“Worlds.”
Smiling, he topped off her wine. “Do you ever wonder at the arrogance of men who think they alone exist in the universe?”
“Most native cultures and elemental faiths know better,” Riley commented.
“You’re a scientist.”
“I’m a digger,” she told Sasha. “And I’ve dug up enough to know we’ve never been alone. There’s a little more to the legend.”
“A bit,” Bran allowed.
“Those who seek it risk death—natch—but if they prevail, they save the worlds, which is pretty important. And each will find their own fortune.”
“Both of you believe this.”
“I believe it enough. I’ve been looking for them, off and on, for about seven years.”
“Twelve,” Bran told her. “On and off as well.”
“It’s been kind of a hobby for me, until now. Now?” Riley polished off the last of her wine. “I think it’s become my freaking mission.” She set the glass down, leaned toward Sasha. “Are we in this—the three of us?”
“Six. It has to be the six. I don’t think we’ll get far until it is.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start looking.”
“Where?”
“The mountains to the north, a lot of caves there. That might be a good place to start.”
“How do we get there?”
“I’ve got a jeep. That’ll get us somewhere. Got hiking boots?”
“Yes. I do a lot of hiking at home.”
“How about you, Irish?”
“Not to worry.”
“Great. So we’ll meet up in the morning, head out, what, about eight?”
Bran winced. “A morning person, are you?”
“I’m what I need to be.”
Sasha walked back with them to the hotel in a half daze. Too much wine, too much travel, too much stimulation. She’d sleep, just sleep, and sort the rest out in the morning, she told herself.
“What floor?” Bran asked when they stepped into the elevator.
“Third.”
“So am I.”
“And I make three on three,” Riley said.
“Naturally.” With a sigh, Sasha leaned against the wall, dug out her key.
When they got out, turned in the same direction, Sasha all but felt Fate’s sticky fingers pinching the back of her neck. She stopped at her door. “My room.”