Sera confessed.

“You both were right,” Astrid said. “I
am
scared, Sera.”

Sera was pretty sure she knew why. “You’ve seen him, too, haven’t you? Orfeo. You didn’t say so, but I saw the expression on your face last night when we were talking
about him,” she said. “Has he come to you in a mirror?”

Astrid nodded. “I didn’t tell you everything. I
have
seen him. He wants me to go to him. He knows I can’t songcast, and he wants to fix me. I’m his descendant.
Which means I have his blood in my veins, the blood of the most powerful mage who ever lived. He wants to make me powerful, too.”

“So you can help him unlock Abbadon,” Sera said. Dread filled her heart. She knew what Astrid was going to say next.

“I’m going to him, Sera. I’ll make him think he’s won me over, and somehow, some way, I will get the black pearl.”

“No, Astrid, you
can’t
,” Sera said vehemently. “It’s way too dangerous.”

“It’s the only way. No one else can get close to him. He’ll kill anyone who tries. I can do this. I can bluff him.”

“Maybe you
can
bluff him,” Sera said. “But can you resist him?”

Astrid cocked her head. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“He’s powerful, Astrid. So powerful that he cheated death. He’s going to focus those powers on you. He’s going to try to make you his own. What if he succeeds?”

“He won’t.”

“Astrid—” Sera said.

“I’m going.”

Sera, furious with her friend, rose and slapped the rock she’d been sitting on with her tail.

“Hey,
that’s
mature,” Astrid said.

“I
just
got us back together,” Sera said angrily. “All of us except Ava. I
need
you, Astrid.”

“Yes, you do. You need me to get the pearl. I’m the only chance we’ve got, and you know it.”

Sera heaved a sigh. As painful as it was to admit it, Astrid was right.

“Find Ava. Get the remaining talisman,” Astrid said. “Then go down to the Southern Ocean with them. I’ll meet you there.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. I’ll get word to you. You may have to wait for me, but I’ll be there, Sera. With the black pearl. I promise.”

“Wherever you’re going, you’re not going alone,” Sera said. “You have us with you now. Me, Neela, Ling, Ava, and Becca…your friends, your sisters.”

Astrid nodded and Sera thought she saw a shimmer of tears in her blue eyes.

“Tell the others good-bye for me,” Astrid said. “And tell Desiderio…tell him I…just tell him thank you.”

“I will,” Sera said.

Astrid turned and swam away. Sera watched her move through the camp as the first rays of sun struggled to penetrate the North Sea gloom. Past caves and tents she swam, getting smaller and
smaller, until she reached the north gate, and was gone.

Sera waited for a while, not wanting to return to the cave just yet. If the others were up, they’d ask where Astrid was. They might try to follow her, to stop her. Sera knew that
wasn’t what Astrid wanted.

From her perch on the rock, Sera watched the camp come to life. She saw the guards change their shifts and Antonio make his way to the mess hall. She wondered how they would find enough food to
feed everyone in the coming days. She wondered where she would find medicine to make Ling and Mulmig better. She wondered if Ava would make it through the day. She wondered where she’d find
the strength she needed to get up off the rock and lead the resistance.

Then she looked at the fresh scar on her hand, and smiled. She had her answer.

As the waters brightened, Sera rose.

“Good luck, Astrid Kolfinnsdottir,” she whispered.

Then she swam back to the cave to rejoin the others.

H
IGH ABOVE THE Black Fins’ camp, on a lonely, current-swept bluff, the maligno floated.

Tireless, dead-eyed, implacable, it coldly surveyed the ragtag group spread out far away in the distance.

The sea scorpion chittered from its perch on the maligno’s shoulder, its venomous tail lashing, its black eyes hateful and bright.

The maligno reached into its pocket, pulled out the small conch its mistress had given it, and wordlessly handed it to the scorpion.

The creature took the conch in its pincers and crawled down the maligno’s back. It scuttled off over the bluff, heading toward the camp.

The maligno watched it go.

Then it smiled and headed for the Darktide Shallows.

C
AN A DRESS change your life?

If it was made by the late Alexander McQueen, then quite possibly yes.

I’ll explain.

Some time ago, I was casting about for a new idea for a novel. Ghosts from the past had inspired all my stories, but I needed to get away from them. Ghosts are beguiling creatures. They give you
their stories but take pieces of your heart in return.

Looking for inspiration, I went to the Metropolitan Museum in New York City. The museum was staging a retrospective of Alexander McQueen’s work. As you may know, McQueen was a clothing
designer—and a brilliant and troubled man.

His collections were shown in dusky jewel-box rooms; walking through them felt like walking through a dark fairy tale. The dresses were so fierce. They were made of cloth and thread, but of
other things, too. Of antlers and skulls. Thorns, flowers, feathers.