He turned, honey bucket in hand, saw her.

“Blessed be, Mallick the Sorcerer.”

“Blessed be, Fallon Swift.” He lifted the net as he walked toward her. “You’re taller.”

“Yeah, some, but I think I’m finished.”

“There’s tea already steeped. I’d be glad for a cup, a cool one, when I’m done with this.”

She went inside, and since he’d take longer than she would, walked up to the workshop. The scents of dried herbs, crushed crystals, oils—and the overlaying tinge of magicks—were familiar.

Though she did wonder what he meant to do with the papery bat wings he had pinned to a board.

She went down, found cheese and bread, berries.

When he came in, she had the tea and a plate of food for him.

“You won’t have bread and cheese?”

“I’ve eaten. In New Hope.”

He sat, nodded. “I saw a star shoot across the sky last night, and the shower of light that rained from it. I should have expected you.”

“And I should ask how you are, how our neighbors are.”

“Well. All. And your family?”

“The same.”

“We aren’t ones for chatter, so as all are well, tell me why you’ve come.”

“I have need for you, Mallick. For you, for Thomas and his people, for the faeries and shifters, the pixies and nymphs and all the rest. The waiting time’s ended. The time of preparation’s already begun. I need your help.”

He ate in silence a moment. Did he think, she wondered, about his quiet life here? The bees, his garden, bat wings pinned to a board?

“I have been, am, always will be at your service. What do you need from me?”

“Your skills, your leadership, your gifts.” She took out a map, spread it. “I need you here.”

“What will I find there?”

“Recruits. Very raw, but willing. You’ll speak first with a man named John Little.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Though Lana called it a meeting, it struck Fallon as more of a party. People crowded in the house, filled the air with voices and laughter. Wine filled glasses; party food filled plates.

Impatience crawled up her back like a spider.

But this was the core, she reminded herself. The first of the town structure—the council, the laws and rules and communications. She needed them all, as well as those who came from them.

Rachel and Jonah—medicals—and their oldest son with his mother’s eyes, his father’s build, struck her as prime for training.

Poe and Kim—scavenging and scouting—and their oldest daughter seemed sensible and solid.

Of course Eddie and Fred, and some of their brood carried magicks.

Flynn, an elf with no mate or children, as yet anyway. Scouting, scavenging, security.

Bill Anderson, supplies and wisdom.

Arlys and Will, communications, security. A son and a daughter, but she didn’t know them or their potential as yet.

Chuck—no children or mate. Communications and technology.

Katie—organizer, town mayor. Her daughter Hannah another medical who gave off a calm, steady air, and a … goodness that reminded Fallon of Ethan.

Antonia—witch, archer, soldier. Already instructing, so that would be of use.

Then there was Duncan. She’d considered ignoring him, since he made her edgy, but that would make her reaction to him too important.

Instead, she acknowledged him with a kind of nod and shrug, and spoke to his sister. “You’re Hannah, you’re a healer.”

“I try. I’m apprenticing with Rachel at the clinic.”

“The building across the street. I need to see it.”

“Anytime. I’ll give you a tour. It’s really great to meet you. My mom’s so happy your mom’s here. We all are. Do you like the house? It’s really pretty, and you’ve got such good neighbors with Fred and Eddie and the kids.”

“It’s a good location, and the land will be useful.”

“It has a home theater, doesn’t it?” Duncan gestured with a beer. “And a house entertainment and security system. Too bad Chuck stripped all the goodies out.”

“He’ll make use of them. And my mother and I already added security. How many healers do you have?” Fallon asked Hannah.

“Rachel’s accredited twenty-three. That’s clinic and revolving staff, and field medics.”

“That’s a good number.” For now. “How many do you train in archery?” she asked Tonia.

“Varies. We do practice courses and instructional. Adult and children—under sixteen.” She bit into a little round of bread topped with a layer of thin meat, gestured with the rest of it while she spoke. “Instructional’s usually kids, unless we have a newcomer, and those are limited to groups of twelve. During the school year, I head two classes, three times a week. Summer, it’s less, but we have summer programs.”

“Why less in summer?”

“Two months off school,” Duncan told her. “For one thing, it’s too damn hot inside the academy or the civilian school for classes.”

“You could cool the air.”

He shrugged. “Kids need a break.”

“But two months without training or structure—”

He shrugged again. “It’s how we roll.”

They’d have to roll differently.

“We should show you around,” Tonia suggested. “The town, the academy, the armory, the clinic.”

“Yes, I’d like to see how it’s organized. I need to talk to Will.”

“About what?”

She looked at Duncan. “About what’s coming.”

“You think we don’t know?”

He did—she could see it on him, in him, but she eased back from that. From him. “I don’t know what you know. I’m only sure of what I do.”

She turned and walked toward Will.

“She’s—what’s the word?” Hannah wondered. “Formidable.”

“She’d better be,” Duncan muttered.

“She has to be,” Tonia corrected.

Will glanced up as she stepped in front of him, and something in her eyes made him get to his feet.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a kind of celebration, but there are things I need to tell you, plans that have to be put in place.”

“Okay. What do you say, Mayor?”

“I’d say we’re calling this meeting to order, and Fallon has the floor.”

She’d expected to talk to Will, not address the whole group at once.

“I … know that all of you are the reason New Hope exists. That it’s grown and has structure. I know you’re the reason so many have been saved from capture, from death. From all my mother’s told me, and from what I’ve seen here, I know all of you not only fought to survive, but to build something strong and safe, a place where magickals and non-magickals live and work together. It’s why, I think, this is the center.

“There are other places like this, many not like this because they lack leadership and structure. And vision. Because they’re afraid to look and to see. There’s a reason all of you came here, why my mother and birth father came here, why he died here. A reason why I knew when the time came, I’d come here, with everyone who matters to me.”

“The center of what?”

She turned to Jonah.

“Of war and peace, light and dark. Every choice you made brought you here. If you’d reached for the gun in your pocket instead of finding the strength and courage to help a woman who needed you, you wouldn’t be here. And neither would the woman you love, your children, Katie, and hers. So, that one choice, light instead of dark. The same, the very same can be said of everyone here. This is the center and another shield.”

These faces, Fallon thought, these people, her birth father had once looked at them, and trusted them.

“You’re strong, all of you, strong. You’ll need to be. Your children will need to be.”

“I’m not going to dispute you’ve got something … extraordinary,” Will began. “That extraordinary saved lives in this room twice. I was with your mom once when she had a vision, and that’s stuck with me, so I’m not going to dispute you see things some of us don’t. We’ve worked hard to make New Hope something solid and secure. We’re willing to risk our lives to save others, and fight back against the ones who for whatever damn reason want to see us in the ground or in prisons or enslaved. But the fact is, there are only so many of us, we’ve only got so many resources. We can’t take on the whole dark side of what’s left of the world.”