Scores of soldiers rode in and out of the west wing of the palace on hippokamps. They must be using it as their base, she thought. Her eyes followed the riders. She wondered if her own hippokamp, Clio, now belonged to them. And her pet octopus, Sylvestre—had he survived the attack?
Staying in the shadows, she continued up the current until she reached the Ostrokon. Its large, ornate pediment had fallen to the sea floor, and its entrance was filled with debris. She thought about Fossegrim, the elderly liber magus, the keeper of knowledge. He would never have willingly allowed the invaders to enter this place of learning and peace. The death riders had surely killed him.
Sera peered up and down the current, then shot across it. She skimmed over the rubble, darted inside the Ostrokon, and hid behind a pillar, hoping no one had seen her. Much of the first level was still intact. The front desk was undamaged. A pair of eyeglasses still rested upon it, as if its owner had just swum away for a minute. Here and there, broken conchs littered the floor.
Like all ostrokons, Cerulea’s was modeled on the nautilus shell. It had twelve levels, in honor of the twelve full moons of the year and their importance to the seas. While the nautilus’s chambers were sealed off from one another, those of the Ostrokon opened off a tall central hallway, and it was this hallway Serafina swam down now. She knew where she needed to go—to Level Six, where the collection of conchs on early Merrovingian history were kept.
The water became inky as she descended, so she grabbed a lava torch off a wall. The spiraling hallway, usually so familiar to her, felt eerie now. Doorways loomed at the left and right like giant, gaping mouths. Schools of thick-lipped blennies and bright orange wrasses—usually shooed out by the ostroki—swam silently through them.
As she rounded the bend to the fifth level, a movement startled her. She whipped out her dagger.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
There was no answer.
“I’m not afraid to use this!” she shouted.
A low growl rose. Serafina slowly raised her torch, holding it—and her knife—out in front of her. She saw sleek gray bodies flash by, black eyes, sharp teeth. It was a pack of dogfish. She didn’t know what they were doing in here. Or why they were so aggressive. And then the stench told her. She lowered her torch to illuminate the floor and saw the dead merman they’d been eating.
“Easy, pups,” she said with a shiver, moving on. “I’m not here to steal your dinner.”
Finally she arrived at Level Six. She hurried inside and swam to the shelves where the conchs on Merrow’s Progress were stored. When she reached them, she held up her torch, ready to grab a conch and start listening.
But she couldn’t, because there weren’t any. The shelves were bare.
Where were they? Could Traho have taken them? But how had he come up with the idea to search for clues to the whereabouts of the talismans in the conchs on Merrow’s Progress? He didn’t know the truth about Atlantis. Vr?ja hadn’t shown him Merrow’s bloodsong. How could it be that he was always one stroke ahead of her?
Serafina was crushed. Everything depended on those conchs. She had come all this way only to find herself back at square one.
A group of sea bass swam by, heading for an unlit corner of the room. Sera knew that they were nocturnal feeders. If they were seeking darker waters, it meant that dawn was coming. It was time for her to find the safe house, while she still could. With a heavy heart, she swam back to the first level and returned the lava torch to its bracket on the wall. She was just about to swim out of the Ostrokon when light played over the rubble in front of the building. Voices shouted orders.
Oh, no! she thought. Death riders. It’s a patrol!
Her hands went to her bag, where she’d put the transparensea pebbles from Vr?ja, but it was too late. There was no way to cast them without being heard. She quickly crouched down behind a broken stone pillar. Her hiding place wasn’t great. If the soldiers searched the entry thoroughly, she was done for. A group of six passed by and swept into the first level. Sera heard their voices and saw their lava lanterns bobbing around inside. After a few minutes, they came back out.
“All clear?” a voice shouted. It belonged to an officer. He was inside the entry. Serafina hadn’t seen him. She prayed that he hadn’t seen her, either.
“First level’s clear, sir!” one of the searchers shouted back. “Should we sweep the sublevels?”
The officer, closer now, told him not to bother. “I doubt the rebels are down there studying. Move out,” he ordered. His voice sounded familiar to Serafina. It was muffled by the column, but still, she was certain she’d heard it before.
Slowly, carefully, Sera moved her head to the left, trying to identify the speaker.
“We’ll head to the fabra next,” he announced as he followed his mermen outside. She could see his back now. He was wearing the same black uniform as the others.
“Sir!” one of his soldiers said. “Sergeant Attamino is outside. He just arrived. His patrol just found two rebels hiding near the South Gate.”