Dark Tide (Waterfire Saga #3)

It was staggeringly immense and whirling furiously. Looking up through the water, Astrid and Des could see that its funnel-like mouth, raised to the surface, was swallowing everything around it. Its eyes, two bright spots on the waves, shone with a gluttonous glee.

As Astrid watched it, wondering how she was going to even get near it, she saw objects of all shapes and sizes spin by: wooden rowboats, plastic bottles, buoys, kayaks, fishing nets, fishermen, orange life jackets, a couple of yachts.

She had an idea about how to approach the maelstrom, but would it work? Or would she find herself spinning around helplessly inside it, just another piece of debris?

Two days ago, before she and Des had left the shelter of the shipping container, Astrid had gone on a treasure hunt. She’d raided the container, opening boxes and crates, and taking anything interesting and shiny she came across. Stuffing it all in the large duffel bag she’d found, she had swum to Desiderio, who was busy cleaning Elskan’s tack.

“What do you think?” she’d asked, holding up a pair of neon-green sneakers.

Des had frowned, confused. “You’re not going all Hans Christian Andersen on me, are you?” he’d asked.

Astrid had laughed. That gogg fairy tale was well-known among the mer—as the most ridiculous story they’d ever heard. Who would ever want to trade fins and a tail for feet?

“No, I’m finding things to offer to the Qanikkaaq,” she’d said, holding up strings of shiny Mardi Gras beads and a plastic silver trophy. “I’m hoping it will do a trade with me.”

“A magical black pearl from a goddess…for a bunch of gogg junk?” Des had asked skeptically.

“I was going to phrase the offer a bit differently,” Astrid had said. “How about: all of these rare and precious sparkling treasures for one dull little pearl? I’m hoping the Qanikkaaq is a more-is-more kind of a guy.”

“Or a total idiot,” Desiderio had said.

Now it was time to try out her idea. Floating here watching the maelstrom spin wasn’t getting them any closer to finding out if the black pearl was still inside it. Astrid was nervous, but trying not to show it. Her plan was sound and it risked only her safety, not Desiderio’s. But would it be effective? Without magic, Astrid had to rely on strength and cunning. She had plenty of both, but would they be enough to outwit the maelstrom?

“Do you have the rope?” she asked Des.

“Yup,” he replied. “You sure about this?”

“Not at all,” Astrid said.

“Let me do it.”

“No, Des. It’s for me to do,” she said. This was her quest and the dangers were for her to face.

Des nodded. He’d searched the container, too, and had turned up a coil of strong nylon rope. He was carrying it over one shoulder. He shrugged it off now, knotted a loop into one end, and handed it to Astrid. While she put her arms through it and pulled it down around her waist, Desiderio made another loop in the other end of the rope. That one went over Elskan’s head.

The orca was hovering nearby, eyeing the Qanikkaaq uncertainly. The duffel bag full of gogg plunder was attached to her saddle. Astrid swam over to Elskan and unhooked it.

“Ready?” Desiderio asked tensely.

Astrid said she was, and Desiderio led Elskan forward to take the slack out of the rope.

“Greetings, mighty Qanikkaaq!” she shouted as she neared the maelstrom, unsure exactly how to address it.

The maelstrom slowed its spinning. It tilted its giant face down to look at Astrid. As it did, the surface waters became calm.

“Why have you interrupted my meal, mermaid?” the Qanikkaaq asked, glowering.

“I beg your pardon, Your…Maelstromness,” Astrid said. “I’m searching for a black pearl. And I thought a magnificent whirlpool such as yourself must have one.”

“Whirlpool?” the Qanikkaaq said, clearly offended.

“I meant, powerful, amazing, super-impressive vortex of doom,” Astrid hastily said.

Desiderio’s eyebrows shot up. Vortex of doom? he mouthed.

The Qanikkaaq was somewhat mollified. “And if I had such a pearl, why would I give it to you?” it asked.

“Because I will give you ten times as much treasure in return,” Astrid replied.

The Qanikkaaq was pleased. It chuckled—a low, deep, gurgling sound. “Come closer, mermaid. Show me what you have.”

“Astrid, be careful,” Desiderio warned.

“I’ve got this, Des,” Astrid said. She moved toward the maelstrom. The Qanikkaaq’s eyes fastened on her bag. Astrid took out the silver trophy and tossed it to the creature. It greedily sucked the trinket in. She tossed a handful of Mardi Gras beads next, a ball covered in tiny squares of mirror glass, and then the neon sneakers.

“That’s just the beginning, great Qanikkaaq,” she said. “There’s plenty more where that came from, and it’s all yours if you give me the pearl.”

“I can’t hear you very well,” the Qanikkaaq said. “I am very old and my ears are not what they used to be. Come closer.”

Astrid knew what the maelstrom was up to—it wanted to swallow her—but she inched forward, playing along.

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