“Quite true,” the duca said. “Poison is too slow. They”—he pointed to the back of the pool—“get the job done much faster.”
Neither mermaid had noticed, but half a dozen dorsal fins were sticking out of the water. The mako sharks to whom they were attached circled lazily at the far end of the pool. Sera knew that makos were keen predators.
The duca leaned down, stuck his hand in the water, and rapped three times against the side of the pool. The sharks immediately swam to him and raised their noses. He scratched the head of the largest one.
“The best possible alarm system,” he said. “Smart, quick, and able to sense the tiniest vibrations in the water.” The shark whose nose he was scratching butted his hand impatiently. “Sì, piccolo. Sì, mio caro. Che è un bravo ragazzo?” the duca crooned. He tossed them sardines from a bucket.
The tenderness that the duca, a human, showed the sharks dispelled Serafina’s last doubts. Anyone who pets a mako and calls it “little one” and “my darling” and “good boy” is for real, she thought.
Ravenous, she swam to the steps and hoisted herself up them. Neela followed her. There were all manner of delicacies on the tray Filomena had brought. Pickled limpets. Walrus milk cheese. A salad of chopped sea cucumber and water apple. Sliced sand melon.
Neela ate a piece of sand melon. And then another. She pressed a hand to her chest, closed her eyes and said, “Positively invincible.”
The duca looked puzzled. “Is that a good thing?” he asked.
“A very good thing,” Serafina said, smiling. “Thank you, Duca Armando,” she added, reaching for a limpet. It was all she could do not to bolt down the entire bowl.
“You are most welcome,” he said, looking at his watch. “It’s nearly five a.m. You must be very tired. I have rooms prepared for you and I hope you will find them comfortable. Before you retire, I wonder if I might ask you one more question…one that is very much puzzling me. Why did the invaders allow you to live?”
“We were wondering the same thing,” Serafina said, helping herself to a piece of cheese.
“Were?” the duca said. “Did something happen to give you answers?”
Serafina and Neela traded uncertain glances.
“Please. You must tell me. Anything and everything. No matter how minor it may seem.”
“It wasn’t minor. Not to Traho,” Serafina said.
The duca sat forward, suddenly alert. “What was it?”
“The Iele,” Serafina said.
The duca blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“The Iele,” Neela repeated. “As in: scary river witches.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with them. The stuff of myth,” he said. “Simple stories our ancestors invented to explain what thunderstorms were, or comets. Traho obviously isn’t interested in make-believe witches. The word must be code for something, though it hasn’t come up in any intelligence.”
Serafina hesitated, then said, “It’s not code. We had a dream, Neela and I. A nightmare, actually. It was the same, though neither of us knew the other had had it until we were in Traho’s camp. The Iele were in the dream. They were chanting to us. And Traho knew about it. He knew the exact words to the chant. He wanted more information and thought we had it.”
The duca nodded knowingly.
“You are so not believing us,” Neela said.
“I believe that in times of duress, the brain—human or mer—does what it must to survive. You may think you had the same dream, because your violent and terrifying captor said you did and going along with him saved your lives. His suggestion became your reality. I’ve seen it happen before to Praedatori who’ve been taken.”
“Duca Armando, signorine bisogno di dormire!” Filomena said sharply. She’d bustled back into the room to retrieve her tray.
“Sì, sì,” the duca said to her. He turned to the mermaids. “Filomena is right. Young ladies do need their sleep. You’ve both suffered terribly. You must rest now. We shall talk more tomorrow. I shall call for Anna—she’s the housekeeper for the water quarters of the palazzo—to show you to your rooms.”
“Thank you again, Duca Armando,” Serafina said. “For the meal, for freeing us, and for giving us a place to stay. We’re very grateful to you.”
The duca waved away her thanks. “I shall see you both later in the day. While you’re resting, I’ll send messengers to the leaders of Atlantica, Qin, the Freshwaters—and to your father, Princess Neela, who rules Matali now in the absence of the emperor and crown prince—advising them of Kolfinn’s treachery. I know they’ll come to your aid. Sleep well, my children. Know that you are safe. The doors through which you entered have been locked and barred. The Praedatori are here to guard you. Your ordeal is over. Nothing can harm you here.”
“THIS WAY, PLEASE, Your Graces,” Anna said, smiling.