She’d expected a kind of throne room, and the size met that description, along with what seemed like acres of clear glass floor. But the decor struck as simple—flowers, candles, colorful fabrics—and a throne, clear as the floor—more like an elegant chair than royal.

Then again, a chair of gold and jewels might have seemed simple compared to the woman who graced it.

She was radiant.

Topped by a diadem of jeweled glass, Titian hair spilled luxuriously over the shoulders of a white gown. The tiny clear stones scattered over it sparkled like diamonds. Perhaps they were. Her beauty stole the breath. Luminous perfection in a sculpted mouth, in vividly green eyes, and high, keen cheekbones.

When she smiled, Riley would have sworn the light shimmered.

The three goddesses stood at her right side. On her left sat a massive white wolf with eyes of bright gold.

Annika swept into a fluid curtsy. “Mother of magicks, queen of the worlds, Aegle who is radiance, we are your servants.”

“You are welcome, Children of Glass. You are welcome, Guardians of the Lights.”

She rose, glided down the three steps from the throne, crossed to them with her hands outstretched. She took Annika’s, kissed Annika’s cheeks.

“Wonder of the sea, you have our love, our thanks. Traveler of time and place.” She kissed Sawyer. “You have our love, our thanks. Child of the moon.” And Riley’s. “You have our love, our thanks. “Warrior of forever, you have our love, our thanks.”

She moved from Doyle to Bran. “Son of power, you have our love, our thanks.” And last to Sasha. “Daughter of visions, you have our love, our thanks. I would give you more than this, but your journey is not yet complete. Will you finish it?”

Sasha answered as Aegle’s hands still held hers and the words rose up in her. “We will travel the path of the gods to the circle of power, and beyond to the Tree of All Life and the stone and sword. We will fight the last battle, light against dark.

“I can’t see who wields the sword, or if the sword strikes true. I can’t see the end of Nerezza, or our end.”

“You cannot see, but you will take the journey?”

“We’ve pledged to it,” Bran answered.

“It’s an oath,” Annika added, then looked at Sawyer.

“All in.” He kissed her temple. “Ah, Your Majesty.”

“We could stay here.” Riley drew Aegle’s attention. “The guardians are on Glass, and the stars, and it’s within your power to move the island to another place, even another dimension. We could stay, potentially without interference from Nerezza for a couple of centuries. Or so I’ve read in several records.”

“You are a scholar and a seeker, and what you say is truth. Is this what you would wish?”

“No, I just wanted verification. No disrespect.”

“I would give you time. You would enjoy learning more of us, more of this world. Digging.”

“Very much. But there isn’t time, not here and now.”

“Not here and now.”

“Then we finish the journey.” Riley looked at Doyle. “So say we all?”

“We finish. My woman needs her weapons.”

Riley’s eyebrows shot up—not just at the my woman, but because he spoke in Irish.

“In the chamber you share when you return, and garb suitable for what is to come.” Aegle laid a hand on Doyle’s arm. “You have only to ask. Such is our love, our gratitude. Only ask.”

The queen stepped back. “It is our greatest hope that you will return here, victorious, and together with all of Glass, we will watch the stars shine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

As they started back, they passed servants, ladies-in-waiting, courtiers—as best Riley could figure. Each would stop, bow, or curtsy. It struck her as awkward as the dress.

“So that was our royal pep talk.”

“Wasn’t she beautiful?”

“I’ll give her that.” Riley nodded at Annika. “She lives up to her name. And she looked about what—sixteen? Had about two miles of red hair.”

“But it was like Sasha’s,” Annika said. “Like sunlight, in many braids.”

“Black.” Sawyer twirled his fingers. “Curls.”

Riley stopped on the stairs. “Red—Titian red, long and loose. Emerald green eyes. Sasha?”

“Black, but swept up. Her eyes were more like yours, Riley, but a few shades deeper.”

“All things to all people.” Riley nodded as they continued. “We saw her as we imagined her—or somewhat. You spoke to her in Irish,” she said to Doyle.

“She was speaking in Irish.”

“English and Russian,” Sawyer said.

“She spoke to me in my mind once, in the language of the merpeople.”

“Of all the strange, I guess it’s not the strangest,” Riley considered.

“And it wasn’t just a pep talk. She gave us something.” Sasha looked down at her own hand. “She gave us light. Didn’t you feel it?”

“I felt something,” Riley admitted. “Let’s hope it works.”

“We make it work. We’re ending it, and Nerezza, today.”

Riley turned to Doyle. “Sir Pessimism’s taking a turn on the Optimistic Highway.”

“She looked like you,” he said shortly.

“She what?”