Neela had lost her taste for sweets during her time with the Iele. Learning convocas and other difficult spells had absorbed her so completely that she’d forgotten all about bing-bangs, zee-zees, and the like.
Suma, Neela’s amah, swam into the room. The old nursemaid took one look at her and paled. “Great Neria, child, your hair!”
Neela sighed impatiently. She’d survived the violent attack on Cerulea, and had escaped both Traho and Mfeme. She’d crossed treacherous seas to get to the Iele, and had been given the task of destroying Abbadon—and now she had to listen to her mother lose it over a frown line and her amah freak out about her hair.
Suma, hands shaking, pulled a handful of zee-zees from her pocket. She offered one to Neela.
“No, thank you, Suma,” Neela said, a note of irritation in her voice.
She didn’t see her mother clutch the rope of pearls she was wearing, but Suma did. “Child, we must get you out of these awful rags,” the amah said soothingly. “You’ve obviously been through a great ordeal. I shall have refreshments brought, and then you can rest.”
“I don’t want to change my clothes and I don’t want to rest! I need to speak with my mother!” Neela insisted.
“The empress!” a voice shrilled.
Neela turned and saw two ladies-in-waiting rush to her mother. They caught Sananda just as she started to swoon. A third lady hurried to her with a sea fan and waved it over her face.
“Mata-ji!” Neela cried, swimming to her.
Sananda waved her away. “It’s nothing, my darling. I’m fine,” she said, smiling weakly. “I just need to sit down.”
“Come, Princess. Let the empress breathe,” Suma said, putting an arm around Neela. “She is quite overcome. You know how sensitive she is. Bad hair upsets her greatly.”
“But, Suma—”
“Shh, now. Let us go and see to your appearance. The sight of you in a clean sari and some pretty jewels will do her a world of good.”
Neela took a deep breath, willing herself to be patient with her mother and her amah. She was not the same mermaid who’d left Matali several weeks ago. It wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know that yet.
“All right, Suma,” she said. “I’ll scrub and I’ll change my clothes. But I’m not resting. In fact, the moment my father is finished with his council, I want to see him.”
Neela started for her chamber. She was looking straight ahead, so she didn’t see her amah look over her shoulder, catch the empress’s eye, and exchange dire glances.
“A KOOTAGULLA, PRIYā?” Aran asked, offering a platter of many-layered pastries to Neela.
“No, thank you, Pita-ji,” Neela said.
Aran cast a worried glance at his wife. He put down the platter and picked up another one.
“A pompasooma, then?”
“No, I’m not hungry. As I was saying…”
Neela and her parents were having tea. Neela had changed her clothes and restored her hair to its natural shade. Her mother had recovered from her fainting fit. Her father had finished his meeting. Neela had been sent for, and then they’d all met in the dining room of their residential quarters.
Finally, Neela had been able to tell her parents all that had happened to her. As she finished her story, she took a sip of her syrup-like tea and put the cup back on its delicate porcelain saucer. Her pet blowfish, Ooda—happy to see her again—swam in circles around her chair. Neela scratched the little fish’s head, so relieved to be home. After days on the currents, eluding capture, she felt safe and secure in the palace. No harm could come to her here. Her parents would know how to keep her safe. They would know how to keep her friends safe, too. Neela waited now for her father to tell her the best way to find the talismans and do away with Abbadon.
But Aran didn’t tell her how. Instead, he sat back in his chair, his dark eyes huge in his careworn face. Then he looked at his wife, who burst into tears.
“Mata-ji, don’t cry! It’s all right!” Neela said. “I’m here now. I’m fine. Everything’s all right.”
“No, it is not,” Sananda said. “I knew something was wrong the moment I saw you in that dreadful outfit. I told your father so as soon as he returned from his meeting. You’re not yourself. Suma told me you actually kept those awful clothes, that you wouldn’t let her throw them away. And you just passed up a platter of pompasoomas. You never say no to a pompasooma!”
Neela gritted her teeth. She took a sweet and put it on her plate. “Forgive me,” she said, humoring her mother. “But I’m a bit distracted, what with everything that’s happened. Actually, no. I’m not distracted. I’m terrified. Here I am, drinking tea, while Abbadon grows stronger. I need to contact Serafina and find out if she made it back to Cerulea.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Sananda said sharply. She motioned a guard over and sent him to fetch Suma.
“But—” Neela started to say.
“You are not well, my poor daughter. You must rest,” Aran said, a pained expression on his face. “These terrible experiences have undone your mind.”