From the corner of my eye I saw a small girl, perhaps six or seven, approaching us slowly. She would take a few steps, watch, take a few more.

I caught the child’s gaze and smiled, waving her closer with my free hand.

Staring at her little feet, the girl—wearing a smaller version of Styx armor with the telltale silver band around her arm—came over and stopped next to me, on the opposite side of Cormac.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

When the girl remained mute, Cormac answered for her. “This little one is Amora. She is the daughter of one of my captains.” He softened his voice. “She has a baby brother named Lorn, and, I believe, she has a birthing day celebration coming very soon.”

Amora looked up at Cormac and smiled, her shyness forgotten. “My mama is making me my favorite treats and I have two friends staying at our home overnight!”

Adorable, that’s what she was. And of course Cormac knew her name, her baby brother’s name and who her parents were. Some monster.

“I, ummm—” she looked down at her hand and I noticed she held something there that looked like a piece of paper. “I am supposed to give this message to Cormac but I don’t want you to be mad at me because I’m not supposed to talk to them.”

“To who, honey?” I asked.

“Siren. He said you’re even now.” She moved her hand in a horizontal slash. “Like this. Even. He had a red arm band, but he was really nice. He said he’s an Enforcer just like you.”

Siren? Wasn’t that one of the other legions?

Cormac stilled into what I was beginning to recognize as his Enforcer, hunter-protector mode. He held out his hand and placed his palm up in front of the little girl. His voice was soft and friendly, gentler than I’d ever heard him. “It’s all right, little one. Give me the message.”

Biting her lower lip, she stepped forward and placed her small hand in the center of Cormac’s much larger one. She unfolded her fingers and a small, crinkled piece of gray paper fell free.

“Thank you,” Cormac said.

The little girl looked at me. “I don’t want you to be mad at me, either.”

“I’m not mad at you, Amora. Everything is fine.”

She studied me for long moments, her little mind obviously churning over something she found very important. Decision made, she turned to Cormac, walked straight into his body and wrapped her tiny arms around him the best she could. “I decided to tell you that I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

She clung until he wrapped his free arm—the hand still holding the note—around her and hugged her close. “I am glad.”

“Can we be friends?”

“Yes.”

She smiled and pulled back. “Good. I don’t want to fight the bad people.”