surface of the liquid, watched them sink beneath.
“Well, hell.” Sawyer took his combat knife, his dive knife, followed suit. And with some reservation, unholstered both his guns.
“You have to believe,” Annika commanded.
“Yeah. Yeah. Well, I’ve never believed in anybody the way I believe in the five of you. So . . .” He put his guns in the cauldron, added all his ammo.
Sasha put in her bolts. “The crossbow won’t fit all the way under.”
Bran brushed a hand over her hair. “It will.”
With a nod, she set it in, bow first, and realized she shouldn’t have been surprised when it simply slid in, vanished beneath the blue.
“Okay, here goes. You’re one hell of a wizard, Irish. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be here.” Riley added knives—three—guns—two—ammo. Then pulled out her pocket knife. “Might as well hit them all.”
“Didn’t think of that.” Sawyer added his multitool. “You never know.”
“I’ve had this sword longer than any of you have been alive. Longer than your parents and grandparents have lived. So trust me, this is faith.” Doyle lowered his blade into the cauldron, then his bow and bolts, his knives, his gun, ammo.
Finally, they added the underwater weaponry.
“It’s the clown car of cauldrons,” Sawyer decided, and made Riley hoot out a laugh.
“Here is trust,” Bran began. “Here is unity. And here is power.” He pointed at the moon. “The goddesses three created the stars. The goddesses three set us on this path. They guard, and now we guard against the dark, against all who would twist the pure into the profane.”
He lifted his other hand, began to draw it back slowly, as if pulling a great weight. As he pulled, white light spread over the blue. And now his voice reverberated, shook the air.
“In this place, in this hour, we call upon your light and power. Celene, Luna, Arianrhod, hear us, moon daughters, through air and earth and waters, and stir this brew with light, brilliant and bright. And with these weapons we employ, only evil to destroy. So pledge I, your son.”
He looked to Sasha, took her hand. “So pledge I,” she said, “your daughter.” And took Doyle’s.
So they took their oath, one by one, in a circle around the cauldron, bubbling thick and slow.
And Bran raised both arms. “As we will, so mote it be.”
Three sharp beams of light shot from the moon, arrowed into the cauldron. Sparks of it flew like stars, whirled above, dived below.
Then all went quiet.
“It’s tough not to applaud,” Riley said after a moment. “You put on a hell of a show, Irish.”
“This one took the six of us, so well done, all.”
“Yeah, everybody take a bow. Now, what do we do?” Riley wondered. “Just reach into the goo—magick goo,” she added, “and take everything out?”
Bran simply turned his palms up, raised his hands. Guns, clips, knives, bows, swords floated up.
Without hesitation, Annika reached for her bracelets. “They’re still so pretty, and don’t feel any different.”
“They will,” Bran told her, “when you need them to.”
Sawyer plucked his guns out of the air, examined them, holstered them. “That’ll be in, what, under thirty-two hours now.”
“Less, I think—feel,” Sasha added as Doyle sheathed his sword. “Less than that. They move in the dark tonight, the mother of lies and her pet. And tomorrow comes the blood. Blood in the water, and the death of men. And one of ours, one of ours, if the choice is wrong. I can’t see who. I can’t . . . It’s murky. And so clouded with pain, and fear.”
“Easy now.” Bran drew her in. “You reach too far.”
“What good is it if I can’t see?”
“You’ve seen it’s tomorrow.” Doyle hefted his crossbow. “And we’ll be ready for it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
He woke with her curled around him, so he drew in the scent of her hair, her skin with every breath.
The coming day, and all it held, was now just a subtle lessening of the dark. So he indulged himself, let himself just be. Breathing her in while his fingers tangled in the dark silk ropes of her hair, while her heart beat, slow and steady at rest, against his.
He could imagine this, waking like this, morning after morning as his life spun out into weeks and months and years. He knew all about time, what it gave, what it took, what it offered. If he could, he would have used his gift, his legacy, for time and space to take them somewhere else, some time else, where they could have this