Barclay had never wished so desperately to be a more powerful Lore Keeper. There was nothing he could do to win this.

Nothing he could do.

The thought gave him an idea.

“How much water do you need?” he asked Tadg.

“Don’t answer that,” Abel said, pressing harder on Tadg’s chest.

“Whatever it is,” Tadg rasped, “just do it.”

Barclay hesitated. If he acted, would Abel and Ethel hurt Tadg and Viola more? But no amount of pleading would save them now. No amount of pleading would save the Woods now.

And so Barclay howled, and in the moment of silence that followed, Barclay wondered if Root wouldn’t listen like he had when they’d faced Soren in the practical. Maybe Barclay had broken their relationship beyond repair.

He met Root’s eyes desperately, as if to say please.

Root threw his head back and howled as well.

The already dark forest went significantly darker. Thunder cracked through the sky, and it began to pour, the hardest rain Barclay had ever felt. His clothes were quickly drenched, and the circle of mirrors began to fill up like a bathtub.

“Make it stop,” Abel growled.

“I can’t,” Barclay told him truthfully. This was Root’s power, not his.

The water levels rose, soon above both Tadg’s and Viola’s heads. But while treading water, Ethel and Abel could no longer hold them, and Tadg and Viola slipped out of their grasps. The rain continued so hard that it hurt, the drops beating like hail against Barclay’s skin. The pool rose and rose. Beside Barclay, Root had pushed Abel’s Doppelgheist off him and had begun to tread, his head bobbing up and down at the water’s surface. Barclay reached for him and mouthed, “Thank you,” then he and Viola returned Root and Mitzi to their Marks.

“Is this enough for you?” Barclay asked Tadg.

“Almost,” Tadg answered. He’d tilted his head up so he could still stand and breathe.

Abel and Ethel had disappeared back into their reflections, but the mirrors remained.

“How is this not enough?!” Barclay shouted at him.

“Mar-Mar will shock you if you’re still in the water,” Tadg said. “You need to wait for the mirrors to fill up so you can spill over.”

Barclay didn’t like the idea of wasting more time. But the pool filled up within only a few minutes, and soon both Barclay and Viola were able to hoist themselves over the ledge of mirrors and tumble the ten feet to the ground below.

Once they did, a terrible shriek pierced the forest. Barclay’s Mark stung in warning, more painful than it ever had.

“Can you see anything?” Barclay asked Viola, wincing and standing on his tiptoes to try to peer over the glass.

Viola shook her head. “I can’t.”

Just then, a head emerged from the water. It rose up and up, so tall that it hunched beneath the forest’s canopy. The Beast’s face looked even more hideous in person than it had on the cover of A Traveler’s Log: wide, flat at the top, and translucent like a fish. He opened his mouth to let out a second bloodcurdling shriek and revealed rows and rows of teeth.