Deep Blue (Waterfire Saga, #1)(47)

“Fight him, Sera!” Neela shouted, as she moved from mirror to mirror, frantically peering in each one. “He’s feeding on your fear! Don’t let him!” Getting nowhere, she swam to the broken-necked vitrina. “Lydia, hey,” she said, cocking her head to meet the ghost’s eyes. “I need to get to the Olt River. Can you help me?”

Lydia closed her doe-like eyes.

Neela swam to Alice. “Alice, please,” she begged.

Alice frowned. “Paler. I could be paler still. Don’t you think? I know I’d find a husband then.”

Neela started toward Katharine, but Rorrim spoke before she could reach her.

“My dear, dear, Princess Neela, do slow down! You look so stressed. Here, just for you. A kanjaywoohoo,” he said, holding out a sweet on his palm. “Swallow it, darling. Just like you swallow all your fears and frustrations. They leave such a bitter taste, don’t they? This is much sweeter.”

Neela stopped dead.

“It gets so tiring, doesn’t it? Always having to smile and agree. Never being able to speak your mind. The sweets make up for it all. Cram a bag of bing-bangs into your mouth and you forget for a while how much you hate pink. And the palace. You forget how much you fear your future—the boredom, the longing to do something else, to be something else.”

“H-how…how do you…” Neela stammered.

“Know? Why, I’ve seen you, darling. In your room. Alone at night. Cutting and sewing dresses you’ll never wear. Stashing them in the back of your closet. Suma knows about that, by the way. Watch out for her.”

As Rorrim continued to speak, Neela’s face changed. Her expression became vulnerable and raw, and Serafina knew Rorrim was getting to her, too. He’d turned Neela’s heart inside out for anyone to see, just as he’d done to hers.

Then Neela abruptly shook her head, as if clearing sea foam from her ears. “Nice try, lumpsucker,” she said. She swam down the hallway and kept searching.

Watching her, Serafina rallied and almost freed her tail, but before she could, Rorrim said, “I wonder if we can go deeper. Yes, there’s something right there…oh, it’s very deep. Ah! Here we go!” There was another popping sensation in her back and then: “Lovely! Fear of failure! It has such a wonderfully sharp flavor to it. You’re terrified of proving yourself a disappointment, aren’t you? I can see why. Your mother is—forgive me, was—an incredible leader. Strong, smart, so dedicated. You’re nothing like her, darling. Not at all.”

Serafina felt weaker. Rorrim was right—it was pointless. Everything was pointless. It didn’t matter if she broke free or not. Why should she even try? She would only fail.

Rorrim prodded her spine again. “This will soften soon. Fear rots backbones like cavities rot teeth.” He smiled, his eyes glittering, then said, “And you, my dear, are full of it.”

“Principessa!” a voice shrilled.

Serafina looked up. It was Josephine. She was walking toward Serafina and she was furious.

“Principessa, tell your friend to stop being so annoying! She’s making a spectacle of herself and taking everyone’s attention off me!”

“Not now, Josephine,” Rorrim warned.

“Yes, now, Rorrim,” the vitrina said, stamping her foot. “Nobody’s looking at me! Everyone’s looking at her!” She turned to glare at Neela.

Neela was far down the hall of mirrors. She was waving her arms over her head, trying to get Serafina’s attention. As soon as she had it, she pointed to a mirror on the wall and gave her a thumbs-up. Then she cupped her hands to her mouth. “Don’t listen to him, Sera! You faced down Alítheia! You faced down Traho! Fight this tube worm!” she shouted.

Neela’s words were like a powerful undertow, pulling Sera out of her torpor. She’s right, she thought. I have faced worse things than Rorrim. She straightened her back, picked up her head, and shook off the hopelessness that had descended on her. With a great, wrenching cry, she pulled herself free of the silver.

“Swim, merl, swim!” Neela yelled.

Sera did. She raced down the hall to her friend. When she was only a few feet away, Neela dove through the mirror she’d been pointing to, shouting, “Follow me!”

Serafina put on a burst of speed, ready to dive after her, but Rorrim was right behind her, surprisingly fast for a man of his size. He grabbed her hair and yanked her back. The pain was electric. She screamed and tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.

“Not so fast, little princess. You’re mine now.”

Blu flashed into her mind. She saw him as Traho’s soldiers shot the spear through him. She saw him trying to cut the line attached to it. Then she remembered the dagger Grigio had given her. In a flash, she pulled it out of pocket, reached behind her head, and sliced through her tresses.

A split second later, she shot through the mirror, leaving Rorrim Drol holding a handful of hair.





“UM…SO, NEELS,” Serafina said, looking down at her tail fins, which were submerged in a low, wide stone bowl, “the Iele live in a toilet?”

They were in a tiny grotto, no more than three feet by four. They’d tumbled out through a narrow mirror in the wall and Sera had landed tailfirst in the bowl.

“Wow. I think something went wrong,” Neela said, jammed painfully between the toilet and the wall.