Waterfire Saga, Book One: Deep Blue (A Waterfire Saga Novel) (22 page)

I
N THE CENTER
of the room, the waterfire burned.

Eight river witches—incanti
—swam counterclockwise around it, chanting, hands clasped, just as they had in Serafina’s dream. Their faces were gray and gaunt. Blood streaked the lips of one, and dripped from the nose of another. Bruises mottled the face of a third. Sera could see that the magic cost them dearly.

Vrăja circled the witches, her eyes on the waterfire.
“Du-te înapoi, diavolul, înapoi!”
she shouted at the thing inside it.
Go back, devil, back!

As Serafina swam closer to the witches, she saw an image rippling within the ring of waterfire. She recognized it; it was the bronze gate, sunk deep underwater and crusted with ice. Behind it, something moved with a feral grace. An eyeless face appeared at the bars. Above it rose a pair of cruel-looking, jet-black horns.

“Shokoreth!”
it howled, as if it somehow knew Sera and the others had come to hear it.
“Apateón! A
măgitor!”
The monster threw itself against the gates. They shuddered and groaned. The ice encrusting them cracked.
“Daímonas tis Morsa!”

“Aceasta le vede! Consolidarea foc!
Ṭine-lînapoi!”
Vrăja ordered.
It sees them! Strengthen the fire! Hold it back!

The witches’ voices rose. One, summoning the last of her strength, closed her eyes and leaned forward. Closer to the waterfire. Closer to the rippling image. It was a mistake.

The monster opened its lipless mouth in a snarl. As Sera watched in horror, a sinewy black arm, streaked with red, shot through the bars of the gate, through the waterfire, and into the Incantarium. The monster grabbed the witch by her throat. She screamed in pain as its nails dug into her flesh. It jerked her forward, breaking her grip on the incanti at either side of her. The waterfire went out.

“E a rupt prin! Condu-l înapoi! Închide cercul înainte
să ne omoare pe toṭi!”
Vrăja shouted.
It has broken through!
Drive it back! Close the circle before it kills us all!

There were more screams. There was blood in the water, terrror and chaos in the room. Serafina was right in the midst of it, yet somehow, she was suddenly above it. Her hearing sharpened; her vision focused. She could see the monster’s next move, and the one after that, as if watching pieces sweep across a chess board. And she could see how to block them.

“Becca!” she shouted. “We need a deflecto spell!”

“I’m on it!” Becca shouted, then started to songcast a protective shield.

“Ling! Take the witch’s place!”

Ling joined the incanti, crossing her wrists so she could grip hands with them despite her sling. She grimaced in pain as one of the witches took hold of her bad hand, then started to chant. As she did, slender fingers of waterfire rose from the ground in front of the prison. Serafina knew the blue fire took time to conjure. She would have to draw the monster off.

“Hey!” Serafina shouted, clapping her hands loudly. “Over here!”

The monster whirled around. More hands came through the bars. In the center of each palm was a lidless eye.

“Come on! Right here, sea scum! Let’s go!” Serafina shouted.

The monster released the incanta and struck at Serafina. It was fast and powerful, but Becca’s deflecto, well-sung and solid, protected her.

While Serafina distracted the creature, Becca tried to pull the wounded incanta clear of the waterfire. The monster saw her.

“No!” Serafina shouted. Without thinking, she swam around the deflecto and slapped the water noisily with her tail.

The monster turned from Becca and rushed at her again. She shot backward, but not fast enough. Its claws caught her tail, opening three long gashes in it.

Serafina bit back the pain. “Ava, talk to me!” she shouted. “Can you see anything? What’s it afraid of?”

“Light, Sera! It hates light!”

“Neela, frag it!”

Neela bound the lava’s light tightly, then hurled it through the bars of the gates. It hit the floor and exploded, forcing the monster back. Only seconds later, though, the creature was reaching through the gate again, seemingly unharmed and fueled by a new fury. The bronze bars groaned as it shook them. One started to bend. The waterfire was rising, filling the room with blue light, but it was still weak. Becca, cradling the wounded witch, added her voice to the incanti’s and the waterfire flared higher.

“It’s going to get out!” Neela yelled. “The flames aren’t strong enough!”

Suddenly, a blur of black and white flashed past them. It was Astrid, moving with the deadly speed of an orca. “Not if I can help it,” she growled.

“Astrid,
no
! You’re too close!” Serafina shouted.

But Astrid didn’t listen. With a warrior’s roar, she swung her sword at the monster, the muscles in her strong arms rippling. The blade came down on one of its outstretched arms and cut off a hand.

The monster shrieked in pain and fled into the depths of the prison. Its severed hand scrabbled in the silt. Astrid drove the point of her saber through it. The fingers clutched at the blade, then curled into the palm, like the legs of a dying spider.

Becca, eyes closed, songcast with all her might. As her voice rose, the flames of the waterfire leapt. Astrid backed away from it.

“Of all the
stupid
moves!” Serafina shouted at her. “You could’ve been killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Astrid shouted back.

“Songspells do, too. Ever hear of those?”

Astrid didn’t reply. She swam to a wall and leaned against it, panting. She had a deep cut across one forearm. Her left temple was bleeding.

She saved our lives. All of us,
Serafina thought.
Even me
. It wasn’t what she expected from the daughter of the man who’d invaded Cerulea and it made her feel off-balance and unsettled.

Becca was sitting on the floor with Vrăja, who was cradling the wounded river witch.

Serafina turned her attention to them. “How is she?”

Becca shook her head. The incanta’s eyes were half closed. Blood pulsed from a deep gash in her neck. She was trying to say something. Serafina bent low to listen.

“…so many…in blood and fire….I heard them, felt them….Lost, all lost….He’s coming….Stop him….”

And then her lips stopped moving and Serafina saw the light go out of her eyes.

Vrăja raised her head; the grief in her heart was etched on her face.
“Odihneṣte-te acum, curajos,”
she said.
Rest now, brave one
. Sera’s own heart filled with sorrow.

More Iele, drawn by the creature’s roars, hurried into the Incantarium. Vrăja asked two of them to carry their sister’s body away and prepare it for burial, and for another to take Ling’s place in the circle and keep the chant going. And then she rose wearily. Becca helped her.

“It has been growing stronger, but I had no idea how strong until just now,” Vrăja said.

“Was that—” Serafina started to say.

“Abbadon? Yes,” Vrăja said.

“It’s
here
? In the Incantarium?” Becca asked.

Vrăja laughed mirthlessly. “It’s not supposed to be,” she said. “Only its image. We watch over the monster with an
ochi
—a powerful spying spell. Abbadon broke through the ochi just now, and the waterfire, too. That is bad enough. But it also manifested physically in this room, which is far worse. Such a thing is called an
a
răta
. Until now, it was a theoretical spell only. Though many have tried, no one—not even an Iele—has ever been able to cast an a
r
ăta. The monster’s was weak, thank the gods. Had it been stronger, we would all be dead, not just our poor Antanasia.”

“I
knew
I should have stayed outside,” Neela said.

“Oh, no, bright one,” Vrăja said. “If you had, I never would have seen it.”

“Seen what?” Neela asked.

“How magnificent you are together,” Vrăja said. “It is just as I’d hoped. It’s
more
than I’d hoped. Each one of you is strong, yes, but together…oh,
together
your powers will become even greater. Just as theirs did.”

“Excuse me?” Ling said. “
Magnificent?
One of your witches just
died
. The rest of us almost did. That thing nearly got out. If it wasn’t for Astrid, it would have. We weren’t magnificent. We were lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Abbadon grows strong, yes. But you will, too—now that you are united,” Vrăja said.

“I don’t understand,” Serafina said.

“Did you not feel what happened? Did you not feel your strength? You, Serafina, marshalled your troops as cleverly as your great-grandmother, Regina Isolda, did during the War of Reykjanes Ridge. And you,” she pointed at Ling, “you chanted as if you’d been born an incanta. Neela threw light as well as I do. Becca’s deflecto didn’t so much as crack under Abbadon’s blows. Ava saw what it fears, when we, the Iele, have not been able to. And Astrid attacked with the force of ten warriors.”

Serafina looked at the others. From the expressions on their faces, she could see that they
had
felt something, just as she had. A clarity. A knowing. A new and sudden strength. It had felt so strange to feel so powerful. Disorienting. And a little bit scary.
How had it happened?
she wondered.

“You will do even more. We will teach you,” Vrăja said, swimming toward the door. “Come! There is much to do. We will go back to my chambers now. We will—”

“No,” Astrid said, putting her sword back in its scabbard. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell us why you brought us here.”

Vrăja stopped. She turned, fixing Astrid with her bright black eyes. “To finish what you just began,” she said.

“Finish
what
? I don’t get it. You want me to cut off more of the monster’s hands?”

“No, child,” she said.

“Good,” Astrid said, looking relieved. “Because that was really tough.”

“I want you to cut off its head.”

A
STRID’S LAUGHTER
rang
out above the witches’ chanting.

“
Cut off its head!
That’s a good one, Baba Vrăja. I mean, did you see that thing? It’s really strong and really mad. If it could have, it would’ve cut off
our
heads. So really, why did you summon us here?” she asked.

Vrăja was not laughing.

“Wait, you’re not…You
can’t
be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious. You must go to the Southern
Sea, where the monster lies imprisoned. Another seeks it for dark purposes. This other has woken it. You must find the monster and kill it before this other can free it. If you do not, the seas, and all in them, will fall to Abbadon.”

Serafina was speechless. They all were. The six mermaids looked at each other in wide-eyed disbelief, then all started talking at once.

“Go to the Southern Sea?” Ling said.

“We’ll freeze to death!” Becca said.

“Kill Abbadon?” Ava said.

“How would we even
find
him? The Southern Sea is huge!” Neela said.

“This is totally insane,” Astrid said. “I’m out of here.”

As Serafina watched Astrid swim toward the door, lines from her nightmare suddenly came back to her.

Gather now from seas and rivers,

Become one mind, one heart, one bond

Before the waters, and all creatures in them,

Are laid to waste by Abbadon!

And suddenly she knew what she had to do. Just as she had moments ago, when the monster attacked them. She had to keep the group together, no matter what.
One mind, one heart, one bond.
She couldn’t let anyone leave.

“Astrid, wait,” she said.

Astrid snorted. “Later,” she said.

“You’re afraid,” Serafina said, sensing that the only way to stop her was to challenge her.

She was right. Astrid stopped dead, then turned around, eyes blazing.

“What did you say?”

“I said, you’re afraid. You’re afraid of the story. That’s why you want to leave.”

“Afraid of what story? What are you
talking
about? You’re as crazy as she is,” Astrid said, nodding at Vrăja.

Serafina turned to the river witch. “Baba Vrăja, before you opened the door to this room, you said that what’s inside it had a story,” she said. “And that it would tell us who we are. We need to hear that story.
Now
.”