Waterfire Saga, Book Four: Sea Spell: Deep Blue Novel, A (18 page)

“This belonged to Alma, my beloved wife.” He held the necklace out to her. “I gave many pieces of her jewelry to a very helpful…” He hesitated slightly, then said, “…
friend
.”

Morsa,
Astrid thought. A vitrina in the ruins of Atlantis had told Sera that Orfeo had courted the goddess, and Sera had told Astrid.

“But
this
necklace was not meant for her,” Orfeo continued. “It was meant for
you
.”

Astrid shook her head. “I can’t take it.”

Alma had lived thousands of years ago. Her necklace was ancient and priceless.

“I want you to have it. I hunted for it for a long time in the ruins of Atlantis. It was a wedding present to Alma from her parents,” Orfeo explained. “According to Atlantean custom, the pearls symbolize the children the bride and groom will have, and the children those children will have, and so on, continuing a family’s line into eternity. I know how happy it would make Alma if you were to accept the necklace. You are
our
eternity, Astrid…Alma’s and mine.”

Before Astrid could object, he fastened the piece around her neck. “Go look in the glass,” he said, pointing to the mirror standing in the corner.

Astrid swam over and gazed at her reflection, marveling at how gorgeous the necklace was. Shyly, she touched it.

“You resemble her,” Orfeo said wistfully. “And the children we had.”

“What was she like?” Astrid asked, swimming back to him.

“Beautiful, both inside and out. Kind. Good. Gentle.”

“I wish I could have known her.”

As she spoke, Orfeo’s expression grew darker. Although she couldn’t see his eyes behind his glasses, she had the distinct feeling that they were focused on something far away. Something only he could see.

“One day, you
will
know her. One day Abbadon will tear down the gates to the underworld and then I’ll take Alma back.”

The name Abbadon hit Astrid like a hard slap.
He’s getting to you. He’s winning you over, just as Sera said he would. Fight it!

“The monster must be very powerful to be able to do such a thing,” she said, determined to find out as much as she could about their foe, and not let her friends down.

“The monster is
beyond
powerful,” said Orfeo.

“And yet he was defeated by your fellow mages,” Astrid ventured, hoping to keep him talking. “He was caged on Atlantis.”

“Defeated?”
Orfeo echoed contemptuously. “Hardly. Abbadon went into the Carceron because I told it to.”

“What?” Astrid said, stunned. “I thought Merrow and the other mages
drove
the monster into the prison.”

“They
believed
they did. Which is exactly what I wanted.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“Abbadon was my greatest creation. I used everything I had—my magic, my learning—to conjure it. I needed it to march on the underworld,” Orfeo explained. “I knew the other mages would try to stop me, even if it meant killing me. I didn’t care about my own survival—I’d learned how to cheat death—but I had to ensure Abbadon’s. I had to protect it.”

Astrid’s pulse quickened. Did the monster have a weakness? She had to find out what it was. But she’d have to proceed carefully.

“How?” she asked lightly.

“By creating a refuge for it,” he replied. “A place where it could sleep, but not die, in case my plans failed. When I was nearly ready to unleash it, I changed the Carceron’s lock. It had been created to accommodate my old talisman—Eveksion’s emerald. One night, I altered it to accept my new talisman—the black pearl. But the other mages soon discovered what I’d done, and—”

“They weren’t happy about it,” Astrid cut in.

Orfeo smiled. “You could say that. They’d learned of my other activities as well.”

“You mean your…” Dare she say it? “…sacrifices. The people you offered to the death goddess, Morsa.”

Orfeo raised an eyebrow. “My, my. Someone’s done her homework.”

Astrid worried that she’d gone too far and he would stop talking. But he continued relating his tale with relish, as though he’d been waiting centuries to tell it.

“Yes, my sacrifices. The mages tracked me down to Morsa’s temple. They tried to get me to come out. When I refused, they battered the doors down. They had seen Abbadon and vowed to kill it, so I ordered Abbadon to kill
them
, and anyone else who opposed me. The mages fought hard. They used all their magic. During an unguarded moment, when I was trying to catch my breath, Merrow attacked me with her sword, rather than a spell, and dealt me a mortal blow. Or so she thought.”

Astrid believed she knew how Orfeo had survived. Could she get him to admit it?

“It was Morsa’s talisman, wasn’t it? That’s what saved you. You used a pearl to hold your soul. Just like Horok does.”

“The student will soon overtake her teacher,” Orfeo said, admiration in his voice. “Yes, Astrid, I did. And then Merrow ripped Morsa’s pearl from my neck and used it, and the other talismans, to open the Carceron. She thought she was so powerful….” He shook his head at the memory. “But she and the others could never have forced the monster into the prison by themselves.
I
was the one who told it to go in. I spoke to it from the pearl, telling it to sleep, to be safe. Promising I would come for it one day.”

“The mages believed they’d put an end to Abbadon,” Astrid said, amazed. “Instead, they preserved it for you until you could gather the talismans.”

Orfeo nodded, smiling with pride. “It has taken time. Merrow threw the black pearl into the Qanikkaaq. Had it not been for a greedy fish, and an even greedier Viking, I might still be inside the maelstrom.”

“How did you create Abbadon?” Astrid pressed.

“Now, my dear,
that
must stay a secret. If no one knows what the monster is made of, no one can kill it.”

“I would never tell anyone. Not after what you’ve done for me,” Astrid lied.

Orfeo’s mood changed abruptly; Astrid felt the eyes behind his glasses boring through her. “Do you think I’m a fool, child? I wouldn’t have survived for four thousand years if I was. I know that you’ve come to take my pearl—or at least
try
to—and carry it back to your friends.”

Astrid’s cheeks burned. He’d seen right through her clumsy attempt to glean information. What had ever made her think she could trick him?

“You’re loyal, and I admire that,” Orfeo said. “But soon those loyalties will be tested. You’ll have to make a choice between your friends and me.
That’s
your answer, Astrid. That’s why I summoned you. You’re here to choose. Choose your friends, and you choose defeat. Choose me, and you choose victory, power, and immortality. Alma and I, together with you, our descendant, our daughter, will begin the world anew. You’ll become a great mage, too, second only to myself. No one, and nothing, will equal our might.”

“That’s not going to happen, Orfeo. I’ve made my choice.”

“Have you?” Orfeo said enigmatically. He ran a hand over a row of giant conch shells on one of his shelves.

“Yes, I have. I—”

“Sing, Astrid.”

“What?”
Astrid said, caught off-balance.

“Sing.”

She shook her head. “I see where you’re going, but it won’t work. So just kill me and get it over with.” Astrid sounded a lot braver than she felt.

“Kill you?” Orfeo echoed, recoiling. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re free to leave here anytime you like.”

“I am?” Astrid was so surprised, she didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

“Yes. But before you do, grant me one small favor.”

Astrid looked at him warily.

“I tried my best to heal you. At least let me see if I’ve succeeded.”

“But I—I can’t,” Astrid protested. Panic gripped her at the very idea. What if she tried and failed?

“Couldn’t,”
Orfeo corrected. “Try.”

“My throat hurts too much.”

Orfeo clucked his tongue. “Still afraid, aren’t you?”

He’d seen through her again. Astrid looked at the floor. “Yes,” she admitted.

“You were only a child when you swallowed that coin. And it was so hard to be a mermaid without magic, wasn’t it?” Orfeo said, his voice so understanding. “Is there anything worse for an Ondalinian? It hurt so much to hear the whispers, the laughter, the jokes. It hurt to disappoint your mother and father…”

Astrid felt as if he could see inside her, into her very soul. For her, a mermaid used to hiding her true feelings, the scrutiny was painful.

“…but you were never a disappointment to me.”

Astrid raised her head. She looked at him uncertainly. Why would he say that—
never a disappointment
? She couldn’t have disappointed him, or pleased him, either. She’d only just met him.

“I watched you,” he continued. “I was a face in the crowd at the Citadel. A judge passing by you in the Hall of Justice. A guard in the royal quarters. Sometimes I was a sea lion, a narwhal, a sculpin. I’ve watched you every chance I had, Astrid.”

Astrid made a face. “Um, Orfeo? That’s creepy.”

Orfeo laughed. “No, child, that’s
love
. I was the hippokamp that threw Tauno when he teased you on a hunt, and the sea leopard that bit his backside when he made a cruel remark.”

Astrid laughed, too; she couldn’t help herself. She remembered both of those incidents so clearly. It had felt so good to see Tauno humiliated after he’d humiliated her. She felt an unbidden rush of gratitude toward Orfeo.

“That was
you
?” she asked. “Really?”

Orfeo nodded. “I’m telling you these things to prove that I would never be cruel to you, Astrid. You are my blood, my daughter. Sing, child.
Try
.”

Astrid wanted to. So badly. But it took more courage than she possessed.

Orfeo must’ve seen that, for he offered her his hand. “Remember what it felt like to make music,” he said. “Remember, Astrid.
Sing.
”

Astrid gazed at him, feeling like a struggling swimmer caught by an undertow.

I’m letting him come too close again,
she thought.
I need to leave him, leave this room, leave Shadow Manse. Now.

But she couldn’t make herself go. Her longing to sing again was too great. She needed her magic like she needed to breathe.

I’ll use it to defeat him,
she promised herself.
I let him heal me. Now I’ll let him teach me, and then I’ll use what I’ve learned to get the black pearl.

Astrid took Orfeo’s hand, and took a deep breath.

T
HE PAIN WAS TERRIFYING.

Astrid felt like she’d swallowed broken glass. Only a few notes came out of her mouth, and they sounded rough and screechy—like a boat scraping over rocks.

Orfeo squeezed her hand. “Again,” he urged.

Astrid coughed self-consciously and tried once more. This time, the notes sounded like rough, rusty music.

“Oh, my gods!” she whispered. “I can sing. Orfeo, I can
sing
!”

Happiness flooded through her. It overwhelmed her, making her forget everything else. She forgot all about the black pearl. She forgot her friends, their quest, Abbadon. For a few seconds, she forgot herself.

“Try a simple spell,” Orfeo suggested, encouraging her.

“Okay.” She thought to back the first spells she’d ever learned, swallowed hard, then sang.

A split second later, her entire body was mottled in shades of white, blue, and gray. Her eyes lit up. She gasped. “Did
I
do this?” she asked. Before Orfeo could reply, she said, “I’m going to try another one! A harder one!”

“Not yet,” he cautioned, holding his hands up. “You proved to yourself that you can sing again. Don’t rush things and strain your vocal cords. One songspell a day, until your throat is completely healed.”

Astrid was disappointed, but she nodded. “I can at least
listen
to some conchs, though,” she said, as Orfeo undid her camouflage spell. She was greedy for more magic.

Before he could answer her, they both heard a knock on the door.

“Enter!” Orfeo called out.

A servant swam inside. “Captain Traho is here, my lord. He has something he wishes to give you.”

Astrid stiffened at Traho’s name. Why was he here? What did he have for Orfeo? She hoped to the gods it wasn’t one of the talismans.

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s a matter I must attend to,” Orfeo said, heading for the door. “Feel free to listen to any songspell you wish.”

“Orfeo…” Astrid said.

He turned back to her; a questioning expression on his face.

“Thank you.”

Her words were sincere. She
was
grateful to him. For giving her her voice back. For giving her her magic back.

For giving her the very weapons she would use against him.

Orfeo smiled, and then he was gone. The servant closed the door behind him.

Astrid immediately swam to a shelf. She had her magic, and she had access to every spell known to merkind. Surely
one
of them could help her get the pearl.

The strange trancelike state she’d been in earlier was gone now. It troubled her that she had fallen under Orfeo’s spell for even a brief second, but she shook off the uneasy feeling. It had only happened because she’d been overwhelmed by emotion.