Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(29)

“Fine, but now that you have the nails, I really don’t think you should be goofing off,” Becca admonished.

Groft crossed her arms. “We’re on our lunch break, you know,” she said defiantly. “If we want to help Ling solve this thing instead of eating, that’s our business.”

“It’s my business, too,” Becca insisted. “We’re on a tight schedule, and I’m responsible for getting this project done, and done on time, and I—”

R?k interrupted her. “Look, Becca…I volunteered to help with the frames. I don’t need this silt,” he said. Then he stalked off.

“Wait…you’re not leaving, are you? You can’t leave!” Becca cried. But that’s exactly what all three of them did. “Great. Just great,” Becca huffed, watching them go. “Goblins! They’re so undisciplined.”

“You’re wrong, Becca,” Ling countered. “They are disciplined, but they hate being ordered around. Most people do, whether they’re mer or goblin. You’d know that if you took the time to talk with them, instead of at them.”

“Ling, you don’t understand. You really don’t,” Becca said frostily.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t understand you. You’ve changed, Becca,” Ling said, speaking with her usual bluntness. “You’ve become overbearing. And touchy. And kind of closed off.”

Becca blinked at Ling. Color rose in her cheeks. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” Ling asked, softening her tone. “The way you’ve been behaving lately…it’s not you. Is something bothering you? Do you want to talk about it?”

Becca brushed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Wow, Ling. Now you’re the one lecturing me about how I should behave—”

“Whoa, there. Hold up,” Ling said. “Nobody’s lecturing anyone.”

“Maybe you should look at yourself,” Becca said. “Everyone in the entire camp is working flat out to get ready to go to the Southern Sea, and you’re playing with the puzzle ball. Which is kind of hard to take when so much needs to get done, you know?”

“I am working, Becca,” Ling insisted. “Trust me.”

Becca snorted. “Yeah, right. Did you catch the spy yet?”

“No, not yet, but—”

“Well, don’t strain yourself playing with your toy, okay? If you decide you do want to do some work, find me. I’ve got plenty. Later,” Becca said, and then, with an angry flip of her tail, she swam away.

Ling winced. “Ouch.” She sighed. “That went well.”

She watched her friend wind her way through the camp, then disappear behind a boulder.

She’s hurting, Ling thought. Otherwise, she never would have snapped like that. She’s in pain. I wonder what’s causing it.

And then Ling’s heart lurched. Just days ago she’d told Sera that the spy was in pain. And that the spy was someone close to her—very close.

“No, not Becca,” Ling whispered. “It can’t be her. Please gods, no.”

It would kill Sera if Becca had betrayed them. It would kill all of them.

Ling looked down at the talisman resting on her palm, knowing now that it might lead her not only to an enemy, but to a friend. For an instant, her resolution faltered; she felt paralyzed. When the spy was caught, he—or she—would be taken before a military tribunal. If found guilty, he’d be sentenced to death by firing squad.

Could I do it? Ling asked herself. Could I turn in a friend knowing she might be executed?

She worked the spheres of the puzzle ball, as if they might give her the answer, but they didn’t.

Vallerio knows we don’t have a lava seam, enough food, or enough troops. If I don’t catch the spy soon, he’ll attack again, and maybe this time he’ll send a thousand death riders instead of a hundred, she thought. I have to keep trying to find the spy, even if he or she turns out be one of us.

A noisy group of goblins approached her now.

Ling knew what she had to do. With a heavy heart, she looked up at them.

“Hey!” she called out, pasting a smile on her face. “Are any of you good with puzzles?”





ASTRID FELT as though she were crawling out of a deep pit.

She tried to open her eyes, but the light was blinding. She tried to call for help but couldn’t form the words. And all the while, the terrible pain in her throat clutched at her, trying to drag her back down into unconsciousness.

A voice, low and concerned, pushed at her through the darkness. “Astrid? Can you hear me? Are you in pain?”

“Yes,” she managed to croak.

“I have medicine. Can you sit up? I’ll help you.”

Astrid felt strong arms lifting her body, taking her weight effortlessly. Pillows were plumped behind her, and she was eased back against them. Her head felt so heavy, but she managed to lift it and open her eyes. She saw that she was in her room in Shadow Manse. She was wearing a sea-flax nightgown and lying in a bed filled with soft black anemones.

Orfeo sat on the edge, his brow creased with worry. “Drink this,” he said, handing her a glass containing a heavy, murky green liquid. “I’d advise getting it down all in one go. It tastes terrible.”