She put what she wanted in a tote, stepped outside. Bran stepped out on the terrace seconds after.

“I’m going for a walk,” she told him.

“I need to do the same, to gather more supplies. Would you go with me, help me with that?” He stepped toward her. “And if you could give me some time after, I’d show you how to prepare some of the ingredients. It would be a help to me.”

“Why? You’ve done fine on your own.”

“I have, and can. I’d do better with your help. You were right, everything you said. I can’t speak for the others, but I can promise you, no more secrets between us. It wasn’t trust so much, Sasha, as habit. Now I’m asking for your help, and doing what I can to get used to the asking.”

“Then it would be bitchy to refuse. I feel like I used up my daily quota of bitchy.”

“You used it well. I need a pouch and a couple of tools.”

He came back with a pouch slung over his shoulder, and the knife he’d given her before, this time in a rough leather sheath.

“I should have told you how I’d empowered it.” He snapped it on her belt. “I’ll tell you now, if she sends a different sort of attack, I can’t know if it will hold up the same.”

“If and when, we’ll find out.”

He took her hand as they started down. “You’re not afraid.”

“There’s part of me, inside, still terrified. That part wanted to cut and run screaming this morning. I’m not sure what part of me refuses to do that—but I’m trying to get used to it. Where’s everyone else?”

“Riley’s sleeping. She got little to none last night, and I think, despite the bravado, she’s worried about the ruling of this council of hers.”

“If they rule to punish her for fighting with us, they’ll have to get through us to do it.”

“And listen to you. So fierce.”

“It’s a waste of time to be mad at her, though I still am, a little. I know about having secrets, but—”

“You shared yours with her, with me. And we held back.”

“And I understand why. It still stings, but I understand.”

“It might help if I tell you when you left the table Sawyer looked thoughtful and troubled. If there’s more to him and his compass, he’s struggling over whether to tell us or not. Annika? There’s something deep there.”

“I know she’ll give us everything she can. Doyle . . .”

“Ah, Doyle. Whatever he holds, he’ll hold tight until he’s damn good and ready to loosen it. But I trust him.”

“Why?”

“He’s a warrior at the base, isn’t he? He’ll fight with his last breath, and defend those who fight beside him. And that includes a dog. He carried Apollo from the field.”

“All right.” She sighed. “All right, that’s a good reason. For now. What are we looking for out here?”