Dark Tide (Waterfire Saga #3)

In that instant, Becca’s paralysis broke.

She looked at her hands. One was still shimmering, but not much. I’m still mostly invisible. The cod’s still here. And I’m crafty. In more ways than one. I can do this, she told herself.

She looked at the Williwaw again, only yards away now, and knew she had about sixty seconds.

“Fish!” she hissed. “Do you still want the squid?”

“What do you think?”

“Then do exactly what I say.”





THE WILLIWAW SPOKE as it flew into the cave. To Becca, its voice sounded like the vengeful howl of a gale one second, the mad shriek of a hurricane the next. It hovered over another ledge, where it tossed its latest gleanings—driftwood, a fishing pole, an oar—then flew up to its nest. Becca’s heart thumped with fear. She was sitting on the far edge of the nest, her back against the cave wall, her tail pulled up under her. She could see the spirit’s terrible talons, curved and sharp, as it raked through padding, plumping it up. After a moment, it turned away from her, faced the front of its nest, and settled. It folded its wings along its back and started to preen them.

Where’s that fish? Becca wondered anxiously, praying that the cod hadn’t changed its mind. Mer could breathe air for a little while but it was difficult, and Becca’s lungs were beginning to feel the strain.

As if on cue, the fish poked his head out of the water.

“Hail, great Williwaw!” he said.

The Williwaw leaned forward menacingly. “What do you want, fish?”

“The ghosts sent me. There’s a bit of a fracas going on at the Achilles, and they told me to give you a heads-up.”

The wind spirit spoke to the fish in its own language, just as Becca had done. She was able to understand everything they said. So far, so good, she thought. The cod was saying exactly what she’d told it to.

“What do you mean there’s a fracas?” the Williwaw asked.

“Seems that Cassio, the sky god—”

“I know who Cassio is,” the Williwaw said.

“Right. Well, Cassio’s got a thing for Neféli, a cloud nymph. She saw your locket yesterday when you were flying around, and she wants it. So Cassio sent some heavies to get it. Trykel and Spume are down below, battling the ghosts. Looks like they’ll be coming in through that crack in the rock any second. And Zephyros is planning to attack from the air. I’m sure he’ll be popping through there”—the cod nodded at the opening the Williwaw had flown through—“pretty soon. So you might want to take the locket off and hide it. Just a suggestion.”

Good job! Becca said silently. Trykel and Spume, the gods of the tides, and Zephyros, Cassio’s son, were more powerful than the Williwaw. The wind spirit was sure to be alarmed.

But it wasn’t. Instead, it laughed.

“You want me to take off the locket so you can get it,” it said. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Stupid? No. Paranoid? Maybe,” the cod said.

The Williwaw jumped onto the edge of its nest and snapped its fearsome beak in anger.

“Chill, Will. As I’m sure you can see, I’m a fish. I don’t have legs or wings or a hovercraft. So there’s no way I’m getting into your nest to steal the locket. I don’t even have a neck, so what good is it to me? Don’t hide the locket. I really don’t care. The ghosts told me to warn you, and I did. So I’m out of here.”

The cod flipped its tail and dove, but Becca knew it wasn’t finished yet. She’d told it to swim in circles just below the surface to stir up the water and make the Williwaw think Trykel and Spume were coming.

At first nothing happened. But then the water started to swirl, and bubbles rose. The Williwaw saw it and screeched. It tore the locket from its neck, dug up the padding in its nest, and hid the locket under it. Then it climbed back on the edge, its back to Becca once more, its sharp eyes darting between the churning water and the entrance high above it.

Slowly, taking care not to make any noise, Becca slid off her perch. Her lungs felt like they were on fire. Her heart was pounding. It hurt to put her weight on her tail fins. Both hands were shimmering now.

The Williwaw was muttering anxiously to itself, making enough noise to cover the creaks and pops that Becca was causing. Never taking her eyes off the creature, she pulled up the padding, thrust her hand into the hollow under it, and retrieved the locket.

It seemed to glow even brighter in her hand. She could feel its power. Excitement coursed through her. She had Pyrrha’s talisman at last! But fear quickly edged out her excitement. She was even more scared now that she possessed the coin. Because it was hers to lose.

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