Viola grabbed Barclay by his shirt and twisted him around, where two other Hooksharks barreled closer.

“We’re doomed,” Barclay moaned. So deep in the water, both of their types of Lore were weaker. He wished he could run.

The first Hookshark thrashed back at Mar-Mar, snapping its jaw to try to take a bite of the Nathermara’s tail. It missed—barely—and Mar-Mar swam back to Viola and Barclay. Barclay had never been so eager to hug Mar-Mar’s slimy skin.

“We need to get back to Munsey!” Viola shouted.

“But the Isle of Roane is right here!” Tadg said.

“How do you plan to get past the whirlpools? If you don’t take us back to Munsey right now, I will bury you in a bog!”

Tadg groaned loudly, then steered Mar-Mar around. The three Hooksharks raced toward them, knocking into one another to fight for who would get the first chomp.

“Let’s go,” Tadg told Mar-Mar.

Mar-Mar darted out of the Beasts’ paths, so quick Barclay was almost thrown off his back. Then the water around Mar-Mar began to change, swirling fast, and they torpedoed forward as though shooting through a tunnel. The Isle of Roane disappeared behind them.

NINETEEN

Trembling, the three apprentices staggered onto the beach on the Isle of Munsey.

“We need to tell Runa,” Barclay gasped, wringing the seawater out of his hair.

“But it’s so late, and…” Viola swallowed. “Shouldn’t we tell Orla first?”

Tadg glared at her. “Don’t tell me—you believe what Cyril said about Runa, don’t you?”

“N-no, of course not,” she stammered.

“I don’t get it. Ever since Midwinter you’ve been all Runa this and Runa that. You agree with everything she says. If Runa told you to eat dung, you’d run to grab a spoon. And now you suddenly believe Cyril over her?”

Viola clenched her hands. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Can you both stop fighting?” Barclay cut in. “We have enough problems without—”

“It’s not like I started it. It’s always you who starts it.” Viola jabbed her finger into Tadg’s chest.

Tadg’s nostrils flared. The water on the shoreline splashed up behind him, spraying all of them. Annoyed, Barclay wrung out his hair again.

“I could’ve gone to the Isle of Roane myself,” Tadg snarled, “but instead, I went back to save you two. I didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, you wish you’d just let us get eaten?” Viola asked.

“I wish that I’d gone alone.”

“You never would’ve found the Isle of Roane without Barclay!”

“Stop!” Barclay shouted, shoving himself between them. Barclay didn’t blame Viola for yelling at Tadg—Tadg definitely deserved it. And just because Tadg had acted nice to Barclay earlier that evening didn’t change the fact that he was grumpy, arrogant, and rude the rest of the time. But fighting wouldn’t solve anything. “You both are being—”