“My dad died because he got in Soren’s way when he tried to bond with Lochmordra, and Runa was my dad’s best friend. So how could they think that she would be the one behind this?” Barclay could tell Tadg was crying, and that he was probably embarrassed about it, by how he scooted farther away from the window, more into the dark. “I—I don’t want to tell her that part tomorrow. She’d only be upset.”

“You’re right. I don’t think we should.”

Barclay rifled through his belongings for his pajamas, making as much noise as he could while he did so. He didn’t think there was anything wrong about Tadg crying—Barclay liked crying, and did so quite a lot. But he knew it would make Tadg feel better if he pretended that he couldn’t hear.

When he finished and Tadg’s side of the room went silent, Barclay slid into bed.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I guess,” answered Tadg.

“A little while ago, the day we were at Trowe… you mentioned something about slaying Lochmordra. Why?”

“Because Lochmordra is a monster. Even if someone is controlling the weeping tide or causing the earthquakes or whatever, it’s not the weeping tide destroying all the islands or killing anyone. It’s him. And if he were gone for good, all of this would stop.”

“But it’s the Lore of the Legendary Beasts that maintain all the Wilderlands. Without them, the Beasts would invade everywhere. There’d be no order, or—”

“I don’t care,” Tadg snapped. “It’s not like you get it, anyway. You’re—”

“An Elsie?” Barclay finished for him. Now it was his turn to be angry. “Why do you think I didn’t want to be a Lore Keeper, at first? Eight years ago, on Midsummer, Gravaldor killed my parents. So believe it or not, I know exactly how you feel.”

“I didn’t know that—”

“It isn’t a secret. The only reason you don’t know is because you’ve never once tried to be my friend. You’re too busy being mean and angry all the time.”

Tadg didn’t speak for a long while, so long that Barclay gave up, yanked his quilt up to his ears, and tried to go to sleep. He didn’t realize until he closed his eyes how tired he was.

So by the time he heard Tadg mutter, “I’m sorry I didn’t know. And I’m sorry about your birthday, too,” Barclay was already drifting off to sleep.

The next day was a rare sunny one for the Sea. But you wouldn’t know that from the somber mood in the Guild House. Ansley might’ve kept to her seaweed tanks and craft supplies, but clearly the people of Munsey considered her a friend. The news of her possible betrayal sat well with no one.