“That’s the second one since Spring began,” Ansley muttered, readjusting her crooked glasses.

“Are earthquakes common at the Sea?” Barclay asked.

“No,” Tadg answered.

“These are troubled times,” Ansley said. “I hope your teachers know what they’re doing. I don’t care how famous Runa Rasgar is. It’s not wise to tow a bunch of kids along on a dangerous assignment…. Oh, that’ll be the Rippleweed pots that shattered, I just know it….” With a huff, she marched down the steps.

For several moments the boys stood in ominous silence.

Then Tadg grunted, “I call the bed in the corner.”

Yasha looked at Barclay and shrugged. “I don’t care. Pick whichever you like.”

Before Barclay could choose, Root leapt onto the middle bed—choosing for him.

“You’re going to make the blankets all damp,” Barclay scolded, but Root ignored him. He nestled at the foot of the bed, gave his ears a good scratch, and closed his eyes.

Remembering his manners, Barclay tugged off the fur coat and handed it back to Yasha. “Thanks for letting me borrow this. Do you feel any better?”

“Now that I’m off the water, yes. But I’m not happy you all had to work so hard while I did practically nothing. Worse than nothing, since Ulick had to save me.”

“You can’t help that you were seasick.”

Yasha clenched his fist. “Maybe not. But I should be stronger than that. I am stronger than that.”

Barclay didn’t know what to say. It struck him as odd that Edwyn was so charming but his apprentice was so stern.

But Barclay forgot all about a response as he rifled through his satchel—all his belongings were soaked. Groaning, he dumped out everything in his bag. A soggy clump of clothes, The Nine Most Crucial Events of Lore Keeper History, and the conch toppled to the floor.

Before Barclay could hide the shell or kick it beneath his bed, Tadg snorted loudly. “You must really like that shell, don’t you? It’s no wonder you can’t use your Lore right. You pretend otherwise, but you’re still an Elsie.”

His face burning, Barclay shoved the shell back into his bag and slid into bed, damp clothes and all. He was so mortified that he regretted not being skewered by a Sleábeak.

If Yasha wanted to laugh, he hid it well. Or maybe Yasha just never laughed, same as he rarely smiled. He set out a bowl on the floor and filled it with food pellets. The sound made Root look up with interest.

“Here, Motya,” Yasha whispered, and the Beast poked her head out from beneath the bed. She crept to the food bowl, then, a moment before taking a bite, heaved out a great breath of air. The food caught fire, making Barclay and Root startle. Only then did Motya deign to touch her flambéed meal.