“You looked so delicate stepping off that rock,” Anife observed with delight. “Adorable.”
“Was she hiding?” Iqbal murmured behind them.
Jane reached him, and he could only meet her eyes. His hand dropped instinctively to the small of her back, a silent attempt to steady her, though it didn’t seem she needed it. She rested her hands on her hips before facing Anife.
“I wish I had been more delicate,” she said with a rueful laugh, lifting her bloody calf, “but that siren got the better of me.”
She’d gotten better at lying, albeit not to him. Still, his lips curled as he looked down at her.
“Not bad for the first time,” he murmured.
“Not bad,” Anife echoed.
“Was it your first siren?” Arun asked, and she nodded. “Welcome to Banfgaard.”
They moved further from the shore, closer to the elven gathering. Jane was still panting softly but uninjured. Her gazeslid to the shallow cuts on Reagan’s arm where claws had raked his skin. Finn bore a similar mark along his side. None were deep, though they bled enough to stain their wet clothes.
“Are you all right?” Reagan murmured.
She nodded without meeting his eyes.
Iqbal’s voice intruded once more, airy and self-satisfied. “There is only one rule for our challenges: make it to the end.”
“Don’t you think your games are becoming reckless, Uncle?” Finn asked, features tight. “Our court doesn’t blend in water.”
“Ourcourt,” Eldar repeated, the words rolling with disdain. “Your mother will love to hear that.”
The sudden stillness in Finn betrayed his unease. Reagan doubted his mother would even be here. And, at the moment, he couldn’t care less.
“I hear most men piss themselves in front of a siren,” Jane said, casual and crude.
Reagan blinked at her, unused to hearing that word from her mouth. She folded her arms over her chest, as if aware of her soaked dress clinging to her body.
Eldar chuckled, and the tension broke. Anife and Arun’s laughter followed.
Reagan had promised to try not to intervene on Finn’s behalf. She hadn’t.
Anife leaned into her brother, her drenched dress plastered to her shape. “The ocean is filled with male piss,” she observed, flicking a strand of wet hair behind her shoulder. “I would rather not dry off completely if we have a second swim.”
“We should continue then,” Eldar said.
It took Reagan a moment to register the words. He followed Eldar’s gaze to the far side of the island. The wall of trees revealed no structure, no place for dinner. Only shadowed wilderness.
“So your dinner is not here?” Reagan asked, eyeing the rocky path leading toward the forest.
“I told you it was about a fifty-minute swim,” Iqbal said. “Or it should be, if you weren’t so slow.”
Reagan realised then that they had swum only half the distance.
Beside him, Jane attempted to quiet her panting while taking in their surroundings. They stood on a small island between the mainland and the final destination. Vassar Island was still a blurred shape on the horizon.
His lungs still burned from the endless pull and kick.
“You overestimate how much I enjoy a challenge,” Reagan said. “And given that I was nearly pissing myself in front of a siren, I’m not eager to jump back in.” He decided to play along with Jane’s approach, peering down at her over his shoulder. “What do you think, Darling? They say we just need to make it to the end.”
His favourite smile spread through her heavy breathing. “I think we have tricks too.”
Power receded from his limbs. Reagan looked to Finn, who offered a quick nod. He wouldn’t come. Of course he wouldn’t.
