There was a door standing open to a room he’d never seen before, which happened sometimes at his place. The room inside had golden-brown floorboards and whitewashed walls. Magnus was standing in the room, with Rafe beside him. Magnus was wearing a red-and-gold silk robe, and Rafe’s face was tipped up to watch him as he produced a low, soothing stream of Spanish. It was a beautiful room.

Alec realized Magnus knew he was there because Magnus started translating what he was saying into rapid English, switching between languages with fluid ease so everybody knew what was going on.

“Let’s put away the cross for now, and talk about organized religion later,” said Magnus, snapping his fingers at the crucifix on the wall. “And let’s have a window and let the light in. Do you like this one?”

He gestured easily to the wall, and a circular window opened up onto their street, showing a tree catching the moon. Then he gestured again and the window was red-and-gold stained glass.

“Or this one?” Magnus waved a third time and the window was arched and tall as a church window. “Or this one?”

Rafe was nodding and nodding, his face wreathed in eager smiles.

Magnus smiled down at him. “Want me to just keep doing magic?”

Rafe nodded again, even more vehemently. Magnus laughed and set a hand on Rafe’s curly head: Alec was about to warn that Rafael was shy at first and would duck away, but Rafe didn’t. He let Magnus stroke his hair, the rings on Magnus’s hand catching the light through their new window. Magnus’s smile went from gleaming to glowing. He met Alec’s eyes over Rafe’s head.

“I’ve been getting to know Rafe,” said Magnus. “He told me that was what he liked to be called. We’ve been doing up a bedroom for him. See?”

“I do,” said Alec.

“Rafe,” said Magnus. “Rafael. Do you have a last name?”

Rafe shook his head.

“That’s all right. We have two. How would you feel about a middle name? Would you like one?”

Rafe broke into a stream of Spanish. From all the nodding, Alec was fairly sure he was agreeing.

“Um,” Alec said. “We probably need to talk.”

Magnus laughed. “Oh, do you think so? Excuse us for a minute, Rafe.” He moved toward Alec, then stopped short. Rafe’s hands were clenched hard on the edge of Magnus’s robe. Magnus looked startled.

Rafe burst out crying. Magnus cast Alec a wild glance, then ran his hands distractedly through his own hair. Between torrential sobs, Rafael began to eke out words.

Alec couldn’t speak Rafael’s language, but he understood nonetheless. Don’t let me see you, and then have to go away into the loneliness that is the world without you. Please, please, keep me. I’ll be good, if you would just keep me.

Alec started forward, but before he was even in the room, Magnus dropped to his knees and touched the child’s face with tender hands. All trace of tears disappeared with a shimmer of magic.