Once Root had settled down, Barclay pulled the bottle cap Runa had given him out of his pocket. Tadg and Viola had already mastered their assignments, and Barclay didn’t want to fall any further behind. But each time he tried to make the cap hover, it sputtered off in a different direction, sending him reaching across the tabletop and floor.

On the fifth attempt, it landed in one of the girl’s laps—the slouchy girl with the magpie Beast. The bird reached down to peck it, but the girl snatched it up.

“Practicing some kind of trick?” she asked Barclay.

“Not exactly,” he muttered, reddening. Beside him, Viola jabbed him with her elbow.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked. “I know those two. That’s Conley Murdock’s son, and she’s, well…” She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think I’m her replacement.”

At this, Viola elbowed Barclay again, harder. He winced. Just because Runa and Cyril hated each other didn’t mean their apprentices had to as well. And Viola hadn’t exactly been nice to him today.

“I’m Barclay Thorne,” he told the girl. “What about you?”

“I’m Cecily Lloris. This is Oudie. He’s a Tenepie.” She pet her Beast’s shiny feathers, and Oudie’s shadow along her lap puckered up in pleasure.

The Guild House door opened, and several Guardian Keepers entered, including Orla, Runa, and Edwyn. At first they didn’t notice the newcomers, as they were deep in conversation.

“—a waste,” Orla said bitterly. “If Lochmordra rises at a different place each time, then—”

“But surely you must have some idea where Lochmordra lives?” Edwyn asked.

One of the others snorted. “Not from the Sea, are you, Lusk?” This made Edwyn’s charming smile go crooked.

“Conley…” Runa’s voice hitched, and she cleared her throat. “Conley claimed he had an idea where Lochmordra lived, but I don’t think he—”

Her voice died abruptly when she sighted Cyril by the fire. He’d stopped his pacing to face her with a lethal glare.

“What in the six lands are you doing here?” Runa hissed.

“Orla asked me here,” he answered tightly. “I wasn’t told you’d be here too.”

For several moments, the only sounds in the Guild House were the squawks of Mitzi playing with the bumblebee Beast, the clicks of Goath slithering back toward Runa, and the taps of Oudie pecking at the stale bread crumbs on the table. Barclay held his breath, bracing himself for an explosive argument, maybe even a battle—he’d heard rumors Runa and Cyril had once fought each other in an unfinished duel to the death. Around them, the other Guardians retreated awkwardly into the room’s corners. Edwyn’s face had gone weeping-tide white.

Orla, meanwhile, cleared her throat. “At my age, we know what a treat it is to see old friends—”