Sera’s heart ached. “I’m so sorry, Sophia,” she said. She knew the mermaid’s pain all too well. She’d lost her own parents to Vallerio and his death riders. Her brother, Desiderio, was missing.
“They don’t get to hurt mer and tear families apart all for power and gold,” Sophia continued, her expression grim and determined. “I’m a Black Fin because I want to do everything I can to stop them. Which means getting you back to HQ. There’s got to be a way out besides the crack we swam through. Merrow got in and out of here, after all. I know she was powerful, but even she couldn’t swim through stone.”
Sera nodded wearily. “Let’s start looking for it.”
“No, I’m going to look for it. You are going to sit down, close your eyes, and gather your strength.”
Sera protested, but Sophia was firm, so she sat and rested her throbbing tail. Across the room, Merrow’s image gazed down at her, and Sera had the unshakable feeling that her ancestor was helping her.
“Thanks for this,” Sera whispered. “Thanks for the Black Fins and the manta rays. Thanks for getting us into the vaults. And for saving us from the dragons.”
Before she closed her eyes, she thanked her ancestor for one more thing—for the fighter by her side who was brave, loyal, and strong.
For an ally and a friend.
For Sophia.
WITHOUT ANY WARNING, the trawler’s engines stopped. Their deep thrum had been a constant for the past three weeks, and the sudden silence hung ominously in the water.
“Why are we stopping? What’s happening?” a mermaid cried out.
Ling, who’d been sitting down, her tail stretched out in front of her, her back against the cold steel of the ship’s hull, was instantly alert. We’re here. Wherever here is, she thought with a sense of dread. You’ve got one last chance. It’s now or never.
The mermaid who’d cried out spoke again. “Please,” she said, her voice trembling with fear. “Where are they taking us?”
Ling saw that the mermaid was very close by. Two small children clung to her.
“Shut up, will you? You’re making it worse!” a merman yelled.
“Don’t shout at her. She’s scared,” Ling said.
“We’re all scared!” the merman shot back.
“But we’re not all acting like jerks,” said Ling.
The merman lunged at her, but a chain brought him up short.
“Momma, I’m hungry,” one of the mermaid’s children said. “Why did the noise stop? I don’t like this!”
“Shh, it’s okay,” the mermaid soothed. “They’ll bring us some food soon. It’ll be all right.”
But it wouldn’t be. In fact, Ling was sure things were about to go from bad to worse. She needed to escape before that happened. She had to find a way to tell Sera and the others what she’d learned aboard this ship.
There was only one way out, though—through the door that separated the prisoners’ containment area from the rest of the hold. Beyond the door was a water lock. The death riders used it to enter and exit the ship. Ling had watched them operate it when they brought her aboard; she had tried to memorize which buttons they pushed on the control panel. If she could get to it, she might be able to let herself out. But she was shackled to the ship’s hull and the guards had the keys. They wore them on rings secured to their belts with a loop and toggle, right next to their speargun holsters.
She’d tried to steal the keys before. Once by pretending to collapse and fall against a guard. Another time by tugging on a guard’s arm as she begged for food. The guards were wary of prisoners’ tricks, though, and all she ever managed to get for her trouble was a slap.
But now the ship had stopped. Something was going on; she could sense it. Maybe that something would give her the chance she needed.
Ling, together with about three hundred other mer, was imprisoned aboard the Bedrie?r, an immense trawler. The vessel’s hold was filled with salt water, but there were so many mer packed into it that the water had become murky and hard to breathe. The prisoners all had iron collars around their necks to prevent them from songcasting. Some—the ones the death riders thought troublesome—were chained to the wall. Ling’s time aboard the ship had taken its toll. Her left eye was badly bruised. Her hair was matted. The cast on her arm was dirty, and the once-bright orange patches on her ivory tail were dull.
The Bedrie?r belonged to a brutal terragogg named Rafe Iaoro Mfeme. Or so Ling had thought when she’d first been hauled aboard it. She’d entered the waters of Qin and had been making her way home when death riders had surrounded her. After interrogating her on the whereabouts of the talismans—and getting nothing out of her—Mfeme had revealed his true identity.
He was Orfeo, the most powerful mage who’d ever lived.