Rogue Wave (Waterfire Saga #2)(44)

“What kind of help?”

A wave of exhaustion washed over Neela. She had no idea where to start. “Um, well, we need to save the world, basically,” she said.

“And the right accessories will aid you in that?” Kora asked, raising an eyebrow. The Askari laughed uproariously.

Neela glared. “The right accessories,” she said testily, “help with everything.” She needed Kora to help her, not mock her.

Kora wrapped an arm around her neck and put her into a headlock—a Kandinian sign of affection. “Do you remember the last time you came to Kandina? With the entire Matalin royal family? The entourage continued behind you for two leagues! Where are your trunks? Where are your retainers?”

“Oh, Kora, there are no retainers. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This visit isn’t like the last time. Not at all. There’s trouble, big trouble…” Neela said. Her voice broke on the last word. She was so upset by what she’d seen at the prison camp, so worn out from hours of swimming, that she was about to collapse.

Kora snapped into action. She led Neela to a shaded part of the arena, made her sit down in a cushioned chair, and called for food and drink. The Askari followed, and sat in a circle around their queen and her guest.

“Now, tell me,” Kora said.

Neela glanced at the guards.

“I trust them with my life,” Kora said, reading her thoughts. “We cannot help you if you cannot trust us. All of us.”

Neela nodded. And then she told them everything—about the dream, the attack on Cerulea, the duca, the death riders, the Iele, the Six Who Ruled, the monster, the talismans, and her escape from her own palace.

“I need you to help me find the moonstone. Sera and I believe it’s with the dragon queen. And there’s something else, too,” she said. She took a deep breath, readying herself to tell them about the prison camp, when she realized the Askari had gone dead quiet. They looked at one another, then at her. She recognized their expressions. She’d seen them very recently—on the faces of her mother and father.

“Wait, don’t tell me,” she said. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” She looked from the guards to Kora.

“Neela,” Kora began, “you come in very strange clothes, telling us a wild story….”

“It’s a true story. Every word of it,” Neela said.

“Where is your proof?” Kora asked.

Neela remembered the beaded armband. It was in her pocket.

“You want proof? Okay. Have any of your villages been raided? Have any of your people been taken?”

Kora looked at her for a few seconds before answering. “Yes,” she finally said. “Jua Maji was raided. My kiongozi—my general—is out along the southern borders of the realm as we speak, searching for the villagers. Why do you ask? How do you know this?”

“Your general won’t find them. They’re west of here, not south. I’ve seen them. A gogg took them. They’re being used as slaves.”

“Neela, you are not making any sense. Food has arrived. Perhaps you should eat something,” Kora said, motioning for her servants to put their platters near her.

They set out pitchers of spiced dugong milk, bowls of sea-snake eggs in a blue anemone sauce, plates of moon jellies stewed with shoal peppers, and a spongecake studded with candied honeycomb worms. Neela ignored it all.

“Your people, Kora, are in a prison camp,” she said. “They’re being forced to search for a moonstone, the talisman I just told you about. I’ve seen them. They’re being worked to death.” She pulled the armband from her pocket and handed it to Kora. “Here’s your proof.”

Kora’s eyes widened. She took the armband. “This pattern—it’s kengee, sun ray. Every village has its own pattern. This one belongs to Jua Maji.”

In an instant, Kora was out of her chair. Fins flaring, she picked up a fighting stick, swung it over her head, and brought it down on a table, smashing it to pieces. “We have to get them out!” she cried. “Now! The kiongozi is gone, so we will do it—the Askari and I!”

Neela had forgotten what her friend was like when she was riled. It was hard to reason with her.

“Whoa, Kora,” she said. “Hold on a second. You can’t get them out. There are sea whips and guards. With weapons. As fearsome as you and the Askari are, you are no match for them. That prison is a fortress.”

Kora snorted. “Every fortress can be taken,” she said. “It’s only a question of how.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Neela said, her voice breaking with exhaustion.

Concerned, Kora ordered her servants to take Neela to comfortable quarters. Neela followed them, barely able to swim another stroke, with Ooda close behind. At the edge of the arena, she turned and glanced back.

Kora and the Askari were casting songspells to transform themselves, changing their bold markings to muddy browns, greens, and black, the colors of the seafloor and its flora. Neela couldn’t believe what she’d set in motion. This was all happening so fast. But would it be fast enough? The guards had talked about moving the prison. Kora’s people were suffering severely from the brutal conditions they were forced to endure. Many of them would likely die from the long swim to the new site.