Ling’s voice took on a worried tone. I can’t get through to her, Sera. No matter how many times I cast a convoca, she doesn’t answer. Have you heard from her?
“No, but then again, I haven’t tried to contact her. I haven’t cast a convoca since I failed back in the sea cave. I’ll try when I leave the Ostrokon. You can’t cast in here. The acoustics make songspells fall flat. Fossegrim, our liber magus, wanted it that way. He always said knowledge is its own magic.”
Serafina’s stomach growled again.
You sound like a sick walrus! Look, maybe you can’t overthrow Traho at this particular point in time, but you can get up and find something to eat, so we don’t have to listen to any more disgusting noises.
“How? I’m in an ostrokon!”
Doesn’t it have a TideSide? The ones in Qin do.
“Yes, it does! A little one on Level Four. I totally forgot! Ling, you’re a genius!”
Of course…am…careful, Sera….
“I’m losing you, Ling.”
…hear you…later….
“Yeah, merl. Later,” Sera said as the convoca faded.
Now that Ling was gone, the room seemed twice as large and twice as dark and Sera felt more alone than ever. Sighing, she swam out from under the table.
TideSides were small freestanding snack bars that sold drinks and finger foods. Serafina had visited the one in the Ostrokon whenever she’d stayed late to study, her royal guards trailing discreetly behind her. She swam to one of the listening room’s walls and took a lava torch down. The lava needed to be replaced. It was cooling, giving off only a dull orange light, but it still allowed her to see where she was going. She poked her head out of the doorway and cautiously looked up the spiraling hallway. It was empty and sad. There were no students in it now, no black-robed professors, no ostroki carrying baskets with conchs in them, shushing everyone.
Moving slowly, Serafina made her way up the hall. She paused now and again to listen for voices. She was almost at the fourth level when she felt vibrations in the water. She stuffed the lava globe under her skirt, dousing its light, and ducked into an empty doorway. A few seconds later, a small school of blennies swam by. Her shoulders sagged with relief.
The TideSide was tucked between the geology and biology collections. When Sera reached it, she saw that it was dark and deserted, like the rest of the Ostrokon. She swam to the counter, hoping for a bag of mussel chips or some snail gums, but there was nothing to be had. Not even a salted sandworm.
“Great,” she said out loud. Now she would have to risk a trip outside. She tried to recall if there were any cafés nearby. If so, maybe she could break into one and find some beach plums. Clam puffs. Anything.
That’s when the net went over her head.
Serafina screamed. She dropped her torch. Its globe smashed on the floor. Lava oozed over the stone, hissing and bubbling and sending up steam through the water.
“Let me go!” she shouted, as the net enveloped her. She struggled and tried to swim away, but only succeeded in tangling herself so badly that she could hardly move.
A face, pale and bespectacled, came close to hers. It belonged to a young merman. “She’s one of us, Magistro, not a death rider,” he said. “I think. At least, she hasn’t got a uniform on.”
Serafina recognized him as an ostroko who used to work in the literature section. Another face came into view—an older merman’s. He wore glasses too. His long hair and beard were gray. His broad, magnificent fins were black. He was pointing a spear. At her.
“Magistro Fossegrim?’ she cried. “It’s me, Serafina!”
A third face peered down at her. A child’s. She looked to be about twelve. Serafina had seen her before. If she could only gather her wits, she might remember where.
“It is her, Magistro!” the young mermaid said. “She’s cut her hair off!”
“Good gods! What have we done? Release her!” Fossegrim ordered.
The net was removed. Serafina, who’d sunk to the floor, looked up at her would-be captors—Fossegrim, the young merman, two other mermen, two grown mermaids, and the young one.
“Cosima!” she said, the child’s name finally coming back to her. “Lady Elettra’s little sister. I remember you from the court.”
“Coco, Your Grace,” the merl said, with a quick dip of her head. “I hate Cosima.”
“Coco, Fossegrim, what are you doing here?” Serafina asked.
“This is our headquarters, Your Grace. I’m sorry about the rude welcome. We were only trying to defend it,” Fossegrim replied.
“I don’t understand,” Serafina said. “Whose headquarters?”
Fossegrim pulled himself up to his full height, swept a hand toward his companions, and grandly said, “The Black Fin resistance.”
“PLEASE, PRINCIPESSA, take more snails. Have more worms,” Fossegrim said.
“Thank you, Magistro, they were delicious, but I’m full.”