Rogue Wave (Waterfire Saga #2)(7)

“Why?” Serafina said. Then she understood. “Vitrina! Ling, you’re a genius!”





“SO, TELL ME, does my hair look better up? Or down?”

“Four thousand years go by, and this is what she asks us?” Ling grumbled.

“Shh!” Serafina hissed, elbowing her. “Up, Lady Thalia. Definitely,” she said to the figure in the mirror. “It frames your face beautifully that way. And shows off your lovely eyes.”

The vitrina twisted her hair up and pinned it. “Oh, you’re so right! Now, which earrings? The ruby drops or the gold hoops?”

“You do remember that we’re right smack in the middle of a tribe of cannibals, right?” Ling whispered.

Serafina and Ling were in the women’s baths. The building, made of thick blocks of stone, had survived with little damage. One room—maybe a dressing room—contained walls that had been covered with mirror glass. Much of it had darkened, cracked, or fallen away, but there was still one good-size panel that wasn’t too clouded, and in it they’d found Lady Thalia, a noblewoman. She was its first and only occupant, the mermaids had learned. She’d lived in it by herself for the last four millennia.

“Poor Lady Thalia,” Sera had said. “You must’ve been so lonely all this time with no one else to talk to.”

“Hardly! I have myself to talk to, my dear, and there’s no one more charming, or lovelier, more graceful, or wittier, or more captivating in every possible way than me.”

Like all vitrina, Thalia was a ghost. She had been in love with her own reflection while alive and now her soul was trapped inside the glass forever. She’d been haughty and silent when the mermaids first found her, but Serafina had flattered her so much that she’d finally deigned to speak with them. As long as the topic of conversation was her.

Serafina smiled at the mirror. “So, Lady Thalia…” she said.

“Mmm?” Talia said, fastening an earring.

“We need your help.”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

“Really? You’ll help us?” Serafina said excitedly.

“Yes. First, my dear, do something about that hair,” Thalia said. “Get a wig. Cast a spell. Anything. But fix it. Second, the black eye shadow has to go. And that outfit—simply unspeakable!”

“Um, that’s not the kind of help we had in mind,” said Ling.

“And you”—she pointed to Ling—“get rid of the sword. It’s unfeminine. Pluck those eyebrows. Put on some lipstick. And smile. Smiling makes you pretty.”

Ling glowered.

“Lady Thalia, thank you for all the wonderful advice. We’re very grateful for it. But we need a different kind of help,” Serafina said.

“We need to know about Orfeo,” Ling added.

“I don’t wish to talk anymore. Good-bye,” Thalia said, abruptly turning away.

“Lady Thalia, don’t go. Please,” Serafina pleaded. “If you don’t help us, many will die.”

Thalia slowly turned back to the mermaids. Her vapid expression had been replaced by one of fear. “I can’t! What if he hears me?” she whispered.

“He’s dead. Merrow killed him a long time ago,” said Ling.

“Are you sure?” Thalia asked, looking as if she didn’t believe them.

“Yes. But his monster—Abbadon—is alive. And it’s going to attack again. It’s going to do to others what it did to the people of Atlantis,” Sera explained.

Thalia shuddered. “It doesn’t feel like Orfeo’s dead. It feels like he’s still here, moving through the streets of Elysia like an ill wind. We locked our doors, shuttered our windows, but it did no good.”

“Tell us what happened,” Serafina said. She squeezed Ling’s hand, certain that they were on the verge of getting the answers they needed.

Thalia shook her head sadly. “He was so beautiful. You don’t call men beautiful, I know. But Orfeo was. He was tall and strong. Bronzed from the sun. Blond and blue-eyed. He had a smile that melted hearts. Every woman in Elysia was in love with him, but he loved only one: Alma, my friend. She was good and kind, as Orfeo himself was then, and he loved her more than anything in this world, or the next. They married and were very happy, but then Alma grew gravely ill and everything changed. Orfeo couldn’t accept that she would die. He was a healer and he used all his powers to save her, but it was no use. She suffered so terribly that she begged for death, saying it would be a relief….”

Thalia stopped to dab at her eyes, and Serafina saw that the memory of her friend’s death was still very painful, even after four thousand years.

“When Alma was near the end, a priest placed a white pearl under her tongue, as was the custom, to catch her soul as it left her body,” Thalia continued. “After she passed, her body was placed on a bamboo bier and floated out to sea where Horok—the ancient coelacanth, the Keeper of Souls—would take the pearl from her mouth and carry it to the underworld. But as the bier floated away, Orfeo, insane with grief, cried out to Horok, begging him not to take Alma. Horok told Orfeo such things cannot be. That’s when Orfeo went mad. He vowed to get Alma back if it took him a thousand lifetimes. He returned to his home and destroyed all his medicines. His frightened children ran to an aunt’s house. He hardly spoke to anyone in the months that followed, and barely ate or slept. All his energies went to building a temple for Morsa. When it was finished, he locked himself inside it.”