Barclay didn’t see how his Lore would fare any better. It wasn’t as though there was wind underneath the water.

But then he glanced behind him, back at the vents. If there were bubbles, that meant there must’ve been air.

As a test, he summoned a gentle breeze from his hand, and bubbles flitted from his fingertips. His hopes soared. He could use his Lore to propel himself forward. And Tadg’s water Lore could do the same.

They were going to win this.

The thought bolstered his mood. Even if Barclay didn’t like Cecily’s reckless, rule-breaking idea, he wanted to prove he could keep up with the other apprentices—even if he was an Elsie.

All he needed was to stop his Lore from going out of control.

Like it always did.

Barclay stretched, trying to mirror Cecily’s confidence. “I won’t be taking it easy on you, either. We’ll win this for Runa.”

Cecily looked at him curiously. “Is Runa as terrible as Cyril says she is?”

“Runa isn’t terrible at all. Is… Cyril also terrible?”

“He thinks very highly of himself, but no, I like Cyril.”

“Do you know why Runa and Cyril hate each other?”

Cecily shook her head. “Hasu said she asked once, but Cyril refuses to talk about it.”

That was no different from when they’d asked Runa in the Woods.

“What could anyone do to make someone else hate them like that?” asked Barclay.

“I don’t know. But it must’ve been something really awful.”

Her words led them into silence. Barclay sensed that Cecily was also trying to guess what that really awful thing was. The only hatred Barclay had ever known was Dullshire’s hatred of Beasts, but that was because Beasts had hurt them. He wondered if that was what happened with Runa and Cyril, if somehow one of them had hurt the other. Or maybe it didn’t always work like that.

Then a figure came hurtling down the river—Hasu. She clung to her Sunboard like a life raft as the current swept her forward. Suddenly, a golden light formed around her in the shape of a hexagon, and she vanished. She reappeared fifty feet ahead of where she’d been.

“How did she—?” Barclay started, but then Hasu reached out for Cecily and slapped her hand.

Cecily leapt into the river, clutching her own Sunboard. She waved as the stream carried her and the Beast away. “Bye, Barclay!” she called, laughing.

After another hexagon of light, Hasu and her Sunboard appeared at Barclay’s side. He yelped, a few bubbles shooting out of his Polypop. “How did you do that?”

“I have spatial Lore,” Hasu told him brightly. “I can zap myself to anyplace I’ve been before. Or that I can see. But without Bitti—she’s my Madhuchabee—I can’t go very far.”