“Home,” Sera lied.
Rorrim narrowed his eyes. He licked his lips. “Surely you don’t have to leave so soon?” He was behind Serafina before she even realized he’d moved. She gasped as she felt a liquid chill run up her spine.
“Still so strong!” he said unhappily.
“Get your hands off me!” Sera cried, swimming away from him.
But he caught up to her. “Why were you calling my silverfish? Where are you really going?” he asked her.
“I told you, home,” she said.
Sera knew she had to hide her fears from him. He would use them to keep her here forever, like a vitrina. But it was too late; she suddenly felt a sharp pain.
“Ah! There it is!” Rorrim whispered, his breath cold upon her neck. “Little principessa, you think you’re so clever and brave, but you’re not. I know it. And so did your mother. You disappointed her time and time again. You let her down. And then you left her to die.”
“No!” Serafina cried.
Rorrim’s quick fingers probed her backbone cruelly, searching for her deepest fears. “But wait, there’s more! Just look at what you’ve been up to!” He fell silent for a moment, then said, “My word, what a task Vr?ja’s given you. And you honestly think you can do it? You? What will she do when you fail? I imagine she’ll find someone else. Someone better. Just like Mahdi did.”
His venomous words struck at Serafina’s heart like a stingray’s barb. Mahdi, the crown prince of Matali, a merman she’d loved, had betrayed her for another and the wound was still raw. She looked down at the floor, paralyzed by pain. She forgot why she was here. And where she was going. Her will was ebbing away. A suffocating grayness descended on her like a sea fog.
With a purr of pleasure, Rorrim plucked a small, dark thing hiding between two vertebrae. The dankling screeched and flailed as he popped it into his mouth.
“So delicious!” he said, swallowing. “I shouldn’t have any more, but I can’t help myself.” He ate another, and then said, “You’ll never defeat Traho. He’ll find you sooner or later.”
The brightness in Serafina’s eyes dimmed. Her head dipped. Rorrim plucked more danklings, cramming them into his mouth with the heel of his hand.
“Mmm! Divine!” he said, gulping them down. A rumbling burp escaped him.
The rude noise broke through Serafina’s lethargy. For a few seconds, the gray lifted and her mind was clear again. He’s taking me apart. I can’t let him, she thought desperately. But how can I fight him? He’s so strong….
With great effort, she lifted her head—and gasped. Rorrim had doubled in size. His belly was hanging down to his knees. His face was grotesquely bloated. A grimace twisted his mouth.
He’s eaten so much he’s in pain, she thought.
She heard another voice then—Vr?ja’s. It sounded in her memory, loud and clear. Instead of shunning your fear, you must let it speak, the witch had told her.
Serafina would. She would let it shout.
“You’re right, Rorrim,” she said. “What Vr?ja’s asked of me is impossible.”
She was throwing her heart open to a monster. If she failed, he would devour it.
Rorrim snatched another dankling and chewed it. He burped again, wincing. His belly touched the ground now. “Perhaps a slight pause between courses would be wise,” he said. “A moment, please….”
Sera didn’t give him one.
“I’m afraid I won’t find my uncle. Or my brother,” she said, all in a rush. “I’m afraid of the death riders. I’m afraid for Neela, Ling, Ava, and Becca. I’m afraid Astrid’s telling me the truth. I’m afraid she isn’t. I’m afraid of Traho. I’m afraid of the man with no eyes….”
Rorrim was grabbing fistfuls of danklings now. His arms were so fat, he could barely bring his hands to his mouth, yet he couldn’t stop eating. His greed overwhelmed him.
“Do you know what else I’m afraid of?”
“Oh, gods, stop. Please!” Rorrim begged. He took a step back, lost his balance, and toppled over. He tried to get up, but couldn’t. His legs and arms kicked wildly, like a flipped-over turtle’s. He was helpless.
Serafina bent over him. She was shouting now. “I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind if I see any more suffering! I’m afraid more Ceruleans will be killed! I’m afraid of villages being raided! I’m afraid Traho will hurt Vr?ja! I’m afraid Blu is dead! I’m afraid for the merfolk trapped on Rafe Mfeme’s ship!”
Rorrim closed his eyes. He whimpered and Serafina stopped yelling. She straightened, surprised to find that the gray fog had disappeared. She had bested Rorrim. Her fear had become an ally instead of an enemy.
Smiling, she opened her hand. The beetles were still inside it. “Silverfish! Come!” she shouted, as loudly as she could.
But no silverfish appeared. Serafina realized what she was doing wrong.
She shouted again.