“When we reach the whirlpools,” Ulick told them, “we’ll need to be ready. If the ship gets sucked into one, we’ll all be shark food. So I need someone up on the mast to keep watch.”

“I can do that!” Cecily said. Then she scampered up the wooden beams to the highest point of the ship. With incredible balance, she stood at the top, Ulick’s spyglass in her hand.

“And you three,” Ulick told Viola, Shazi, and Hasu. “There will be lots of the weeping tide near the Isle of Roane, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we meet more than Hooksharks out there. Can ya be ready?”

“We will be,” Shazi said, then stalked to the ship’s stern and unsheathed both her swords. She pointed one out to the horizon, as though daring a Hookshark to challenge her.

With the full force of Barclay’s wind, the ship blasted across the choppy waves at a stomach-lurching speed. Twenty minutes later, the whirlpools of Shipwreck Stretch roared in the distance. The white of the weeping tide frothed and foamed in patches across the water, and Barclay tried to ignore the fearful knot twisting in his gut. He’d heard stories of Lochmordra devouring ships whole. The Bewlah probably wasn’t even enough for a meal.

“I see the whirlpools!” Cecily called from atop the mast. “Go right! Go right!”

Ulick spun the helm, and the Bewlah lurched to the side.

“There’s something in the water!” Hasu called from where she manned Ulick’s speargun. The contraption looked comically large compared to her, clearly built for Ulick’s size. She clutched the trigger with her whole hand.

Barclay sprinted to the side of the ship. Sure enough, a large shadow lurked in the water, swimming warning laps around the Bewlah. It was shaped like a diamond, with a long, skinny tail.

“That’s a Zapray,” Viola said. “It has electric Lore, like a Nathermara.”

“Should I use the harpoon?” Hasu asked nervously.

“Save it,” Shazi answered. “Look over there.”

Up ahead, a dozen fins emerged from the waves, each one curled like a sickle.

“Hooksharks,” Barclay said hoarsely.

“Hold on tight!” Ulick called, and the Bewlah veered around its first whirlpool. The entire ship shuddered as the currents tried to drag it into their depths. “Barclay! Give us some more push!”

With one hand still braced on the port-side rail, Barclay raised the other toward the sails. Wind! he thought, and gusts sprang from his palm. The Bewlah heaved forward, tearing itself away from the grasp of the currents.

“There’s another one up ahead!” Cecily called. “No! There’s two!”

Ulick grunted and spun the wheel. The Bewlah lurched so strongly that Barclay nearly toppled to the deck.

Suddenly something knocked against the ship.

“What—?” Barclay gasped out. Then he did fall. He landed painfully on his side. Above, Cecily shrieked and clung to the mast with both arms and legs.