Rogue Wave (Waterfire Saga #2)(49)

Basra’s superior attitude was getting to her.

Kora, Neela, Basra, and several other Askari were at the edge of the Razormouths’ breeding grounds. It was a barren, rocky place, littered with the rotting carcasses of sea creatures. Half the group, including Basra and Neela, was wearing camouflage. The other half was not.

“All right, the camoed group looks good. Are we all ready?” Kora asked.

Everyone nodded, though the Askari were more enthusiastic than Neela.

“You know the plan. We head to the caves together, then we split up. My team acts as bait and lures the dragons to the prison. Basra’s team lies low in their camo. After the dragons give chase, they search Hagarla’s cave for the moonstone and grab some swag. You have an hour, Basra, then you join us at the prison. If all goes well, we swim home together.” Kora paused, then shouted, “Great Neria, favor us!”

“Great Neria, favor us!” the Askari shouted back.

“Great Neria, favor us!” Neela shouted, a little late. She tried to sound as tough as the Askari, but didn’t quite succeed. Basra rolled her eyes.

They started off, swimming straight into the heart of the breeding grounds. Basra and her group hugged the seafloor; Kora and her group swam high. Everyone swam fast. It was all Neela could do to keep up. About ten minutes later, Kora stopped and silently pointed to a cave. Its mouth was wide and high. Bones were scattered all around it. Neela’s heart was in her throat. Once the dragons gave chase, Kora and her team would have to stay ahead of them for three leagues. And dragons were fast swimmers. Neela wondered if she’d ever see Kora again.

While Basra and her group remained on the seafloor, Kora’s group hid behind an outcropping of rock. Kora did not join them. Instead, she positioned herself halfway between the rock and the cave. She took a deep breath and emitted a sharp distress cry—the sound a mermaid makes when she’s hurt. She did it again, and then once more, but nothing happened.

“Come on, you smelly tub of guts,” Neela heard her say. “You lowtide, stink-breath, sponge-brained—”

Then there was a sound—a slow, heavy pounding that shook the ground. Kora smiled grimly and cried out again. A few seconds later, Hagarla, the dragon queen, stuck her head out of her cave.

“Oh. My. Gods,” Neela whispered.

“Keep it together, Princess,” Basra warned.

“Bite me, sharkface,” Neela said, fed up with the snide remarks.

Basra gave her a look, but Neela didn’t see it. Her eyes, as big as abalone shells, were on the dragon.

Hagarla was the size of a small whale. Her scaly skin was the blue-black of a bruise, her underbelly the color of a drowned man. Six yellow eyes with black horizontal slits for pupils stared from a massive, serpentlike head. A forked black tongue flicked from her lips. She roared loudly, and Neela saw that she had rows of sharp teeth in her jaws. They spiraled all the way down her throat and were clotted with the bloody chunks of her last meal.

Kora cried out again. Hagarla’s head whipped around, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Kora. She tensed then sprang, but Kora shot off. Other dragons came out of their caves. Hagarla turned and roared at them, possessive of her prey, but they wanted to eat Kora too, so they joined the chase.

When Kora gave the signal, the rest of her group swam out from behind the rock, all shouting and whooping. Their appearance sent the dragons into a frenzy. A dozen of them sprang at the mermaids. Kora and her warriors streaked off, and the dragons followed, propelling themselves with their great raylike wings.

Basra waved her group on. “Let’s go!”

Inside Hagarla’s cave, the smell of decaying flesh was overwhelming, and Neela thought she was going to be sick. She shook off her queasiness and kept swimming, trying to stay focused on her mission. Twenty yards into the cave, the passageway widened into a large, high-ceilinged cavern.

“Holy sea cow,” Neela said, stunned by what was in it—a staggering amount of treasure. Gold plates, silver chalices, coins, glassware, porcelain vases, suits of armor, jewels, goblets, pieces of mirror glass, brass figures, statues of marble and alabaster, chunks of obsidian, malachite, and lapis, several cars, a few bicycles, chrome coffeepots, cutlery, ropes of pearls, swords, scissors—anything with a sparkle or a gleam had been heaped into a small mountain.

“Naasir, grab some swag,” Basra ordered. “Everyone else start searching.”

Naasir took a mesh bag from his pocket and started to fill it. The others dug into the treasure pile.

Neela started flipping bits and pieces of treasure off the pile with her tail. “How am I ever going to find the moonstone in all this?” she said.

“Start with Hagarla’s chest. It’s by her nest. She keeps the best stuff there. Hurry. We don’t have much time,” Basra ordered.

Neela found the chest and eased its lid back. She pulled out necklaces, golden crowns, gemstones, ropes of pearls as long as her tail—one after another. A few minutes later, she was at the bottom of the chest without having found the moonstone.

“Go help the others search the pile,” Basra said. She herself was looking around the edges of Hagarla’s nest.

“Hey!” came a muffled voice. “I think I found it!”

“Ikraan?” Basra called. “Is that you? Where are you?”

“On the other side of treasure mountain.”