“Funny how soul-stealing fiends tend to stick together,” Ling observed.
“Two months is tight to move a large number of troops, but I think we can do it,” Sera said.
“How many have you got?” Astrid asked.
“One hundred thousand,” Sera replied.
Astrid whistled. “I don’t know what Orfeo has, if anything,” she said. “But I bet it’s not a hundred thousand.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “Someone’s coming. I’ve got to go!”
“Be careful, Astrid!” Becca said.
“I will,” Astrid said. Then she looked directly at Sera. “I can do this. Have faith in me.”
“I know you can,” Sera replied.
And then Astrid was gone.
“Wow,” Neela said.
“We’re closer than we’ve ever been to uniting all six talismans, and defeating Abbadon,” said Sera.
“Or getting ourselves slaughtered,” Ling pointed out.
“Sitting here worrying won’t get one hundred thousand soldiers ready,” Becca said. “Getting to bed so we can wake up at first light and get busy, will.”
“True,” agreed Sera.
The five friends rose. Becca, Neela, and Ling already had rooms in the palace and knew how to get to them. Sera summoned Gianna to take Ava to hers. But before they said their good nights, they turned to each other once more. Astrid had found out where the Carceron was. She’d been training her voice. She might even be able to snatch the last two talismans. That was all good. The five friends sensed that they had a new advantage, and they were excited about it, but a new solemnness had settled over them as well.
“Surviving on the swim, building an army, convincing Alítheia not to eat me, battling my uncle…it all feels like child’s play compared to what’s ahead of us,” Sera said.
Ava nodded gravely. “That’s because it is. Your uncle and Lucia were mortals with flaws and weaknesses that you could use to defeat them. But Orfeo’s immortal. Abbadon, too.”
“The Antarctic waters are going to make the North Sea feel like the Bahamas,” Becca said. “Food will be scarce. Some of the soldiers won’t make it. I wouldn’t be surprised if skavveners follow us the whole way.”
“We need to prepare our troops well, for sure,” Ling said, “but first we need to prepare ourselves. Because the hardest part of this whole thing is about to begin.”
“WELL DONE, CHILD,” Orfeo said, stepping out of the shadows.
He’d hidden himself at the side of the large wardrobe in Astrid’s room, well out of range of the convoca.
Astrid turned to him. “You heard everything?”
“I did.”
“Then you know she has one hundred thousand troops. One hundred thousand. They were supposed to be your troops,” Astrid said anxiously. “They would have been, if Serafina hadn’t beaten her uncle.”
Orfeo flapped a hand. “A minor inconvenience.”
“Minor?”
He smiled. “I’m touched by your concern, but your worry is misplaced. We’ll go to the Southern Sea with an army, too, Astrid—a powerful one. Have no doubt about that. And once I’m inside the Carceron, one hundred million soldiers couldn’t stop me.”
Astrid nodded, unconvinced.
“Practice now, child,” Orfeo advised. “Songcasting should be your only concern. Work on your stilos, your vortexes, your ap? piatr?s. We’ll need them in the Southern Sea, and again when we march on the underworld.”
Astrid promised that she would, and Orfeo bade her good night. Before he left, he kissed her forehead, then took her face in his hands.
“You are all that I hoped you’d be, and so much more,” he said to her. “I’m so proud of you. So proud of your strength, your talent. So proud to call you daughter.”
Astrid smiled. “If I’m strong, if I’m showing talent, it’s only because of you,” she said. “You gave me my magic back, Orfeo. I’ll never forget it.”
Orfeo looked pleased. He kissed her again, then left her room.
Astrid watched him go, then closed the door behind him. She conjured an ap? piatr?, and then a fragor lux, but her heart wasn’t in it and the spells fizzled.
“Betray my friends?” she whispered. “Or betray my blood?”
That was the decision she’d had to make. She hadn’t expected to find herself so torn when she’d left the Karg, but that was before she met Orfeo, before he gave her back her magic—and her pride.
Astrid had made the decision. Some time ago. Now she’d have to carry it out. And live forevermore with the consequences, whatever they might be.
She swam to a tall window and stared out of it, her thoughts, and her heart, as inscrutable as the night-dark waters.
“GOOD EVENING, Your Grace,” said the nurse as Sera swam into Mahdi’s hospital room.
“Has there been any improvement?” Sera asked hopefully, as she did every time she came to visit Mahdi.