Dr. Stryver paged through the manusccript. “The Edoans worshiped a variety of deities, the most prominent of which was Eonar, god of summer. He was said to wander the countryside in the guise of a friendly old gardener, well-rounded by plentiful food and deeply tanned. Passersby would find him working their garden or fields, after which the harvest would be unusually bountiful.”

“Does the book say anything about his eye color?” Harry asked. “Or some kind of necklace or talisman? Maybe a weapon?”

“Hmm, let’s see…usually dressed as a laborer…known to indulge heartily in wine…ah! Yes, it says that those he visited sometimes knew him by his unworldly violet eyes. And…yes! There’s mention of a sickle or scythe-shaped charm, a gift from his son Edoyar, god of he harvest.”

Harry and Kim looked at each other meaningfully.

“As for a weapon…all it mentions is that Eonar was a renowned archer.”

“There’s no doubt, then,” said Kim. “That’s he man we saw in the Dennis Fields.”

“So you’re working as a lifeguard over the summer, huh?” the girl said.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I said, sucking in my gut and hoping that the loose t-shirt I wore gave the impression of muscles lurking beneath.

“That must be hard if you can’t swim.”

“Who said I can’t swim?” I said.

“You did,” the girl purred. “To Betsy, two tables down, just a minute ago.”

My face instantly was red as a beet.

“I, uh, er…that is…um…” I sputtered.

My brain was trying to come up with something witty and subtle to say that would quickly evaporate the incident into a cloud of soft laughter. All I came up with was a sort of stutter. Doubtless, I would wake up in the middle of the night a week from now with an absolutely perfect line, but it’d do me little good now.