“It’s a theory.”

“A good one. If there actually is a mirror, and we destroyed it—there lies her end.”

“I don’t know. What I saw . . . She destroyed the mirror. She’d hardly end herself.”

“Another mirror, another glass,” Bran suggested.

“I’ll do some digging on it.” Riley picked up her margarita again. “You said only the stars could change it. We can speculate that’s another reason she wants them so bad. There’s a way to end her—not just stop her, but end her. And if she gets the stars, the way’s done.”

“I’ll do some checking on mirror spells,” Bran added. “The stars remain first priority. Have you two chosen where we dive tomorrow?”

Doyle nodded. “We mapped out routes to three caves. We should be able to do all three, but we can hit two for certain. You’ll want to get a meal in before sunset,” he said to Riley, “so—”

“Before we get into that,” Sawyer interrupted. “And whatever else is on today’s agenda, I’ve got something I need to explain. I needed to talk to my family first. My grandfather especially.”

“Regarding the compass,” Bran said.

“Yeah, that. There’s a little more to it.” He took it out of his pocket. “Using it with a map can show you where you should go, for what you need or want. But it can do more than show you. Even without a map.”

“Like what?” Riley demanded.

“Well. Like this.” Sawyer held the compass out in his palm.

And vanished.

“What the holy fuck!”

As Riley swore, Annika jumped to her feet. “Where did he go? Where is he?”

“Up here.” Sawyer called from the terrace, waved. Then vanished only to reappear in his seat at the table.

“You’re a magician, too!”

“No. It’s the compass,” he told Annika. “It’s linked to me, yeah, but it’s the compass. I just gave it where I wanted to go—an easy one—to the terrace up there, and back here.”

“That’s more than a little.” Doyle held out a hand, examined the compass when Sawyer gave it to him. “How is it linked to you?”

“Whoever holds it can pass it to another. Not like I just did to you. It’s a formal deal. It’s mine until I pass it to the next. Traditionally a son or daughter.”

“You really save on airfare,” Riley commented.

“Ha. Yeah, it’s handy there. There’s actually a little more.” He took it back from Doyle, turned it over, ran his finger around the circumference.

A second lid opened to reveal a clockface.

“Man! You are not going to tell me it’s like a time machine.”

Sawyer gave Riley a weak smile. “Sort of.”

She leaped up, did a dance. “Oh, my Jesus, the places I could go, see. Mayans, Aztecs, Celts. The land bridge, the freaking pyramids. Where— When have you been?”

“Not that far back. Look, you’ve got to take a lot of care when you use it to time or place shift. A lot of care. Say you get an urge to watch the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. First, you’re dressed all wrong, and somebody’s going to notice. More, what if you drop down in the middle of the road and a wagon runs over you? Or you get hit by a stray bullet? Even if you live through it, you’ve changed something. And that can change something else, so when you come back it’s not exactly the way you left it. Now you’ve got to go back and fix it.”