She shifted her attention to Flynn, and her voice grew urgent. “Flynn, everything they told me, everything they told me and Dana and Zoe that first night was absolutely true. Even more amazing is what they didn’t tell us. Rowena and Pitte—teacher and warrior—they’re the figures in the background of each painting. They were there, in reality. And one of them painted both those portraits.”

“I believe you.”

Her breath shuddered out in relief at Flynn’s simple faith. “I don’t know what it means, or how it helps, but learning this—and believing it—is why I was picked. If I don’t find the key, and Dana and Zoe don’t find theirs after me, those souls will keep screaming inside that box. Forever.”

He reached out, ran a hand over her hair. “We won’t let that happen.”

“Excuse me.” Zoe hesitated at the entrance to the room. She was hard-pressed not to rub her hands over the satiny trim, or kick off her shoes to slide barefoot across the glossy floors.

She wanted to rush to the windows and study every view.

“The men outside said I should come right in. Um, Flynn? Moe’s out there rolling around in something that looks a lot like dead fish.”

“Shit. Be right back. Zoe, Brad.” And he ran outside.

Brad got to his feet. He wasn’t sure how he managed it when his knees had dissolved. He heard his own voice, a bit cooler than normal, a bit stilted, over the roar of blood in his head.

“Come in, please. Sit down. Can I get you something?”

“No, thanks. Sorry. Malory, I got your message and came right out. Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. Brad here thinks I’ve slipped a few gears, and I don’t blame him.”

“That’s ridiculous.” In her instant leap to defend, she forgot the charm of the house, the aloof charm of the man. Her cautious and apologetic smile turned into a chilly scowl as she strode across the room to Malory’s side. “And if you said any such thing, you’re not only wrong, you’re rude.”

“Actually, I didn’t get around to saying it yet. And as you don’t know the circumstances—”

“I don’t have to. I know Malory. And if you’re a friend of Flynn’s, you should know better than to upset her.”

“I beg your pardon.” Where had that stiff, superior tone come from? How had his father’s voice popped out of his mouth?

“It’s not his fault, Zoe. Really. As to being upset, I don’t know what I am.” Malory shoved back her hair and, rising, gestured toward the painting. “You should take a look at this.”

Zoe moved closer. Then clutched her throat. “Oh. Oh.” And her eyes filled with hot tears. “It’s so beautiful. It’s so sad. But it belongs with the other. How did it get here?”

Malory slipped an arm around her waist so they stood joined together. “Why do you think it belongs with the other?”

“It’s the Daughters of Glass, after the . . . the spell or the curse. The box, with the blue lights. It’s just the way you described it, from your dream. And it’s the same—the same . . . I don’t know how to say it. It’s like a set, or part of a set, painted by the same person.”

Malory glanced over her shoulder at Brad, cocked a brow.

“Are you an art expert?” Brad asked Zoe.

“No.” She didn’t bother to look at him, and her tone was flat. “I’m a hairdresser, but I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No, you meant to say. Will it help you find the key, Malory?”

“I don’t know. But it means something. I have a digital camera out in the car. Can I take some pictures of it?”

“Be my guest.” Brad jammed his hands into his pockets as Malory hurried out and left him alone with Zoe. “Are you sure I can’t get you something? Coffee?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I, ah, came in on this after the first reel,” he began. “You might give me a little time to catch up.”

“I’m sure Flynn will tell you everything you need to know.” She crossed the room, using the excuse of looking out for Malory as a chance to see the lovely river view.

What would it be like, she wondered, to be able to stand here whenever you wanted, to see the water and the light, the hills? Liberating, she imagined. And peaceful.

“Malory just told me she believes the Daughters of Glass exist, in reality. In some reality. And that the people you met at Warrior’s Peak are several thousand years old.”

She turned back, didn’t so much as blink. “If she believes that, she has good reason. And I trust her enough to believe it too. Now would you like to tell me I’ve slipped a couple of gears?”

Irritation flickered over his face. “I never said that to her. I thought it, but I didn’t say it. I’m not saying it to you either.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

“You know, I only have two feet, but I’m managing to stay on the wrong one with you.”

“Since I doubt we’re going dancing anytime soon, I’m not really worried about your feet. I like your house.”

“Thanks, so do I. Zoe—”

“I’ve done a lot of business at HomeMakers. I’ve found good values and excellent customer service in the local store.”

“Good to know.”

“I hope you’re not planning on making any major changes there, but I wouldn’t mind a little more variety on the seasonal stuff. You know, bedding plants, snow shovels, outdoor furniture.”

His lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And it wouldn’t hurt to add a couple more cashiers on Saturdays. There’s always a wait at the checkout.”

“So noted.”

“I’m starting my own business, so I pay attention to how things run.”

“Are you opening your own salon?”

“Yes.” She said it firmly, despite the way her stomach muscles clutched. “I was looking at space before I got Malory’s message to come out here.”

And why didn’t Malory come back in? She was running out of steam now that her temper had leveled off. She didn’t know what to talk about with a man who lived in a house like this, one who helped run an enormous national conglomerate. If “conglomerate” was the word for it.