It was a lie. Serafina was still hungry. But Fossegrim and the others were too. She could tell. They were thin. Their clothing was baggy.
She was sitting with the liber magus in the Ostrokon’s sub-basement. It was nearly ten at night now. The others had gone off on their rounds. Sera had slept for most of a day.
They’d all introduced themselves on Level Four—after Serafina had gotten up off the floor. She already knew Fossegrim and Coco. Then came Niccolo, the young merman with the glasses. The others were Calvino, Domenico, Alessandra, and Sophia.
A handful of ostroki and a child. That was the resistance.
“Cerulea is very lucky to have you fighting for her,” Serafina had said, smiling.
Cerulea is totally doomed, she’d thought.
But that was before they’d taken her through a trapdoor in the floor of the basement. There she’d discovered a clean, warm, fairly large chamber that contained cots, a small lava stove, medical supplies, and a stockpile of food. The walls were covered with maps of the city.
“The war room,” Fossegrim had said proudly. “From here, we’ve managed to cut lava lines to the palace, release a lava flow that destroyed the kitchens, and let crabs loose in the food stores.”
“How did you know to do all these things? Did the acqua guerrieri help you?” Serafina had asked, amazed. She regretted underestimating them. These ostroki were as formidable as the Praedatori.
“Conchs!” Coco had piped.
“We listened to field marshals from the Hundred Years War, Qin’s Yǒnggǎn Dynasty generals, guerilla fighters from Atlantica’s swamps, and a lot of early Merrovingian commanders. There’s nothing Quintus Ligarius can’t teach you about sabotage!” Niccolo had said cheerfully.
“We’re a large and sharp sea thorn in Traho’s side,” said Fossegrim now as he put the uneaten snails and worms away. “We shall rout him and return Cerulea to the Merrovingia!”
“Magistro, I’m afraid that the battle is much bigger than Cerulea,” Serafina said gently. “I know a way to fight it. But I need your help.”
“Anything, Principessa,” he said. “Say the word.”
“I came here last night to listen to conchs on Merrow’s Progress, but they were gone.”
“Yes, Traho took them. I don’t know why.”
“I do, but I can’t tell you without putting you at even more risk. Are there any other conchs here on the same topic?”
“On what topic?” Coco asked.
She had just returned from her rounds carrying a sack full of sea cucumbers. A gray sand shark, small and quick with sparkling copper eyes, followed her.
“Where did you get those? I told you not leave the Ostrokon, young lady! It’s far too dangerous!” Fossegrim scolded.
Coco ignored him. “What information are you looking for, Principessa?” she asked.
“Conchs on Merrow’s Progress,” Serafina replied, to be polite. She doubted very much that the merl had even heard of the Progress. Sera had studied post-fall Atlantean history extensively and she knew that ten years after Atlantis was destroyed, Merrow, Miromara’s first regina, had made a long journey through the waters of the world. The official story was that she was seeking safe new places for her people to live, as they were thriving and needed space. Sera was certain, however, that there was an unofficial reason for the trip—to hide the six talismans.
“Try Baltazaar, first minister of finance from the start of Merrow’s reign to the year 62,” Coco said matter-of-factly. “He’s a great source, but hardly anyone knows about him. I think it’s because his conchs aren’t shelved on Five in Early Merrovingian History. They’re on Three, with Governmental Records. In the expenditures section for 10 anno Merrow, the year Merrow made her Progress.”
Serafina’s jaw dropped. “What?” she said.
“Bal-ta-zaar,” Coco slowly repeated, as if speaking to an idiot. “First minister—”
“Yes, I heard you. How do you know that?”
“I’ve listened to lots of conchs since I came here. We can’t go out during the daytime, and there’s not much else to do. I like listening to conchs. I like the Ostrokon, too. A lot better than I liked the court. Sorry.”
Serafina smiled. “Don’t be. I do, too,” she said.
“So as I was saying,” Coco continued. “Baltazaar was, like, Merrow’s accountant. He went on the Progress and conched everything. It took me two days to get through just five of those conchs. He is so boring. He talked about everything they packed. Everything they used. Everything they wore. Everything they said. Everything they did. Everything they saw. Everywhere they stopped—”
“Everywhere they stopped?” Serafina cut in.
“Yes.”
“Can you show me where those conchs are?” Serafina asked, trying to hide her excitement.
“Sure,” Coco said. “Come on.”
“One moment, please,” said Fossegrim. “The death riders sweep the Ostrokon regularly. Coco, you must act as lookout while the principessa studies the conchs. We can take no chances. You’re both to be back here by midnight.”