Waterfire Saga, Book Three: Dark Tide: A Deep Blue Novel

by Jennifer Donnelly

“I ran afoul of them, too. Big-time. And I ended up in the same camp. Dad got me out. He gave this to me and told me to bring it to you.”

  Zhu’s hand trembled as she gingerly picked up the ring.

  “He says he wants you to keep it safe until he gets home. Then you can put it on his hand again, just as you did on the day of your Promising.”

  Fresh tears welled in her mother’s eyes. She shook her head, overcome.

  “This all started with the dreams I was having. About the river witches. Do you remember when I told you about them? You thought they were just nightmares.”

  Zhu nodded slowly.

  “Grandma Wen told me that the Iele were summoning me and I needed to go. I found out that things are really bad, Mom. These prison camps, they’re horrible places, but they’re only the beginning. There’s a great evil threatening us. The river witches have called on me—and five others—to fight it.”

  Zhu pulled on Ling’s arm, as if to hold her back.

  “There’s a reason I was called, Mom. I can’t tell you any more, because I want to keep you and the family safe. The death riders will come searching for me. If they do, no one can know I was here. They can’t find out about Dad, either. Hide his wedding ring in case the death riders search the house. I’ve got to go now.”

  Zhu shook her head vehemently and started to get out of bed.

  Ling held her back and hugged her again. “The longer I stay, the more dangerous it is—for me, you, everyone.”

  Zhu wiped her eyes and coughed.

  At least, Ling thought it was a cough. But no, it was a word, spoken in a voice raspy from disuse.

  “Ling,” her mother said.

  Ling was overwhelmed by the sound. She longed to stay and talk with her forever.

  “I…I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, Mom. You don’t need to apologize. I understand now,” Ling said. “Just don’t give up on us, okay?”

  “I love you,” her mother croaked. “Please…be careful.”

  “I love you, too, Mom. I’ll be back. And Dad will, too. One day, we’ll all be together again.”

  Ling kissed her mother’s cheek. Then, before she could change her mind, she went to the kitchen, grabbed her backpack, and swam out of her house, wishing she could believe her own words.

  “ARE YOU SURE you have enough food?” Elisabetta asked Becca.

  Becca looked at her over the top of her eyeglasses. “Are you serious? You’ve packed so much for me, I can barely carry it. And if I run out, which I won’t, I have currensea.”

  The Marlin was bobbing in the gray waters of the North Sea. It had been three days since Becca, Marco, and Elisabetta had evaded Mfeme’s boats.

  “We’re five leagues west of the camp,” Elisabetta said. “We don’t dare drop you any closer. The Meerteufel subscribe to the shoot-first-ask-questions-later school of defense,” she added wryly. “Approach the camp from the seafloor, and you won’t spook them. You have transparensea pearls in case of death riders, and—”

  Becca threw her arms around Elisabetta, cutting her off. “Stop worrying, El. I’ll be fine. I’m almost there,” she said, hugging her tightly.

  Elisabetta hugged her back, then held her by the shoulders. “Be careful,” she said.

  “I will. Thank you, El. I’d be chum if it wasn’t for you and Marco. And who knows what would’ve become of the talisman. I owe you everything.”

  “No, Becca, we owe you everything,” said Elisabetta. “You and your friends. Stop them—Vallerio, Traho, Mfeme. Stop them before it’s too late.”

  Marco came belowdecks. He handed Elisabetta a pair of binoculars. “An oil tanker and two shipping vessels. That’s all. No sign of Mfeme’s goons.”

  “Good. The sooner we get out of here, the better,” Elisabetta said.

  She glanced at her brother as she took the binoculars from him. She could see, as Becca could, that his mouth was smiling, but his eyes were not.

  “I’ll…uh, say my final good-bye now, Becca. Because I…um…I need to check…the engine,” Elisabetta said awkwardly. She gave Becca a final wave, then climbed up the ladder.

  “That was strange,” Becca said as she watched her go.

  Marco looked at the floor. “No, not really,” he said. “She knows.”

  “Knows what?” Becca asked.

  He raised his eyes to hers. “That I have feelings for you.”

  Becca caught her breath. She thought she’d only imagined Marco’s interest in her. She’d put her feelings for him aside. It was so much safer that way. Falling for a terragogg was never part of the plan.

  “I kind of lied the other day,” Marco continued, all in a rush. “When you asked me what I was going to tell you before Mfeme’s men chased us. I lost my nerve, I guess. What I wanted to say was that I…I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Becca.”

  “Marco, you know I’m a mermaid, right?”

  He smiled. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “And you’re a human. And no matter what we feel—”

  “So you feel the same way?” he asked hopefully.

  Becca didn’t answer the question. She finished her sentence. “It’s impossible.”

  “Everything’s impossible, Becca,” Marco said, taking her hand. “Getting the talismans is impossible. Defeating Abbadon is impossible. Stopping finners and super trawlers and polluters is impossible. Our feelings are impossible—”

  “Marco, I—”

  “What? You don’t have feelings for me? Just tell me so and I’ll shut up.”

  Becca averted her eyes and didn’t say a word.

  “A lot of things in this world are impossible until someone makes them possible,” Marco finished softly.

  Becca couldn’t speak. Her practical head was warring with her rebel heart.

  “We’re very stupid, Marco,” she finally said.

  He winced. “Love is never stupid, Becca.”

  “Then I must be.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Marco said, clearly wounded by her words.

  “I didn’t mean to be harsh. But this hurts,” Becca said. “As wonderful as the last days have been, I almost wish they’d never happened, because it’s so hard to let go of them now. And of you.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “How can I not? I’m leaving, Marco. I’m joining my friends to take on death riders, dictators, and a homicidal monster. The odds aren’t in my favor, you know? Chances are, I’m not coming back.”

  Becca’s meaning lay heavily in the air between them.

  Marco fell silent. Becca did, too. She didn’t know what else to say.

  Becca was an expert at making things work. As an orphan, she’d had to be. She’d had to make lousy foster homes work. Meager meals. Secondhand clothing. But no matter how many times she turned her feelings for Marco over in her head, looking at them from different angles, trying to make them work, she couldn’t.

  “Marco, I—I’ve got to go,” she said, picking up her traveling case.

  Marco nodded. “I’ll see you again someday,” he said. “In another place. A better one…I—I love you, Becca.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t say that. Not now. It’s not fair!”

  “No, it’s not,” Marco agreed. “But it’s true.”

  Becca hit the button that allowed her to enter the water lock. The hatch opened. She glanced back once before leaving.

  “Good-bye, Marco,” she said.

  And then she was gone. She buttoned her jacket up around her neck as she descended, unused to the cold after spending a week in the saltwater tank.

  Marco’s words rang in her ears…I love you, Becca.

  She hadn’t responded, because there’d been no point. It was over before it had even started. It was time to be practical, just as she’d always been. It was time to listen to her head.

  But as she swam away, deeper and deeper into the sea, she stopped and looked back. She could just make out the tapered hull of the Marlin, silhouetted on the sur
face of the water. She thought she saw something else, too—on the starboard bow. A shadow. Marco’s shadow.

  Becca’s heart clenched, and she confessed to the sea what she could not say to him.

  “I love you, too, Marco. I wish to the gods I didn’t.”

  SERA HELD UP her crossbow and took aim.

  The conger eel was magnificent. She guessed it was about seven feet long and weighed close to two hundred pounds. She didn’t want to shoot it, but she had no choice. The goblins were watching.

  She prayed to the gods for a clean kill, then let her arrow fly. The eel never knew what hit it. It died instantly, sinking slowly to the mud.

  Sera wanted to cry. Instead, she turned around to face the goblins, smiling triumphantly. “Tonight my brave warriors will feast!” she shouted in the goblins’ own tongue.

  A cheer went up, loud and guttural. The Meerteufel were pleased with the kill and Sera was relieved. She’d told Antonio, the cook, that she would address the food shortage and she had. Not only did the hunts bring much-needed food to the camp, they channeled the goblins’ energy in a constructive way.

  That was one problem solved, but there were always more. They were still short on weapons and barracks space, as well as food. Not all the fighters that Guldemar had promised her had arrived yet, but even when they did, her military would still be much smaller than her uncle’s.

  The thing that worried her most of all, however, was her friends. Was Mahdi safe? Was his ruse still working? Had Astrid and Desiderio encountered death riders at the Qanikkaaq? What had happened to Becca and Ava? Sera had heard nothing from either of them since she’d warned them that Vallerio’s troops were heading for Cape Horn and the Mississippi. The goblin fighters she’d sent to protect them couldn’t cast convocas, so Sera had no idea if they’d been able to carry out their task.

  And then there was Ling. Sera’s heart ached when she thought of her. She was still optimistic that the others were okay and were making their ways to the Karg, but her hopes for Ling were fading.

  Ling was an incredible communicator. If she were still alive, she would have found a way of letting Sera know. Sera told herself, a hundred times a day, that it was time she faced the fact that Ling was gone. But deep in her heart, she couldn’t let go. We’re bloodbound, aren’t we? she told herself. If Ling died, part of me would die with her. Surely I’d feel it?

  The sound of singing pulled her out of her thoughts.

  She’d led the hunting party of about a hundred Meerteufel out in the early evening when sea creatures rose to the surface to feed. The party had moved north of the camp to Skuld’s Rise, then divided itself into groups of three, fanning out over the hills and shallows. They’d agreed to meet back at the rise two hours later. A goblin named Dreck led the party Sera was hunting with. The goblins Totschläger and Garstig led the other groups. Totschläger’s band was returning now, singing as they trudged along. Some of them carried thick kelp stalks, the ends balanced on their shoulders. From the stalks hung their kills.

  “Well done,” Sera said approvingly.

  Totschläger smiled at her praise, revealing his stumpy, broken teeth, and then the goblins from both groups admired each other’s kills and discussed how best to prepare them. Sera, meanwhile, wondered where the third group was. The dusk was deepening. It was time to return to camp. She didn’t like to be in the open waters after dark.

  “Totschläger, Dreck…where’s Garstig?” she asked.

  The goblin leaders looked at each other. Their smiles turned to frowns.

  “He should’ve been back by now,” Dreck said.

  “He might’ve been ambushed,” Totschläger said. “He’s stupid enough.”

  Sera’s fins prickled. She gathered everyone and swam off after Garstig. “Keep your weapons raised,” she ordered.

  After only a few minutes, Totschläger picked up the trail. “They came this way,” he said, pointing to footprints in the silt.

  They followed the tracks to the edge of a kelp forest and were just about to enter it when they heard voices. Sera quickly signaled the goblins to fall back. They hid behind rocks or flattened themselves in ditches, their weapons ready.

  The noises grew louder. Kelp fronds cracked and snapped as whatever was in the forest moved through it. Sera held up a hand and the soldiers raised their weapons. Sera heard goblin voices coming from the kelp, and mer voices, too. Had death riders captured Garstig?

  The stalks at the edge of the forest shuddered, and then Garstig burst out of them, followed by his troops.

  At Sera’s command, Totschläger and the others lowered their weapons.

  “Garstig, where were you?” she shouted, angry and relieved at the same time. She swam up to him. “We thought you’d been ambushed!”

  “Garstig ambushed?” the goblin growled, insulted. “Never. Garstig did the ambushing and caught more than eels. We caught spies—three of them. Bring the sea scum here!” he bellowed.

  Three mer, their hands behind their backs, were roughly pushed forward.

  “Wow. This is some welcome, Sera,” said one of the spies. She was tall and blond, wearing a sealskin parka and a furious expression.

  “Hey, Sera,” said the second spy, a mermaid with red hair and glasses.

  “Sera? Is that you?” said the third spy, a merman with green eyes and copper-colored hair.

  Sera shook her head, so overjoyed she could barely speak. She rushed to her brother and, half laughing, half crying, threw her arms around his neck.

  “I hardly recognize you. Where’s the gown and the jewelry, little sister? Where are the conchs you always carried around? Where’s your hair?” Desiderio asked.

  “Gone, Des. It’s gone. Everything’s gone. Cerulea. The palace. Mom and Dad—” Her voice broke.

  “Shh, Sera. I know, I know,” said Des. “Astrid told me everything.”

  Sera held on to her brother for a long moment, eyes closed, their sorrow too deep for words. Then she let him go.

  “Astrid…Becca…” Sera said. “I’m so glad you’re safe. So glad you’re here.” She pulled both mermaids into a tight embrace.

  “Me, too, Sera,” Becca said, emotion in her voice.

  “Okay, that’s good. We’re good. I’m good,” Astrid said, clearly unused to public displays of affection.

  Sera kissed her cheek. Astrid grimaced. When Sera kissed Becca, she realized their hands were bound. Desiderio’s, too.

  “Garstig, cut them loose!” she ordered.

  Garstig looked crestfallen. “They’re not spies?” he said.

  “No, this is my brother, Desiderio. And these are my friends, Astrid Kolfinnsdottir and Becca Quickfin. Des, Astrid, Becca…meet Garstig, Totschläger, Dreck, and their fellow Meerteufel.”

  A collective sigh of unhappiness moved through the goblin troops as Garstig cut the ties around his prisoners’ wrists.

  “What’s the matter?” Sera asked, confused.

  “Spies are very delicious stuffed with beach plums and roasted,” Garstig explained.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Astrid said.

  “Totschläger and Dreck caught over thirty conger eels between them,” Sera said. “The Meerteufel will feast tonight.”

  Garstig’s eyes lit up. “Eels are also delicious stuffed with beach plums,” he said.

  Totschläger snorted. “They’re better wrapped with ribbon worms and basted with squid ink.”

  As the goblins argued, Sera turned back to her friends. “How did you get here?” she asked.

  “Some friends gave me a lift,” Becca said, glancing around. “That part’s a long story. I’ll explain later.” Sera nodded and Becca continued. “They dropped me off a few leagues west of here. I had to swim down from the surface, and as I did, I saw two other mer swimming toward the camp. I recognized Astrid and caught up with them.”

  Sera had to ask them. She had to know.

  “Becca, did you…”

  She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. />
  “It’s in my pocket,” Becca said, smiling.

  Sera almost whooped for joy. “Becs, you’re amazing! That makes three out of six!” she whispered.

  She looked at Astrid next, hoping against hope, but Astrid shook her head.

  “We got to the maelstrom, Des and I, about eight centuries too late,” she said. “It’s not there anymore.”

  Sera’s heart fell. Her feelings must’ve shown on her face, because Astrid brusquely said, “Sorry to let you down.”

  “You didn’t let me down,” Sera said fiercely, taking her by her shoulders. “You’re here with us, Astrid. We’re the Six now, just like we were meant to be. And that means the world to me.”

  Astrid looked at Sera skeptically. “But I didn’t get the talisman. We don’t have it,” she said.

  “Yet,” Sera said. “Maybe there’s still a way. Once you’ve rested up you can tell me what happened, then we’ll figure out the next stroke together. Has anyone heard from Ava or Ling?”

  “No,” Becca said, worry creasing her brow. “We were hoping you had.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by Garstig shouting at Totschläger. The argument over the best way to cook conger eel had escalated.

  “I’d better see to this,” Sera said.

  Desiderio’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t, Sera. Goblins get nasty when they fight. You might get hurt.”

  Sera laughed. “Yes, I might,” she said. Then she swam between them, placing a hand on each goblin’s chest. “Stop,” she said. “You need to sort that out with Antonio at the mess hall. We shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe. Let’s get everyone back to camp.”

  The two goblins grumbled, but they followed her orders.

  Desiderio looked at her, obviously impressed. “Guess I shouldn’t call you little sister anymore,” he said. “I know grown mermen who won’t get between two angry goblins. I can’t wait to see the camp.”

  “I can’t wait to lie down in a soft bed,” Becca said.

  “I could use a hot meal,” Astrid added.

  “You’ll see most of the camp on our way back in through the north hills. As for the rest…how about a nice hard bed and some roasted conger eel?” Sera asked sardonically.