“And none of it would’ve happened if my friends had only been able to understand my desires, to see the future I saw. A world where Lore has no boundaries or limits. We would all have more power than we could possibly imagine.”

“That would destroy the Elsewheres,” Barclay said, horrified.

“Destroy them? No, the Elsewheres would be part of it—a world that is one great Wilderland. Even if they are consumed, it is a worthwhile price. From then on, Lore would be everywhere. And no one would be needlessly afraid.”

Barclay backed away from Keyes. “No. No. I won’t help you.”

Keyes’s face fell. “That’s a shame. We could make a great team, the four of us.” He turned to Yasha. “Bind them here.”

Barclay looked to Yasha, expecting his friend to be as shocked and horrified by this news as he was. But Yasha wore a steely grimace.

After what had happened with Abel and Ethel, Barclay should’ve understood betrayal well. Yet the truth about Yasha was an unexpected blow. Because Yasha had always known his teacher’s true identity and motives. Every night spent in the Planty Shanty, every lesson, Yasha had been lying.

Yasha reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of stones, ones Barclay had once spotted among Edwyn’s tools. He tossed them on the deck, and they moved on their own, darting like magnets. They formed a circle around Barclay and Tadg, and an iridescent dome stretched over them.

A cage.

Barclay pounded his fist on it, but the dome didn’t budge. “No! You can’t just leave us—”

“Don’t worry,” Keyes said. “Lochmordra will be in his Mark before he’s able to attack you.”

While Keyes left to climb into the rowboat, Barclay slammed on the dome once more. “Yasha! Yasha, wait! I don’t understand. Why would you—”

“I have my reasons,” Yasha said flatly.

Then he followed Keyes into the rowboat.

“No!” Tadg called after them, but they ignored him. Tadg seethed and kicked the barrier. “There has to be a way out of this.”

Barclay reached down to try to grab one of the stones, but it was as though they’d been cemented to the deck. They wouldn’t budge.

EEEEIIIIKKKKK!

Red tentacles sprang out of the water, and Lochmordra rose from the Sea. Up close and in broad daylight, he was larger and more monstrous than Barclay had ever realized. His head was long and narrow like a squid’s, and rubylike scales glimmered across his trunk. Strange markings swirled around his eyes—spirals. Etched deep into his flesh, they made him look as mysterious and ancient as the stone pillars on the island. As the Sea itself.