“You’re doing all that, Sera. The others…they’re different now, too. I can see it.”
“I hope so,” Sera said. “Neela’s changed for sure. Her power really does come from within now. She hasn’t demanded any zee-zees or worried about her hair ever since we’ve been here.”
Astrid laughed.
“But Becca and Ling? I have no idea. They only just arrived. Ava?” She shook her head. “I only hope I get the chance to find out.”
“And Astrid?” Astrid asked. “What about her?”
“I’m not sure,” Sera said, meeting her frank gaze. “I told Vr?ja you were scared.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I was scared,” Sera confessed.
“You both were right,” Astrid said. “I am scared, Sera.”
Sera was pretty sure she knew why. “You’ve seen him, too, haven’t you? Orfeo. You didn’t say so, but I saw the expression on your face last night when we were talking about him,” she said. “Has he come to you in a mirror?”
Astrid nodded. “I didn’t tell you everything. I have seen him. He wants me to go to him. He knows I can’t songcast, and he wants to fix me. I’m his descendant. Which means I have his blood in my veins, the blood of the most powerful mage who ever lived. He wants to make me powerful, too.”
“So you can help him unlock Abbadon,” Sera said. Dread filled her heart. She knew what Astrid was going to say next.
“I’m going to him, Sera. I’ll make him think he’s won me over, and somehow, some way, I will get the black pearl.”
“No, Astrid, you can’t,” Sera said vehemently. “It’s way too dangerous.”
“It’s the only way. No one else can get close to him. He’ll kill anyone who tries. I can do this. I can bluff him.”
“Maybe you can bluff him,” Sera said. “But can you resist him?”
Astrid cocked her head. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“He’s powerful, Astrid. So powerful that he cheated death. He’s going to focus those powers on you. He’s going to try to make you his own. What if he succeeds?”
“He won’t.”
“Astrid—” Sera said.
“I’m going.”
Sera, furious with her friend, rose and slapped the rock she’d been sitting on with her tail.
“Hey, that’s mature,” Astrid said.
“I just got us back together,” Sera said angrily. “All of us except Ava. I need you, Astrid.”
“Yes, you do. You need me to get the pearl. I’m the only chance we’ve got, and you know it.”
Sera heaved a sigh. As painful as it was to admit it, Astrid was right.
“Find Ava. Get the remaining talisman,” Astrid said. “Then go down to the Southern Ocean with them. I’ll meet you there.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. I’ll get word to you. You may have to wait for me, but I’ll be there, Sera. With the black pearl. I promise.”
“Wherever you’re going, you’re not going alone,” Sera said. “You have us with you now. Me, Neela, Ling, Ava, and Becca…your friends, your sisters.”
Astrid nodded and Sera thought she saw a shimmer of tears in her blue eyes.
“Tell the others good-bye for me,” Astrid said. “And tell Desiderio…tell him I…just tell him thank you.”
“I will,” Sera said.
Astrid turned and swam away. Sera watched her move through the camp as the first rays of sun struggled to penetrate the North Sea gloom. Past caves and tents she swam, getting smaller and smaller, until she reached the north gate, and was gone.
Sera waited for a while, not wanting to return to the cave just yet. If the others were up, they’d ask where Astrid was. They might try to follow her, to stop her. Sera knew that wasn’t what Astrid wanted.
From her perch on the rock, Sera watched the camp come to life. She saw the guards change their shifts and Antonio make his way to the mess hall. She wondered how they would find enough food to feed everyone in the coming days. She wondered where she would find medicine to make Ling and Mulmig better. She wondered if Ava would make it through the day. She wondered where she’d find the strength she needed to get up off the rock and lead the resistance.
Then she looked at the fresh scar on her hand, and smiled. She had her answer.
As the waters brightened, Sera rose.
“Good luck, Astrid Kolfinnsdottir,” she whispered.
Then she swam back to the cave to rejoin the others.
HIGH ABOVE THE Black Fins’ camp, on a lonely, current-swept bluff, the maligno floated.
Tireless, dead-eyed, implacable, it coldly surveyed the ragtag group spread out far away in the distance.
The sea scorpion chittered from its perch on the maligno’s shoulder, its venomous tail lashing, its black eyes hateful and bright.
The maligno reached into its pocket, pulled out the small conch its mistress had given it, and wordlessly handed it to the scorpion.
The creature took the conch in its pincers and crawled down the maligno’s back. It scuttled off over the bluff, heading toward the camp.
The maligno watched it go.
Then it smiled and headed for the Darktide Shallows.