“Parents pushing for marriage,” Omar said. “Wrong girl.”

Briar nodded. “Understood.”

No further words necessary. Then the trail cut right toward the lake, revealing a view of the sirens’ island . . . or where it should be.

Omar nearly tripped over his own feet. “Whoa, look at that!” The lake shimmered in morning sunlight, but a thick mist enveloped the island.

“I’m guessing the fog is unusual,” Briar said.

“Very,” Omar said.

They both stood there, panting.

“Magical, of course,” Briar said calmly. “The island has sirens, I’ve heard.”

Omar gave his head a shake. “A friend of mine drove a ski boat to the island the other day and walked up the beach. No human has ever done that before. I’m guessing the cloud is connected to Tor’s island invasion. Sort of a message from the siren queen to keep off.”

“Took a lot of nerve to try a stunt like that.” Briar’s silvery eyes glinted as he surveyed the island. “Fantastic. That island . . . it doesn’t belong here, does it.”

“They say the siren queen moved it here from Singkiang.”

Briar shook his head in wonder. “I really want to see this place.”

“It’s off-limits to guests.”

Briar glanced at him. “We’d better get going.”

A feeling of something wrong hovered over Omar all the way to the two-mile marker and remained after they turned back. Briar was a good running partner. He talked enough, but not too much. Yet Omar sensed impending trouble, and he feared Ellie would be involved. Was Briar connected with it?

After a furtive glance at the blond prince, Omar tried to remember what he knew about Auvers. It was a wealthy land with extensive coastline and many harbors, ruled by a queen with a prince consort. He thought there was some tragic story connected with the Auvers royal family, though he might have gotten his northern countries mixed.

When it came right down to it, Omar didn’t know much about any of his summer companions. In his experience, relationships formed at Faraway Castle seldom went deep, although his sister Layla seemed happy in her marriage to a lord from El Dabaa, an ancient land far to the west of Khenifra. The two had met at the resort every summer, and somehow during the eighth year something had clicked for both of them.

Friendships were difficult enough for Omar. Romance was a greater challenge still, but he was highly motivated. If Ellie needed help or protection, he wanted to be there for her.

He and Briar sprinted the last stretch then agreed to cool down by walking to the docks and maybe even taking a plunge. Now that he’d apologized to the lake serpent, Omar thought he might take the chance.

While they paused at the picnic tables to stretch, a noise caught Omar’s attention. On the shore near the beach, someone was putting a kayak in the water. The guy climbed in, pushed off, and Omar saw him clearly.

Tor.

Taking a kayak.

To the island. The island covered in magical mist.

Omar spun toward Briar. “That’s Tor. He must be siren enchanted. We’ve got to stop him.” He took off running along the shore, shouting, “Tor, don’t do it! Wait—you don’t know what you’re doing!”

Tor heard him. He shook his head and paddled faster.

Omar stopped beside the row of upturned kayaks and stared, his mind racing. What could he do? If Tor entered that mist, would he ever return? Old legends spun through his head. Tor might go insane. He could be dragged under and drowned, or even eaten by sirens!

Briar appeared at his side. “What should we do? Was he wearing a lifejacket?”

“Yes. He swims like a fish. But the sirens . . .” He made up his mind. Turning, he gripped Briar’s forearm and pushed the button on his wristband. “That calls Ellie Calmer, the girl from the stables yesterday. She might be able to talk Tor out of the enchantment. Go back to the castle—she’ll find you. I’ll take another kayak and chase Tor down.”

He flipped one upright.

No paddle.