Deep Blue (Waterfire Saga, #1)(66)

Becca, eyes closed, songcast with all her might. As her voice rose, the flames of the waterfire leapt. Astrid backed away from it.

“Of all the stupid moves!” Serafina shouted at her. “You could’ve been killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Astrid shouted back.

“Songspells do, too. Ever hear of those?”

Astrid didn’t reply. She swam to a wall and leaned against it, panting. She had a deep cut across one forearm. Her left temple was bleeding.

She saved our lives. All of us, Serafina thought. Even me. It wasn’t what she expected from the daughter of the man who’d invaded Cerulea and it made her feel off-balance and unsettled.

Becca was sitting on the floor with Vr?ja, who was cradling the wounded river witch.

Serafina turned her attention to them. “How is she?”

Becca shook her head. The incanta’s eyes were half closed. Blood pulsed from a deep gash in her neck. She was trying to say something. Serafina bent low to listen.

“…so many…in blood and fire….I heard them, felt them….Lost, all lost….He’s coming….Stop him….”

And then her lips stopped moving and Serafina saw the light go out of her eyes.

Vr?ja raised her head; the grief in her heart was etched on her face. “Odihne?te-te acum, curajos,” she said. Rest now, brave one. Sera’s own heart filled with sorrow.

More Iele, drawn by the creature’s roars, hurried into the Incantarium. Vr?ja asked two of them to carry their sister’s body away and prepare it for burial, and for another to take Ling’s place in the circle and keep the chant going. And then she rose wearily. Becca helped her.

“It has been growing stronger, but I had no idea how strong until just now,” Vr?ja said.

“Was that—” Serafina started to say.

“Abbadon? Yes,” Vr?ja said.

“It’s here? In the Incantarium?” Becca asked.

Vr?ja laughed mirthlessly. “It’s not supposed to be,” she said. “Only its image. We watch over the monster with an ochi—a powerful spying spell. Abbadon broke through the ochi just now, and the waterfire, too. That is bad enough. But it also manifested physically in this room, which is far worse. Such a thing is called an ar?ta. Until now, it was a theoretical spell only. Though many have tried, no one—not even an Iele—has ever been able to cast an ar?ta. The monster’s was weak, thank the gods. Had it been stronger, we would all be dead, not just our poor Antanasia.”

“I knew I should have stayed outside,” Neela said.

“Oh, no, bright one,” Vr?ja said. “If you had, I never would have seen it.”

“Seen what?” Neela asked.

“How magnificent you are together,” Vr?ja said. “It is just as I’d hoped. It’s more than I’d hoped. Each one of you is strong, yes, but together…oh, together your powers will become even greater. Just as theirs did.”

“Excuse me?” Ling said. “Magnificent? One of your witches just died. The rest of us almost did. That thing nearly got out. If it wasn’t for Astrid, it would have. We weren’t magnificent. We were lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Abbadon grows strong, yes. But you will, too—now that you are united,” Vr?ja said.

“I don’t understand,” Serafina said.

“Did you not feel what happened? Did you not feel your strength? You, Serafina, marshalled your troops as cleverly as your great-grandmother, Regina Isolda, did during the War of Reykjanes Ridge. And you,” she pointed at Ling, “you chanted as if you’d been born an incanta. Neela threw light as well as I do. Becca’s deflecto didn’t so much as crack under Abbadon’s blows. Ava saw what it fears, when we, the Iele, have not been able to. And Astrid attacked with the force of ten warriors.”

Serafina looked at the others. From the expressions on their faces, she could see that they had felt something, just as she had. A clarity. A knowing. A new and sudden strength. It had felt so strange to feel so powerful. Disorienting. And a little bit scary. How had it happened? she wondered.

“You will do even more. We will teach you,” Vr?ja said, swimming toward the door. “Come! There is much to do. We will go back to my chambers now. We will—”

“No,” Astrid said, putting her sword back in its scabbard. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell us why you brought us here.”

Vr?ja stopped. She turned, fixing Astrid with her bright black eyes. “To finish what you just began,” she said.

“Finish what? I don’t get it. You want me to cut off more of the monster’s hands?”

“No, child,” she said.

“Good,” Astrid said, looking relieved. “Because that was really tough.”

“I want you to cut off its head.”





ASTRID’S LAUGHTER rang out above the witches’ chanting.

“Cut off its head! That’s a good one, Baba Vr?ja. I mean, did you see that thing? It’s really strong and really mad. If it could have, it would’ve cut off our heads. So really, why did you summon us here?” she asked.

Vr?ja was not laughing.

“Wait, you’re not…You can’t be serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious. You must go to the Southern Sea, where the monster lies imprisoned. Another seeks it for dark purposes. This other has woken it. You must find the monster and kill it before this other can free it. If you do not, the seas, and all in them, will fall to Abbadon.”