The Rise of Magicks Page 17

“And some others,” she continued, “including Aaron and Bryar.”

“Huh.” He considered it as he watched the—obviously by his standards—pitiful show of hand-to-hand. “Yeah, I see that. They’ve got a couple of kids, but they’d do all right. Both of them are smart, good teachers, resourceful.”

“I’d like you to go. Help secure, hold the base, train. Lead.”

He turned to her slowly. The old Colin would have leaped with a: Hell, yeah! And she could still see that in him. But over it the man he’d become studied her, took his time.

“Why?”

“Because you’re smart, a good trainer, resourceful. You’re a damn good solider, you even know some of the IT stuff. Because holding Arlington is as important as taking it. And I trust you can do it.”

“What about Travis?”

“I need him here, for now at least. I need you there.”

“Then I guess I need to pack. Except…” He rubbed his jaw. “Mom and Dad may be a problem.”

“No, they won’t. We’ve talked, and it’s your choice.”

He took another minute, looked around. “I like this place,” he told her. “I like the people. I even like the candy-ass recruits. I love the farm, you know? But I’m never going to be a real farmer.”

“You’re never going to be president, either,” she said, and made him laugh. “You’re a soldier, Colin.”

“Hey, soldiers can be president. I’ll hold Arlington for you. But one thing. What’s my rank?”

“Since when do we do ranks?”

“Since now. What’s mine?”

“How about Five-Star Dickhead?”

He gave her a light punch in the arm. “I like ME Commander.”

“ME?”

“Most Excellent.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Pick ten recruits, willing and able to go with you. If they have families, the families have to be willing to let them go or relocate with them.”

“Got it. Jesus, do you see those two? I’ve got to get back to this.” He strode away, glanced back. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know it.”

Still watching him, she mounted Grace. Then she turned the horse and rode toward New Hope.

When she rode past the community gardens, she saw groups of volunteers hoeing weeds, others harvesting vegetables and fruit into baskets woven by other volunteers and craftspeople.

Kids too young to help, or to help for long, played on swings and slides, seesaws and jungle gyms, all scavenged and repaired or built from scavenged parts. Members of what New Hope dubbed the Triple Cs—Community Child Care—kept a watchful eye.

Parents, she knew, bartered for the babysitting with other services, food, crafts. She watched a faerie, no more than three, try out her wings. One of the watchers scooped her up before she went too high or too far.

The system worked, she thought as she continued on to the clinic. Just as the bartering for medical services worked, or for the milk and eggs and butter and so on produced on farms, the wool sheared, the fabrics woven.

She’d seen it work in other communities, just as she’d seen in some the lack of center, of leadership, of structure. And in others still a subtle segregation and lack of trust between magickals and NMs.

Winning the war wouldn’t be the only challenge. Establishing that center, that structure, that trust would be its own kind of battle.

After tethering Grace, she walked into the clinic, past the waiting area—only a handful of people today—and turned to the desk.

“I need to talk to Rachel when she’s free. Hannah, too, if it’s possible.”

“Rachel’s with a patient. I think Hannah’s doing a round in maternity and peeds.” April gestured. “All the way down, turn right.”

“Thanks.”

She moved down, past exam and treatment rooms, beyond a ward—only three beds taken, a good sign. When she turned right, she heard the fretful cry of an infant, and Hannah’s soothing voice.

“Somebody wants her mama. It’s feeding time, isn’t it, sweetie?”

She turned into what had been a classroom, saw Hannah pick up a swaddled infant from one of the clear baby beds. In another, one wearing a little blue knitted cap slept on.

Across the room a woman sat in a rocking chair with a tiny baby at her breast.

Hannah cuddled the crying baby, rubbed her back as she smiled at Fallon. “Welcome to the happiest spot in the clinic. Are you looking for Rachel?”

“And you.”

“I just need to get this little darling to her mother. We’re giving our moms a rest, but somebody’s hungry. If you give me a couple minutes, I’ll track down Rachel once I get Jasmine settled.”

“Sure. I’ll walk with you.”

“Fallon Swift.” In the rocking chair, Lissandra Ye carefully shifted the baby to her other breast. “Could I speak with you?”

“All right.”

“I won’t be long,” Hannah said, and carried the baby out.

“He can only be out for short times,” Lissandra said, and glanced at the incubator. “He’s still very small. My milk wasn’t enough to help him grow, but your mother helped me, and now … he’s nearly five pounds. Rachel says he won’t need the incubator when he’s just a little bigger.”

“That’s good.” She moved closer. “He’s really pretty.”

At her words, Lissandra’s eyes filled. Tears spilled.

“I’m sorry.” Fallon pulled over a second chair, laid a hand on Lissandra’s arm. “You’re worried, but he’s in good hands here.”

“I know that. I trust that. At first, I didn’t believe he’d live. He was so tiny. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I’m ashamed of that.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“He’s mine, you see? He’s mine, but … It wasn’t only one who raped me, and it wasn’t only once. I couldn’t fight back. They gave us drugs so we couldn’t fight, but I could feel, and see. They let the guards have us when they wanted.”

Fallon had heard similar stories before, too many times before. But those stories never lost the ability to shock and enrage.

“You’re safe now. Do you talk to the counselors here?”

“Yes, yes. It wasn’t just the guards. The Torturer. The Dark Uncanny in the lab. He…”

Understanding now, Fallon sat back. “You’re worried he might be the one, that his blood is in your son.”

“He’s mine.” Even through the tears she said it fiercely. “I named him for the man who died trying to save me. Brennan. He’s my child, and no matter what, I love him. I thought I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, but he’s my son. But I have to know. If he carries the dark in him, I have to know so I can help him fight it. Please, you can see. You can see and know, and tell me.”

“The dark’s a choice, Lissandra, just as the light’s a choice.”

“Please.” The child lay quiet, his mouth slack as the milk and warmth lulled him to sleep. With eyes filled with hope and tears, Lissandra held him out to Fallon. “Please.”

What torment had the woman endured already? And how much more would she endure without answers, without the comfort of them?

So Fallon took the child. Her brothers, she recalled, had seemed so tiny to her at their births. But compared to Lissandra’s son, they’d been robust.

“Brennan,” she whispered, “son of Lissandra. I see you.”

She looked at him, looked into him, laid a hand on his chest where his heart beat under her palm.

“I see the light in you.” Lowering her head, she brushed her lips over his downy head. “I see you.”

With a smile, she looked back at Lissandra. “This is your son, and he holds light.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I swear it. He’s innocent, as you are. Innocent, and he’s your son. He’s your cub.”

Now joy glimmered through the tears. “He’s … like me?”

“Yes.”

“Would you bless him?”

“I don’t—”

“Please.”

“Ah…” Following instinct, Fallon touched her fingers to the baby’s head, his lips, and again his heart. “Bright blessings on you, Brennan, son of Lissandra.” She repeated the words in Mandarin.

Now Lissandra smiled. “I haven’t heard anyone speak Mandarin since my grandmother died. Thank you, more than I can say.” Lissandra took the child back, rocked. “More than I can say. You’ve been blessed by The One,” she murmured.

As Fallon rose, Rachel stepped in. “Give him a little skin-to-skin time, Lissandra, then you can change him before we put him back.”

“He nursed really well.”

“We’ll weigh him a little later, but I think maybe tomorrow he can go into a regular crib.”

“Did you hear that, baby? You’re going to graduate.”

“One of the nurses will be in to help you.”

Lissandra nodded, but looked at Fallon. “I can fight. I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight for him.”

“I’ll fight for him,” Fallon told her. “He needs you to tend to him. I’ll see you both again.”

She walked out with Rachel to where Hannah waited in the doorway.

“That mattered as much as any care we’ve been able to give them.”

“She’s strong,” Fallon stated.

“And she’ll be stronger now. You needed to see me?”

“I wanted to talk to you and Hannah about the mobile medicals. It’s a big lift to flash your teams and your equipment to the safe zone at Arlington.”

“Lana’s talked to us already, but we can take this into my office. I want to show you the plans we just got.”

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