“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.”
Sera paused here, to let the weight of her words sink in. Then she said, “When I was in Cerulea, I spied on Vallerio and Portia and overheard Portia say that the person who wants to free Abbadon has two of the talismans—Merrow’s and Orfeo’s.”
“But I thought you had Merrow’s talisman,” Ava countered.
“I do. Vallerio has what he thinks is Merrow’s blue diamond, but it’s only a fake. I have the real one,” Sera explained. “Orfeo’s talisman is a black pearl that Morsa gave him. I’m praying that the pearl Portia mentioned is also a fake, and hoping that the real one is still where Merrow hid it—in a maelstrom off the coast of Greenland.”
Astrid laughed harshly. “Good luck trying to get it. That maelstrom? It’s called the Qanikkaaq. It swallows trawlers whole.”
“I don’t need luck, Astrid. I need you,” Sera said. “I need you to go to the maelstrom, find out if the real pearl’s still inside it, and get it out if it is.”
Astrid looked trapped. “I told you, Sera…I can’t. I just can’t,” she said.
Becca knew why. She wished she could tell the others, but she couldn’t. It was for Astrid to do, not her.
Sera nodded stoically, but her eyes told a different story. Becca saw the desperation in them. The convoca started to weaken. The image blurred. Voices rose as everyone tried to talk at once, then they faded. Becca heard broken pleas, warnings, and good-byes.
“…anything from Ling, get word to me…”
“…don’t go alone…”
“…careful! Those waters…”
“…love you, merl…”
And then Sera, Neela, and Ava were gone, and it was just Becca and Astrid again. Astrid rose, angrily slapped her tail fin against the cave’s wall, then swam outside and stared into the darkness.
Becca joined her. “I’m not going home,” she said. “Not now. I’m going straight to Cape Horn. I’ve got to get that talisman from the Williwaw.” She was quiet for a bit, then added, “You want to help her, too. I know you do. I saw it in your eyes.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Astrid said miserably.
“Then it’s a good thing I do,” said Becca.
She swam back to where she’d been sitting, picked up the object she’d been working on, and handed it to Astrid. In Becca’s clever hands, the whalebone had become a slim, graceful pipe. It had a tapered mouthpiece and several stops.
Astrid looked at it uncertainly. “It’s beautiful, Becs. It’s more than beautiful—it’s amazing.” She raised her eyes to Becca’s. “But what am I supposed to do with it?”
Becca smiled. “Make magic.”
ASTRID EYED THE slender whalebone pipe.
A few minutes ago, there had been anger in her eyes. Now they were filled with a mixture of hope and fear.
Becca wasn’t surprised to see those emotions together. She knew that sometimes hope was the scariest feeling of all.
“Is this some weird Atlantean custom?” Astrid asked. “Giving mer instruments they don’t know how to play?”
Becca didn’t answer. Instead, she hummed a simple canta prax melody—one of the first taught to mer children. It was a camouflage songspell, used by mer to turn themselves bright green so they could blend in with algae or kelp.
“I learned that when I was little. Did you? When you could still sing?” she asked.
Astrid nodded.
“Try it,” Becca said. “It’s not hard to play.”
Astrid shrugged. “If it’ll make you happy.”
She touched the mouthpiece to her lips, placed her fingers over the stops, and sounded a few notes. After a few minutes, she had most of the melody figured out. Taking a deep breath, she played it through, with only a few mistakes.