Forgive us. Redeem us. Free us. Embrace us.

The deeper she dived, the deeper her eyes. The dark of depths posed no obstacle. She could see the rocks, the statues made by men, and more as she swam, the shapes and shadows of those banished, those who waited, those who pleaded.

With sigh and song.

And she felt them, the brush of fingers as she moved through them. While their sorrows weighed on her, she could only follow the sighs and the faith.

The goddess waited. White in the dark sea, her face lovely and regal, her gown flowing down. She held one hand to her skirts, and the other lifted at her side. But there was nothing in that curved palm.

Help us. See us. Restore us.

I see you, Annika thought. I see you. I hear you.

She laid her hand in the hand of the goddess, looked into those stone eyes. A statue, she thought. And it wasn’t stone and carvings that held the star.

In the water, of the water.

As she said it in her head, all that surrounded her sighed it.

In the water, of the water. As was she.

Annika spread her arms, accepted, embraced. And began to spin.

I am of the water. I am the chosen from my world. I am the guardian. I am the redeemer. I am one who seeks. I am of the water.

She repeated it over and over in her head, spun faster and faster. She felt movement above her—Sawyer, her friends.

Of the water, to bring light to the dark. Redeemer, the Water Star waits. We wait.

I am of the water. The star is of the water. The goddess is of the water. From her hand to my hand.

As she spun, faster, faster, the water brightened, the light began to glow. Soft, soft, blue. Brighter, deeper, bluer.

As she had been born to, she lifted her arms, cupped her hands together. Above them, the water spun, glittered, warmed.

Above them, the star burst bright.

She laughed, pure joy, and around her the sighs filled with tears that echoed the joy.

Arms high, she began to rise, and the songs rang, rejoicing.

He watched her, heart thudding, the image from the portrait, but more brilliant, more stunning. With the star, blazing blue in the vee of her hands.

When she reached them, she seemed to fly, a glorious bird, higher, higher. And then spilling over, came back to them.

Back to him.

She held the star out to him, like an offering.

Gently, Sawyer closed her hands around it.

He slid an arm around her waist, looked to each of his friends. Together, guided by the blue, they surfaced in the cave.

He tore away his mouthpiece. “Anni.”

And crushed his lips to hers.

“You vanished, you scared me. You’re beautiful. You’re everything.”

“I had to go deep. Didn’t you hear the songs?”

“They tore at my heart,” Sasha said.

“You should take it.” Annika held the star out to Bran.

“When we get back. You’re made of magick, Annika. And we should go back, finish this.”

“Couldn’t we just take ten? I just want to swim out, see—”

Doyle grabbed Riley’s arm before she could. “Now.”

“Now,” Sawyer agreed. “Hold on to your hats.”

It took seconds in a whirling kick that seemed to punch them out of the water and onto the floor of the villa.

“Holy shit, Sawyer.”

A little wide-eyed himself, he grinned at Riley. “What a rush! Rock-in-a-slingshot time. It must’ve been the star. Swear to God it wasn’t me.”

“It’s so beautiful.” Annika looked down at it, glinting, glimmering, madly blue in her hand.

Sawyer looked down as well, not only at the star, but at Annika who sat, tail curled under her, on the floor.

“You may want to, you know, change. And—” He grabbed her dress. “Put this on.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. It lives. It breathes.” She offered it up to Sawyer.

And it pulsed, without mass, but warm and real in his hands. “Whoa, I’ll say. Over to you.”

As Bran took it, Annika rose on her legs, shimmied into her dress. As Bran had with the Fire Star, he shielded it in a clear globe. “To protect, to respect, to shield, to hold.”

“We should do it quickly. She knows.”

With a nod at Sasha, Bran crossed to the painting. The rest gathered around him, washed in that blue light. “As before, we each lay a hand on the globe, all say the words. To protect this bright water, this pure light, I send it safe where no eye can see, no hand can touch, no darkness shadow.”

Power shimmered, swirled. The encased star pulsed its light, and that light spread over the house on the cliffs, turned the soft sky into brilliance. Then slipped into the painting. With a final flash of blue, it was gone.

“It’s quiet now,” Annika murmured. “And safe from her.”

“It will be safer—and stronger I think.” Bran held out a hand. The painting vanished. “Stronger now that two are together.”

“She’s fury.” Beside Bran, Sasha shuddered. “All fury and madness. She’ll rain fire, burn us to ash.”

“We should just go—you know—zip right to Ireland.” Glancing around, Riley shoved her wet hair back. “I’m always up for a fight, but this might be the time to retreat and regroup.”

“She’ll follow, and the fire rains there. It’s fire—I can feel the burn. It’s cold.”