“Reading minds now?”

“No. No. I just—” She shook her head, rose. “Give me a minute.” She got up, walked out on the goat track, stared northwest. “I can see it. I don’t know if what I see is your memory of it or something to come. I don’t know if she’ll use it, but she’s not there, not now. Bats, spiders, dung in the cool and dry. But she’s not there.”

She re-angled herself, southwest. “Inside the great mountain she’ll make her palace. Those who climb on it, bask in its views, drink and dine around it are but ants to her. Less than nothing. She’ll be there, soon enough. But it isn’t the time, it isn’t the place to strike the final blow. Her weapon’s forged, but ours isn’t. We won’t end her here, but lives will end.”

Suddenly, she clutched her head in her hand.

“She feels me. Bran.”

He rushed to her, laid his hands on her head. “Block her out. You know what to do.”

“She claws at my mind. She’s so strong.”

“So are you, fáidh. Look at me, look here.”

Her eyes, full of pain, lifted to his.

“Stronger together. Pull from me.”

She nodded, drew from him, shuddered once, then just dropped her head on his shoulder. “She came in so fast. I wasn’t prepared.”

“But you blocked her, and quickly. You get better, stronger every day.” He took her back to the shade, then skimmed his hands over her water bottle to cool it. “She’ll have the time she needs to rest.”

“Just until my head clears all the way.”

“You should have water.” Annika nudged Sasha’s water bottle back on her. “Bran made it cool to drink. And this—this is the energy bar. But they don’t taste so nice.”

“No, they really don’t, but I can use the boost.”

“You were talking about Monte Solaro,” Riley said.

“If you say so.”

“That direction, great mountain. In Anacapri.”

“We’re on the Anacapri side of the island now,” Doyle told her. “But we’re one hell of a hike from Solaro.”

“Malmon won’t base there, or base any of his troops.” Clearer now, Sasha drew in a breath. “It’s for her. She’ll deck it out, probably bring Malmon there, but your cave, I think. He may use that. I might see more when we get there.”

“I can get us there.” Sawyer rubbed her knee. “It’s been a hard climb already.”

“I’m okay, really. I think I was having such a hard time because this was building up, and she was . . . scratching at me and I didn’t know what it was. I’ll make it fine.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll get you there.”

To prove she could handle it, Sasha got to her feet. “About half a mile, right?”

“About,” Doyle agreed. “You’ll make it, Blondie, or it’s double the squats tomorrow morning.”

“Hell with that.” Swinging her pack back on, she headed up the rocky track.

Annika dashed forward to walk with her. “We’re mountain goats.”

“You move like one. Nimbly.”

“I was given very good legs. You were born with yours, and they’re also very good.”

“They have muscles I didn’t know legs could have—which is something. But right now every one of them is crying, and that’s something else.”

“We should sing.”

“Sing?”

“To take your mind away from the crying muscles. I heard this from a boat when I was a little girl, and it’s fun to sing. ‘Buddy, you’re a boy make a big noise—’”

“Queen?” Sasha said with a quick laugh.

“What queen?”

“No, Queen’s the band who sang it. The name of the band.”

“But the voices I heard were men, not queens.”

“Hard to explain. Anyway, good, classic rock choice, but I don’t know all the words.”

“I do.” As Riley sang the next line, Annika laughed, joined in.

“Freddie Mercury would be proud,” Sawyer decided when they hit the chorus—words Sasha knew, and all three rocked it out.

“The sea queen had a good point. There’s a reason soldiers sing or chant on a long march.” Doyle glanced back at Bran. “She’ll make it.”

“Oh, I never doubted it.” Pride and love simply swarmed through him. “Her strength of will would carry her even when her legs tire. She’s more courage than the lot of us as she came into this with more fear and less knowledge.”

“She’s more knowledge now, because if my memory serves, she’s headed straight for the cave I’ve chosen.”

“You’ll let her keep point then, and see if she leads us to it.”

“I don’t mind bringing up the rear,” Sawyer put in. “Singing’s not the only way to distract the mind on a march.”

“It’s a fact they’re not hard on a man’s eyes on the walking away.”

“Hard to comment,” Doyle decided. “I make one on the blonde’s ass, I risk a jolt from the sorcerer. Make one on the sea nymph’s, the traveler may take a swing at me.”