She sang of the friendship between Miromara and Matali and conjured dazzling images of the emperor and empress, praising them for their just and enlightened rule. Then, though it pained her deeply, she showed herself and Mahdi, floating together in ceremonial robes, as they would be shortly to exchange their betrothal vows, and expressed her hope that they would rule both realms as wisely as their parents had, putting the happiness and well-being of their people above all else.
The images faded and fell, like the embers of fireworks in a night sky. Serafina remained still as they did, her chest rising and falling, and then she finished her songspell as she had begun it—with no images, no effects, just her voice asking the gods to ensure that the friendship between the two waters endured forever. Finally, she bent her head, as a sign of respect to all assembled, to the memory of Merrow, and to the sea itself—the endless, eternal deep blue.
It was so quiet as Serafina bowed that one could’ve heard a barnacle cough.
Too quiet, she thought, her heart sinking. Oh, no. They hated it!
She lifted her head, and as she did, a great, roiling sound rose. A joyous noise. Her people were cheering her, even more loudly than they had after the blooding. They’d abandoned all decorum and were tossing up their hats and helmets. Serafina looked for her mother. Isabella was applauding too. She was smiling. Her eyes were shining. There was no disappointment on her face, only pride.
She remembered her mother’s words to her uncle in the presence chamber. Serafina won’t let Miromara down….
As the mer continued to cheer for her, Serafina’s heart felt so full she thought it would burst. She felt as if she could float along, buoyed up by the love of her people, forever.
She would remember that moment for a long time, that golden, shining, moment. The moment before everything changed.
Before the arrow, sleek and black, came hurtling through the water and lodged in her mother’s chest.
SERAFINA WAS FROZEN IN PLACE.
Her mother’s chest was heaving; the arrow was moving with every breath she took. It had shattered her breastplate and pierced her left side. Isabella touched her fingers to the wound. They came away crimson. The sight of blood—on her mother’s hand, dripping down her skirt—broke Serafina’s trance.
“Mom!” she screamed, lurching toward her, but it was too late. Janiçari had already encircled her. They were shielding Serafina from harm, but also preventing her from getting to her mother. “Let me go!” she cried, trying to fight her way through them.
She heard the shouts of merpeople, felt bodies thrashing in the water. The spectators were in a frenzy of fear—swimming into one another, pushing and shoving. Children, separated from their parents, were screaming in terror. A little girl was knocked down. A boy was battered by a lashing tail.
Unable to break through the Janiçari, Serafina pressed her face between two of them and glimpsed her mother. Isabella was still staring down at the arrow in her side. The Janiçari were trying to surround her as they had Serafina, but she angrily ordered them to leave her and go to the Matalis. With a swift, merciless motion, she pulled the arrow out of her body and threw it down. Blood pulsed from her wound, but there was no fear on her face—only a terrible fury.
“Coward!” she shouted, her fierce voice rising above the cries of the crowd. “Show yourself!”
She swam above the royal enclosure, whirling in a circle, her eyes searching the Kolisseo for the sniper. “Come out, bottom-feeder! Finish your work! Here is my heart!” she cried, pounding her chest.
Serafina was frantic, expecting another arrow to come for her mother at any second.
“I am Isabella, ruler of Miromara! And I will never be frightened by sea scum who strike from the shadows!”
“Isabella, take cover!” someone shouted. Serafina knew that voice; it was her father’s. She spotted him. He was looking straight up. “No!” he shouted.
He shot out of the royal enclosure, a coppery blur. A split second later, he was swimming up over the amphitheater—between his wife and the merman in black above her who was holding a loaded crossbow.
The assassin, barely visible in the darker waters, fired. The arrow buried itself in Bastiaan’s chest. He was dead by the time his body hit the seafloor.
Serafina felt as if someone had just reached inside her and tore out her heart. “Dad!” she screamed. She clawed at the Janiçari, trying to get to her father, but they held her fast.
More Janiçari, led by Vallerio, surrounded Isabella. The Mehterabaşi had ordered another group to the royal enclosure, where they’d encircled the Matalis and the court.
“Bakmak! Bakmak!” the Mehterabaşi shouted. Look up!
Out of the night waters descended more mermen in black, hundreds of them, riding hippokamps and carrying crossbows. They fired on the royal enclosure and on the people. Janiçari raced through the water to fight them off, but they were no match for their crossbows.
“To the palace!” Vallerio shouted. “Get everyone inside! Go!”
Two guards took Serafina by her arms and swam her out of the Kolisseo at breakneck speed. Two more swam above them, shielding her. In only seconds, they were back inside the city walls and safely under the thicket of Devil’s Tail. They continued on to the palace. When they reached the Regina’s Courtyard, the guards broke formation and hurried her inside.
Conte Orsino, the minister of defense, was waiting for her. “This way, Principessa. Hurry,” he said. “Your mother’s been taken to her stateroom. Your uncle wants you there too. It’s the centermost room of the palace and the most defensible.”
“Sera!” a voice cried out. It was Neela. She’d just swum inside the palace. She was upset and glowing a deep, dark blue.
Sera threw her arms around her and buried her face in her shoulder. “Oh, Neela,” she said, her voice breaking. “My father…he’s dead! My mother…”
“I’m sorry, Principessa, but we must go. It’s not safe here,” Orsino said.
Neela took Serafina’s hand. Orsino led the way.
As they swam, Serafina realized Neela was alone. “Where’s Yazeed?” she asked.
Neela shook her head. “I don’t know. He and Mahdi…they swam away. I’m not sure where they are.”
They swam away? Sera thought, stunned. While her mother, bleeding and in pain, was daring her attacker to come forward? And her father was sacrificing his life?
“Bilaal and Ahadi? Are they safe?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen them,” Neela said. “Everything happened so fast.”
The wide coral hallways of the palace, the long, narrow tunnels between floors—they had never seemed so endless to Serafina. She swam through them quickly as she could, dodging dazed and wounded courtiers. As she neared the stateroom, she heard screams coming from it.
“Mom!” she cried. Pushing her way savagely through the crowd, she streaked to the far end of the hall. A horrible sight greeted her there. Isabella lay on the floor by her throne, thrashing her tail wildly. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and red froth flecked her lips. She didn’t recognize Vallerio, or her ladies, and was clawing at her doctor as he tried to stanch her bleeding. Serafina knelt by her mother, but her uncle pulled her away.
“You can’t help her. Stay back. Let the doctor do his work,” he said.
“Uncle Vallerio, what’s wrong?” Serafina cried. “What’s happening to her?”
Vallerio shook his head. “The arrow—”
“But she pulled it out! I don’t understand…”
“It’s too late, Sera,” Vallerio said. “The arrow was poisoned.”
SERAFINA WAS CRAZED WITH FEAR.
“No!” she shouted at her uncle. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong!”
Vallerio’s tone softened. “Sera, the doctor’s certain it’s brillbane. He recognizes the symptoms. It only comes from one source—an arctic sculpin.”
“An arctic sculpin,” Serafina repeated woodenly. “That means—”
“—t
hat Admiral Kolfinn has attacked us. The soldiers are wearing black uniforms—the color of Ondalina. They’re Kolfinn’s troops, I’m sure of it. This means war.”
Serafina pushed him away, skirted around the doctor, who was pressing a fresh dressing over Isabella’s wound, and sat down on the floor by her mother. She shrugged out of the costly mantle she was still wearing, balled it up, and put it under her mother’s head.
“Mom? Mom! Can you hear me?” she said, taking her hand. It was covered in blood.
Isabella stopped writhing. It was as if Serafina’s voice was a lifeline. She opened her eyes. Their gaze was far away. “Your songspell was so beautiful, Sera,” she said. “I didn’t get to tell you that.”
“Shh, Mom, don’t talk,” Serafina said, but Isabella ignored her.
“Everyone looks so beautiful. The room does, too, with all the anemones in bloom and the chandeliers blazing and your father and brother, don’t they look handsome?”
Serafina realized that her mother thought the Dokimí celebrations were taking place. The poison was affecting her mind.
“Why are you here, Sera? Why aren’t you dancing with Mahdi?” Isabella asked, agitated. “Why don’t I hear any music?”
“The musicians are taking a break, Mom,” Sera fibbed, in an effort to soothe her. “They’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“He loves you.”
Wow. She’s totally out of her mind, Serafina thought.
“I glanced at him once or twice. In the Kolisseo. You should have seen his face while you were songcasting. I’m happy for you, Sera, and for Miromara. The bond between our realms will be even stronger if true love unites them.” She grimaced suddenly. “My side…something’s wrong.”
“Lie still, Mom,” said Serafina. “You have to rest now. How about we trade places for tonight? I’ll be regina, you be principessa. And my first act as monarch is to order you to bed. You are to put your fins up, listen to gossip conchs, and eat plenty of kanjaywoohoos.”
Isabella tried to smile. “Neela brought them?”
“And chillawondas, bing-bangs, janteeshaptas, and zee-zees. My chambers look like a Matali sweet shop.”
Isabella laughed, but her laughter brought on a terrible fit of coughing. Blood sprayed from her lips. She moaned piteously. Her eyes closed.
“Help her! Please!” Serafina whispered to the doctor.
But the doctor shook his head. “There’s very little I can do,” he said quietly.
After a few seconds, Isabella opened her eyes again. Their gaze was not far away now, but focused and sharp. She squeezed Serafina’s hand. “You are still so young, my darling. I haven’t prepared you well enough. There’s so much you still need to learn.” There was an urgency to her voice.
“Mom, stop talking. You need to be still,” Serafina said.
“No…no time,” Isabella said, her chest hitching. “Listen to me…remember what I tell you. Conte Bartolomeo is the wisest of my ministers. Vallerio will be regent, of course, until you’re eighteen, and Bartolomeo’s the only one strong enough to put your uncle in his place.” Isabella paused to catch her breath, then said, “Conte Orsino, I trust with my life. Keep a close eye on the Volnero and the di Remora. They are loyal now, but may work to undermine you if they sense an advantage elsewhere.”
“Mom, stop!” Serafina said fearfully. “You’re scaring me. I was only joking about being regina!”
“Sera, listen to me!” Isabella’s voice was fading. Serafina had to lean close to hear her. “If we are not able to fend off the attackers, you must get to the vaults. And then, if you can, go to Tsarno. To the fortress there—” She coughed again. Serafina wiped the blood from her lips with the hem of her gown.
Vallerio joined them. The doctor looked at him. “Send for the canta magus,” he said.
Serafina knew what that meant. The canta magus was summoned when a regina was dying, to sing the ancient chants that released a mer soul back to the sea. “No!” she cried. “She’s going to be all right! Make her be all right!”
“Your Grace,” the doctor said, his eyes still on Vallerio, “you must send for the canta magus now.”
Vallerio started to speak, but Serafina didn’t hear his words. They were drowned out by a deafening roar, a sound so big, it felt like the end of the world. The very foundations of the palace shook, sending shock waves up into the water. Serafina was knocked backward. For a few seconds, she couldn’t right herself; then, slowly, her balance came back. She looked up, still dazed, just in time to see a large chunk of the stateroom’s east wall come crashing down. Courtiers screamed as they rushed to get out of the way. Some didn’t make it and were crushed by falling stones. Others were engulfed by flames ignited by lava pouring from broken heating pipes buried inside the walls.
Janiçari swam to the breach in formation, armed and moving fast. “Ejderha! Ejderha!” they shouted.
No, Serafina thought. It’s impossible.
Grasping the side of her mother’s throne, she pulled herself up.
And then she saw it.
Ejderha.
And she screamed.
A MASSIVE BLACKCLAW DRAGON, her head as big as an orca, stuck her face into the gaping hole she’d made in the wall. She reached an arm through, swiping at Janiçari with foot-long talons.
The soldiers attacked the beast, but their swords and their spells were useless against the thick scales covering her body, her bronze faceplate, and the stiff frill of spikes around her neck. Mermen wearing black uniforms and goggles sat on her back in an armored howdah, controlling her with a bridle and reins.
The dragon bashed her head against the palace wall and another large chunk of it fell in.
“Stop her! Stop her!” voices screamed.
But there was no stopping her. The stateroom was deep inside the palace. The dragon had already knocked through heavy outer walls to get here. An inner wall would be nothing to her. She would be inside the room in seconds.
“Get the regina to the vaults!” Serafina heard her uncle shout. “The princesses, too! Do it now!”
She knew he meant the treasury vaults underneath the palace, where the realm’s gold was kept. The hallway that led to them was too narrow for a dragon, and the bronze doors enclosing them were a foot thick and heavily enchanted. Food and medical supplies had been stored within them in case of a siege.
Two Janiçari converged on Neela. Five more rushed to Isabella and tried to lift her. She screamed in pain and struggled against them.
“Mom, stop it. Please. You have to let them take you. You’ll be safe there,” Sera said.
Isabella shook her head. “Lift me onto my throne,” she commanded her guard. “I will not die on the floor.”
Serafina’s heart lurched at her mother’s words. “You’re not dying. We just have to get you to the vaults. We just have to—”
Isabella took Serafina’s face in her bloodied hands. “I’m staying here to face my attackers. You will go to the vaults, Sera. You are regina now, and you must not be taken. Live, my precious child. For me. For Miromara.” She kissed Serafina’s forehead then released her.
“No!” Serafina shrilled. “I won’t go without you. I—”
She was cut off by a rumbling crash as the dragon knocked more of the wall down. The creature pulled her head out of the hole she’d made, and dozens of soldiers, all clad in black, swam inside. Their leader pointed toward the throne.
“There they are! Seize them!” he ordered.
Arrows came through the water. Many of the Janiçari surrounding the princesses and the regina fell.
“Go! Now!” Isabella shouted.
“I can’t leave you!” Serafina sobbed.
Isabella’s tortured eyes sought Neela’s. “Please…” she said.
Neela nodded. She grabbed Serafina’s hand and yanked her away.
Isabella spotted a dagger next to the corpse of a fallen Janiçari. She conjured a vortex in the water, and sent the knife hurtling at the invaders’ leader
. The dagger hit home, knocking him to the floor. His men came to his aid, but he pushed them away. “Get them!” he gurgled, drowning in his own blood. “Take the princesses to Traho!”
But Sera and Neela were already gone.
NEELA HAD NEVER swum so fast. She was a blur in the water, moving like a marlin, her hand gripping Serafina’s like a vise. But the mermen who’d chased them out of the stateroom were gaining on them.
Serafina, in shock, was deadweight. She was slowing Neela down.
“Come on, Sera, snap out of it!” Neela yelled. “I need you to swim!”
They moved through a hallway that twisted and turned. As they rounded a bend, Neela could see that it ended in a T.
“Which way to the vaults?” she shouted.
“To the right!” Serafina shouted back, rallying.
They turned the corner. Ahead of them, in front of the doors to the vaults, were at least thirty enemy soldiers.
Neela wheeled around and headed for the other end of the T, pulling Serafina after her. As they shot past the mouth of the hallway they’d just swum down, she saw the soldiers who’d chased them from the stateroom.
“There they are!” one of them yelled.
Neela sang a velo spell.
Waters blue,
Hear me cast,
Rise behind us,
Make us fast!
The water in the hall rose like a breaker, swiftly pushing the mermaids ahead of it. They’d outpaced their pursuers for the moment but still had to find a room where they could barricade themselves. Neela didn’t live here, and she didn’t know where to go. They were in another hallway now, one filled with portraits of Miromaran nobles. Neela recognized it. Suddenly, she knew where they were.
“Sera, we can make it to my room!”
Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) Page 8
