As the bow swung round toward the walkway and home, I faced Daniel watching my retreat. Our eyes met across the dark, flame-rippled water. He’d put his memo right into practice: make your intentions clear. I had to look away.

Not ready to take on that much. At least, not yet. Like, I hardly knew him . . .

How far would that excuse carry me? I swiveled toward Unca Joe.

“Look who’s leaving,” Breakers noted.

A brisk but silent hustle on the walkway and the sweaty sheen of torchlight on seven shaved heads announced the delegation from Revelations, long robes snarling in their sandals as they backed down the ladder into a handful of small boats ferried in from mooring.

“Figures,” she added acidly.

“Why? Don’t we like Revelations anymore?”

“Things got too lively for that bunch of teetotalers.” Rubio leaned toward me. “The Tommys brought mead!”

“Friggin’ cowards, more like,” Breakers growled.

“Yeah, that was bad.” Rubio swung a bit too wide avoiding them, then had to scramble to aim the dinghy under the farthest window arch to reach our boat dock. “Revelations thinks we should make a deal.”

“What deal?” Past Rube’s ear, I glimpsed Daniel settling into my kayak, testing its balance, hefting the paddle.

“With Bright.”

“No way! Why?”

Rube shrugged with both oars, scattering water 360. “Guess they’d rather pay to pray.”

“So we won’t be seeing them again?”

“Hard to say. They hung in longer than expected.”

“Reconnaissance.” Breakers brushed spray from her rifle stock.

Rubio rolled his eyes. “And I thought I was paranoid . . .”

“More than knives up their woolly sleeves. You’ll see.”

“Maybe.”

“I was sure everyone would be gone by now,” I said.

“Just got started!” Rubio laughed. “Mired in protocol! Like, it was noon before détente was reached on the seating pattern. Chairs and tables rearranged for two full hours! Then it was nearly three before the air was cleared of complaints and accusations, and then of course Maxine had to relate every detail of the raid. By four, they’d managed to agree on the facts of the current situation. And then . . .”

“Hard ahead!” warned Breakers, as the float came up too fast in the darkness.

I turned to catch the edge seconds before collision, then held us to the dock while the dinghy settled. Rubio paused for breath, then a cough, his oars drooping into the water.

“Shouldn’t talk and row at the same time,” I said.

“And then . . . the potluck had to be shared out equitably. Wasn’t till after dinner that any real issues got laid on the table. Then Revelations delivers their bomb, which sets everyone off again.”

“Waited till after we’d fed them,” said Breakers. “Ate more than their share.”

“And then the mead came out,” Rube added.

I grabbed the oars from his slackening grip before they floated away, and stowed them alongside. “Did they bring anything?”