I’m sorry you don’t have money to go to the kolegio, but you can’t go unless you do. That’s just the way it is. Nothing can be done about it.
Astrid sat, shoulders slumped, drawing in the silt with her finger. Becca’s green eyes narrowed as she watched her. Astrid had magic inside her—dormant, maybe—but it was there. Becca was sure of it. She could see it sparking in the merl’s intense ice-blue eyes. She could feel it in her sure, powerful movements. The question was how to get it out of her.
Becca immediately went into problem-solving mode, as she always did when confronted with a challenge. An idea started to form in her mind. Becca was an expert at coming up with strategies. Life was often messy and unpredictable, but a good plan could make it neat and orderly. She would need a few things to carry out this particular plan: a length of bamboo or some sort of water reed. Better yet, whalebone. Some pretty shells, too.
Becca was not only good at making things, she was good at making things better. Life in foster homes had taught her that if she waited for someone else to make things better, she’d be waiting a very long time.
“Hey, we’d better get going,” Becca said. “Sitting here all day isn’t going to get us home.”
Astrid raised an eyebrow. “That was sudden,” she said.
“Yeah, well. I, um, just realized…that we probably shouldn’t hang out here all day,” Becca said. “You know, death riders and all.”
She rose and grabbed her travel case. Astrid slung her backpack over her shoulder. As they swam out of the cave, Becca spotted something glinting from the seafloor, half in and half out of the silt. She bent down to pick it up.
“What is it?” Astrid asked.
“A piece of sea glass,” Becca replied, showing her her find. It was cobalt blue, polished by sand and surf to a milky opaqueness. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Dreaming up a new shade for your Whirlpearl Glitterbombs?” Astrid teased, referring to the line of songpearl cosmetics Becca had mentioned on their way to the Iele’s caves.
“No, I just like bright, shiny things,” Becca said airily. “They inspire me, you know? You never know where your next big idea will come from.”
“For an eyeshadow,” Astrid said. “Or a lipstick.”
“Or something that just might save the world,” Becca said, pocketing the sea glass.
Astrid laughed.
Becca didn’t.
“GET UP!” the death rider shouted, slapping an elderly merman with his powerful tail fins.
A dozen soldiers—spearguns drawn—had swum into the Bedrie?r’s hold. They were herding frightened prisoners out of the ship’s containment area and into the water lock.
Ling rose in the water, straining against her chain, trying to see what was happening. She glimpsed a large cage. Prisoners were being forced into it. When the cage was full, a hatch was opened and the cage was lowered into a chamber underneath the ship’s hull.
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.