Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(20)

THINGS WILL LOOK different in the morning.

Desiderio’s words echoed in Sera’s aching head.

“Will they?” she asked herself.

They’d changed, all of them—Neela, Ling, Becca, Astrid, Ava. They’d grown. And she had, too; she knew that. She’d conquered many painful challenges since her mother had been assassinated, but this one—leading her fighters into war—seemed like it would conquer her.

She was failing now. Failing her duties, her people, and herself, and the knowledge of it plunged Sera into despair. She felt so lost, so wretched, that she just swam forward, paying no attention to where she was going. Past caves, boulders, and clumps of seaweed. Past the north gate.

Almost an hour after she’d left headquarters, the blood-chilling howls of a pack of dogfish startled Sera out of her desperate thoughts. She looked around and saw that she was on the far eastern edge of her camp, beyond the protective cover of Devil’s Tail, in a desolate patch of scrubweed and rock.

The currents keened mournfully through the rocks; the waters were a good deal colder out here than they were back at headquarters. Shivering, Sera pulled her collar up around her neck, ready to turn back for the warm heart of her camp. But before she could, she heard the sound of voices. They were coming from the other side of a large boulder that was encrusted with tube worms.

The speakers had heard her, too. “Who’s there?” one shouted tersely.

Sera tried to back away quietly.

“This is Ensign Adamo of the Black Fin resistance! Show yourself! Now! Or I’m coming around that boulder arrows flying.”

Sera panicked. She couldn’t let herself be seen in this state. She was supposed to be an inspiration to her fighters, not a cause for concern.

“I said, show yourself!”

Frantic, Sera cast a quick illusio spell, hoping to turn her copper-colored hair black and her green eyes blue. Thanks to the iron-rich boulder, though, she ended up with black eyes and blue hair.

“I’m not asking again!” the voice threatened.

Then Sera heard a crossbow being cocked. She swam around the boulder, hands raised. “It’s okay. I’m a Black Fin,” she said.

A merman, gray-haired, with a craggy, bearded face, had his crossbow trained on her. ADAMO was embroidered on his uniform. Two others—a younger merman, and a female goblin—also had their weapons raised.

“If you’re one of us, why are you sneaking around the outskirts of camp?” Ensign Adamo demanded, eyeing her uniform.

“I wasn’t sneaking. I—I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a swim.”

“Where you from?”

“Cerulea.”

“Swashbuckler, huh?” Adamo said, taking in her bright blue hair. “What’s your name, merl?”

“Sera,” she replied without thinking. Then she hurriedly added a surname. “LaReine.”

“That doesn’t sound like a Cerulean name to me,” Adamo said, his eyes narrowing.

“My mother’s side is from the city,” Sera quickly lied. “My father’s family comes from westerly waters. Off the shores of France.”

“I guess that accounts for it,” said Adamo, lowering his weapons. His companions lowered theirs, too. “You’re welcome to sit with us and warm up,” he added, nodding at the waterfire. “We finished our watch. Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go foraging.”

“Thank you,” said Sera.

Adamo told Sera that his first name was Salvatore. The younger merman introduced himself as Enzo Lenzi and the goblin simply as Sn?fte. They made room for her around the waterfire. As she sat down, Enzo picked up a knife and a small block of wood. Little pieces of wood littered the seafloor around him. Sera realized he’d been carving before she barged in upon them. As she looked at what he’d been making—a little figure of a seal—her heart clenched.

She knew another young merman who carved. He’d made a tiny octopus for her once. In the gardens of Cerulea’s royal palace. As she watched Enzo work, she missed Mahdi so badly, it hurt.

Sn?fte suddenly elbowed Sera, startling her out of her reverie. The goblin held out a bowl woven of scrubgrass. It contained clumps of plump, juicy squid eggs. “Help yourself. We found them under some rocks.”

Sera took a clump and popped it into her mouth. The sweet, briny eggs burst as she chewed them. “Mmm,” she said through a mouthful. “Wow, are those good. Thank you.”

“A whole lot better than conger eel stew,” Salvatore commented. He was sitting by the fire now, too.

“I swear to Vaeldig, if I have to eat another bowl of that swill, I’ll throw up,” Sn?fte complained.

Vaeldig, Sera knew, was the goblin god of war. Inwardly she winced, feeling guilty that she couldn’t provide her troops with better food.

Sn?fte shook her head. “I came here because Guldemar ordered it,” she said. “You three”—she nodded at Salvatore, Enzo, and Sera—“volunteered.” She laughed. “Sk?re t?ber,” she said in her own language. Crazy fools.

“Yeah, I did volunteer,” Salvatore said wryly. “At the time, I thought there were things worth dying for—my realm, my city, my ruler. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Sera’s despondency deepened as she listened to Salvatore and Sn?fte. She’d been unable to face sending loyal soldiers to their deaths, soldiers who believed in the fight. The idea of sending soldiers to die for a cause they no longer believed in was even worse.