Half an hour later, she was back at the edge of the Abyss. Lights glowed in the distance. Ling knew they were from the labor camp. She needed to make wake and get far away from it.
“Thank you,” she said to the fangtooth and the angler. She was so overcome with emotion—gratitude, relief, awe—that, for once, she felt tongue-tied. “You…you saved my life.”
“We know why they’re searching for the white ball. We hear them talking,” the fangtooth said, nodding at the camp. “They mustn’t win. Go, mermaid. Save many more lives.”
Ling nodded. She watched the two fish return to the deep, then started her long journey. She would travel to Miromara, to find Sera. To prepare for the coming war.
But she would make one stop first. To give her strength to one who needed it. To set things right.
Ling turned and headed for home.
“MARCO, ARE YOU sure you’re not really a merman disguised as a human?” Becca teased.
They were in the ocean, swimming. Marco, floating on his back, raised his feet and wiggled his toes. Becca saw webbing between them.
“Wow,” she said, laughing.
“It’s a genetic mutation,” he said. “All the males in the Contorini line have it.”
He dove under the water, came up a foot in front of Becca, and splashed her.
“Really?” Becca said, giving him a look. She raised her tail fins and slapped them down, nearly drowning him.
He shook the water off his face and they swam together. He insisted that they anchor the boat for an hour every day at noon, so he could make lunch, Elisabetta could nap, and Becca could swim.
“You need to move,” he’d told her. “You need to work all the sore bits, or everything will cramp up.”
Becca left the boat through a small water lock in its hull, directly underneath the saltwater tank. Today, Marco had pulled off his T-shirt and jumped in with her, bronze and bare-chested. Becca marveled at how strong and graceful he was in the water. She had no idea humans could be those things.
The wind had picked up now and the waves were choppy, but even so it felt wonderful to Becca to move through the ocean after being in the Marlin’s small tank. It was even better since Marco had joined her.
They talked as they swam. Becca had known Marco for only four days, yet she felt like she’d known him her entire life. They never ran out of things to say to each other.
“Any word on Ava?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “The American Wave Warriors reached the Mississippi, but they haven’t found her yet. The swamps are enormous, and she could be anywhere. I know their leader, Allie Edmonds. She won’t give up.”
“And Ling?”
Marco shook his head.
Becca’s heart felt heavy. She feared the worst. She tried to convoca all her friends whenever she got back into the ocean, but she never had any success. The spell was insanely hard and tended to work best when several mer were casting it together.
“We have heard that Astrid’s okay,” Marco said. “And that she’s making her way to the Karg with Desiderio, Sera’s brother.”
“Some good news! Finally,” Becca said, encouraged.
“We’ll get you to the Karg, too,” Marco said. “Don’t doubt that for a minute.”
“I can’t thank you both enough for all that you’ve done for me already,” Becca said.
Marco shrugged. “You don’t need to thank us. It’s what we do.”
“I do need to thank you,” Becca insisted. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Marco turned to look at her. “I don’t even want to think about that.”
His gaze, suddenly intense, held Becca’s as he spoke. For a second, she thought she saw something in it—something more than friendly concern. She quickly looked away, feeling flustered and self-conscious.
“What will you do?” she asked, changing the subject. “After you get me to the Karg, I mean.”
“Head back to the Pacific,” Marco replied. “We were helping marine animals there. The elder of Qin and his forces are overwhelmed. It’s a bad scene, Becca. Birds are swallowing pieces of plastic they mistake for fish. It makes their stomachs rupture. Dolphins are getting tangled in fishing nets and drowning. Turtles eat plastic bags that they think are jellyfish. The bags block their intestines and they starve.”
Marco’s eyes hardened as he spoke. Becca could hear the anger, and the sadness, in his voice.
“People don’t get it. Because most of them don’t see ocean pollution. If anyone dumped garbage in the Alps, on the Serengeti, or in the Grand Canyon, there would be hell to pay.”
A sea turtle swam close by them. Marco reached out his hand, skimming it over the graceful creature’s shell.
“Isn’t her life worth more than a plastic bag?” he asked, watching the turtle swim off.
“Yes, it is,” Becca said softly.