“Six—” Sawyer began.

“Sisters?” Riley finished.

“Yes. I am the youngest. Chantalla is the oldest, then Loreli, then—”

“You’re the seventh daughter,” Bran interrupted.

“My father says he’s cursed with girls. He’s joking,” she added.

“Your mother?” Doyle shifted around. “Does she have sisters?”

“She has six, as I have six.”

“And she’s the youngest?” Bran glanced at Doyle as Annika nodded.

“Well, kick my ass.” Riley shoved the camera back at Sawyer. “We’ve got us a seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Do you have the sight, Anni?”

“Oh, not like Sasha. I know things. Just know sometimes. I knew to be on the beach for Sawyer. To be here—this time, this place. So I came. I don’t like to fight, but I knew I would. I will. Sasha sees things that help. That warn. I only see what I’m meant to do.”

“What you see might help, too,” Sawyer told her. “You should let us know.”

“I want to help. When we find the Fire Star, it will get harder. She’ll be angry we have what she wants.”

“That’s a good bet,” Riley agreed.

“I say set the course, Doyle.” Bran’s gaze gleamed hard and bright. “And let’s see if we can really piss her off.”

* * *

They found nothing, though they pushed it to three dives. Fatigue hung over the boat like a cloud on the trip back to the marina. Sasha tried to shake it, reminding herself they’d barely begun. They weren’t likely to stumble across the prize without a lot of sweat and effort.

But the sensation of adventure had faded for the day, and only a thin shadow of dread remained.

It seemed infectious.

Sawyer toyed with his compass and brooded. Riley huddled over her logs. Even Annika had lost some of her shine and sat curled on a bench, staring out over the water.

“Your vision,” Bran said at length. “On the cliff, in the storm. Calling the storm. The lightning. Maybe it’s time.”

“No.” Panic clawed through her belly.

“You can’t let fear cloud it.”

“It does. It does, but it’s not only that. There was something urgent, immediate, even desperate in it. Beyond the danger of it, even beyond the power. It’s not for now. I don’t know when or why, but I’m sure it’s not now.”

“But you’ll say when it is?” He closed a hand over hers before she answered. “Truth, Sasha. And a promise.”

“Yes. I think you’ll know as well as I, but yes.”

That added another layer of dread as they dealt with the gear and equipment. She wanted her paints, Sasha decided. To lose herself in them for an hour. By the time Riley pulled up at the villa, Doyle roaring in behind her on his bike, she’d set plans to begin her series of local flora.

“I’m heading back to the village,” Riley announced. “I’ve got some people I want to talk to, some lines to tug.”

“I could go with you,” Annika began.