“But the legend doesn’t make sense. Lochmordra has to live in the water, not on some island. So how can the island lead you to his home?”

“Can you both just shut up?” Viola snapped. “Some of us are trying to work.”

Barclay and Shazi quieted. Seeming satisfied, Viola lowered her head back to her notebook, where Barclay saw she’d already finished three whole pages. Behind her, Cecily lurked over her shoulder, copying what Viola wrote.

Barclay gaped. “But even you agreed it was the Isle of Roane.”

“Even if it was,” Viola said, “Yasha got to go with the Guardians on their work today because he’s the only one who hasn’t been spilling secrets and breaking rules.”

“We had a good reason,” Barclay argued.

“But we still got in trouble, didn’t we?”

Barclay didn’t bother bickering with her. He knew the real reason Viola was upset wasn’t because they broke the rules, but because it had been Cyril who’d punished them for it.

Suddenly a bell tolled—the same bell as when the Brutopods had attacked. They dropped their quills, splattering ink over their parchment.

“That’s the emergency bell,” Tadg said. “Something must be wrong.”

Abandoning their papers, the six apprentices scrambled to their feet and raced across Munsey. The town had fallen into chaos. People were fleeing from their homes, carrying what precious few items they could manage in their arms. Those who’d already left a devastated island had nothing else to bring.

And as for why, the answer was obvious. Even from the edges of town, they could see the white of the weeping tide looming on the horizon.

“Maybe it’s just a leftover bloom,” Barclay said anxiously. “Like when the Brutopods attacked.”

There was only one way to be sure.

They returned to the Guild House and raced up the spiral staircase. Up, up, up. Barclay, being the fastest, reached the top first, and he panted as he looked out over the tower ledge to the dark, open water.

A menacing white inked across the horizon from every direction. North, west, south, east—no matter where Barclay turned, the weeping tide was there, as though it was going to swallow Munsey and Dunsey whole.

This was no leftover bloom.

Cecily reached the tower next, shortly followed by Hasu, Shazi, and Viola.

“If Lochmordra attacks Munsey and Dunsey,” Viola said, panting heavily, “there’ll be almost none of the Sea left.”

“Would everyone have to leave?” Hasu asked. “Where would they go?”

“If the Lore Keepers left the Sea, then the Elsewheres nearby would also be in trouble,” Barclay pointed out.

“But Lochmordra might not give the Lore Keepers a choice,” Shazi said. She winced and held her hands to her ears—the bell was awfully loud.

“What do we do?” Cecily asked. “We don’t even know what direction Lochmordra will come from.”

“But we can’t just sit here and wait,” Hasu squeaked.