Bran dropped down on deck, angled his head as, behind him, Doyle pulled his knife.
“She sends this?” Dark amusement moved over Bran’s face as he studied the birds. “Her harbingers? To strike fear in us? This is what comes from her?”
Sasha turned, pressed a hand to her head, held the other out, a signal to wait. “Come and see. So it says on the book of your god. And I looked, it’s written, and behold a pale horse: And his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him. So I send a pale horse and a rider. This is your death to come. This is your hell to follow. My birds will pick clean your bones, and my dogs will lap your blood.”
She shook her head fiercely as Bran started toward her. “Wait. Wait.” Eyes shut, she breathed deep, and when she opened her eyes again, they burned like fired crystals. When she spoke, her voice came strong to echo over the water.
“And we say, you will never hold the stars. Send your horse, your rider, send your worst, and we will bear it down, all down. And you with them until you age and whither and weaken. We are your death, your destruction. Come and see!” Sasha threw her head back, shot her arms down, fingers spread. “Come and see!”
The birds screamed, spread wings, and flew toward Sasha.
Annika threw up an arm, shielding Sasha’s face, blasting out with her bracelet even as Bran threw bolts of hot blue at the remaining two.
Their bodies went to fetid black smoke.
“I hurt her.” On a shaky, bewildered laugh, Sasha once again pressed her fingers to her temple. “I hurt her. I felt her pain. I hurt her as much as, no, more, more, than she hurt me.”
; “Your nose bleeds,” Annika murmured, and dabbed gently with a towel.
“It’s okay. It’s all right.” With eyes glittering with tears and triumph, Sasha looked at Bran. “It’s all right, so’s hers. I did it.”
“Fáidh.” Overwhelmed, and not a little shaken, he pulled her to him, held her close. “A ghrá. Sit now, sit.” Even as he spoke, he drew her down to cradle her on his lap. “She needs water.”
“I’m all right.” The laugh came again, a little steadier. “Can’t you see? I’m all right. I heard her scream in pain, in fury. And maybe, yes, I could use something for the headache, but I beat her. I beat her back, Bran. I was in her head.”
“Here now, let me take this.” Gently, he laid his fingers on her temples, ran his hands over her skull. “Give me the pain, and it’s gone.”
“Drink a little.” Kneeling, Annika urged water on Sasha, then took her hand, pressed it to her cheek. “You were so strong, so brave.”
“I felt strong. I let her in. I knew it was time, knew I could do it.”
“Do you think I doubt you?” Bran kissed her. “You took a few years off my life, but I don’t doubt you.”
“She’ll come harder now.”
Riley spared Doyle a look. “And the buzzkill rides again.”
“She’ll come harder,” he repeated, “because now she knows the one she considered weak—and so did I—is so much stronger than she seems.”
“Damn skippy,” Annika said and made Riley laugh.
“You got that. So, she’s throwing Revelation at us? Four horsemen, end-of-the-world shit? She can bring it. Bran, I say you cook us up more hellfire and fucking brimstone. We’ll show her what hell is.”
“Malmon’s no pale rider.” Sawyer pulled out a Coke, tossed one to Riley, took one for himself, offered a bottle of juice to Annika. “You’re Quick Draw today,” he told her. “Anyway, Malmon’s a psychopath, a thug with money.”
“He’s more now,” Sasha reminded him.
“Whatever he is, you already said it. We’ll bear them down.” He guzzled some Coke. “Sasha Riggs, you just played mind games with a god, and won. Where are you going now?”
“I’m going to find the two remaining Stars of Fortune, then dance on a sunny beach. And we will.”
“To quote my girl here, damn skippy. But for now, I’d say diving’s done for the day.”
“I’m fine, Sawyer. Honestly.”
“Fine or not, Sawyer’s right. We’re done today.” Doyle moved into the wheelhouse.