“Challenge accepted.” Then she let out a long, shaky breath. “Thank God,” she said when Bran coated the wound with cool, soothing balm.

“You held up.” Doyle gave her a pat on the shoulder.

“Your turn,” Sasha told Bran.

“Give yourself a minute—and me as well.” Bran sat beside her. “And we’ll deal with each other. And when we’re done, and while we eat, I imagine Sawyer has a story to tell.”

“Believe me,” Sawyer replied. “It’s a winner.”

The kitchen held a long table, backed with benches, fronted with chairs in a wide curve of glass. They sat together, with Annika’s meal, with a loaf of brown bread and fresh butter, with beer and wine. And Sawyer’s tale.

“When I went up—hell of a boost, by the way,” Sawyer said to Bran, “she was fighting to control that three-headed dog she was on.”

“The one you shot in all three heads,” Sasha pointed out.

“Three for three.” Sawyer made a gun with his fingers, said, “Bang. And she was focused on Bran.”

“Knock out the sorcerer, knock out our magicks.” Doyle shoveled in chicken. “It’s not good, Annika.”

“Oh!”

“It’s damn good.”

She laughed, wiggled happily in her seat on the bench as Doyle scooped up more. Then she leaned her head to Sawyer’s shoulder. “You were so brave.”

“Didn’t think about it—that’s the trick. She’s got the eyeball on y’all, trying to get that beast under control. She didn’t see me coming.”

Looking down, he flexed his hand, all but healed now. “I grabbed the bitch by the hair—it was flying around, and handy. And then she saw me coming, baby, and it scared her. I could see that—we need to know that. I took her by surprise, and I saw fear. Didn’t last long, but it was there.”

“We hurt her before, in Corfu.” Bran nodded, dark eyes intense. “We beat her back, got the Fire Star, and hurt her. She should be afraid.”

“She had armor this time, so she’s no idiot. And she’s got a hell of a punch. You’ve got your lightning,” he said to Bran, “and she’s got hers.” He rubbed his chest, easily reliving the burning punch. “Nothing to do but hold on. She thought she had me, and I’ve got to say, maybe for a minute, I figured she was right. But she’d have me where we weren’t because I’d already started the shift. It got wild, really wild, but it was my thing, right? Shifting’s my thing. I know how to deal with the force of that, and she didn’t. Not so fast, so hard. She started changing.”

“Changing?” Sasha prompted.

“I had her by the hair, right? All that flying black hair. And during the shift, the color started leeching out of it. And her face did a Dorian Gray.”

“She aged.”

He nodded at Sasha. “Put on the years. For a second I thought it was my imagination, and the fact that the wind, the lights were burning the crap out of my eyes, but her face started to sag, and she’s aging right in front of me. She’s aging, and her lightning strikes barely buzz me. She’s weakening, man, and I let go. She nearly pulled me with her—she had that much left. But I pulled away, and she fell. I don’t know where the hell, but she dropped. I couldn’t get a bead because I’d about used it up by then. And I really needed to get back.”

He turned his head, kissed Annika. “I really needed to get back.”

Sasha gripped his arm. “Could it have destroyed her?”

“I don’t know, but I put a hurting on her, and that fall’s going to leave a mark.”

“According to legend, it’s a sword that brings her end.” Still, Bran shrugged. “And legends have been known to be wrong. In either case, despite cuts and bruises”—he paused to give Sasha a telling look—“we hurt her more than she hurt us. If she exists, it will take time for her to recover, and that’s advantage us.”

“We know she fears,” Doyle put in, “and her fear is another weapon against her. With all that, this doesn’t end until we have the last star.”

“So we’ll look, and we’ll find.” Bran settled back, confident and at home. “As here’s where the quest led us.”

“I believe we’ll find it—the Ice Star,” Annika said. “We found the others. But now that we’re so close, I don’t understand what we do once we have them.”

“Go where we’re led.” Bran looked at Sasha, who immediately poured more wine.

“But no pressure,” she murmured.

“Faith,” Bran corrected. “All faith. But for tonight, we’re all here, we’re safe, and we’ve had a lovely meal.”

Pleased, Annika smiled. “I made enough for Riley if she’s too hungry to wait for breakfast. I wish she’d come back.”

“She will, and soon enough.”

“I can feel her,” Sasha announced. “I can feel her now. She’s not far, but not ready to come in. She’s not far though.”

“Then we’re all safe, as I said. And though Sawyer looks better, it’s rest he needs now. I’ll show you the bedrooms, and you can choose what suits you.”

• • •

It didn’t matter to Doyle where he slept, so he chose a room at random, one facing the sea rather than the woods. The bed might have been fit for a king with its tall turned posts, but he wasn’t ready to use it.