Seventeen
It had started with a dare. Old Crow had a drinking horn carved from a narwhal’s tusk that he boasted about nonstop. The dare was to sneak onto his boat and steal it—temporarily, of course. They all committed to returning it. Bash had tried, Tristan had tried. A few others had tried and failed.
But Toni was the only one who had succeeded. She’d snuck out of her house late at night and swum silently through the harbor to the Ravenwing. Mission accomplished, she’d tucked the drinking horn into her underwater bag and swum to the nearest boat ramp.
But someone had spotted her.
The first thing Bash heard was splashing. There was no wind at all that night in the harbor. It was still and almost muggy inside the little furnace room at the Olde Salt. He’d propped open the door to let
