Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(12)



Floating before the mirror, Astrid realized that she was about to confront someone who was far more treacherous than the Qanikkaaq, the Williwaw, the infanta, the Okwa Naholo, or the Abyss. If she swam through this mirror, she would come face-to-face with Orfeo. Orfeo. One of the Six Who Ruled. The greatest mage in history. And she? Well, she could turn herself purple when she meant to turn green. Sometimes. If she tried really hard.

“This is insanity,” she whispered to the glass.

She thought of the other five who’d been summoned to the Iele’s caves—Sera, Ling, Neela, Ava, and Becca. They were her friends, her sisters, bloodbound forever. They were counting on her. They wouldn’t back away from this, no matter how scared they were. And she knew that she couldn’t, either.

Taking a deep breath, Astrid placed her hands on the glass.





SHADOW MANSE looked as if it had been sculpted from darkness.

Black walls and floors, made of polished obsidian, reflected the blue waterfire flickering in silver candelabra. Overhead, Gothic arches supported a high, peaked ceiling.

Astrid, her sword drawn, moved warily through what seemed to be the palace’s great hall. Salt water, not the liquid silver of Vadus, swirled around her now. At the hall’s far end, a table, also made of obsidian, was set with sterling platters and bowls, all containing mouthwatering delicacies. A tall chair with carved arms had been placed at the head of the table. Another stood to its right.

Astrid moved toward the table. As she did, she heard footsteps, slow and measured, coming from behind her.

“How unusual,” a voice said. “Most of my guests come bearing gifts, not swords.”

Astrid spun around. It was Orfeo. He was a human, with legs, but he moved through the water smoothly, and breathed it as easily as if he were breathing air.

“You can put your weapon away,” he said, with an amused half smile. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do it here. My servants have just polished the floor.”

Six feet tall, blond, and powerfully built, he was dressed in his customary black suit. His skin was tanned, weathered by sun and sea. Smoke-tinted glasses obscured his eyes. Astrid’s heart raced as she spotted the black pearl hanging at his neck. A suicidal urge to snatch it from him right then and there rose in her, but she fought it down and put her sword back in its scabbard.

Orfeo circled her, his head cocked like that of an osprey eyeing prey, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped in front of her, then placed his palm against her chest.

“Whoa!” Astrid said. She tried to back away but faltered, overwhelmed by a sudden loud pounding. It filled her ears, her head, the entire hall.

“That’s the sound of your heart,” Orfeo said. “So brave. So powerful.” He laughed, pleased by the thunderous noise. “Blood calls to blood, child. The blood of the greatest mage that ever lived. My blood.” He removed his hand and the noise stopped.

“Don’t do that again,” Astrid hissed, frightened but trying not to show it.

His touch was repellent, but that’s not what scared her. When he’d placed his hand over her heart, she’d felt something electric and dizzying surge through her veins: power—pure and thrilling.

“You must be tired. Hungry, too,” Orfeo said. “Come, my servants have set a table for us.”

Astrid shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you summoned me, why I’m here,” she said. She was pretty sure she knew, but she wanted to hear it from him.

Orfeo tilted his head again, regarding her. “They are one and the same—the reason I called you, the reason you came. Deep down, you know what that reason is. Deep down, we all know our heart’s truest desire.”

He offered her his hand. When she didn’t take it, he turned and walked away.

Astrid’s fear paralyzed her. She looked at Orfeo, walking away, then at the mirror that led back to Vadus.

“Who are you afraid of?” Orfeo called over his shoulder. “Me? Or yourself?”

With a last, desperate glance at the mirror, Astrid shored up her courage and swam after him.





NEELA, DISTURBED BY a noise in the barracks, opened her bleary eyes. A tail, pearly beige with patches of brown, was hanging in front of her face.

“Go to sleep, Becca,” she grumbled, swatting it away. “It’s not even light out yet!”

Becca was sitting on the bunk above her, getting dressed. “I can’t. There’s too much to do,” she whispered.

“The work crews won’t be up for another two hours. Go. Back. To. Bed.”

“I need to get a head start,” Becca said, swimming down from her bunk. “After we search the northwest quadrant for lava, I have to review plans for the new barracks and the school, and then inspect work on the infirmary. After that, the weapons need to be inventoried.”

As Becca spoke, she spied a small tail flopping over the side of a nearby bunk. It belonged to a little mermaid named Coco, who tended to toss in her sleep. Becca gently eased Coco’s tail back into her bed, then smoothed a strand of hair out of her face.

Neela blinked at Becca. “Why are you doing this all yourself? Why aren’t you delegating some of the work?”

“I am delegating. I’m just, uh, checking in.”

“Like every ten minutes. Which isn’t delegating. You’ve got to ease up, Becs, or you’ll work yourself to death.”

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