Barclay was cut off when a wave of water crashed over him, smacking him to the ground. He sputtered—the water was cold, and the salt stung his eyes. By the time he pushed himself to all fours, he saw that Root had also been caught beneath the wave. Tadg had drawn the water out of the pool, and now a rope of it twisted around him.

Tadg hurled the water at him like a whip. When Barclay dove out of its path, Tadg seized the opening and sprinted to the pool.

“Tadg!” Viola called. “You’re making a mistake!”

Wind! Barclay thought, and a funnel of air shot up from beneath Tadg. It caught him the moment after he dove but before he could reach the water’s surface. He hovered in the air, kicking and flailing wildly, a human-sized version of the shell and bottle cap that Barclay had practiced on.

Finally, Barclay threw him back against the ground. Then he lunged in front of him, blocking any other runaway attempts to the pool.

Tadg pounded his fist into the dirt. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

“Because we’re your friends,” Barclay answered coolly.

EEEEEEIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKK!

The Isle of Roane rumbled below them, the sound so loud that it drummed against Barclay’s bones. Soon Lochmordra would rise and destroy Munsey and Dunsey, and Barclay, Viola, and Tadg would be stranded—and with no way to help.

Seeming to realize this, Tadg stood up, chest heaving. He pointed his finger at Barclay, and Barclay braced himself for another bolt of lightning.

“If you won’t stop, then I’ll take you down with me.”

Then, instead of summoning Lore, he charged at Barclay. Barclay was so surprised that he didn’t have time to react. Tadg’s shoulder collided with Barclay’s stomach, and the two hurtled off the edge. They splashed into the pool—then the vortex sucked them down, down, into the heart of the Sea below.

TWENTY-THREE

Barclay and Tadg clung to each other as the whirlpool spit them out in deep, warm water. Blue Firenekkies were scattered about, illuminating a massive cavern. At its bottom, a pool of green, briny currents swirled like a cloud of mist—an underwater lake.

Already Barclay’s chest felt tight from holding his breath. But with the whirlpool above ever churning, they couldn’t escape the way they’d come.

Tadg pried himself out of Barclay’s grip and pointed below.

Two red tentacles thrashed amid the lake as white seeped over its surface. Lochmordra rose up, up, the force of his movement sending currents pushing Barclay and Tadg back against the prickly cave wall, crusted with barnacles and coral. Had it not wasted breath, Barclay would’ve screamed when Lochmordra came into full view. His eyes glowed white, and the beaklike mouth—beneath his head—opened wide as he let out a vicious scream.

EEEEEEEIIIIIIIIKKKKKKK!