Riggs burst in the front door of the farmhouse, his brothers piling in behind him.

“It was amazing,” he said to Sage, who was seated on a large cushion on the floor.

“You’re back,” she said flatly.

“Did you find out anything about the vandal?” Tansy asked.

“No, but Tansy, you have to try aikido,” Burton exclaimed. “Come over here and grab my wrist.”

“No, no,” Drago said. “We have to tell them about peace and harmony first.”

“You were at a karate class, not a UN Summit,” Tansy said.

“The art of peace is the principle of nonresistance,” Burton replied.

“The true meaning of ‘samurai’ is one who serves and adheres to the power of love,” Drago added.

“Just grab my wrist, so I can restore you to harmony,” Riggs said to Sage. “Please?”

Sage slammed her mug down on the table, not seeming to notice that tea sloshed over the sides, and leapt to her feet.

It occurred to Riggs that in his excitement, he may have failed to properly predict Sage’s reaction.

“Look,” she growled. “We have problems, real problems. And you three take off without even talking to us about it. Then you come waltzing back, spouting platitudes, asking us to grab your wrists without a care in the world. You don’t worry about the fact that you just drove a car without a license. Or that you just appeared, all three of you together, in very public place, where you might have been recognized for what you are. You put everyone in this room at risk of jail for harboring a fugitive, or worse.”

Riggs felt her words as if she had punched him in the chest.

The worst of it was that she was right. He’d been so eager to save the day, he hadn’t thought about the possible consequences of his actions.

“I-I’m sorry, Sage, I—” he began.

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad you’re sorry. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I was stupid enough to believe that a man who has only been emulating a human for a couple of months would have the common sense the good lord promised a house plant.”

The room was deadly silent.

“I’m going to bed,” Sage said.

She stalked down the hallway toward her room.

Riggs lowered himself to the sofa and rested his head in his hands.

“Riggs,” Tansy said. “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just stressed out.”

“No,” he said, straightening up. “She’s one hundred percent right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I know what you were thinking,” Arden said gently. “You were thinking that you love her and you want to protect her.”

Riggs nodded, afraid to try to speak.

“She knows that,” Tansy said, patting his back.

“I’m not so sure,” Riggs said.

“Give her time,” Tansy said. “Let her cool off, things will look better in the morning.”

He nodded, not wanting to contradict Tansy, whom he liked very much.

“I think I’ll just go for a walk before bed,” he said. “You should all enjoy your dessert. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll come with you, brother,” Burton offered brightly.

“No, thank you,” Riggs said. “I think I just need to spend some time alone.”

Burton nodded but he looked taken aback.

Riggs understood why his brother was surprised. Ever since they had begun the arduous project of moving into human forms back on Aerie the brothers had been inseparable.

He realized, ruefully, that perhaps this sudden longing for private introspection was a sign that he was becoming more human after all.

“Have a good walk.” Drago clapped Riggs on the shoulder as he headed out the door. “And come back for us if you change your mind.”

“Thank you, brother,” Riggs said.

But he was already gazing out into the starry sky over the berry fields.

The stars were so far away on this planet. Perhaps this was what made him feel so small tonight.