Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(42)

“Yes. But before you do, grant me one small favor.”

Astrid looked at him warily.

“I tried my best to heal you. At least let me see if I’ve succeeded.”

“But I—I can’t,” Astrid protested. Panic gripped her at the very idea. What if she tried and failed?

“Couldn’t,” Orfeo corrected. “Try.”

“My throat hurts too much.”

Orfeo clucked his tongue. “Still afraid, aren’t you?”

He’d seen through her again. Astrid looked at the floor. “Yes,” she admitted.

“You were only a child when you swallowed that coin. And it was so hard to be a mermaid without magic, wasn’t it?” Orfeo said, his voice so understanding. “Is there anything worse for an Ondalinian? It hurt so much to hear the whispers, the laughter, the jokes. It hurt to disappoint your mother and father…”

Astrid felt as if he could see inside her, into her very soul. For her, a mermaid used to hiding her true feelings, the scrutiny was painful.

“…but you were never a disappointment to me.”

Astrid raised her head. She looked at him uncertainly. Why would he say that—never a disappointment? She couldn’t have disappointed him, or pleased him, either. She’d only just met him.

“I watched you,” he continued. “I was a face in the crowd at the Citadel. A judge passing by you in the Hall of Justice. A guard in the royal quarters. Sometimes I was a sea lion, a narwhal, a sculpin. I’ve watched you every chance I had, Astrid.”

Astrid made a face. “Um, Orfeo? That’s creepy.”

Orfeo laughed. “No, child, that’s love. I was the hippokamp that threw Tauno when he teased you on a hunt, and the sea leopard that bit his backside when he made a cruel remark.”

Astrid laughed, too; she couldn’t help herself. She remembered both of those incidents so clearly. It had felt so good to see Tauno humiliated after he’d humiliated her. She felt an unbidden rush of gratitude toward Orfeo.

“That was you?” she asked. “Really?”

Orfeo nodded. “I’m telling you these things to prove that I would never be cruel to you, Astrid. You are my blood, my daughter. Sing, child. Try.”

Astrid wanted to. So badly. But it took more courage than she possessed.

Orfeo must’ve seen that, for he offered her his hand. “Remember what it felt like to make music,” he said. “Remember, Astrid. Sing.”

Astrid gazed at him, feeling like a struggling swimmer caught by an undertow.

I’m letting him come too close again, she thought. I need to leave him, leave this room, leave Shadow Manse. Now.

But she couldn’t make herself go. Her longing to sing again was too great. She needed her magic like she needed to breathe.

I’ll use it to defeat him, she promised herself. I let him heal me. Now I’ll let him teach me, and then I’ll use what I’ve learned to get the black pearl.

Astrid took Orfeo’s hand, and took a deep breath.





THE PAIN WAS TERRIFYING.

Astrid felt like she’d swallowed broken glass. Only a few notes came out of her mouth, and they sounded rough and screechy—like a boat scraping over rocks.

Orfeo squeezed her hand. “Again,” he urged.

Astrid coughed self-consciously and tried once more. This time, the notes sounded like rough, rusty music.

“Oh, my gods!” she whispered. “I can sing. Orfeo, I can sing!”

Happiness flooded through her. It overwhelmed her, making her forget everything else. She forgot all about the black pearl. She forgot her friends, their quest, Abbadon. For a few seconds, she forgot herself.

“Try a simple spell,” Orfeo suggested, encouraging her.

“Okay.” She thought to back the first spells she’d ever learned, swallowed hard, then sang.


Goddess, Neria, give me aid!

Into this iceberg help me fade!



A split second later, her entire body was mottled in shades of white, blue, and gray. Her eyes lit up. She gasped. “Did I do this?” she asked. Before Orfeo could reply, she said, “I’m going to try another one! A harder one!”

“Not yet,” he cautioned, holding his hands up. “You proved to yourself that you can sing again. Don’t rush things and strain your vocal cords. One songspell a day, until your throat is completely healed.”

Astrid was disappointed, but she nodded. “I can at least listen to some conchs, though,” she said, as Orfeo undid her camouflage spell. She was greedy for more magic.

Before he could answer her, they both heard a knock on the door.

“Enter!” Orfeo called out.

A servant swam inside. “Captain Traho is here, my lord. He has something he wishes to give you.”

Astrid stiffened at Traho’s name. Why was he here? What did he have for Orfeo? She hoped to the gods it wasn’t one of the talismans.

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s a matter I must attend to,” Orfeo said, heading for the door. “Feel free to listen to any songspell you wish.”

“Orfeo…” Astrid said.

He turned back to her; a questioning expression on his face.

“Thank you.”

Her words were sincere. She was grateful to him. For giving her her voice back. For giving her her magic back.