“Yeah. And feel it.”
The air moved; the light changed.
“I am of the blood,” Doyle translated Bran’s words for the others. “I am of the craft. I am all who came before, all who come after. This is my pledge, this is my duty, this is my joy.”
When Bran lifted his hand, the thick lock was gone. He opened the carved cover—a flash, a snap of sound. Then silence.
“Here, all who held the book mark their name.”
“So many,” Sasha murmured as he turned the page. “Yours is the last.”
“So far.”
“Would . . . our child?”
“If the child is willing. If the child accepts.”
“A choice?”
“Always a choice. The spells are catalogued. For healing, for knowing, for protection, for deflection, for worship, and so on. If any of you have the need to find a spell, you’ve only to ask and I’ll open it.”
“The illustrations,” Sasha said as he turned a few pages. “They’re wonderful, so vibrant.”
“The book creates them. You’ll see each page bears a name. If a spell is found useful, we write it out, offer it. If the book accepts, it’s added.”
“The book accepts?”
“It has power,” he said again. “If you have need, ask.”
He closed the book, held his hand over it. The lock materialized, snapped shut.
“One day, when we’ve got plenty of time to spare, I’d like to look through it. But for now . . .” Riley turned a circle. “I think I have enough to keep me occupied.”
“For a couple of decades,” Sawyer put in.
“It’s okay if I dig in, get started?”
“Of course.” As a welcome, Bran gestured toward the fire, so flames leaped into life. “I’ll be on the third level later. There are drinks on the second level, and the makings for tea or coffee.”
“Like I said, I could live in here. I’ll get some things from my room, then start that digging. My cell phone will work in here, right?”
“Here and anywhere else.”
“Can I help you with anything here?” Sasha asked.
“Maybe, but the fact is, Doyle would be more useful.”
He didn’t look very pleased about it, but shrugged. “I’ve got some things to see to, then I can give you some time.”
“Good enough. I’ll make some calls, haul some things down here, get going. Bran?” Hands on hips, Riley turned a circle. “This rocks it.”
• • •
Before she started, Riley contacted family. She should actually call, actually speak to her family, but . . . email was quicker, simpler, and she could blast one out to everyone at once.
She’d call her parents after the moon, but she could give them and her pack details about where she was on the quest—and where she was literally—via email.
Then she scrolled through her contacts list. She needed to line up a dive boat, scuba equipment. Since both the other stars had required diving, she’d assume they’d need it.