Sera put a hand on Neela’s shoulder. “I know what you’re feeling, but we need to go with her. She’s one of us, Neels,” she said.
Her words struck a chill into Neela. One of us. Part of her still wanted to believe that none of this was real. Part of her still hoped that someone—her uncle Bilaal, her father, or one of the praedatori—would ride in on a big white hippokamp and tell her that it was all over, that Traho had been captured and everything was okay and she didn’t have to face a dangerous journey, a bunch of freaky witches in a dark cave, and worst of all, that thing in the waterfire. Meeting Ling made that a lot harder.
“Neela?”
“Okay. Yeah. Let’s go,” Neela said, her voice trembling a little.
“Wait, Ling! We’re coming with you,” Serafina called out.
In her head, Neela heard the Iele’s chant. She heard the gray-haired witch calling.
“One down, three to go, Baba Vr?ja,” she whispered.
She and Serafina hurried to catch up.
“I’D KILL FOR A BING-BANG RIGHT NOW.”
“When would you not kill for a bing-bang, Neels?” Serafina asked.
The mermaids were swimming across a sandy shoal. It was early evening. They’d left Radneva two days ago and had been on the move ever since, stopping only to sleep at night. They’d sang velo spells to speed them along at first, but stopped when they realized that velos, difficult enough to cast in salt water, required even more magic in freshwater. Using back currents, they’d worked their way north, up the coast of Bulgaria toward Romania and the mouth of the Dun?rea.
“A chillawonda would be nice, too. Or a zee-zee. Gods, I’d love a zee-zee. I’d like a cup of sargassa tea, too. Clean clothes. Pretty hair combs. A massage. A soft bed. And a crisp, blue water apple,” Neela said.
“Here, have some shriveled-up reef olives and stale walrus cheese instead,” Serafina said, handing her the bag of food they’d bought at the Radneva market.
“Olives and cheese again?”
“It’s all we have left. We better hope we hit a village soon.”
“We will. Aquaba’s at the mouth of the Dun?rea,” Ling said. “I’m sure we’re close.”
It had been hard going on the currents, riding them—and sometimes fighting them—to get to where they were now. Neela was tired, dirty, hungry, and longing for home and its comforts. And though they were getting closer to the Dun?rea, they still had leagues to go to reach the Olt.
“Did we go west around that sandbar off Burgas? Or East?” Serafina asked, looking around. She was holding a kelp parchment map in her hand. It belonged to Ling.
“West. Definitely west,” Ling said. “That was the shortcut we took. Remember?”
Ling was a good navigator. She’d led the way out of Radneva to a back current and had found them a roomy cave to hole up in for their first night together. They’d avoided death riders and bounty hunters, and at Ling’s urging, had changed the color of their hair and clothing with illusio spells. The only problem was that an illusio, like any spell, eventually wore off. Maintaining it took effort and energy—energy that was going into the constant swimming they were doing. Ling was always reminding them to recast it. Neela was grateful when night fell and she could revert to her true appearance. She knew that she and Sera would have to come up with more permanent solutions, but that would require another village, where they could buy some clothes.
It felt strange to Neela to be three instead of two, and she wasn’t always comfortable around Ling, as the merl could be blunt. She also had a disconcerting way of abruptly stopping a conversation to listen to a passing shoal of blennies, or interrupting it to say something like, “Have you ever noticed the amazing overlap of sibilant clickatives in Dolpheen and Porpoisha?” Neela never really knew if Ling was listening to her or to a sea creature that happened to be swimming by.
Ling was smart and tough, though, and she’d saved them from being captured. She was also the one who knew the route to the River Olt, so Neela had no choice but to accept her.
The three mermaids had talked as they’d made their way north. Serafina and Neela had shared their backgrounds, and Ling had told them that she was from a large clan, most of whom lived in her village.
“Actually, we are the village,” she’d said with a laugh. “Every house contains a relative of mine.”
“How big is your family?” Neela had asked.
“My extended family? There are over five hundred of us. My immediate family—my mother, sisters, and brothers, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins—we’re fifty-three. Maybe fifty-four by now. One of my aunts…” She paused, listening, then said, “The size of the sea horse lexicon is incredible, don’t you think?”
“Oh, totally,” Neela had replied.
“So, as I was saying, one of my aunts was expecting when I left.”