“I’m getting nothing from him now,” Ava said quietly. “Not even a whisper.”
“It’s so weird,” Sera said, peering into the murk beyond the bars. “I expected an insane monster roaring at us. I expected Orfeo, soldiers, battles, an ambush from Lucia….I never expected nothing.”
“Maybe Orfeo’s trying to throw us off our guard.”
“Well, he won’t,” Sera said resolutely. “We have sentries patrolling the camp’s perimeter. He’s not getting close without us knowing.”
“Let’s hope not,” Ava said wearily.
“Get some rest. Alítheia will take you to your tent,” Sera said. Her heart hurt for her despondent friend. She longed for the boisterous, colorful Ava that she knew.
Alítheia gently offered Ava one of her legs to hold. Ava took it, and the two started back to the center of camp. But after they’d gone a few yards, Ava stopped and turned around.
“Vr?ja said the Six Who Ruled were strongest when they were together. She said we would be, too. Maybe you’re right, Sera. Maybe the gods just haven’t answered yet. Maybe they will when Astrid comes. When the talismans are reunited. When we are.”
Ava was trying to hang on to a shred of hope. They all were.
“Maybe so, Aves,” Sera said softly.
And then Ava and Alítheia disappeared into the gloom.
Sera turned back to the Carceron. She looked down at the scorched place where the Iele’s waterfire used to burn, and she remembered how scared she’d been when Vr?ja summoned her. Now she’d give anything to have the river witch near. Sera had talked to Kora and Lena about Abbadon. She’d talked to the trolls and the whales. No one had been able to tell her what she needed to know—how to kill it.
She heard Ava’s voice in her head. Maybe the gods just haven’t answered yet.
And then she heard something else—low, gurgling laughter. It was coming from deep inside the Carceron.
A shiver ran through her. Buttoning the collar of her sealskin coat around her neck, she headed back to her tent.
The cold stalked her as she swam, making her teeth chatter.
Tomorrow, she would double the amount of soldiers sent out to hunt. There wasn’t much here, but maybe they could find the tiny translucent fish that darted along the seafloor, some mud worms, and the shrimplike amphipods. If they got enough of them, the camp’s cooks could make a hot stew to warm the troops.
Finding another lava seam would help, too. She would order work crews to search for one first thing in the morning.
Sera was determined to fight the cold at every turn.
For now, it was the only enemy she could fight.
SOMETHING WAS WRONG. Sera knew it before she opened her eyes.
Before the camp’s alarm sounded.
Before the shouts and commands rang out.
Before Becca, breathless, came racing into her tent.
“Sera, come quick. We’ve got trouble.”
Dawn was just breaking. Sera had fallen asleep sitting in a chair. She was up and out of it immediately. “What is it?” she asked tersely.
“Cadavru. At least, that’s what Vr?ja called them.”
“Rotters? Becs, a few dead goggs stumbling around are no reason to sound the alarm.”
“There’s an entire army of them, Sera. They’ve surrounded the camp.”
Fear clutched at Sera. “Who’s leading them?”
“No one, as far as we can tell. They’re not advancing. They’re just standing there.”
“And Abbadon?”
“He suddenly woke up,” Becca said grimly. “He’s making noise. A lot of noise.”
Sera quickly put her armor on, grabbed her crossbow, and followed Becca out of the tent. She swam up high in the water, then turned in a slow circle. Becca had not exaggerated. There were tens of thousands of rotters. They outnumbered her own troops. Some were skeletons, their bones stripped clean by scavengers. Others were in various stages of decay, flesh hanging off them like tattered clothing. All were armed with spears or swords. They stood perfectly still, as if waiting for orders.
“Where are the other commanders?” Sera asked.
“At the Carceron,” Becca replied.
Sera sped toward the prison. Becca followed. They found Ling, Ava, Neela, Yazeed, and Garstig near the gate. Noise was emanating from within the prison—roars, laughter, shrieks.
“Abby’s waking up,” Yazeed said.
“Yaz, how did the rotters get here?” Sera asked. “Why didn’t we see them coming?”
“They started circling just before dawn. They must’ve been close last night, but knew enough to stay out of the range of our scouts. We never saw them in the darkness.”
“And I couldn’t feel them,” Ava said. “I still can’t. There’s nothing there to feel—no heart, no soul.”
“Whoever sent them knew that,” Ling said. “I’m sure of it.”
Sera’s fear grew. She fought it down. “We know who sent them. There’s only one mage powerful enough to reanimate so many dead things. Orfeo’s here,” she said. “He’s come for his monster.”
“Why hasn’t he shown himself?” Ling asked.