He stopped when she did. The wintress turned to face him, smiling through the ice, then darted away.
He had arrived at a cave made entirely of ice.
Icicles sharp as swords guarded its entrance, looking ready to fall and skewer an intruder. He walked to its mouth, then lingered, not daring to step through. From what he could see, the entire inside was a geode of ice crystals, glowing in a supernatural bright blue.
For a moment, he considered turning around. He remembered the legend from the Book of Seas and its warning. The truth often led to chaos.
What if the truthteller told him something unforgivable? Something that changed everything?
Or, worst of all, a truth that Tor wished he wouldn’t have known?
He took a step back, his boots imprinted on the snow in front of him. He had doubted himself the entire journey. His worthiness of being the Night Witch’s successor. His wariness of everything that came with that.
But he had made a decision to sail forward, no matter the cost. Which meant he had to make peace with the consequences that could follow.
“Hello?” he called inside and heard his voice echo once, then twice.
The voice that answered was cold as frost. “Enter.”
So he did.
Beyond the entrance of the cave sat a stately home, crafted completely of sparkling ice. A woman stepped down a flight of frozen stairs. She had long, white hair, and Tor couldn’t decide her age. She wore a crown of icicles and a gauzy, blue-white dress.
The truthteller did not look surprised to see him. She didn’t look…anything.
“I suppose you are here because of my abilities?”
When Tor nodded she unsheathed a long sword from her back, and sliced a piece of her stair’s railing with vicious speed. It fell and slid to Tor, coming to a rest against his boots.
“Let that melt in your hands, and I’ll study the puddle.”
Tor knelt down to grab the chunk before the truthteller could send him away. He immediately felt the bite of the ice in the center of his palms. It melted slowly—agonizingly so. He gritted his teeth, trying to get his mind off the shocking pain. “Aren’t you wondering who I am?”
She glanced at him. “No.”
Eventually, the ice pooled in his palms, leaving only a small solid piece in its center, like the yolk of a cracked egg. He waited, hands frozen and throbbing, until it was completely thawed. Only then did he drop the water at his feet.
She walked over, and Tor saw her emblem, a white circle, bright on the top of her hand. She knelt and her dress pooled around her. She dragged a finger through the puddle for just a moment, then stood.
“No questions. I will tell you three truths. And then you must leave.”
Tor nodded.
“First. The prophecy will ring true.”
Tor knew as much, though its confirmation made his stomach sink. Did that mean they would not find the pearl before the spectral, the Calavera captain, and the Swordscale traitor? That there was no chance at a loophole?
The truthteller continued, bored. “Second. The prophecy has not been fulfilled. Your fleeting death was not what it referred to.”
Tor’s breath stuck in his throat, his vision blurred. If the prophecy was true, and it hadn’t been fulfilled…
He or one of his friends would die soon.
Tor almost forgot there was one truth left, until her voice echoed through the cave one final time.
“And third—the Swordscale traitor…” Tor could picture him in his mind’s eye, disappearing with the Calavera captain and the spectral. “He is your waterbreather’s brother.”
The First Mermaid
Once upon a different time, a curious girl had a cruel father. He was rich beyond measure and overly protective of his daughter. To keep her safe, he built a palace atop a cliff on an island accessible only by a land bridge that disappeared in high tide.
When the tide was low, the father locked his daughter in her room, for fear she would use the bridge to leave. She watched the sea from her balcony and marveled at its beauty.
She whispered so many nice things that the sea fell in love with her. It danced beneath her room, sending swells so high she could almost touch them.
One day, she managed to break the lock to her room and fled the palace, intending never to come back. She ran down the land bridge barefoot.
Just as the tide was rushing in.
It swallowed her up, pulling her to the bottom of the ocean.
But she did not drown. The sea asked if she would like to stay, and when the girl said yes, she grew a glittering tail.
And she became the first mermaid.
16
Frozen
Tor walked over ice, feeling a connection to the harsh landscape. He, too, felt frozen solid and fractured through. Weightless, yet dense. And very close to shattering.
He had trusted her. Even after everything she had done, after all of the signs he had chosen to ignore, he had believed her story.
Tor climbed up the ship with shaking hands and stormed over to Vesper, who was glancing down at her map, likely searching for any upcoming land.
“Are you working with them?” he demanded, his own voice surprising him.
Vesper straightened. “Working with who?”
Melda and Engle were behind him a moment later. “The people who captured your kind, the ones that put a bounty on our heads.”
“Of course not,” she scoffed.
Tor seethed. He couldn’t remember being so angry. “Is he your brother?”
Melda stilled. She said very quietly, “Is who her brother?”
“The Swordscale traitor.”
Vesper had her held head high. Her arms were shaking slightly by her sides.
She nodded.
“What?” Melda yelled. “How long have you been playing us? Was this the plan all along? To spy and let us figure out the way to the pearl, so you could report back to your brother?”
Vesper shook her head. “No. I—”
“Do you deny
