“He knows about the baby?”

“He knew the night she was born, Lana. He knew the hour. He knows her name. He says he’s sworn to her. I believe him.” Simon took the shotgun from her. “But I’ll tell him to go if you don’t want to talk to him.”

“He has power,” she said. “I feel it. He’s letting me feel it so I understand he won’t use it to harm. I wish I didn’t have to talk to him. I wish she was only a baby, my baby. But…”

Lana stepped to the door, looked out. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you. Is there a place my horse can rest out of the weather? We’ve traveled a long way.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Simon brushed a hand over Fallon’s hair, ran it down to give Lana’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Nobody’s going to hurt her.”

“Bring him into the kitchen. I’ll make him something to eat.”

She heated soup, made tea, warmed bread. And steeled herself when Simon brought Mallick in.

“Blessings on you,” Mallick said. “And on the light you’ve brought to the world.”

“There’s food.”

“And kindness. May I sit?”

She nodded, but kept one arm protectively around the baby in the sling. “How do you know about my daughter?”

“Her coming has been written, sung, foretold. One year ago today, the fabric ripped, the scales tipped when the blood of the damned defiled holy ground. So the purge followed, and magick strikes back. You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Then why am I so afraid?”

“You’re a mother. What mother doesn’t fear for her child, especially one who has hints of the child’s destiny. May I eat? I’ve fasted three days in honor of The One.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Here.” Simon lifted Fallon out of the sling. She immediately babbled at him, tugging at his hair. Then she looked solemnly at Mallick.

“She still remembers some of the waiting time, and sees some of what’s to come. Knows these times as much as the here and now. You see that, too,” he said to Lana.

Heavy with the weight of destiny, Lana sat. “Is there no choice for her?”

“Oh, she’ll have many choices, as do we all. If Max had chosen to go north instead of south, if you had chosen to stay rather than to think first of the child and your friends, if Simon had chosen to turn you away, we would all be somewhere else now. Instead we’re here, and I break my fast with this excellent soup.”

He studied Fallon as he ate. “She’ll be a great beauty—that is not a choice, of course. She takes much from you, from her birth father. You’ll teach her what you know, as her life father will teach her. As will I, when the time comes.”

“You?”

“It’s my task. And my choice. Let me comfort you first. For thirteen years she will be safe. They will hunt, they will scourge the land, but they won’t find her. When you see me again, you must entrust her to me for two years.”

“I won’t—”

“It will be your choice, and hers. Two years to teach her what I know, to train her to become what she was born to be. In those years, the world will burn and bleed. Some will build, some will destroy. How much easier it is to tear apart than to mend. How many years beyond those before she’s ready, before she takes up sword and shield, I can’t see. But without her and those she leads, the suffering is endless.”

“And if we say no,” Simon demanded. “That’s the end of it?”

“You have thirteen years to weigh the choice. To prepare to make it. As does she. I have gifts for her.”

He turned his hand over, and held a pure, white candle. “Only she can light it, and it will guide her through the dark.” He set it down, once again opened his hand. Held a ball of crystal. “Only she can see what it holds, and it will show her the way.”

He set it beside the candle. “And…” He held a candy-pink teddy bear. “Because not all should be duty. I hope it brings her comfort and joy. Know she’ll have my sword, my fist, my power, always. I’m honored to be the tutor, the trainer, the protector of Fallon Swift. Thank you for the food.”

He vanished.

Simon took a full step back with the baby. “He just … Who does that? Can you do that?”

“I’ve never tried.”

“Maybe don’t. And despite the vanishing act, nobody’s going to take her if we say screw you. Nobody’s going to make us turn her over to some wizard for a couple years in some magickal boot camp.”

“I knew when I was carrying her,” Lana murmured. “She knew. Thirteen years. She’ll be safe.”

“I’ll keep her safe every day of my life.”

“I know it. I know.” She rose, turned to him. “The day she was born, I woke up and you were sleeping beside me, exhausted, and you were holding her. And I knew. You’d made her a cradle with your own hands, thinking of her even before she was born. And I knew.

“He called her Fallon Swift. Will you give her your name?”

“I … sure. I’d give her anything, but—”

“I loved Max. And she will, too. I’ll tell her everything I can about him.”

“Of course you will.”

“What led me here, Simon? Was it her?” She stepped closer, smiling when Fallon gripped her finger, tried gnawing on it. “Was it me? Was it Max, pushing me toward someone who’d love and protect? Who he could trust and respect. Maybe it was all of that. Maybe it was something in you pulling us here.

“You’re her father, too. You’re the father who walks her at night, who’ll help teach her to walk and talk. Who’ll worry about her, be proud of her. She’s so lucky to have two good men as fathers. She has Max’s name. I’d like her to have yours.”

“She’s got it.” Emotion all but drowned him. “I’m proud to give it to her.”

“Fallon Swift.” Lana lifted the chain, Max’s ring, from around her neck. “This I’ll save for her now.” She laid it beside the gifts on the table. “And this…” She drew her wedding ring off her left hand, slipped it onto her right. “I’ll wear to honor the man I loved. Can you accept that?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

He wouldn’t reach for her, she thought, wouldn’t cross that line. Because he understood honor. Because he lived honorably.

So she reached, she crossed, she touched a hand to his cheek as she rose up, leaned in, laid her lips on his. “I’m lucky to have loved and been loved by a good man. Lucky to love and be loved by another. Do you love me?”

Fallon snuggled her head on his shoulder, and Simon was lost. “I think since I caught you with an egg in your hand. I can wait,” he began, but she kissed him again.

This time, he pulled her in, the baby between them, and let himself feast.

“The year’s ending,” she told him. “The terrible, miraculous, bitter, and joyful year. I want to start the next one with you. I want to look toward all the next ones with you. I want to be your family.”

She felt the joy of it when he held her, the blessed heat of it when their lips met again. Life to be lived.

The child bounced between them, cooing. Joyful.

And waving her hand out, set the candle to flame.