Rogue Wave (Waterfire Saga #2)(38)

Infante.

“Oh. My. Gods,” Serafina whispered. “I know where the talisman is.”





SERAFINA JUMPED UP out of her chair so fast, she knocked it over.

“Magistro!” she shouted.

“My goodness, child, what is it?” Fossegrim asked, startled.

“Where can I find conchs on shipwrecks in Miromara?”

“Level Eight,” he said. “Why?”

Serafina grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She headed to the door.

“Principessa, wait! Where are you going? It’s not safe outside,” Fossegrim protested.

“I have to go, Magistro. I’ll return as soon as I can. Hopefully in a few days. Tell the others good-bye for me. Can I borrow a compass?” she asked, grabbing one from a shelf.

“Yes, of course. But why?” Fossegrim asked.

“I’ll tell you when I get back!” Serafina said. She hugged the old merman, grabbed a lava globe, and swam out of the bunker. A few minutes later, she was on Level Eight.

Infante.

The word had triggered a memory—an image of a painting that had hung on the wall of the duca’s library before it was stolen by Rafe Mfeme. It was a portrait of one of the duca’s ancestors, Maria Theresa, an infanta of Spain. Around her neck was a magnificent blue diamond—a jewel that had been passed down through generations of Spanish queens. Was that why Merrow had gone to the Spanish coast? To give her very own talisman to a human?

The more Serafina thought about it, the more sense it made. Merrow chose a human because there was nothing more dangerous. That human must have been an ancestor of the infanta’s, which is how the infanta had come to own the diamond. And Rafe Mfeme had stolen the infanta’s portrait to show it to Traho, so he could see exactly what the talisman he was searching for looked like.

The only thing Sera couldn’t figure out was how Traho had made the same connections without having seen Merrow’s bloodsong in the Iele’s caves, or talking to Lady Thalia. Once again, he was one stroke ahead of her.

Sera found the shipwreck section easily. She remembered that the duca had said that the infanta sailed to France in 1582 on board the Demeter, and soon located a conch containing information on the ship, including where it sank—twenty-five leagues due south of the French town of Saintes-Maries. The pirate who’d attacked it was from Cathay. His name was Amarrefe Mei Foo. Contemporary sources believed that Mei Foo did not obtain the diamond, but no one knew what actually happened to it, only that it was never seen again.

“Hopefully because it’s still around the infanta’s neck,” Serafina said aloud, putting the conch back.

She slung her bag over her shoulder. She had what she needed. Dawn was still hours away. She’d leave Cerulea under cover of darkness. Later, she’d contact Neela, Ava, Ling, and Becca to tell them what she’d learned.

“Where are you going? Can I come with you?” a voice said.

Serafina nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around, reaching for her knife, but it was only Coco. And Abelard.

“Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!”

Coco eyes traveled to the bag slung over Serafina’s shoulder. “You’re going somewhere, aren’t you? Take me with you.”

“No, it’s much too dangerous. And besides, who would take care of Fossegrim?”

The little merl threw her arms around Sera’s neck. “Promise me you’ll come back. Promise me,” she said fiercely.

“I promise,” Serafina said. She hugged her hard, then said, “I’ve got to go now, Coco. Get back to the bunker where it’s safe.”

Serafina said good-bye, then swam away. Time was not on her side. Traho also believed that the infanta’s blue diamond and Neria’s Stone were one and the same. Plus he had the portrait. He knew what the diamond looked like. He probably knew about the Demeter, too, and that the infanta had gone down with it.

Serafina could only hope that he didn’t know the wreck lay twenty-five leagues due south of Saintes-Maries.





NEELA YAWNED. Another day had passed. The waters outside her windows were growing dusky. She’d lost track of how many days she’d been confined to her room now. Five? Six? Did it matter? Did anything?

There were zee-zees and bing-bangs nearby. Bags of them. Their wrappers littered her floor. There were kanjaywoohoos. And pink, lots of pink. Pink saris. Pink bangle bracelets. Pink scarves. Was pink really so bad? Maybe she should do what they wanted. Maybe she should give in, a little voice inside her said. Before she truly lost her mind—from boredom.

“No way,” she said out loud, countering the voice. “I won’t.”

Giving in was impossible. Not because she’d have to surrender her swashbuckler clothes, though she’d miss them greatly, but because Kiraat wanted promises of good behavior. That meant she wasn’t supposed to talk about Abbadon or swim off to find Sera the first chance she got.

Neela rose from her chair. She was just about to pour herself yet another cup of tea when she heard a tapping at her window. Startled by the noise, Ooda puffed up in alarm. Neela swam to the window and saw that a pelican was swimming back and forth outside it. He tapped again.

“I can’t open it!” she told him. “I’m sorry!”