As Becca watched, she thought of how impossible this was—getting the Black Fins in and out of ships, getting them to Cerulea. And yet, it was happening.
So many things were impossible, until they weren’t.
As the nets dipped back into the hold and soldiers surged toward them, Becca hung back. There was something she had to do before she left this ship. Something that scared her even more than the battle that lay ahead.
“Marco!” she called out. “Marco, it’s me…Becca!”
He looked around, trying to hear her over the noise of the troops and the winches, trying to spot her in the mass of soldiers.
With difficulty, she swam against the tide of bodies.
“I didn’t know you were aboard this ship!” he said as she reached him.
He put his walkie-talkie down on the catwalk and jumped into the water. As she surfaced, Opie leapt onto his arm.
“Hey, looking sharp, Opie!” he said. “Nice sweater.”
The little octopus flushed pink with pleasure.
“Marco, listen,” Becca said. “I don’t know if I’m coming back—”
“Don’t say that, Becca.”
“I have to. And I have to tell you something: I love you, too. I have ever since I first saw you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”
And then Becca took his face in her hands and kissed him.
Opie looked from Becca to Marco and back again, wide-eyed. She flushed bright red.
This wasn’t their first kiss, but it might be their last, Becca knew. And she wanted Marco to remember—this kiss, this moment, her. Because if an arrow found her tonight, the last thing she would see would be his kind, beautiful face.
A loud noise overhead made Becca break the kiss. “I have to go,” she said, looking up. The winches were swinging back again. “It’s time to join the others.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Opie’s head. “You stay here now,” she said. “Where you’re safe.”
Opie turned blue, but she didn’t protest.
As Becca was about to swim away, Marco grabbed her hand. “Make sure you come back, Becca,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Because I want a shot.”
“At what?”
“At the impossible.”
THE MOON was almost fully risen.
Mahdi could see its light, pale and silvery, shining into the windows of Neria’s temple.
He was waiting by the altar, dressed in his green sea-silk wedding jacket. He no longer had Lucia’s cursed iron necklace around his neck, as she’d unlocked it earlier.
Portia and Vallerio were seated at a distance from Mahdi, in the front row with their relatives, allies, and members of their court. Mahdi’s so-called friends—some high-ranking death riders and court lackeys—filled the other pews.
“Nervous?” Traho whispered, patting Mahdi on the back.
Mahdi smiled. “Very,” he admitted. It was no lie. He was, but not because he was getting married.
He’d asked Traho to be his best man, to ensure his attendance, to get him in the same room with Vallerio so that he could assassinate them both. This was his mission, the one he’d given himself the day he learned Sera was dead. Soon, it would be accomplished.
Months ago, he’d taken the precaution of hiding a small silver speargun in the chimney of the lavaplace in his rooms. That gun was now loaded and holstered inside his jacket. There was a moment in the mer wedding ceremony, after the bride and groom had sung their vows, when their fathers approached to kiss them and congratulate them, followed by their mothers doing the same. Mahdi’s father wouldn’t be here, since Vallerio had murdered him, but Vallerio certainly would be. As he came close, Mahdi would unbutton his jacket and reach for his gun.
He knew he wouldn’t have much time and might not be able to fire more than one shot, so he would aim for Vallerio first; then he’d try to get Traho. Soon thereafter he himself would be killed. There were armed guards in the temple, at least thirty of them.
With Vallerio and Traho gone, Orfeo’s reach would be weakened. That might give Sera’s friends enough of an advantage to triumph in the Southern Sea. He hoped so. It was the only thing he had left to hope for.
He wasn’t afraid of death. It was only his body that would die. His heart and soul were already gone. They’d died the moment Lucia handed him Sera’s ring.
The opening notes of the wedding processional sounded. Court songcasters, mermaids and mermen blessed with the best voices in the realm, flanked the altar. Their song rose in the water.
Suspended in the vast night sky,
Glows a moon so full and high.
Tonight, with sun and earth aligned,
Her magic will two royal hearts bind.
Rise now, cherished wedding guests,
As the moon moves east to west,
Offer blessings, prayers, and heartfelt songs,
For lasting love, both true and strong.