Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(129)

“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.