Paddling around the weeds, Zane scanned the dark sea floor for signs of a gem that might have spilled away from the sirens’ troves. As the seconds slipped by, Zane paced his energy so he might hold his breath longer. He imagined he would transform into a handsome, icy merman soon.

Another grin found him at that thought.

A shuffle in the marsh halted his search. He wondered if Tigris was in trouble, if the sirens had found him. As Zane peered into the slimy grasses and sponge, he did in fact see Tigris. But Tigris was not in trouble.

The young sputtlepun was reaching into his pocket. He drew out—

A black pearl.

Cheater.

Zane abandoned his search and headed into the weeds. If Tigris intended to swindle a win, Zane would steal the pearl right from the boy’s hands and deliver it to his mother with a smile.

Tigris’s silver eyes rose as Zane slashed away the weeds between them. The boy’s grip tightened around the gem, and he drew a dagger, halting Zane’s pursuit.

No weapons during the race—rule number four.

They floated there for a heartbeat until Tigris’s hoary gaze dropped to the tattoo on Zane’s arm. A slow sneer followed.

Odd.

Zane’s attention drifted to his forearm. He’d barely had a chance to sort out his curiosity when a sea-shuddering current barrelled into him and tipped him off balance. Tigris too went spinning, falling into the blackest pit of the marsh. Zane stared after the boy until the current came again—a punch of a wave against his flesh that sent his skull colliding with the jagged underside of the Kelidestone.

“Bloody frostbite!” His underwater curse let in a mouthful of water, and he batted his arms to steady himself.

Tigris swam like a panicked gull to the surface, the pearl still clutched in his grip. Zane blinked against the bubbles, peering through the black sponges muddying the water and through the tendril of red—

Red…?!

Zane’s eyes fired back to his tattoo, to that spot on his forearm where his mother had touched. And he saw it—the slight prick into his flesh where his blood leaked from. He hadn’t felt it beneath his mother’s hand.

His growl was drowned by the third current that plunged against his body and pushed his back against the daggered wood of the ship. He thrashed as the water fought against his pinched mouth, against his nostrils, trying to make its way in and drown him.

Zane kicked off the ship and paddled for the hole in the ice where Tigris had disappeared. There was no game to play anymore. Something was down here in these weeds. Something that perhaps his mother had known was waiting.