“I’ll catch up,” she said.
She couldn’t leave Mahdi, not yet. It had been so long since she’d seen him, and during that time not a second had gone by that she didn’t think about him, long for him, and talk to him—if only in her head. Were a few short minutes with him so much to ask for?
“Sera, it’s too dangerous. You can’t—” Yazeed started to say.
Desiderio cut him off. “Come on, Yaz.”
Yazeed shook his head, clearly unhappy. “We’ll meet you just past the north gate. Don’t. Get. Caught.”
As soon as they were gone, Mahdi cupped Sera’s cheek. She curled her fingers around his wrist.
“I barely recognize you,” he said, his eyes traveling over her face. “Who is this fierce warrior in front of me? What happened to the merl with the long hair, and the gowns, and the conch glued to her ear?” His voice was teasing, but the pain in his eyes was real, and raw.
Sera knew that pain well. It mirrored her own.
“Where’s the merboy I once met who only wanted to play Gorgons and Galleons with my brother?” she asked. “The one who didn’t talk much. Who definitely didn’t want anything to do with the principessa his parents picked out for him. Do you think we’ll ever find those mer again?”
Mahdi shook his head. “We’ll find better versions of ourselves, Sera. Better than what we were, better than what we are.”
He gathered her into his arms then and held her close. Sera squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back her tears.
“Mērē dila, mērī ātmā,” he whispered, his cheek against hers. It was Matalin mer for My heart, my soul. “I’ll be with you soon, Sera, I promise. Until then, be careful. Please.”
“Swear to me that you’ll be careful. Swear it,” Sera said fiercely.
She had a terrible, unshakable feeling that something would go wrong, that she’d never hold him close or look into his beautiful eyes again. She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply.
It was Mahdi who broke the kiss. “You’ve got to leave,” he said, his voice gentle but urgent. He touched his forehead to hers. “Good-bye, Sera. Never doubt that I love you,” he said, and then he let her go.
Sera cast a transparensea pearl. “I love you, too, Mahdi. Always.”
And then she was gone. Out of the window, out of the palace, heading for the north gate.
Desiderio and Yazeed were waiting for her there. Sera issued a series of dolphinlike clicks, and they clicked back. Then the three fighters swam fast, heading for open water.
None of them spoke until they’d left Scaghaufen far behind, then Des said, “I know you’re hurting, and I’m sorry. But it’ll be okay, Sera. Mahdi’s smart. He’s strong. He’ll survive.”
Sera thought about the long swim ahead of them, and the fact that Guldemar had given them nothing. She thought about the spy who was still in their midst, and the weapons and troops they lacked. She thought about the long, cold swim to the Southern Sea.
Then she laughed wearily and said, “Yeah, Des. But will we?”
“WE’RE USING SCRAP METAL salvaged from wrecks to reinforce the supply wagons,” Becca explained to Sera, pointing to a pile of twisted steel. “The goblins heat it, then nail it to the sides of the wagons. The tough part is getting the metal hot enough to bend. Our songcasters are having trouble getting their waterfire to burn high enough,” Becca said.
Sera frowned at this. “No luck finding a lava seam yet?” she asked.
Becca shook her head. “No, but I’m still on it. I won’t give up. Come on, the actual building site’s this way,” she said, motioning to Sera to follow her.
The two mermaids were in the westernmost part of the camp, where wagons that would transport the Black Fins’ supplies during their swim to the Southern Sea were being built. Two burly goblins walked a short distance behind them. Ever since Mahdi had told Sera, Des, and Yaz that Portia’s spy was also an assassin, Des had insisted that bodyguards accompany Sera everywhere.
Sera had come to the edge of the camp to see how the work was proceeding, but there was another reason she was out here: she needed to get Becca alone.
Sera had noticed tension between Becca and Ling back at headquarters, and she’d asked Ling about it. Ling had admitted that things were strained between them. “We had a bit of a blowup,” she’d said.
As Sera listened to Ling’s explanation, her concern had deepened to worry. The Becca in Ling’s account, so defensive and touchy, didn’t sound like Becca at all.
“Something’s wrong. Really wrong,” she’d said to Ling.
“I know. Becca’s hurting. It scares me. And not just for her sake,” Ling had said. “Sera, what if…what if she—”
Ling didn’t have to finish her sentence; Sera took her meaning. “No way, Ling. I don’t believe it.”