Barclay was about to tell her how amazing her Lore sounded before he remembered that they were on opposing teams. “How far behind is Viola?”

“Not very. But her light Lore doesn’t do much underwater.”

A minute or so later, Viola appeared upstream. Barclay reached out his hand for her, and as soon as she slapped it, he grabbed his Sunboard and jumped into the river.

It didn’t feel like regular water—it was thick and mucky. All the sand and pebbles within it prickled like needles against his skin. Even so, he didn’t let go of his Sunboard. The Beast, which clearly never moved fast, seemed to be enjoying this unexpected rush of speed. Its mouth gaped open in a lopsided smile.

Once Barclay got used to the river’s current, he pointed one arm behind him and thought, Wind!

Bubbles plumed from his hand, and the Sunboard lurched forward. It rocketed around each bend in the river, smiling wider and even more lopsidedly. Barclay hollered in victory. His Lore wasn’t going out of control. He could do this.

In a matter of minutes, he caught up to Cecily.

Cecily’s eyes bulged when she spotted him. “Is that wind Lore? No fair!”

Barclay grinned as he passed her. This was almost as fun as running with Root.

But a moment later, a fork came into view up ahead. Barclay stopped using his Lore. “Which direction do we take?”

“The, um, right one!” Cecily called back.

He narrowed his eyes. Cecily was sneaky. She might purposefully give him the wrong direction so that she’d reach Tadg and Shazi first. Using his wind Lore as a brake, he slowed his pace until Cecily caught up.

“We’re taking the same direction,” he told her.

“But…” She whipped her head from side to side. “I don’t remember which direction is the right one!”

Barclay’s stomach sank. Cecily had claimed that these rivers ran all across the Sea. If they took the wrong turn, they could end up in a far-off part of the Wilderland.

“Make a guess!” He wished he’d given the map a closer look himself.

“Left!” she blurted, and the two of them swerved to the left side of the fork.

As soon as they did, the current sped up. Barclay realized it was because the ocean floor was dropping—they were hurtling down a hill.

Cecily desperately hugged her Sunboard. “I can’t—this is too fast! Help me—” Her head bobbed in and out of the sandy water.

Barclay reached out and hooked his arm around Cecily’s, propping her up. The faces of their Sunboards smooshed together. “I thought you said the river was straight all the way to the reef!”

“I thought it was!”

“Well, hold tight, okay?”

“Holding tight,” she squeaked.

Awkwardly, he lifted his hand and pointed it in front of them. Wind! he thought.