Becca knew, as did everyone else on the mission, that Vallerio kept vicious Blackclaw dragons in the ruins of Merrow’s reggia. Sera had encountered them, with Sophia, when they were fleeing death riders after the raid on the treasury vaults.
“Our first wave blows the munitions storage inside the palace,” Yaz continued. “Second wave tries to take out the dragons. Third surrounds the barracks….”
Becca tuned the rest out. She knew the plan by heart. She’d thought up most of it.
She decided to inspect her armor again, making sure the buckles and clasps were secure. A small orange creature sat on one shoulder of her breastplate, looking like a colorful epaulet.
Opie had taken a liking to Becca and had refused to let go of her when she left Marco’s palazzo. The tiny octopus had howled and turned colors and shot so many jets of water at Marco when he’d tried to pry her off Becca’s wrist that he’d finally given up. Opie had traveled back to the Karg with Becca, but being a Pacific Ocean creature, she’d found the waters of the North Sea very cold. Becca had asked one of the Miromaran refugees, a craftswoman from Cerulea, to knit the little octopus a sea-flax sweater. The only sea flax that grew in the waters of the Kargjord, however, was bright purple. Opie made quite a sight in her eight-sleeved sweater, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she loved the sweater so much she refused to take it off, even when they reached warmer waters.
As Becca examined her armor, her thoughts drifted back to the Iele. She remembered Vr?ja telling her that she was the descendent of the mage Pyrrha, and that the brave Altantean had been a smith, hard at work at her forge on the edge of the island, when she’d seen a fleet of enemy ships approaching. Thinking fast, Pyrrha had dispatched a messenger to the capital, telling them that an attack was imminent. Then she converted the farm tools she’d forged into weapons, armed the people in her small village, and ambushed the invaders.
Becca had followed Pyrrha’s example. The moment she’d returned from Marco’s palazzo, she’d set about teaching the goblin forgeworkers how to heat pearls and insert invisibility spells into them, and then they’d worked around the clock in shifts to make enough transparensea pearls for every single soldier on the mission.
“You’ll never get them done in time,” Yazeed had said. “We need thousands of them, Becca. Tens of thousands. It’s an impossible job.”
“Probably,” Becca said, but she got to work anyway and eventually she’d succeeded. Working side by side with the goblins, she’d done the impossible. Now, in mere minutes, they would cast those pearls, swim down into Cerulea, and battle Vallerio.
A door suddenly opened overhead, about two feet above the waterline. Marco stepped out and appeared on the catwalk that was anchored to the wall of the hold. Becca could see him, but he couldn’t see her. Hers was just one more face in the sea of soldiers.
Her heart filled with love at the sight of him. Her eyes lingered over every plane and angle of his handsome face. She knew this might be the last time she saw it. She’d had so little time with him in Venice. As soon as he’d said he would get the ships, she’d returned to the Kargjord. As much as she’d wanted to stay with him, she’d known that every minute she lingered was another minute Sera spent as Vallerio’s captive.
“Listen up, everyone!” he shouted now, holding his hands up. “I’ve just heard from the other ships. They’re in position and waiting for the go-ahead. Des, what do you say?”
Desiderio nodded at Marco. After they’d returned to camp from the Darktide Shallows, Des had assembled the troops to tell them that Sera had been kidnapped. The fighters had rallied around him, swearing that Vallerio would pay. They’d been only too eager to get on board the transport ships and rescue their leader, and they were ready for what lay ahead.
Des swam to the ship’s wall, leapt out of the water, and grabbed on to the bottom of the catwalk. Hanging on with one hand, muscles rippling in his arm, he addressed his troops. “Fellow Black Fins!” he shouted. “It’s time! Time to take back Serafina, take back Miromara, take back all the waters of the world! We fight for our homes, and our families, and we fight for those who can’t fight—those who are held prisoner, who’ve been taken from their homes and their families by the sea scum Vallerio! Are you with me?”
A deafening cheer rose. Desiderio looked up at Marco. “Give the others the signal,” he said. “And, Marco…thank you.”
Marco nodded. “Good luck.”
As Desiderio dropped back into the water, Marco spoke into his walkie-talkie. A few seconds later, three sets of giant doors opened all along the top of the hold. Becca could see the sky through them, and the full moon glowing, so bright and beautiful. Will I ever see it again? she wondered. Will any of us?
Nets were lowered down into the hold by huge winches. Mer grabbed them and clung on as they were lifted again, then lowered into the ocean.