He stared at the lemon trees as he held the towel over the pool.

“Why do women always cover their top half, and men don’t always?”

“Because we don’t have . . . and you have.”

“The breasts,” she said as she stepped out of the pool, wrapped the towel around herself. “Sometimes the maids wear shells over the breasts. But this is for fashion.”

He risked a glance, relieved she’d covered everything. “Mermaid fashion?”

“Yes. We like adornments, too. I made coffee.”

“Yeah, good. Thanks.” He picked it up from the table, took a sip. She’d made it strong enough to fight the champ, but he had no problem with that. “If you’re going to swim, you really need to wear a suit and keep your legs on.”

“I apology.”

“No. No, don’t be sorry.” He risked another look. Now she stood in the dress, long hair wet and sleek as a seal. “It’s amazing. It’s beautiful. It must feel weird for you to swim without it.”

“I like the legs.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty great. Once we score a boat, we should be able to go out far enough, or you deep enough to tail it out when you want. But in the pool, broad daylight, it’s better if you don’t.”

“For a few moments it was just morning, with the little pool of water in the sun, and the smell of the trees.”

“One day it will be just morning.”

She looked at him then, into his eyes. “You believe?”

“Yeah. I believe.”

“Then I can’t be sad. I’ll help you fix the breakfast, and I can set the table. What will you make?”

“The way we’re supplied right now? Pretty much anything. What do you want?”

“I can pick?”

“Sure.”

“Can you make—it’s not the pancakes because you . . .” She made a rolling motion with her fingers. “And put something delicious inside.”

“Crepes.”

“Yes! Can you make those?”

“You got it.”

She liked working in the kitchen. So many smells and colors and tastes. Sawyer said they’d make eggs and bacon, too, and the crepes would have peaches in them and honey over them so they’d be sweet.

She helped him mix, and he showed her how to make the crepe, let her try one all by herself. As she did, Sasha came in.

“Good timing. Everyone’s stirring around. God, it smells good in here.”

“I’m making a crepe.”

“Fancy.” Sasha walked over, put an arm around Annika’s waist, watched a moment. “And you’re doing a good job of it.”

Sasha reached for a coffee cup. “Should I set the table?”

“The table! I forgot to get the flowers. We need the plates and the glasses and the napkins, and—”

“Why don’t I take out the plates,” Sasha said.

With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Annika nodded as she carefully slid the crepe onto a plate. “Did I do it the right way?”

“Looks perfect,” Sawyer told her.

“I need to get the flowers now.”

As she dashed out, Sasha leaned back against the counter. “Never a boring tablescape with Annika.”

“Maybe you can sort of explain to her about swimming naked, at least in the daylight.”

“Was she?”

“Unless you count the tail.”

“Uh-oh.”

“No harm I could see, and she just got caught up. I think she got what I was telling her about it, but maybe, you know, another woman. I think, on Corfu, she went down to the beach early every morning, swam out, and under, way under, to give herself that . . . ritual, I guess it is. But here . . .”

“I’ll make sure she understands. Do you need any help here?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Coffee, coffee, coffee,” Riley mumbled as she staggered in. She poured a mug, inhaled the scent, took a gulp. “Bang!” she said. “That’s coffee.”

“It’ll put hair on your chest,” Sawyer said. “Oh, right, you just need the moon for that.”

“You’re a riot.” She grabbed Annika’s crepe, folded it into her mouth, said, “Good,” around it.

“Give me fifteen minutes, you’ll get better than good.”

Sasha took plates outside, came back in for glassware, got caught up in a kiss as Bran came in. By the time she went back out, Annika was at work.

She had the plates in a semicircle around a little tower of empty flower pots. From the top one spilled napkins in bright colors with folds and ripples. At the base of the flower blossoms and leaves, a few pretty stones formed a pool.

“It’s a rainbow waterfall,” Sasha guessed.

“Yes! And its water feeds the little garden. It’s water that blooms, so you can swim in the flowers.”

“That’s a beautiful thought.”

“It’s a happy place. The dark can’t go there. There should be a place, I think, where the dark can’t go.” She looked down at the bracelets circling her wrists—the magick Bran had fashioned for her. “A place where no one has to fight.”

“We’ll push the dark back, Anni. It may be all we can do, but it matters.”

“Yes, it matters. Friends matter. We friends will have a pretty breakfast on our first day of our quest for the Water Star.”