He brought her hand to his lips. "All in a day's work for you, champ."
She laughed, but her stomach did a quick flip when Pitte lifted the Box of Souls.
"An artist, a scholar, a warrior." He set the box on its pedestal while the blue lights inside pulsed. "Inside and out, mirror and echo. Through their hearts, their minds, their valor, the last lock can be opened."
He stepped to the side, a soldier, while Rowena moved to her place to flank the box. "Please," she said to Zoe, "send them home."
Her stomach calmed, and her heart beat steady as she crossed the room. She felt the shape of the key in her hand, and its warmth as she looked at the final lock. And the lights that fluttered inside the glass like wings.
She took one long breath, held it, then slid the key into the lock and turned it.
Heat spread along her fingers. Light burst, white and pure and bright. With wonder, she watched the lid of the box fly open, saw the glass seem to explode without sound and send crystals spiraling into the air.
The three blue lights soared free, spinning, spinning into a circle linked by the blur like the tail of a comet. The air sparkled, white and blue.
Dazed, she heard Simon shout out, "Hey, cool!" and reached up, fascinated, to touch one of those whirling lights.
For an instant, it lay in her palm. The beauty of it, the joy of it rushed into her with such force, such intimacy, she was staggered.
She stared, dumbfounded, as she saw both Malory and Dana standing as she was, hands outstretched, each with a pulsing blue light cupped in her palm.
We've touched souls, she realized.
Then the lights seemed to leap, rushing in a kind of joyful madness from hand to hand, spinning flirtatiously around the men, playfully around a laughing Simon, over the heads of the dogs, before they shot to Rowena and Pitte to hover where they'd both gone reverently to their knees.
"It's so beautiful." Malory gripped Zoe's hand, reached for Dana's. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."
Once more, the three lights rose in a perfect circle, then separated and arrowed toward the portrait. And into it.
The painting shimmered, its already rich colors deepened. Zoe swore, that for just a moment, she heard three hearts begin to beat once more.
Then all was still.
"They are free." Rowena's voice trembled with tears. "They are home."
She moved to the three women. "This is a debt that can never be paid. What we give you is a token only." She stepped closer to kiss each of them on the cheek in turn. "Please, sit. I know you have much to do for tomorrow, but we still have one or two things to discuss."
"I'm not sure I can talk sensibly right now." Zoe pressed her hands to her mouth and stared at the portrait. "Or ever again."
"Champagne." Rowena threw back her head and laughed. "We'll have champagne to celebrate this great day. To celebrate our joy, and your fortune."
She spun away to fetch the flutes Pitte was already pouring. "Thanksgiving." Her face glowed as she handed out the glasses. "Oh, it's such a day for it. Life finds its way, doesn't it? And you have found yours."
"We'll get the business out of the way," Pitte began. "The funds will be transferred to your accounts immediately, as agreed."
"No." Dana sat down, sipped her champagne, and caught Zoe's smirk out of the corner of her eye as Pitte blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you want more?" In a gesture of acceptance, Rowena lifted a hand. "Don't tell me a bargain is a bargain," she said before Pitte could speak. "If they want more than the agreed-upon amount, they'll have more."
"No," Dana said again. "We don't want more. We don't want any." She jabbed a finger in the air toward Brad. "Mr. Business?"
"The parties waive payment," Brad began. Enjoying himself, loving these women. "After discussing the contractual terms, an agreement was reached, unanimously, to refuse any further monetary remuneration."
He drew forth a paper he'd written up, hurriedly, at their instructions, which they had signed. And he, Flynn, Jordan— and Simon—had witnessed. "This document, though informal, is selfexplanatory and valid."
He held it out, waited for Pitte to come over and take it.
"Payment was agreed," he began.
"That was before." Malory looked up at the portrait.
"Before we knew you, or them. When it was a kind of challenging game. We can't take money for this."
"We took the down payment," Dana put in. "And we're not giving it back because, well, it's gone." She shrugged carelessly. "But we're not going to get rich off their souls."
"The money means nothing to us," Rowena began.
"No." Zoe nodded. "But it means something to us, so we can't. Wherever we go from here, whatever we make, we'll do it on our own, and together. That's our decision and we… we expect you to honor it," she finished.
"Honor," Pitte said slowly, "is beyond price. I am humbled by yours."
"Then let's drink." Grinning, Dana lifted her glass. "It'll be the first time I ever drank to turning down a million."
Rowena walked to Zoe's side. "If I could have a moment with you, in private." She'd been waiting, and though Zoe stood, she stayed where she was. "You're going to offer me a boon, the way you did when Malory and Dana found their keys. Isn't that right?"
"Yes." Rowena quirked her eyebrows. "Here, there?"
"Yes, please."
"Very well. You know the debt is deep. As you were the last, you know most of all how deep, how impossible to pay. But whatever you want that I'm able to give is yours."
"Malory and Dana didn't ask for anything."
"No. Still—"
"But I'm going to."
"Ah." Pleased, Rowena took her hand. "What will you?"
"It seems to me that since we unlocked the box, that even if I ask for something you can't handle—"
"I can handle quite a bit," Rowena said with a laugh. "I promise you."
"But if you can't, that under the circumstances, there are others who know what happened here, what I did, and they could get it for me."
"You intrigue me." Rowena angled her head. "I believe you can have whatever you like. As I told you, our king loves his daughters and would surely repay you for all you've done. What do you wish, Zoe?"
"That you and Pitte be allowed to go home."
Rowena's fingers went limp on hers, dropped away. "I don't understand you."
"That's what I want. It's what I decided to ask for even before I knew it was what they wanted." She gestured to the portrait. "They touched us, and the six of us were like one for that moment. It's what we want."
Pitte stepped forward to lay his hand on Rowena's shoulder. "We're responsible for our own prison."
"No, Kane is," Dana interrupted. "And I like to think he's writhing in hell. Whatever part you played, you've paid for. The daughters understand that."
"You told me you weren't forgiven," Zoe continued. "But those most hurt never blamed you.
And you kept your bargain, your word, your honor for three thousand years. Whatever rules you broke were only to spare lives after Kane crossed the line. I'm asking that you not be punished for that."
"It's not something…" With a helpless look at Pitte, Rowena shook her head.
"I wouldn't argue with her." Giving Simon's hair a quick ruffle, Brad sent Zoe a warm look. "She's a very determined woman."
"And a generous one." Moved beyond measure, Rowena pressed her palm to her heart. "But we have no power for this thing you ask."
"The king does. Will he tell me no? Will he tell them no?" With her mind made up, Zoe pointed to the portrait.
"If he does, he may be a god, but he doesn't know squat about justice."
"Careful." Weakly, Pitte held up a warning hand. "Even a warrior so well proven should have care when she speaks of a king."
There were times to lay down the sword, Zoe remembered. And there were times to fight. She drew herself up. "He gave me a sword, and I used it. I fought for his children, and I helped save them."