Waterfire Saga, Book Three: Dark Tide: A Deep Blue Novel (15 page)

“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.

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.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her so passionately, with such longing, that it made her tail fins curl. Then he held her close, his forehead touching hers.

“I can’t stay long,” he whispered. “There’s a party going on, and I was able to sneak away, but I have to get back before I’m missed.”

“How did you get out of the palace?” she asked.

“A transparensea pearl and a window. I’ve got another pearl to get me back in. Listen, Sera, before I go, there are things I need to tell you,” he said.
“Something’s afin. Something big.”

“What is it?” Sera asked, breaking their embrace.

“I wish I knew,” Mahdi replied. “But Vallerio and Traho are spending a lot of time behind closed doors with a merman named Baco Goga. They’re plotting something,
I’m sure of it.”

Sera’s fins prickled. “Baco’s bad news. He’s the one who sold us—Neela and me—to Traho.”

“I think he’s a spy. But I don’t know who he’s spying on.”

“Not us. We would have seen him.”

Mahdi looked unconvinced. “Keep your eyes peeled for him. Tell the others to do the same.”

“I will,” Sera said.

“There’s more. Portia Volnero’s about to leave for Ondalina. It’s Vallerio’s next target. And then there’s Lucia. I pay one of her ladies-in-waiting to keep
an eye out for me. She told me Lucia’s been sneaking out of the palace at night, but she doesn’t know where she goes.”

“It can’t be good,” Sera said grimly.

“I’ll pass on any info that I learn,” Mahdi said.

“How?” Sera asked. “Your groom won’t be able to get to us anymore. We’ll be too far away from each other.”

“There’s a farmer. Her name’s Allegra. She delivers produce to the palace kitchens. She has a network of family between Miromara and the North Sea. They’re willing to
pass conchs back and forth between us.”

Sera took his hand and squeezed it. “That’s good news,” she said, pleased at the thought of being able to stay in touch with him somehow. She hated that they never had time to
talk about all the silly things two mer in love talked about, but the exchange of information crucial to the resistance was what mattered—not the way the moonglow glinted in his amazing eyes
or how the dark waters seemed to deepen the blue of his tail. Maybe one day, when all of this was behind them, there would be time for that.

As Mahdi took her other hand, Sera thought of something else she needed to know.

“Have you heard anything from Duca Armando’s son?” she asked. “The palazzo’s empty. And no one can find him.”

“No, I don’t know where he is. The Praedatori have scattered. Vallerio has branded them traitors; he wants their heads.”

“Make sure my uncle doesn’t brand
you
a traitor, Mahdi. I worry about you so much. Be careful. Promise me you will.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You’re in a lot more danger than I am.”

Sera shook her head. “I’m surrounded by friends and fellow fighters,” she said. “You’re surrounded by cold-blooded killers. If they ever find out where your
loyalties really lie…”

“They
won’t
,” Mahdi said. “I’ve won them over.”

“You do have irresistible charm,” Sera teased, smiling.

He pulled her close and kissed her one last time. “I’ve got to go,” he whispered.

Sera nodded and released him. “Good-bye, Mahdi,” she said. Tears blurred her vision. She hastily wiped them away. Reginas didn’t cry. Not for themselves.

“Good-bye, Sera. Please stay safe,” he said. “You have my heart and my soul. You
are
my heart and soul. Never forget that.”

Sera watched him swim back into the orchard and fade into the trees. And then he was gone.

“Will I ever see him again?” she whispered to the ancient trees. “Will I ever return to Miromara?”

She took a deep breath, pulling the waters of home deep into her lungs, imprinting the scent of water apples, the glow of the moon, and the warmth of Mahdi’s touch in her heart, where she
would keep them always. No matter what happened.