Alítheia nodded. “Many, many sssouls.”
“So Merrow discovered that Orfeo could catch souls,” Sera reasoned. “I bet she suspected that he’d learned how to catch his own. That’s why she made her weird decrees. By stating that only a daughter of a daughter could rule Miromara, she made sure Orfeo could never rule if he somehow came back as himself. And if he figured out a way to take a female form and pretend to be the heiress to the throne, you would still find him out, Alítheia. You’d taste his blood at the Dokimí and declare him an imposter.”
The spider nodded.
Sera was silent for a bit, digesting the enormity of her discovery. She was elated by it, and defeated by it. She’d learned what Abbadon was made of, but at the same time, she’d learned that she had no hope of killing it. How could anyone kill that which is immortal?
Unless the gods themselves had revealed how.
Clinging on to a last shred of hope, she said, “Alítheia, did Bellogrim say anything to Merrow about Abbadon? Did Neria? Did they tell her how to get rid of the monster?”
Alítheia shook her head. “They did not know how. The magic wasss Morssssa’s sssecret. And Orfeo’sss. But even if they had, it wasss too late. Merrow wasss too old, too weak.”
Sera was bitterly disappointed. Her hope of finding out how to kill Abbadon had just been dashed. The spider was still gazing down the tunnel again, but abruptly turned away from it. “Alítheia will not go down the tunnel. Ssshe will not hunt moon jelliesss there.”
“You won’t?” Sera asked, breaking into a smile. At least her plan to save herself and Fossegrim had worked. She’d won the spider over. Alítheia wouldn’t harm them now.
“No,” Alítheia said, turning her black eyes to Sera. A drop of venom fell from one fang. “All thisss talking hasss made Alítheia hungry. Ssshe will eat now. Ssshe will eat you, mermaid, plump or not.”
THE HOLD OF THE SUPER trawler was filled with salt water—and with two thousand armed mer and goblins. Becca, floating among them, checked and rechecked her crossbow. It helped to calm her nerves.
Marco had come through for the Black Fins. Somehow, he’d persuaded practically everyone he knew who owned a boat—friends, fishermen, fellow wave warriors—to loan it to him. Tankers, trawlers, and fishing boats, they’d all met in the waters above the Kargjord five days ago, loaded their mer and goblin cargo, then headed south for the Mediterranean.
Secrecy spells had been cast to ensure that the human captains and crew never spoke of the mission—or sounded completely insane if they tried to, and velo spells had sped the vessels on their way.
The entire Black Fin force was assembling over Cerulea now, all hidden in gogg ships. It was nighttime, later than the Black Fins had wished, but foul weather in the North Atlantic had put them behind schedule. Tonight’s skies were clear, and a full moon had risen. Anyone who was looking up through the water would see the ships’ silhouettes. Becca and the other fighters hoped that Cerulea’s security forces were too busy patrolling the city to notice the sudden increase in ship traffic.
At least they didn’t have to worry about Mahdi. They’d sent a message conch to him telling him what had happened to Sera. They didn’t know if they’d been successful, though; he hadn’t sent word back. But even if the conch hadn’t reached him, they knew he was safe. He would have cast his transparensea pearl earlier in the day, and by now would have left Cerulea far behind. The Black Fins had sent two soldiers to Mahdi’s first safe house to fill him in on everything that had happened. They would tell him to stay at the safe house instead of swimming to Gibraltar, and wait with him there until there was word from Cerulea. Desiderio would send for him if the Black Fins managed to take the city, and if not…at least he would have escaped alive.
Becca and the Black Fins with her were now waiting for the signal that the rest of their troops were in position.
Though it was crowded and hot in the trawler’s hold, it was also eerily quiet. The atmosphere was tense. They all knew they might be seeing the soldier next to them for the very last time. There was no telling who’d make it back and who wouldn’t.
Becca heard Desiderio, Yazeed, and Garstig talking in low voices nearby, going over the plan as they had a thousand times already.
“We have to come out swinging. We need a quick, decisive victory,” Yazeed said.
“So, five thousand of us will hit the palace,” Des said.
“Is it enough?” Garstig worried.
“It should be. Don’t forget that we have surprise on our side,” Des said.
“I hope so,” Garstig said. “Because Vallerio has Blackclaws on his.”