“A theory that slides in like a key in a lock, and the compass makes the location a bull’s-eye. But,” Riley continued, “since we need to wait if we try the night dive, it wouldn’t hurt to head there. With the Fire Star, it was Sasha. It called her, we can say, pulled her.”
“Nearly drowned her,” Sawyer pointed out. “So when we do this, the rest of us watch Annika.”
“I can’t drown in the water as you can’t drown in air.”
“There are other ways to come to harm,” Bran reminded her. “If the Water Star is for you, and everything indicates it is, we’re with you.”
“It’s an honor,” Annika said slowly, “to be chosen. I don’t want to disappoint, to fail you, or my duty. If I’m meant to find the star. Will you trust me to try?”
“No question there,” Sawyer assured her. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t protect each other.”
“I understand. The . . . all for one, one for all.”
“You got it.”
“But if it’s for me, I don’t want to wear the tanks, the suit. If it can be at night, and no one will see, I want to be free in the water.”
“I’m going to vote that’s probably the way it’s supposed to be. Especially if you feel strongly about it. And it’s part of the trust,” Riley added. “Right?”
“No bubble helmet for Riley, no tanks for you.” Sawyer glanced at Bran, Doyle. “Any objections?”
“I think not, and don’t believe Sasha would have any.” As he spoke, Bran glanced up toward the terrace.
“You’re trying not to worry about her, but you are. Go check,” Sawyer suggested. “Then we’ll all stop worrying about her.”
“She’s learned control and focus so quickly, accepted as a gift what was, all of her life, a burden to her. It goes to trust, but . . .” As he couldn’t settle, Bran got to his feet. “I’ll just have a look.”
“If she must paint,” Annika said as Bran walked into the villa, “it will be something we need.”
“Odds are.” Thoughtfully, Sawyer picked up the compass, felt it vibrate softly in his hand. “And I’ve got something we could use, if it works for everybody.”
“We could gear up here,” Riley said. “And you could just zap us to the grotto after the moon. No boat needed.”
“That—and with that no patrols
wondering what a dive boat’s doing in that vicinity at night. But I’m more thinking why wait?”
“Because I’m not scuba diving in wolf form, cowboy, awesome or not.”
Sawyer simply turned the compass, revealed the watch.
“Well, shit.” On a half laugh, Riley shook her head. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Forward or back, either way, we wouldn’t have to wait to go.”
“Back. I did think of it.” Doyle shifted to give the watch a closer study. “And back far enough there’d be no patrols. When did all the tours and tickets and regulations start? You’d know,” he said to Riley.
Since it was a simple matter for her to flip through the encyclopedia in her mind, Riley shrugged. “A couple of Germans—writer and pal—visited the cave in the 1820s, guided by local fishermen. The writer wrote a book about it, and the statuary they saw. By the 1830s, it was a tourist destination. Back,” she murmured, and her archaeologist heart glowed in her eyes. “We could go back to the time of Tiberius, even Augustus, and . . . that’s not what this is about.”
She propped her elbows on the table, nested her chin in her fists. “But man, it’s cool to think about.”
“So to be safe, before 1820?”
“Yeah. And you’d probably want to avoid the French occupation, the back and forthing there, early 1800s.”
“Believe me,” Doyle confirmed. “You do.”
“You can do this?” Annika asked. “Do the travel to a different place, a different time, at once?”