Finn curved an arm around my back, steering me forward. “You swim between me and Reagan, and you will be fine.”
Ahead, the others were already moving toward the shoreline.
“I can’t swim fast,” I mouthed, aware that even a whisper might be caught by their hearing.
“Do I need to carry you?” he asked quietly, entirely serious.
“No. I know how to swim. Just not well.” I’d done it only once. Why did it have to beswimming?
We reached a narrow ribbon of sand, darkened by the tide. Perhaps an hour of light remained. It would have to be enough.
“How far is the island?” Reagan asked.
“Fifty minutes of steady swimming,” Iqbal replied, as though describing a stroll.
“Are there many sirens and sea spiders here?” I asked, keeping my voice level.
“That depends on what you consider many,” Arun said. “Are you afraid of them?”
I had never seen either. I remembered Reagan and the Lord of Erisea once hunting spiders the way humans hunted rabbits. It couldn’t be that terrible.
“I’m afraid of anything that swims faster than me and considers me a meal,” I said, reaching for wit.
It worked. Wicked amusement lit Arun’s face. “I do not know how fast you swim,” he said, letting his shirt fall to the sand, “but the rest should not be difficult to satisfy.”
His words sank in. My eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Save it for the party, Arun,” Finn said, guiding me toward the water. “Take off your shoes.”
Anife had already done so, knotting her dress around her thighs. The men were bare-chested now, stepping toward the surf.
I stared at the darkening water, imagining their effortless strokes. Imagining sirens brushing past me. Imagining fabric tearing under the pull of the current.
It would be a miracle if I reached the island at all.
Chapter 30
Reagan
Reagan had expected them to toy with him the moment they set foot in this cursed land.
The last time he’d stood with these people, conversation had deteriorated as swiftly as their jests had begun. Accusations had flown from one side to the other. He still remembered Iqbal refusing Finnegan in one meeting on the grounds that he had no business learning of Banfgaard’s internal dealings. Gwinifer had threatened to send a patrol sweeping through their borders.
Jane, at least, was calm. She held herself with the same composure Finn usually had, though less so here. If their last visit had taught Reagan anything, it was that a level-headed mind was harder to train than political expertise.
Besides, she represented the hybrid-born, treated by the Order just like the elvenborn were. She represented the very kind they aimed to protect.
But none of that mattered if she felt unsafe here.
Reagan had expected the indecent clothes, had expected the lecherous greetings meant to remind him whose estate he stood in. Their first test had been whether he would comply with theircustoms. As if a few warm mouths pressed to his face were an affront.
It was nothing. But what they were forcing them to do now… It tested his patience.
He hadn’t expected a three-kilometre swim through freezing water before the welcome dinner. Worse still, they meant for the guests to fend for themselves against sirens. And of course, Arun was here, wearing that hungry expression that Reagan had to pretend not notice.
The moment he stepped into the surf, the frigid waves climbed his legs. He ground his teeth. Only Finnegan’s bloody family would greet their guests by marching them into a monster-ridden sea.
They trudged forward, the flimsy shorts already clinging to Reagan’s skin. When the water reached his groin, he sucked in a harsh breath.
