“Mom!” she cried. Pushing her way savagely through the crowd, she streaked to the far end of the hall. A horrible sight greeted her there. Isabella lay on the floor by her throne, thrashing her tail wildly. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and red froth flecked her lips. She didn’t recognize Vallerio, or her ladies, and was clawing at her doctor as he tried to stanch her bleeding. Serafina knelt by her mother, but her uncle pulled her away.
“You can’t help her. Stay back. Let the doctor do his work,” he said.
“Uncle Vallerio, what’s wrong?” Serafina cried. “What’s happening to her?”
Vallerio shook his head. “The arrow—”
“But she pulled it out! I don’t understand…”
“It’s too late, Sera,” Vallerio said. “The arrow was poisoned.”
SERAFINA WAS CRAZED WITH FEAR.
“No!” she shouted at her uncle. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong!”
Vallerio’s tone softened. “Sera, the doctor’s certain it’s brillbane. He recognizes the symptoms. It only comes from one source—an arctic sculpin.”
“An arctic sculpin,” Serafina repeated woodenly. “That means—”
“—that Admiral Kolfinn has attacked us. The soldiers are wearing black uniforms—the color of Ondalina. They’re Kolfinn’s troops, I’m sure of it. This means war.”
Serafina pushed him away, skirted around the doctor, who was pressing a fresh dressing over Isabella’s wound, and sat down on the floor by her mother. She shrugged out of the costly mantle she was still wearing, balled it up, and put it under her mother’s head.
“Mom? Mom! Can you hear me?” she said, taking her hand. It was covered in blood.
Isabella stopped writhing. It was as if Serafina’s voice was a lifeline. She opened her eyes. Their gaze was far away. “Your songspell was so beautiful, Sera,” she said. “I didn’t get to tell you that.”
“Shh, Mom, don’t talk,” Serafina said, but Isabella ignored her.
“Everyone looks so beautiful. The room does, too, with all the anemones in bloom and the chandeliers blazing and your father and brother, don’t they look handsome?”
Serafina realized that her mother thought the Dokimí celebrations were taking place. The poison was affecting her mind.
“Why are you here, Sera? Why aren’t you dancing with Mahdi?” Isabella asked, agitated. “Why don’t I hear any music?”
“The musicians are taking a break, Mom,” Sera fibbed, in an effort to soothe her. “They’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“He loves you.”
Wow. She’s totally out of her mind, Serafina thought.
“I glanced at him once or twice. In the Kolisseo. You should have seen his face while you were songcasting. I’m happy for you, Sera, and for Miromara. The bond between our realms will be even stronger if true love unites them.” She grimaced suddenly. “My side…something’s wrong.”
“Lie still, Mom,” said Serafina. “You have to rest now. How about we trade places for tonight? I’ll be regina, you be principessa. And my first act as monarch is to order you to bed. You are to put your fins up, listen to gossip conchs, and eat plenty of kanjaywoohoos.”
Isabella tried to smile. “Neela brought them?”
“And chillawondas, bing-bangs, janteeshaptas, and zee-zees. My chambers look like a Matali sweet shop.”
Isabella laughed, but her laughter brought on a terrible fit of coughing. Blood sprayed from her lips. She moaned piteously. Her eyes closed.
“Help her! Please!” Serafina whispered to the doctor.
But the doctor shook his head. “There’s very little I can do,” he said quietly.
After a few seconds, Isabella opened her eyes again. Their gaze was not far away now, but focused and sharp. She squeezed Serafina’s hand. “You are still so young, my darling. I haven’t prepared you well enough. There’s so much you still need to learn.” There was an urgency to her voice.
“Mom, stop talking. You need to be still,” Serafina said.
“No…no time,” Isabella said, her chest hitching. “Listen to me…remember what I tell you. Conte Bartolomeo is the wisest of my ministers. Vallerio will be regent, of course, until you’re eighteen, and Bartolomeo’s the only one strong enough to put your uncle in his place.” Isabella paused to catch her breath, then said, “Conte Orsino, I trust with my life. Keep a close eye on the Volnero and the di Remora. They are loyal now, but may work to undermine you if they sense an advantage elsewhere.”
“Mom, stop!” Serafina said fearfully. “You’re scaring me. I was only joking about being regina!”
“Sera, listen to me!” Isabella’s voice was fading. Serafina had to lean close to hear her. “If we are not able to fend off the attackers, you must get to the vaults. And then, if you can, go to Tsarno. To the fortress there—” She coughed again. Serafina wiped the blood from her lips with the hem of her gown.
Vallerio joined them. The doctor looked at him. “Send for the canta magus,” he said.
Serafina knew what that meant. The canta magus was summoned when a regina was dying, to sing the ancient chants that released a mer soul back to the sea. “No!” she cried. “She’s going to be all right! Make her be all right!”