“They’ll be on high alert. This way, they might just think you ended up killing us or something. If they’re not all actively tracking and instead using it as a count, there’s no reason to take yours out. A single dot won’t draw attention, not like a group of four would. We’ll remove yours once we get off the islands completely and onto a boat.”

I understand his logic. With so much attention on me, they’ll be watching for when I die. They’ll know immediately. “But won’t they see me going to Predator Point?”

Row shakes his head. “When night falls, they’re all too drunk to follow along much of anything. If they’re tracking us, they’ll forget what they’re doing. None of them stay sober as far as I’ve ever heard. It’s expected you accept the Grand Master’s generosity and drink. We can get to the port and get out of here, remove it before they know what happened, and we’re home free.”

Hesitating, I grimace. “You’re sure?”

“About Ninety-nine percent,” Row offers.

“If that one percent gets us killed, I’m going to be pissed,” I growl, tugging my shirt back on. “Fine, but I don’t like it. Let that be known.”

Jiro smiles. “I know. We’ll remove it once we escape. I promise.”

We settle at the rocky cliffs for the rest of the day, working on the rafts and making sure they look more like driftwood than anything made by humans. It’s a struggle, especially tying the planks together in a way that appears natural, but Jiro and Achilles seem to be good at it. He pushes a bunch of reeds through the boards, making sure we have a few to breathe through depending on our position underneath.

“Your lungs will burn breathing through this,” he says as he pushes another reed through. “The longer you breathe through it, the more light-headed you’ll be. The goal is to have to do it for a short amount of time before getting back up. But if you plan to use it indefinitely, it won’t work. Use it only when needed.”