Linden was so going to give him Aquaman shit until the end of his days.

And directly across from me, Talia had also begun her ascent.

With the garnet at her throat glowing like some otherworldly beacon, a fog began to gather around her. It was an eerie, unnatural mist, ashen and somehow unctuous, writhing in a way that made it seem disturbingly alive. It wrapped itself around Talia in questing tendrils, then lifted her from the ground and propelled her into the sky.

Caught up in its tangle, she drifted toward the middle of the lake like a dark comet, a sooty smear trailing in her wake.

My mouth dropped open as I watched her wing her way toward the center like a wraith; I’d never seen anything remotely like this spell. Whatever dark Avramov magic this was, there was no denying that it was both entirely fucking cool and hot as hell.

The problem was that Gareth was still outpacing both of them.

He was already so much closer to the golden rose than either Talia or Rowan that he felt comfortable enough to slow his sprint to a more leisurely jog, dimples clefting his cheeks as he readied a triumphant smile. He even went so far as to pop off a snarky salute to Talia, whose answering glower from amid her cloud of darkness would have turned a wiser man to stone.

Then a curtain of water and flopping airborne fish came cascading over his head.

“What the fuck,” I heard him splutter, dashing water from his eyes. “What—”

Another deluge broke over him before he could finish, plastering his hair right back over his eyes. A fish, iridescent and tropical-looking, wriggled under his flared collar and disappeared into the folds beneath, squirming around under his robe while Gareth flailed and shrieked, batting at his front.

Even from within the mantle’s magic, I couldn’t suppress a delighted chortle—which emerged as such a loud and malevolent BAHAHAAA that I clapped my hand over my mouth, gritting my teeth.

Must remember to never do that again.

But the next time Rowan showered him, Gareth was prepared.

Flinging one hand up, he froze the water before it could crash over his head, hardening it into an icicle-dripping arch. It was all good fun, he must be figuring, a trace of smugness seeping back into his face as he skidded under the arch and dredged up yet more bridge for himself up ahead. After all, combatants were traditionally allowed to mess with one another during the challenges—if they could afford to lose the time while battling their own way toward victory.

Except, as Rowan sent another tidal wave cresting over Gareth’s icy bridge—a towering wall of water full of thrashing purple squid, along with an actual fucking stingray most definitely not native to Illinois—it was clear he wasn’t even pretending to make for the middle anymore. Instead, he bobbed in place, wet brow furrowed with concentration, funneling all his energy into thwarting Gareth by battering him with wave upon relentless wave. It was all Gareth could do to keep freezing them, one after the next, before one inevitably swept him right off his feet.