Deep Blue (Waterfire Saga, #1)(65)

No one turned back. Vr?ja nodded, then swung the door open. As she did, the sound of chanting grew louder. A scream of rage echoed off the thick stone walls. The water was heavy with the scent of fear.

“Oh, gods,” Serafina whispered as she looked into the room.

In front of her eyes, a nightmare came to life.





IN THE CENTER of the room, the waterfire burned.

Eight river witches—incanti—swam counterclockwise around it, chanting, hands clasped, just as they had in Serafina’s dream. Their faces were gray and gaunt. Blood streaked the lips of one, and dripped from the nose of another. Bruises mottled the face of a third. Sera could see that the magic cost them dearly.

Vr?ja circled the witches, her eyes on the waterfire. “Du-te ?napoi, diavolul, ?napoi!” she shouted at the thing inside it. Go back, devil, back!

As Serafina swam closer to the witches, she saw an image rippling within the ring of waterfire. She recognized it; it was the bronze gate, sunk deep underwater and crusted with ice. Behind it, something moved with a feral grace. An eyeless face appeared at the bars. Above it rose a pair of cruel-looking, jet-black horns.

“Shokoreth!” it howled, as if it somehow knew Sera and the others had come to hear it. “Apateón! Am?gitor!” The monster threw itself against the gates. They shuddered and groaned. The ice encrusting them cracked. “Daímonas tis Morsa!”

“Aceasta le vede! Consolidarea foc! ?ine-l?napoi!” Vr?ja ordered. It sees them! Strengthen the fire! Hold it back!

The witches’ voices rose. One, summoning the last of her strength, closed her eyes and leaned forward. Closer to the waterfire. Closer to the rippling image. It was a mistake.

The monster opened its lipless mouth in a snarl. As Sera watched in horror, a sinewy black arm, streaked with red, shot through the bars of the gate, through the waterfire, and into the Incantarium. The monster grabbed the witch by her throat. She screamed in pain as its nails dug into her flesh. It jerked her forward, breaking her grip on the incanti at either side of her. The waterfire went out.

“E a rupt prin! Condu-l ?napoi! ?nchide cercul ?nainte s? ne omoare pe to?i!” Vr?ja shouted. It has broken through! Drive it back! Close the circle before it kills us all!

There were more screams. There was blood in the water, terrror and chaos in the room. Serafina was right in the midst of it, yet somehow, she was suddenly above it. Her hearing sharpened; her vision focused. She could see the monster’s next move, and the one after that, as if watching pieces sweep across a chess board. And she could see how to block them.

“Becca!” she shouted. “We need a deflecto spell!”

“I’m on it!” Becca shouted, then started to songcast a protective shield.

“Ling! Take the witch’s place!”

Ling joined the incanti, crossing her wrists so she could grip hands with them despite her sling. She grimaced in pain as one of the witches took hold of her bad hand, then started to chant. As she did, slender fingers of waterfire rose from the ground in front of the prison. Serafina knew the blue fire took time to conjure. She would have to draw the monster off.

“Hey!” Serafina shouted, clapping her hands loudly. “Over here!”

The monster whirled around. More hands came through the bars. In the center of each palm was a lidless eye.

“Come on! Right here, sea scum! Let’s go!” Serafina shouted.

The monster released the incanta and struck at Serafina. It was fast and powerful, but Becca’s deflecto, well-sung and solid, protected her.

While Serafina distracted the creature, Becca tried to pull the wounded incanta clear of the waterfire. The monster saw her.

“No!” Serafina shouted. Without thinking, she swam around the deflecto and slapped the water noisily with her tail.

The monster turned from Becca and rushed at her again. She shot backward, but not fast enough. Its claws caught her tail, opening three long gashes in it.

Serafina bit back the pain. “Ava, talk to me!” she shouted. “Can you see anything? What’s it afraid of?”

“Light, Sera! It hates light!”

“Neela, frag it!”

Neela bound the lava’s light tightly, then hurled it through the bars of the gates. It hit the floor and exploded, forcing the monster back. Only seconds later, though, the creature was reaching through the gate again, seemingly unharmed and fueled by a new fury. The bronze bars groaned as it shook them. One started to bend. The waterfire was rising, filling the room with blue light, but it was still weak. Becca, cradling the wounded witch, added her voice to the incanti’s and the waterfire flared higher.

“It’s going to get out!” Neela yelled. “The flames aren’t strong enough!”

Suddenly, a blur of black and white flashed past them. It was Astrid, moving with the deadly speed of an orca. “Not if I can help it,” she growled.

“Astrid, no! You’re too close!” Serafina shouted.

But Astrid didn’t listen. With a warrior’s roar, she swung her sword at the monster, the muscles in her strong arms rippling. The blade came down on one of its outstretched arms and cut off a hand.

The monster shrieked in pain and fled into the depths of the prison. Its severed hand scrabbled in the silt. Astrid drove the point of her saber through it. The fingers clutched at the blade, then curled into the palm, like the legs of a dying spider.