Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)

Becca raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then why did you say ‘Oh, no’?”


“Because it’s also not easy. If you and Marco are serious about each other, you’re both going to face some pretty rough waters.” Sera put an arm around her. “But you don’t have to face them alone. You have me and the others. We’ll help you figure it out. That’s what friends are for.”

“Really?” Becca asked. The look on her face was heartbreakingly vulnerable.

“Really,” Sera replied. “Talk to them. You’ll see.”

Becca nodded tentatively. Sera could tell she was still worried. “I hope they understand, Sera. Compared to me, everyone else has normal relationships.”

Sera laughed. “Right. Especially me. I’m the queen of normal relationships. The merman I love is about to marry someone else. We have to pretend to hate each other. And his future wife is trying to kill me. Totally normal.”

Becca burst out laughing. For the first time since she’d arrived in the camp, the worry lines that constantly creased her forehead disappeared.

“Hey, Serafina, Becca…want some snask?” Garstig shouted. “You better hurry up if you do, before Mulmig scarfs it all.” He waved them over. The goblins made space for them around the lava.

“Come on,” Sera said, “let’s join them. I’m developing quite a taste for goblin treats.”

As Sera and Becca sat down, plans for building a forge and melting down shipwreck hulls were being eagerly discussed. The bag of snask was passed around, and Sera helped herself to a piece. She heard Vr?ja’s voice in her head, and in her heart. Help Becca see that the warmest fire is the one that’s shared, the river witch had said.

As Sera watched Becca gamely pop a pickled eyeball into her mouth, she silently thanked Vr?ja, then she watched the warmth of friendship work its own magic.





MANON LAVEAU’S black eyes glittered. From within the roots of the giant cypress where she was hiding, in the waters off Robichaux’s Swamp, she could spy the death riders’ camp. At its edge was a cage with iron bars. In that cage was a mermaid, lying motionless, her face turned away.

“I see two guards,” Manon said quietly. “Louis, Antoine, you take the one in the front. Rene, Gervais, you’ve got the back. Quick and quiet now, and don’t swallow the keys. You hear me?”

Four enormous bull alligators nodded in unison; then, with thrusts of their powerful tails, they swam off.

As Manon watched them go, a shiver ran through her. She pulled her shawl up around her neck. “I hope those boys listened. Gods help us if they make a racket.”

“The gods help those who help themselves,” Esmé said primly, waving away silt that the alligators had raised.

Manon snorted. “Says who? The gods, that’s who. I do all the work, and they take all the credit. Laziest bunch of good-for-nothings I ever came across.”

“This’ll never work,” said Jean Lafitte, wringing his hands. “The guards will shout for help. We’ll be caught and thrown in a cage ourselves. And then they’ll hang us from the gallows.”

Manon rolled her eyes. “What do you care if you hang? You’re a ghost!”

“Why’d we come here? This is such a bad idea!” Lafitte fretted.

“You want to leave that poor mermaid to the tender mercies of Captain Traho?” Manon asked.

“Yes, I do. Absolutely,” said Lafitte.

“Shh!” Sally scolded. “They’re almost at the cage.”

Manon and the three ghosts watched as the alligators moved into place. Louis crawled up to the guard in front and growled. The guard, who’d been dozing, jerked awake. His eyes grew as round as moon jellies.

“Holy silt! Vincenzo, there’s a giant gator here!” he whisper-shouted. “How the—”

“There’s one here, too!” the other guard whispered back, as Rene advanced. “Don’t make it mad. Just reach for your speargun…nice and slow, then—”

But before the guards even got their hands on their holsters, Antoine and Gervais struck. Two headless bodies sank to the swamp floor. As the alligators proceeded to feast, Manon moved in. The ghosts trailed her.

“Be careful, Manon! Those gators are feeding! Don’t get in between them!” Lafitte cautioned.

Manon paid him no heed. She tugged one body away from the alligators, then the other, turning them over in the water, searching for the keys to the mermaid’s cage. But they were nowhere to be found.

“How did I miss them?” she whispered.

“Maybe they fell on the ground,” Sally ventured.

Manon flipped her tail fins over the swamp floor, clearing away the silt, but she still didn’t find the keys.

Lafitte bit his nails. “This is taking too long! You haven’t even opened the cage yet. What if someone comes?”

Then one of the alligators burped. It sounded like thunder.

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