Neela swam the entire perimeter of the prison, seeing misery everywhere she looked. Barracks stood at the far side of the prison. They were little more than sheds. Behind them, two guards stood close to the sea whip fence, talking. She could hear what they were saying.
“We’ve dug up every damn inch of the mud in this gods-forsaken hellhole. Traho says these are the old breeding grounds, and it might be here, but I say different.”
“We have orders to move the whole prison five leagues north if we’ve found nothing by Moonday,” the second guard said.
“The farther we get from the dragon caves, the better. We’re only three leagues east of them now,” he said, hooking his thumb to his right. “It’s sheer bloody luck they haven’t discovered us yet.”
“Traho came yesterday. Did you see him?”
The first guard shook his head.
“He wasn’t happy. He wants the moonstone and he wants it now,” the second guard said. “He says the prisoners need to work harder. Smaller rations. Harsher punishments and—”
The guard stopped talking and looked up. A huge shadow passed overhead. “It’s him,” the guard said. “Mfeme. With more prisoners.”
“We better get moving,” said the second guard. “We’ll be needed to help herd them in.”
Neela followed their gaze. For a moment, she saw nothing but the silhouetted hull of an enormous ship. As she kept watching, though, she saw things dropping down through the water. They looked like big black squares. As they got closer, Neela saw that they were cages filled with merpeople.
The jellyfish floating over the prison parted, and the cages landed roughly on the seafloor inside it. Guards opened the cage doors, shouting at the prisoners, hitting them with crops, driving them to a central assembly area. As the guards herded the prisoners, they tore any remaining personal effects off of them—beaded armbands, head wraps, belts—and tossed them through the sea whips’ tentacles. An armband landed near Neela. She picked it up when the guards’ backs were turned and put it in her pocket. The prisoners, gaunt and sick-looking, were frightened. Once they’d all been crowded together, they were told they were here to dig for a valuable object, a large moonstone, and that whoever found it would be set free. They were all given shovels—old and young, strong and weak. A man protested that his wife was too ill to dig. He was promptly beaten.
Neela reeled back from the fence, sickened, and saw that her tail was shimmering. The transparensea pebbles were not as strong as transparensea pearls. The spell was wearing off. She swam back behind the rock where Ooda was waiting and sat down on the ground to collect herself.
“Sera was wrong, Ooda,” she said, her voice shaking. “Mfeme has the people from the raided villages on his ship, yes, but he’s not taking them to Ondalina. He’s taking them to prison camps. To dig for the talismans. I’ve got to send messages to the others, but we have to get out of here first, before we end up inside the prison, too. Or inside a dragon.”
Neela leaned back against the rock and closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to do and there was no one here to tell her. No Sera. No Ling. No subassistants with their forms. No grand vizier. No Suma to make everything better with a cup of tea and a plate of bing-bangs. She would have to figure it out herself. But how?
She opened her eyes, then opened her bag, and did what she always did when she was angry or scared—she hunted for a sweet.
There has to be one in here, she thought desperately. Her craving was terrible. She pushed aside makeup, her hairbrush, a little sack of currensea…and then she spotted a shiny green wrapper.
“A zee-zee! Oh, thank gods!” she said.
It was a bit squashed from being at the bottom of her bag, but it was still a zee-zee. Sweets made it all better. Sweets always made it better. She unwrapped the shiny candy with shaking hands and popped it into her mouth, waiting for it to make her feel calmer, happier…but it was so cloying, it made her feel sick instead.
She spat it out.
As she did, she heard a voice speaking from inside her head. Here, just for you. A kanjaywoohoo, it said. Swallow it, darling. Just like you swallow all your fears and frustrations. They leave such a bitter taste, don’t they?
It was Rorrim’s voice. He was right. That’s what she’d always done—swallowed her fears, with the help of a little candy to sweeten them.
She looked at the prison again, and the people in it, and realized that there was no better. Not from a bing-bang. If she wanted things to be better, she would have to make them so.
She got up, brushed the silt off her backside, and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Thanks to the sea-scum guards, we know which direction to swim in, at least,” she said to Ooda, remembering how one of them had hooked his thumb to his right. “If we’re lucky, we’ll make Nzuri Bonde by morning.”
“HI-YAAAAAH!”
The cry—high and terrifying—carried piercingly through the water.