As Garstig’s words rang out, Totschl?ger’s face, which had been contorted by pain, softened into a peaceful expression.
Garstig looked down at him. “He’s gone,” he said brokenly. “My best friend…he’s gone.”
His voice broke on the last word, and Sera felt as if someone had thrust a knife into her heart. Garstig’s terrible grief brought back all the losses she’d suffered—her parents, Vr?ja, Thalassa, Fossegrim, Duca Armando, so many. She thought of the losses her merfolk had endured, and merfolk throughout all the water realms. All because of Vallerio.
“Henri,” she said, “take Sophia to the infirmary.”
“No, Sera, I don’t need to go,” Sophia protested. “I want to stay. I want to help.”
“Later, Soph. After the medics stitch up your head.” She kissed her friend’s cheek. “You saved a great many lives tonight, and our weapons. Thank you.”
As Henri led Sophia away, Ling rushed by. Sera called her over.
“The others?” Sera asked.
“All alive.”
“Thank the gods,” Sera said. “I need you to gather them and get them to HQ.”
“Now, Sera? We have wounded to attend to and bodies to bury.”
“I know, but this can’t wait.”
As Sera swam toward the headquarters cave, past crying children and injured parents, anger swelled inside her like a deadly rogue wave. She was the rightful ruler of Miromara, and yet her vicious uncle was always the one in charge. He pushed her all around the board. All she could ever do was try to stay one stroke ahead of him.
Until now.
Vallerio had made a mistake tonight, with this cowardly attack. He had handed her a move.
And she was going to take it.
SERA’S INNER CIRCLE STRAGGLED into the cave one by one. They were in shock and hollowed out by fighting, by seeing their fellow Black Fins wounded or killed. Yazeed had taken an arrow wound to the tail. Des had a cut across his forehead. Neela had a nasty bruise spreading across her cheek.
Sera looked at them and her heart hurt for all they’d been through, and for all that they had yet to face. She was about to make a critical move, and once she did, there’d be no turning back.
She waited until they were all seated, then—without any preliminaries—she spoke.
“Vallerio’s been using his spy to his advantage. Tonight is yet another example of this. The spy told him where Sophia and Totschl?ger would be and when. I’ve had enough. It’s my turn now. I’m going to use his spy to my advantage.”
“How?” Ling asked.
“I’ve decided that we’re going to the Southern Sea first, to kill Abbadon. Des, I respect your position, but I agree with Yazeed’s reasoning. Without the monster, Orfeo can be bested. Without Orfeo, Vallerio can be bested.” Sera paused to let her words sink in, then continued. “So what I want is for all of you to tell the entire camp that we’re going to attack Cerulea. Tell everyone that I was so enraged by my uncle’s ambush, I immediately vowed revenge.”
“Wait, Cerulea?” Becca said, confused. “Didn’t you just say that we’re heading to the Southern Sea?”
“Becs, dude…it’s a fake-out move!” Yazeed crowed.
Sera nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Desiderio steepled his fingers. He rested his chin on them and stared at his sister. Sera had gone against his counsel. Would he still support her decision?
“Our uncle’s no fool. What makes you think he’ll buy it?” he said at length.
“Because he thinks I’m a fool,” Sera replied. “And this is just the sort of hotheaded move a fool would make.”
“Can’t fault you on that logic,” Des said.
“When the spy in our midst tells Vallerio that we’re heading for Cerulea,” Sera said, “Vallerio will order his troops out of the Atlantic and the Southern Sea, and back into the city to guard it.”
Ling sat forward in her chair. “Which clears a path straight to Abbadon,” she said excitedly.
“Exactly,” Sera said. “Any questions?”
“Yeah, a big one,” said Desiderio. “Earlier tonight, you told us you couldn’t send troops into battle knowing lives would be lost. Now you’re about to order your fighters to the Southern Sea. A lot of them won’t make it back. Why the sudden change of heart?”
Sera took a deep breath, Des’s question echoing in her mind. There were other questions there, too. So many, and all of them impossible to answer.
Was love enough? Was it stronger than her uncle’s brutality, his lust for power, his hatred? Was it stronger than fear? Stronger than death?
Sera knew she’d never find the answers if she didn’t make her move.
“Because it’s time, Des,” she finally said.
“Time for what?”
“Time to play my uncle’s game like a queen, not a pawn.”