Across the still grotto waters, Lir wore a black vest and a necklace made from shark teeth and fish bones. He raised his deep-green eyes to the recruits and scanned them all, probably trying to figure out who had stolen his knife and murdered Berold. It must have been one of the recruits, right? It probably hadn’t helped that Berold had rubbed his victory in everyone’s face for several hours after the last trial.
Standing by his brother’s side, Nod stroked his beard. His eyes were lined with kohl, and he wore a beaded necklace over his bronzed chest, his white shirt open nearly to his navel. “I may not have liked Berold. But all who sail on the Proserpine get a proper funeral. And one other thing. I don’t particularly fancy an assassin continuing in these trials. Some of our best recruits keep getting murdered, and I’m a little weary of it. On top of that, I don’t like all the cloak-and-dagger nonsense.”
Jacques flashed a dimpled smile. “We Guardians do our murdering where everyone can see it.”
“No secrets,” Valac added, nodding solemnly. “We kill in the daylight.”
Nod draped his arm around Lir. “My brother tells me he found the body. With his own knife in it.” Nod cracked a half-smile. “Now, I know that doesn’t look good for him, but I know my own brother. He has his faults, but he doesn’t lie.” He wagged a finger at the recruits. “No, my theory is that it was one of you.”
Ives stiffened.
To Fiona’s shock, Nod stepped onto the water, prowling across the rippling surface as though it were solid as stone.
He edged closer to Ostap, gazing deep into his eyes. “One of you is trying to eliminate the competition.” He stepped in front of Ives, staring him down, before shifting to Fiona. With his green eyes boring into her, she almost felt guilty, on the verge of a confession. I’m a murderer. Her mouth went dry, and she froze in place until he pressed on.
He sighed. “I think all of you are capable of horrible things, but I don’t know which of you actually killed Berold. Anyway. Now you know. That’s a new rule.” He turned to Marlowe. “The recruits can kill each other during trials, but they can’t assassinate each other at night. Make a note of it.”
Marlowe shoved his tricorn hat back on his head. “Any recruits caught assassinating will be executed.”
“Thrown to Dagon,” added Valac.
“Do not disobey your Captain,” Marlowe barked, his eyes intense. Of course he was loyal. Nod had always been kind to him, even when other Guardians had beat him up and pissed on him.
Nod pulled out his pipe. “The good news is, Valac doesn’t have to train him anymore, which means he can spend more time cooking for us. But the rest of you must get to work. We have another trial in a few days, and there’s a good chance someone else will die.”
Great. She hadn’t even finished learning how to swim. Lir caught her eye, and he jerked his head to the archway. Fiona slipped out of the grotto, and up the slick cliff’s edge to the island’s surface.
Lir stood in the hazy morning light, twirling a copper ring around his finger. “We’re going for a run.”
“I didn’t dress for a run.”
“Not my problem.” He took off at a slow jog through the wildflowers, and Fiona soon caught up to her mentor, her dress hiked up to her knees.
He could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.
Lir spoke without looking at her. “First, we prepare for tonight’s trial. Then while the others eat lunch, we practice swimming. And as if that weren’t enough, I need to teach you to sail in a day.”
“That’s great, but—” She scowled. “We’re skipping lunch?”
“Relax. I’ll make food. Valac isn’t the only one who knows the stew spell.” His bone necklaces bounced rhythmically off his chest. “Can you memorize information and run at the same time?”
“As it turns out, memorizing things and running are just about the only two things I can do.”
The sun climbed, the air hot and humid today. Out to sea, steam rose off the ocean waves. They’d only just begun their jog, and sweat already soaked the neckline of her woolen gown. She was half tempted to take it off. “What kind of information are we talking about?”
“You must learn how to sail. Tomorrow night, Nod will split the recruits into pairs. You’ll sail around Fiddler’s Green. You will try to wreck each other’s ships, and probably some of you will drown. It won’t be pretty.”
Fiona stumbled over a rock, struggling to keep up with Lir in her long gown. “I’m at a bit of a disadvantage when it comes to drowning.”
“You can transform and fly off if there’s time. But it will be hard to utter the spell if your mouth is full of seawater.”
“Fantastic.”
“Let’s get to work, then.”
As they ran through the tall grasses, Lir talked her through one sailing concept after another. Fiona recited them back, but her mind kept drifting back to the bloody visions Dagon had shown her on the first night. Cut from the same cloth. Was that the truth Dagon had wanted her to know? And if she died, would she be trapped with those images forever?
They slowed to a stop at the water’s edge, Lir eyeing her impatiently. “I don’t sense you’re concentrating.”
“I remember everything you said. You don’t need to worry about it.”