red to the gash—and realized everyone had stopped to look at her.
“How do you know?” Doyle demanded.
“I don’t know, but I do. I can feel her rage. And . . . she hasn’t been able, yet, to break through the shield Bran put around the house. I think she will, but not when she’s blind with anger. We have a little time.”
“You’ve connected with her. You’ve opened enough to make that connection. Be careful, fáidh,” Bran warned. “As she may feel, as you do, and do the same with you.”
“There’s only hate and anger and this terrible need. She’s mad with it.”
“Madness can still be canny,” Bran reminded her.
“She’ll come harder now.” Sawyer winced as Bran tended the gouges that scored his side. “Once she regroups. We have something she wants. She was just playing around before, giving us grief. She wanted us to find the star, because she couldn’t.”
“I’d say that’s a bull’s-eye.” Riley rose, rolled the shoulder of her injured arm, flexed her biceps. “Good job. I barely feel it.”
“We could go somewhere else.” Annika turned so Sasha could clean the wounds on her back. Mostly nicks and scratches—Bran’s bracelets worked well. “Sawyer could take us somewhere else, away.”
“I think I could. I have to admit, six people and a boat’s a first for me, but I think I could do it.”
“When the time comes I believe I can give you and your compass a boost. But . . .” Bran looked at Doyle, got a nod. “We know the ground here, and for the moment are safe. We need some time to regroup, just as she does.”
“And the star comes first,” Riley concluded. “But if we’ve got time, I want a damn beer and some food.”
She walked to the fridge, pulled out leftovers, cheese, olives. “An army runs on its stomach, right?”
“Food’s energy.” Sawyer managed a weak smile. “I don’t have much left after puking up a couple gallons of seawater, then hauling your asses and the boat.”
“I’ll make you food.” Annika took Sawyer’s hand, rubbed it against her cheek. “I didn’t get you back fast enough.”
“Anni, without you, I wouldn’t’ve gotten back at all.”
“I’ve got this.” Riley pulled bread out of a cupboard, then chips. “What I’d like is a little more detail on how a mermaid’s walking around.”
“I couldn’t tell you before.”
“I’m the last one who’d poke you on that one. But how’s it work?”
“We have magicians, too.” She smiled at Bran. “And we also look for the stars, to protect them, to one day take them back to the sky. For some, this is their purpose. So it is for my family. And in every . . . I don’t know the word. But one is chosen, and trained.”
“‘Unto every generation a Slayer is born’?”
“I do not kill.”
Now Sawyer smiled more easily. “It’s a quote. How are you chosen?”
“The Light chooses. A ceremony when we are of age. The Light is taken from its chest by the sorcerer, and it will shine on the one chosen. Then there is the choice. We force no one, so it’s a choice. I chose to accept. It’s sung that the one who seeks joins with five more who walk on the land, so the one who seeks is given the legs, and may walk on the land. But this gift must be held secret. Revealing is only allowed to protect the star, or to save a life. Once revealed, the seeker has only three turns of the moon to continue, and another must take her place.”
“What if you—we—find the stars?” Sasha asked.
“Then I can be with my family, and the stars will shine over all the worlds. No one from mine has done this, but no one until now has found the five others. And we have the Fire Star. We have to keep it safe.”
“We will.”
Bran turned to the globe he’d set on the counter, with the star shimmering inside. “I have a place where it will be safe, where she can’t reach it.”
“Not with us?” Doyle turned away from his watch. “I’m sworn to guard it.”
“As am I. If we keep it with us, we risk her getting through us—we all know she won’t stop trying just that. But if it’s not with us, even if she gets through, she won’t have it.”