Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(57)

Sasha looked at Riley with relief. “I got the Latin right? I was afraid I’d bungle it—then I couldn’t decide at first. Gaelic, Latin, Greek. But I kept coming back to the Latin, so I went with it.”

“It’s perfect.”

“And beautiful,” Annika added. “The colors are strong, because we are. And it has six sides, because we are six. Even the . . .” When she couldn’t find the word, she traced the edge of the coat of arms.

“Border,” Sawyer told her.

“Yes, the border. It’s three strands of two—yes—braided together. Because we are. Can you make drawings—like the sketches—for us all?”

“I think I can do something else,” Bran put in. “Leave it to me. This, fáidh, is magnificent, and it’s powerful. Will you let me use it?”

“Of course.”

“You took strangers and brought them together, for purpose, for family.”

“I didn’t—”

“Your vision,” he interrupted. “And your courage. I think we’d have come together, we were meant to. But without you, not when and where we did. Or, I believe, how.”

He turned to her and kissed her gently. “I had intended to do this when we were alone. Tonight, with candles and wine under a quiet moon. But I think now, here, together.”

He reached in his pocket, took out a small white box with the symbol for eternity etched in silver on the top.

“Bran.”

“Móraí gave this to me before she left this morning. I had thought to create one for you myself, but this was her grandmother’s, created by her grandfather in love, in magick, in pledge. Will you take it, wear it, this symbol of always?”

“Yes. Of course, yes.” She took his hand. “I love you.”

When he opened the box, she gasped. The ring caught the light, showered the room with every color, before it shimmered into quiet, steady shine.

“It’s beautiful. It’s—”

Magnificent, elegant, the center stone a heart of pure white framed in tiny round diamonds that glistened like a rainbow.

“I give you this heart because you’re mine.”

“I’ll wear it because you’re mine. Oh, it fits. It fits.”

“Magick,” he said, drew her close, kissed her long.

“Okay, break it up. Let’s get a good look.” Riley snatched Sasha’s left hand. “That’s some rock. Nice,” she told Bran.

“How’s a guy supposed to follow that one?” Sawyer wondered, and gave Bran a light punch in the shoulder.

“I would like a ring from you. I’m so happy.” Tearfully, Annika embraced Bran and Sasha in turn. “I have so much happy.”

“It looks right on you.”

Sasha smiled at Doyle. “Feels even better.” Then she turned into Bran’s arms. “I have so much happy, too. And it makes me feel strong.” She drew away. “It makes me feel valiant. It makes me believe, more than ever, we’ll do what it says on our crest. We’ll seek the stars.”

“And serve the light,” Bran said.

“And guard the worlds,” the others said together.

Riley stepped back, picked up her drink. “To do those three things means fighting, surviving, and destroying Nerezza. Not just her minions and whatever the hell Malmon’s become.”

“Agreed. Since we’re all here now,” Bran began, “why don’t we sit down and talk about this last fight.”

“Do that, but give me five.” Sawyer pulled open a drawer for kitchen scissors. “I need some stuff out of the herb garden for this marinade. Didn’t realize when I decided on rack of lamb we’d be celebrating an official engagement. We’re going fancy tonight, boys and girls.”

As he went out, Riley moved into the lounge area to sit. Propped her feet on the coffee table.

“I’m always up for a celebratory meal,” she said, “but it seems particularly timely tonight.”

Sasha sat beside her. “Really?”

Catching the subtext, Riley laughed. “Yeah, we’re all having sex. Drop the confetti. What I mean was Sasha’s got a ring, we’ve got a coat of arms and a kick-ass motto. Best, we’re all alive.”

“Barely scratched,” Bran pointed out.

“They were slow and weak. Sawyer said—” Pausing, Annika glanced toward the door. “Should we wait to say—but he knows because he said. They were slow and weak.”

“I wouldn’t have thought so if it had been the first attack.” As she drank, Sasha curled up her legs. “There were so many this time, more than we’ve had before. But without the—without the same ferocity. Except toward Riley.”

“We should— Here he is,” Annika said as Sawyer came in with a basket of herbs.

“Keep it going. I’m multitasking.”

“All right. I want to say first, I didn’t sense, not initially, their focus on Riley. And when I did . . .” Sasha laid a hand on Riley’s outstretched leg, rubbed. “It was nearly too late.”

“They—or Nerezza—figured I was off my game.”

“You were,” Doyle responded, mercilessly.

She wanted to bristle, made herself shrug. “Marginally. I’d like to see you take on a few hundred mutant birds from hell all determined to slice and peck you to death.”