Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)(13)

“It’s not hard when we’re on the same page. She’s just a kid, Lana. Yeah, it was important for us to be straight and honest with her from the jump, not to wait and just spring all this on her, but she’s still just a kid. We sit her down, make sure she knows we’ve got her back on this. She doesn’t have to go.”

“We never lied to her, or kept secrets. And still, I think she’d have known even if we had. It’s in her, Simon. I felt it when I carried her. I feel it now.”

“Remember that time, her first spring? We were working in the garden. We had her napping in the shade under the old apple tree with Harper and Lee. We looked over when we heard her laughing and there must’ve been a couple hundred butterflies and—”

“Faeries, those little lights.” At the pretty memory, Lana could smile. “All dancing around her. She called them.”

“She couldn’t even walk yet. I know she’s not a baby anymore, but, Jesus, she’s only twelve years old.”

Thirteen, Lana thought. In only days now.

Absently she twisted the chain that held the medal of Michael the Archangel, which he wore around his neck. “She’s decided to go.”

“You don’t know that.”

She only spread her hand over his heart.

Under her palm, Simon’s heart tore a little. He lifted his hand to take hers.

They’d promised each other to stand united when the day came, and, whatever choice she made, to stand with Fallon.

“I guess that explains why she hasn’t been fighting with the boys. Has she talked to you about it?”

“No, not with words. I know she was born for what’s about to begin. I know it with all I am. And I hate it.” She turned her face into his throat. “She’s our baby, Simon. I hate it.”

“We can find a way to stop it, stop her.”

Lana shook her head, burrowed deeper. “It’s beyond us, Simon. It always has been. Even if we could, what happens when the boys grow up, when they need a life beyond this farm? Do we keep them here forever, like treasures caught in amber? We’ve been able to give them the life we have, to keep them safe, because of Fallon. Because we were given this time.”

“Time’s up, I get it. I know how to defend what’s mine, Lana.”

“You proved that to me before I was yours. But we can’t fight this. I’m yours.” She lifted her head to look at him, laid a hand on his cheek. “As Fallon’s yours, as the boys are. I’m not strong enough, we’re not strong enough, to face this without you. We have to let her go.” A tear spilled out. “Help me let her go.”

He shifted, sat up, gathered her close so she could weep a little. “Here’s what I know for sure. She’s smart and she’s strong and, hell, she’s fucking wily on top of it.”

Lana managed a watery laugh. “She is. She really is.”

“Between us, we’ve taught her everything we know, and she already had a pretty big leg up there, too. It’s two years.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as his heart tore a little more. “Time’s going to go fast, and she’s going to be fine. It’s like wizard boarding school, only she already knows more than Harry Potter.”

She sighed now, comforted. “Simon.”

“What do you say we make the rounds?”

“Yeah.” Lana dashed away tears, shook back her hair. “That’s a good idea.”

She thought of the house, that square, sturdy house she’d seen from the rise. How he’d opened it to her and the child she’d carried.

They’d added to it over the years—the man could build. They’d opened a wall in the living room to add space for necessities like sewing, spinning, weaving. They’d added sheep to their stock. They’d added space to the kitchen for canning, preserving. And a second greenhouse for growing through the winter.

And while they’d built, she thought as she wrapped herself in a robe, they’d filled the bedrooms with babies. That tangible proof of love and hope, those precious lights.

Together they’d built a family, and kept it safe—within that amber, she admitted. Together, they’d given their girl the best foundation they knew how to give.

Now together they walked first to the room Travis and Ethan shared. Moonlight streamed through the windows onto the bunk beds Simon had built.

Travis sprawled belly down on the top bunk, one arm flung over the edge and the soft cotton blanket she’d bartered for with two jars of pickles, made from her own cucumbers, knotted around his feet.

Though it would end up there again, she moved into the room to spread the blanket over him.

On the lower bunk Ethan slept in a cheerful puppy pile with the two young dogs, Scout and Jem. He smiled in his sleep.

“He’d have half the animals on the farm in bed with him if he could get away with it,” Simon whispered.

“Piglets,” she said, making him laugh.

“I still don’t know how he got those three piglets past both of us.”

“He has such a kind heart. And this one.” Gently, she lifted Travis’s arm back onto the bed. “He loves his pranks, but he sees so much, knows so much.”

“He’s a damn good farmer.”

She smiled, stepped back. “Like his daddy.”