“I love you so much.”
He pulled back and looked at my face, his brow furrowing. “Don’t be sad, Mama.”
“I’m not sad.” Tears were sliding down my cheeks. Very convincing.
“You’re crying,” he pointed out with devastating four-year-old logic.
“These are happy tears,” I lied.
“They look sad.”
“They’re complicated tears, okay?”
Mal knelt beside me, saving me from further interrogation. “Protect Grandma for me, pup. You are the man of the house while I am gone.”
Killian’s face went serious. “I will protect her, Papa.”
“I know you will. We will be back soon.”
Killian reached up and took off his flower crown. Then he pulled another one from his pocket. “For protection. I made them this morning with Grandma.”
He handed them to us. The flowers were crooked, some stems bent, already losing petals. Perfect.
I put mine on. “Thank you, baby.”
Mal put his on too. “Very powerful protection.”
Killian giggled. “You look silly, Papa.”
“I am magical now,” Mal replied seriously.
One more hug. One more kiss. Then we stepped back toward the entrance before I could change my mind. We turned to wave. Killian waved back, already distracted by Krystin asking about cookie decorations.
The portal shimmered as we stepped through.
Back in Lytopia, the empty hallway felt too silent. I stared back at the portal, knowing Killian was safe on the other side.
Mal’s fingers intertwined with mine. “He is safe.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Let’s find Tyreen and end this, so we can get him back.”
We walked together toward our chambers.
***
That evening, we packed the final items. I moved around our bedroom folding travel clothes, organizing herbs. Healing herbs for injuries, wrapped carefully in cloth. Energy boosters for long days, ground into powder. The blend Casimya had given me for headaches, bitter but effective.
Mal was on the other side of the room with his weapons. I watched him test a blade’s edge, satisfied with its sharpness, then move to the next one. The whetstone made soft scraping sounds against metal.
“That’s a lot of sharp objects,” I observed.
“I like to be prepared.”
“For what, an army?”
“Yes.”
