“Don’t worry, I look better than I feel.” I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Where’s Lena?”

“She went back out to dispose of the boat, in case the Coast Guard had a way to track it. She’ll be back soon with the car.” She leaned over and grinned, displaying what I assumed was a bit of fin stuck between her teeth. “Still think Vanguard is overreacting?”

Someone had replaced my glasses on my face. The lenses were so badly streaked they made my vision worse, and the right hinge was bent. I tried to clean them, but my ocean-soaked clothes were useless. “What time is it?”

“About one in the morning.”

“Great. Wake me up when the clock hits January.”

“What happened to you back there?”

“Too much magic.” Back when I’d been a traditional libriomancer, magic used to make me lose my appetite. It hadn’t made me lose the contents of my stomach.

Ponce de Leon once told me true sorcerers used wands and staves to channel their magic, allowing all that power to damage their tools rather than their bodies. Unfortunately, he’d disappeared again before explaining exactly how to perform magic with such tools. It was one more thing I intended to research, if I ever got the opportunity.

I looked around, trying to figure out where we were. Through the ink-like smears across my vision, I saw empty docks stretched out to either side. This time of year, people would be starting to bring their recreational boats in for the season, though I spotted a docked pontoon boat and a pair of sailboats a little ways off.

A car door slammed nearby. Lena hurried toward us through knee-high grass, a single wooden sword ready in one hand. “Isaac?”

“I’m alive. Mostly.”

“Glad to hear it. Can you walk?”

“Have I mastered the skill? Yes. Can I demonstrate it at this particular moment? I’m not sure.”

She scooped up Smudge and set him on her shoulder. His flames died down. Either Lena’s presence made him feel safer—understandably so—or else he’d been burning entirely for my sake, trying to keep me warm.

She took hold of my arm and pulled me slowly to my feet. The ground wobbled a bit. “They’re talking about this on the news. The radio called it a terrorist attack against Coast Guard vessels. There hasn’t been an official statement yet.”

“They’ll need time to get their story straight.” Deb paused to snatch something small from the sand, probably a crab or crawfish or some such. She popped it into her mouth before I could make out the details. “I don’t think anyone got a good look at me, but Isaac here’s another story. Once they hauled Mr. Bigshot Television Star into their rescue boat, it was all over.”

“They shouldn’t remember any of it. I hit them all with a shot of Lethe water.”