“We should go on down.”

“Down?” She sat up, and for the first time looked distressed.

“Downstairs,” he explained. “So you can meet the others.”

“The others, yes.” She bounced off the bed, offered her hand.

He led her out, started down the stairs while she tried to look at everything at once.

“I had the same reaction when I first got here. It’s a hell of a place.”

“Hell of a place,” she repeated, her tone awed.

When they got to the kitchen, she released his hand, ran hers over the refrigerator. “It shines.” After tugging on the handle, she let out a long ahh.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes! It’s very cold inside.”

“Professional grade. We’ve got some pasta left over from dinner. It’s good stuff.” He pulled out the container. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll heat it up.”

“Thank you very much.” She sat at the table, running her fingers over the top. “This is very pretty, too. Everything is.”

She watched him dump the pasta onto a plate, stick the plate in a microwave, punch buttons.

Before she could speak, the others came in, so she said, “Hello.”

“And then there were five,” Riley said. “Annika?”

“Yes! Hello.”

Riley reached in the wine fridge. “I guess this calls for a bottle. Riley. Riley Gwin. What’s the rest of yours?”

“The rest of mine?”

“Name. Your full name?” After a long beat of silence, Riley dug out the corkscrew. “As in first and last. Riley, first name, Gwin, last name. And we have Sasha.”

“Riggs.” Studying the newcomer, Sasha selected wineglasses. “And you met Bran.”

“And Sawyer.” Annika beamed at him.

“King.”

Her eyes went huge, her voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “You’re a king?”

As Riley snorted, Sawyer looked into those wide eyes, sea green, flecked with gold. “My last name’s King.”

“I’m Annika, first name . . . Waters, last name. Annika Waters,” she said more definitely. “Hello.”

“I think she’s a little high,” Riley said to Bran in an undertone.

“We climbed the steps to the house. It’s very high.”

“Good ears. You been doing some drugs, Annika?”

“No. Am I supposed to?”

“No.” Sasha sat across from her, set the portfolio on the table. “Where are you from?”

“My—family—we go many places.”

“Originally? Where were you born?”

“I don’t know. I was only a baby.”

Laughing now, Sawyer set the plate in front of Annika. “Got you there, Sasha.”

Annika picked up the fork, turned it to study, and very carefully stabbed a piece of penne. She slipped it into her mouth, then pressed her hands to her lips as she laughed. “Warm.” She speared a piece of cherry tomato, then a black olive. Closed her eyes a moment as she ate, then opened them, and ate more.

“It’s good stuff,” she said. She lifted the glass Riley had given her, sipped. “It’s good stuff,” she repeated. “I like wine, and this food. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sasha opened the portfolio, took out the sketch of all six, then slid it across the table.

Annika let out a delighted gasp, traced her finger over her own face, then Sawyer’s. “It’s a picture. This is I, and this is Sawyer. Riley, Sasha, Brankillian. Bran,” she corrected. “Everyone is so pretty! But this one isn’t here?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“We don’t know. Do you know him?”

She shook her head. “I like my hat. Where did I get it?”

Rolling her eyes, Riley sat. “Why are you here?”

“Sawyer brought me.”

“No, Annika, why are you here, on Corfu. Why did you come with Sawyer?”

“Because Sawyer is . . . the one who came. I’m here to help find the stars.”

“You know about the Stars of Fortune?” Bran asked.

“Yes, everyone does.”

“Everyone?” Riley demanded.

“In my . . . family. And the one who reads fates told me I would help find them. If I was—” She broke off, ate more pasta. “Willing. It’s a search. That’s not the word, but like it. It’s a . . .” She circled a finger in the air. “Qu-qu-”

“Quest?” Bran suggested.

“Yes! Thank you. It’s a quest of danger, so I must be willing. I am. I came. They must be found, and taken back.”

“Taken back?” Riley repeated. “Where?”

Annika blinked in surprise. “Why, to the Island of Glass.”

“That’s a myth.”

“I’m apology. A mist?”

“Myth. A fable,” Riley added. “Usually a traditional story regarding the history of a people, and often containing supernatural beings.”

“I like stories. May I have more wine?”

“I’ve never heard of this.” Sasha looked around. “I can see everyone else has. What is the Island of Glass?”

“A mythical island that appears when and where it wills,” Bran told her. “A place out of time. A world to itself.”

“Like Brigadoon?”

“No.” Riley shook her head. “Brigadoon appeared every one hundred years like clockwork, same place. While in Brigadoon only a day would pass. I like a good myth—obviously—and there are a lot of great stories built around the Island of Glass. But it doesn’t exist.”

“It is real. And it is always there, but only a few have seen it, only a few have been allowed. The one who reads the fates does not lie. When we find the three stars, we must take them back to the place they were born.”

“You’re saying the stars were created on the Island of Glass.” Riley narrowed her eyes.

“Yes. By the goddesses three. Celene, Luna, Arianrhod, as gifts for the new queen, who is Aegle, the radiant.”

Riley leaned back, drummed her fingers. “Where did you study?”

“I studied very hard.” Annika’s face lit like the sun. “Many places. I like to learn new things, and old things, and all things.”

“Who’s Nerezza?”

“You should not speak her name in the night.” Annika looked toward the windows. “Or risk summoning her.”

“Bunk. Who is she?”

“She is the dark one, the mother of lies. She must never have the stars. I don’t like to fight, but I would fight with you to keep them from her. We are together.” She pointed to the sketch. “And you are Sawyer’s friends, so you are mine.”

“Just like that?”

“You are very curious.” Annika leaned toward Riley. “I am very curious, too. So we will be friends. And I will help. This has been foretold.”

Riley glanced at Sasha. “I can’t piss on foretelling. But we’ll see what we see. How—”

“Riley,” Sawyer interrupted. “Give it a rest. Do you have any questions, Annika?”

“I have so many. My mother says I’m made of questions. But it’s enough to be here for now. I’m very tired. Can I sleep in the soft bed?”

“Still a couple to pick from. I’ll take you up, and you can decide which room you want.”

“I won’t sleep in your bed?”

“What? No.” Sawyer caught Bran’s amused look, rubbed the back of his neck. “Everybody gets their own room.”

“I’ll take her up.” Riley rose. “Since we’re going to be friends.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the good stuff and the wine.”

After Riley took her out, Sawyer lifted his arms. “She was just there, standing on the beach. Like in the sketch. Just there.”

“And now she’s here.” Bran looked at Sasha. “What did you read?”

“Joy. So much joy I nearly burst with it myself. And an incredible sweetness. Is she holding something back? Yes, I’m sure she is. But everything she said about the stars, about this island, she believes is truth.”

“Clearly English isn’t her first language,” Bran speculated. “But if she needs to keep where she’s from to herself for now, it’s a small thing.”

He picked up the sketch. “She’s meant to be here, with us, and so she is.”

“Five down,” Sawyer said, “one to go.”

“Let’s hope the one to go waits at least until morning. I want some sleep.” Bran turned to Sasha. “You’re tired yourself.”

“I’m not used to introductions and powwows at nearly two in the morning.”

“I’ll wash this up.” Sawyer picked up the plate. “Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”