Sea Spell (Waterfire Saga #4)(60)

As Becca examined her armor, her thoughts drifted back to the Iele. She remembered Vr?ja telling her that she was the descendent of the mage Pyrrha, and that the brave Altantean had been a smith, hard at work at her forge on the edge of the island, when she’d seen a fleet of enemy ships approaching. Thinking fast, Pyrrha had dispatched a messenger to the capital, telling them that an attack was imminent. Then she converted the farm tools she’d forged into weapons, armed the people in her small village, and ambushed the invaders.

Becca had followed Pyrrha’s example. The moment she’d returned from Marco’s palazzo, she’d set about teaching the goblin forgeworkers how to heat pearls and insert invisibility spells into them, and then they’d worked around the clock in shifts to make enough transparensea pearls for every single soldier on the mission.

“You’ll never get them done in time,” Yazeed had said. “We need thousands of them, Becca. Tens of thousands. It’s an impossible job.”

“Probably,” Becca said, but she got to work anyway and eventually she’d succeeded. Working side by side with the goblins, she’d done the impossible. Now, in mere minutes, they would cast those pearls, swim down into Cerulea, and battle Vallerio.

A door suddenly opened overhead, about two feet above the waterline. Marco stepped out and appeared on the catwalk that was anchored to the wall of the hold. Becca could see him, but he couldn’t see her. Hers was just one more face in the sea of soldiers.

Her heart filled with love at the sight of him. Her eyes lingered over every plane and angle of his handsome face. She knew this might be the last time she saw it. She’d had so little time with him in Venice. As soon as he’d said he would get the ships, she’d returned to the Kargjord. As much as she’d wanted to stay with him, she’d known that every minute she lingered was another minute Sera spent as Vallerio’s captive.

“Listen up, everyone!” he shouted now, holding his hands up. “I’ve just heard from the other ships. They’re in position and waiting for the go-ahead. Des, what do you say?”

Desiderio nodded at Marco. After they’d returned to camp from the Darktide Shallows, Des had assembled the troops to tell them that Sera had been kidnapped. The fighters had rallied around him, swearing that Vallerio would pay. They’d been only too eager to get on board the transport ships and rescue their leader, and they were ready for what lay ahead.

Des swam to the ship’s wall, leapt out of the water, and grabbed on to the bottom of the catwalk. Hanging on with one hand, muscles rippling in his arm, he addressed his troops. “Fellow Black Fins!” he shouted. “It’s time! Time to take back Serafina, take back Miromara, take back all the waters of the world! We fight for our homes, and our families, and we fight for those who can’t fight—those who are held prisoner, who’ve been taken from their homes and their families by the sea scum Vallerio! Are you with me?”

A deafening cheer rose. Desiderio looked up at Marco. “Give the others the signal,” he said. “And, Marco…thank you.”

Marco nodded. “Good luck.”

As Desiderio dropped back into the water, Marco spoke into his walkie-talkie. A few seconds later, three sets of giant doors opened all along the top of the hold. Becca could see the sky through them, and the full moon glowing, so bright and beautiful. Will I ever see it again? she wondered. Will any of us?

Nets were lowered down into the hold by huge winches. Mer grabbed them and clung on as they were lifted again, then lowered into the ocean.

As Becca watched, she thought of how impossible this was—getting the Black Fins in and out of ships, getting them to Cerulea. And yet, it was happening.

So many things were impossible, until they weren’t.

As the nets dipped back into the hold and soldiers surged toward them, Becca hung back. There was something she had to do before she left this ship. Something that scared her even more than the battle that lay ahead.

“Marco!” she called out. “Marco, it’s me…Becca!”

He looked around, trying to hear her over the noise of the troops and the winches, trying to spot her in the mass of soldiers.

With difficulty, she swam against the tide of bodies.

“I didn’t know you were aboard this ship!” he said as she reached him.

He put his walkie-talkie down on the catwalk and jumped into the water. As she surfaced, Opie leapt onto his arm.

“Hey, looking sharp, Opie!” he said. “Nice sweater.”

The little octopus flushed pink with pleasure.

“Marco, listen,” Becca said. “I don’t know if I’m coming back—”

“Don’t say that, Becca.”

“I have to. And I have to tell you something: I love you, too. I have ever since I first saw you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that.”

And then Becca took his face in her hands and kissed him.

Opie looked from Becca to Marco and back again, wide-eyed. She flushed bright red.

This wasn’t their first kiss, but it might be their last, Becca knew. And she wanted Marco to remember—this kiss, this moment, her. Because if an arrow found her tonight, the last thing she would see would be his kind, beautiful face.

A loud noise overhead made Becca break the kiss. “I have to go,” she said, looking up. The winches were swinging back again. “It’s time to join the others.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Opie’s head. “You stay here now,” she said. “Where you’re safe.”