Stars of Fortune Page 7

  Sawyer laughed over at Riley. “Alumnus of Wossamotta U. Tricks and illusions, escapes?” he asked Bran.

  “That’s right.” Bran held up a coin, turned his hand, vanished it. “It pays the bills.”

  “Very cool. So, what now?”

  “It could be we ended up here so we’d hook with you,” Riley speculated. “But you were heading in the same direction.”

  “Felt right.”

  “Yeah, it feels right.”

  “The drawing you made of the beach, the moon,” Bran said to Sasha. “It wasn’t of Sawyer, but a woman. From the back, yes, but the body type, the hair, it’s clear she’s the one in your other drawings.”

  “I’d like to see it again,” Sawyer said. “And you’ve got more?”

  Sasha rose. “Yes. I’ll get them.”

  “You’re not going to eat that?” Riley gestured to the half sandwich.

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “I can.”

  “Where do you put it?” Bran wondered. “You eat like a bird—as in triple your own weight.”

  “Fast metabolism.”

  “I’ll do my share, clear this up, while Sasha gets the drawings.” Sawyer pushed away from the table, turned to the view of the sea. “Beats the hell out of pitching a tent.”

  “I hear that,” Riley agreed, and bit into the sandwich.

  * * *

  They spent more than an hour going over the sketches, discussing theories, locations they’d tried—except for Sasha—stories they’d heard.

  Then Riley announced she was giving her brain a rest, and trying out the pool.

  “Resting the brain’s a good idea,” Bran decided. “It’s been an illuminating couple of days.”

  “I wouldn’t mind getting my bearings.” Still Sawyer picked up a sketch of the woman they’d yet to meet. “Do you think she’s really this hot?”

  “That’s how I see her.”

  “Can’t wait to meet her. I’m going to wander around.” Sawyer got to his feet again. “I like to have a better sense of where I am while I’m there. The pool looks good. Might end up there.”

  “Plenty of room. Regroup later?” Without waiting for an answer, Riley strolled back into the house.

  “It’s the first time I’ve had a team on this. It’s been interesting so far.” With that, Sawyer wandered off.

  “Your sense about him?” Bran asked Sasha.

  “Oh, Sawyer? Adores his grandfather—that’s a tight bond. Optimism. I get a strong sense of optimism, and a strong sense of purpose. I don’t like to pry,” she added, “but it seemed we should know. There’s something more to him—I don’t know what—but I didn’t get any . . . evil. I guess it’s not too strong a word, considering. I don’t get anything dark or evil. In fact, so much the opposite.”

  “You trust him.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I’m a bit slower with that than you might be, but he strikes me as true enough. And there he is, after all.” He tapped the sketch.” Well, I’m after a walk on the beach. Come with me.”

  “I haven’t even unpacked.”

  “What’s the hurry?” Smiling, Bran rose, offered a hand. “It’s just a walk down the cliff steps.”

  She should unpack, organize her tools, but she found herself putting her hand in his. “All right. I want to find some good perspectives to sketch or paint anyway.”

  “There, you’ve found your sensible reason for a walk.”

  “I think for the rest of you, adventure and risk come naturally.”

  “And you think you’re the quiet and settled sort.”

  “I am the quiet and settled sort.”

  “Not from where I’m standing. You’re the most courageous among us.”

  Stunned, she gaped at him as they circled toward the stone wall. “Courageous? Me? Where do you get that?”

  “The rest of us? We knew what we were after, and why, and why we came here. But you?” He walked to the pillars and gate, opened it. “You left your home, came all this way, not knowing. And when you saw Riley, you walked right up to her, you risked telling a stranger a story you didn’t understand yourself. That’s courage.”

  She looked at him, the dark, compelling eyes, the way the wind blew his hair around his face. And the yearning came back into her, so strong she had to look away.

  “I don’t feel brave.”

  “You don’t recognize your own bravery. That’s all it is.”

  He took her hand again, started down the rough steps.

  “They’re really steep.” And high.

  “But look where they’ll take us. I like a fine beach, though I often find myself more drawn to the forests and mountains. What are your mountains?”

  “The Blue Ridge.”

  “Lovely, are they?”

  “Yes. Lovely, and peaceful. I can’t think the last time I was at the beach. Anywhere.”

  “It can be lovely and peaceful as well. See there, that high point?”

  Her stomach jittered as he gestured toward the promontory. “Yes.”

  “And the bit of land there, the channel of water between? It’s called Canal d’Amour, that channel, and it’s said if you swim there, from one end to the other, you’ll meet the love of your life. That’s a pretty thought, isn’t it?”

  “Do you believe in that? Not the swimming part, but the love of your life part? That someone—anyone—loves for a lifetime?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “So you’re a romantic.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought. My own parents have been married over thirty years, and not just because they have four children and are used to each other. They love and enjoy each other.”

  “You have siblings.”

  “I do. A brother and two sisters, so my mother’s fond of saying, she balanced it all out well with two of each sort. And that was enough of that.”

  “It’s nice, a big family.”

  A deaf man could have heard the wistfulness, Bran thought. “It is, yes.”

  “Do you get back to see them?”

  “I do, of course, and they travel to me from time to time. We’re a noisy bunch—not quiet and peaceful at all—when we’re all together. And here we are, at the bottom.”

  She’d barely noticed the rough climb down. “You kept me talking so I wouldn’t panic.”

  “You don’t panic so easy.” The last step was a drop. Bran jumped down easily, turned to take Sasha by the waist and lift her down. Then stood, testing both of them, with his hands on her. “Do you, fáidh?”

  She knew the taste and feel of his mouth on hers, the way his hands moved on her skin, the angles of his body under her own.

  And the need to know all that outside of dreams was far too strong.

  “Maybe,” she said, and stepped away.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it.” He tapped a finger between her eyes. “Why is that?”

  “We all have secrets, and when we find the other two, they’ll have them. I guess trust doesn’t run deep enough yet.”

  “Hardly a wonder in this short a time. Well then, we’ll take what we have.”

  What they had was golden sand and blue water. People, yes, but only a few sunning under the warm spring rays or sitting under the shade of an umbrella. Some children digging with plastic shovels, others wading in the surf.

  “I expect the beaches closer to Sidari are more crowded than this, though,” Bran continued. “From what I’ve read, there’ll be plenty who’ll jump from the seawall into the canal, hoping to find their true love. That would make a fine painting, I’d think. The rock, the water, the hopeful who take the leap.”

  Intrigued by the idea, Sasha stopped, looked back. The colors, the textures, the angle of light. A figure, she imagined, poised to leap, another caught on the jump between wall and water. Perhaps one more with speared fingers just meeting the surface. She should have grabbed her sketch pad, then she could—

  She saw a flash, something shimme
ring like jewels in the sunlight sliced out of the water. An instant, an instant only of sparkle and foam, of swirling blue, then gone.

  “Did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  “In the canal. Something . . . It came out of the water, then in again.”

  “I didn’t see, but I was looking up.”

  “It was beautiful, like a sweep of jewels, just glittering in the sunlight.”

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. “The stars?”

  “No, no, it was sinuous, and alive. The movement. Some sort of fish?”

  “A dolphin maybe.” He took his hand, fisted it lightly around the hair she’d tied back, skimmed it down. “Looking for true love.”

  “A dolphin.” And the idea of a dolphin swimming the canal hoping for love made her smile. “It must’ve been. It was only a second, but it was gorgeous.” With a sigh, she walked again, with the sea air flowing around her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  She finally unpacked, and felt she’d restored some order to her world. Then she walked out on the terrace to marvel at the view that would be hers for . . . as long as it was. She hoped to see the dolphin again—it must’ve been a dolphin, and the sunlight and water that had given it the illusion of shimmering blues and greens.

  While she’d thought she’d sit out with her sketch pad on the terrace, she realized she didn’t want solitude. Instead, she took her pad and pencils and went out to look for . . . her team.

  Sawyer had called them that—a team. And she’d never been a part of one before. It felt good, even oddly comforting. Remembering, as part of that team, she was likely in charge of dinner, she went to the kitchen first to consider her options.

  She wished she knew how to make some traditional Greek meal, but failing that, she could do a pasta dish she often made herself at home, as it was quick and easy, and it appeared she had everything she needed at hand.

  Logically she’d quadruple what she normally did, but that didn’t take into account two of the four were men, and Riley ate like a starving wolf.

  “So just make a lot,” Sasha told herself. And it if didn’t work, well, someone else could be in charge of the kitchen.

  She stepped outside, just breathed in, wondered if she’d be allowed to cut some flowers for her room, for the house. She recognized lemon trees as the yellow fruit basked in the sun, and the dusky leaves of the olive, the orange trees. But others were beyond her, including the cactus with large flat leaves and gorgeous blooms.

  She took a moment to sketch one, then wandered on, past the vegetable garden, the coop where chickens clucked and pecked in their little fenced yard. Past shrubs of rosemary, toward the pool where she saw Riley and Sawyer in what appeared to be an animated conversation as they sat facing each other on white padded chaise lounges.

  The big white dog sprawled under the shade of Riley’s chair and slept.

  Sawyer wore cutoffs and a golden tan, and Riley a red tank-style bathing suit. Still talking, Riley waved at her, gestured to come on out.

  “We’re debating Khan.”

  “Genghis Khan?”

  “No. Khan Noonien Singh.”

  “I don’t know who that was—is.”

  “Star Trek.”

  “Oh. I saw the movie.”

  “The, as in singular? Which one?” Riley demanded.

  “I’m not sure. It was on cable.”

  On a sigh, Riley patted the space beside her. “Girl needs an education.”

  “Want a beer?” Sawyer gestured toward a wide stone table Sasha saw held a barbecue pit. “There’s a fridge back there. We stocked it from the kitchen.”

  “No, I’m fine. It’s wonderful out here, but it feels too cool yet for swimming.”

  “Not for hardy souls, right, Sawyer? Plus it’s solar heated.” She angled her head to look at the sketch. “Prickly pear.”

  “Is that what it is?”

  “Yeah. It should fruit in a couple months.”

  “What do they taste like?”

  “Mmm. Watermelon, sort of.”

  Sasha let out a quick laugh. “Watermelon on a cactus. As strange as mythical stars. I saw a dolphin—I think—in the water. In what Bran said they call Canal d’Amour.”

  “Going for a swim to look for your one true love?” With a quick smirk, Riley lifted her beer.

  “I don’t think so, but I may paint it.”

  “Might be fun to try it—the swim,” Sawyer explained. “We mate for life in my family, so maybe I’d run into her.”

  “Huh. Same with mine. They mate for life. Which is why,” Riley said definitely, “I wouldn’t risk the swim. I find my mate, that’s it. No more playing around.”

  She rose, stretched. “What about you, Sash? The field or the goalposts?”

  “What?”

  “Playing the field or the touchdown with love?” Sawyer interpreted.

  “I . . .” She saw Bran, in black trunks and white unbuttoned shirt, crossing the lawn. Hearts did skip beats, she thought. It wasn’t just a cliché. “I don’t really think about it.”

  “Everybody thinks about it,” Riley claimed. “I’m going back in.” She dove off the side, surfaced sleek as a seal, then rolled to float. “Hey, Irish, water’s good. Take advantage. We’ll be hunting and scouting and digging before much longer.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “And not much time for a beer by the pool.” Sawyer set his down. “I’m on pool maintenance, unless you want it.”

  “It’s all yours.” As Sawyer jumped in with Riley, Bran shrugged out of his shirt. “Can’t swim?”

  “Of course I can swim.”

  “Good.”

  He plucked her right up.

  Her utterly shocked “Don’t!” had Apollo bellying out to dance and bark.

  “Do!” Riley shouted as Sasha tried to wiggle free. “Dare you.”

  “Oh, well then, she dared me.”

  “This isn’t funny. Just—”

  Whatever she’d started to say ended on a scream as he got a running start and jumped in with her.

  She surfaced, sputtered.

  “It’s pretty funny,” Sawyer said.

  With no choice, Sasha tread water. “It’s cold!”

  “You’re just not used to it yet.” To help her along with that, Bran went under, and pulled her with him.

  “Better?” he asked when she came up again.

  “What are you, twelve?”

  “The man who loses the boy is a sad and serious man.”

  “Irish philosophy?” Sasha responded to it by shoving the heel of her hand through the water, and sending it into his face.

  Then she just sank down because it was pretty nice after all.

  * * *

  Her pasta dish turned out well, if she did say so herself. She might not want to be responsible for planning and cooking meals routinely, but there was some satisfaction in seeing the enormous amount she’d made vanish down to a small container of leftovers.

  They didn’t talk of the stars until Riley broke out a bottle of limoncello.

  “I did lunch, Sasha did dinner—and kudos on that—so I’d say you boys are on cleanup.”

  “Seems fair, and we’ll deal with that,” Bran said. “But I’d say it’s time we knuckled down a bit and got serious about why we’re all here.”

  “But we’re not all here,” Sasha pointed out. “Until we are, I don’t think we stand much of a chance of finding anything.”

  “Doesn’t mean we can’t scout the area,” Riley pointed out. “I’ve got some maps, and some ideas on that.”

  “Standing still’s doing nothing,” Bran pointed out. “If we hadn’t been moving forward, we might not have met Sawyer. And now we’re four.”

  “Like I said, this is the first time I’ve looked with a team, and the first time I’ve really felt close.” Sawyer studied the liquid in his shot glass, then knocked it back. “Nice kick. A couple of good meals, a few hours by the pool, and a kick-ass roof over
my head, that’s all pretty great. But you don’t find without looking.”

  “You got it.” Riley tossed back her shot as well, poured herself and Sawyer a second. “So I say we break out the maps first thing in the morning, make a plan, and pull on our hiking boots.” She toasted with her drink. “Time for some spelunking.”

  Noting Sasha’s expression, Bran gave her hand a pat. “Are you claustrophobic then?”

  “Not so far, but then I’ve never spent any time in caves. But I know caves make me think of bats.”

  “Bats are enormously cool,” Riley told her. “And contrary to popular belief, aren’t blind. And don’t go for your hair.”

  “She uses the form, twisting it to her needs. And the dark is hers. The dank and shadowy places, and what lives there she rules. Banished from the light, she craves it, and covets the flame. The light to extinguish, and the flame to burn until there’s nothing but the dark, and ashes.”

  Her eyes cleared, and her breath came back with a force that burned her throat.

  “Okay, wow. Are you all right?” Sawyer asked her.

  “She’ll be fine.” Bran spoke sharply as he gripped Sasha’s hand. “Look at me. Look at me now, and listen. You’re still trying to block it, and so when it comes it gives you pain. You have to stop mistrusting yourself and your gift.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Well, you have it, don’t you, so steady up.”

  “Hey,” Sawyer began, as Bran’s tone was harsh, and Sasha pale. But Riley shook her head, warned him off.