“It’s a good name,” Nisa said.

“It is,” Dirva said. He stroked the baby’s face. He looked over at me and asked me to come closer. “Meet the little one,” he said.

I took the child in my arms. My heart scrabbled against my ribs; my arms felt awkward and ungainly. I was terrified I’d drop him. “Hello,” I whispered.

“A falo’s life is twined with the child,” Dirva said. He spoke City Lothic, his mother tongue.

“So it is,” I said.

“A falo treats a child as his own blood: raises him, protects him, comforts and teaches him.”

“So he does.”

“Through the child, the falo is bound to the family. You and I and Nisa share a beating heart.”

“So we do. I will be his falo,” I said.

Dirva ran a hand over the back of my head. He leaned his forehead against mine. “So you shall,” he said.

* * *

I was Nuri’s falo. It made no sense to Nisa, but she accepted that in my mind and in Dirva’s mind I was part of their family. I did my best to live up to the role, but I’d never been around a newborn before. Mostly I helped keep the house neat and orderly. I did all the laundry, all the dishes. I’d never cooked much, but I cooked most of the meals. With Nuri I was at a loss. I was fascinated by him, but I didn’t understand him, so mostly I tried to keep myself out of the way. I was part of the family, and technically I was a parent, but the truth of it was I did more caring for Dirva and Nisa than I did the baby.