Rivera found a third or fourth wind and did a few speed circles by the entry. The Smiths whooped louder. Then she turned the kayak in under one of the ground floor arches leading to the boat landing, the top of its curve mere inches above her head. The rest of us would have to duck. It was a squeeze sideways for the Zodiac, and as I did figure-eights with my oars to hold the dinghy from crashing into them, I saw a strange boat tied up across the Lagoon.

It was sunk in western shadow, but a torch burned in the bow where a sentry had been posted. Painted along its side in block letters: The Mid-Manhattan Floating Library.

Daniel. It had to be.

After a day of terror and wonder, I was too beat for coincidence to stun me again. But really, who else would come up with a wild-eyed idea like that?

TWENTY-ONE

We had all sorts of eager help docking the boats and making them fast, and more after, as we were hoisted onto the shoulders of our denmates, too tired to protest. Our heavy packs were raised behind us like a raiding party’s spoils—which I guess they were. Our very wet feet weren’t allowed to touch down until all six of us had been carried up the ladder, through Main into the Mess, buoyed by cheers and chants and that odd whooping sound the Smiths made to celebrate.

We were deposited facing a table packed with den authority—Rousseau, Maxine, Jake, and Spunk, plus a few senior Smiths I didn’t know. The throng pulled up behind us expectantly. Left to stand on my own, my legs nearly failed me. Next to me, Jenn swayed and grabbed my shoulder for balance. So shaky, and unsure if we’d be praised or punished.

Rousseau turned in his chair, frowning. We’d disturbed a deep discussion. “There better be a reason . . .”

Harbormaster Tito jostled to the front, unable to smooth the glee from his usually sober face. “You’ll want to hear it, boss.”

Grace had landed with her arms aloft in victory vees. She didn’t miss a beat. Her braid loosed and flying, she launched into a vivid blow by blow of our trek, especially her part in it. Fine by me. I’d just seen who was sitting next to Jake, resting back in his chair so his face was blocked till he leaned forward to listen. I’d guessed right. It was his boat.

Daniel caught my eye so briefly, I thought I’d imagined it. The corners of his mouth lifted just as briefly. Somehow, he got that we weren’t supposed to know each other. I ducked my head to hide a give-away grin, taken aback by how glad I was to see him.