“Gordon, I’ve already lost you once. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

“I am sorry, Valkyrie. It’s not up to me. It’s not up to you, either.” He started to fade. “But look on the bright side,” he said. “I get to have a second death scene.”

Stupidly, she reached for him, and her hand passed through his shoulder. “Wait, just … let’s think about this. What if we shut down the stone until I find someone to fix it? Can we do that?”

“Valkyrie,” Gordon said, his voice distant, “there are some inevitabilities you can fight against. There are some you can’t. This is one of the latter.”

Tears ran down her face. “Please.”

“Hush now,” he said. His image was still fading. “All those stories I told when I babysat you, do you remember them? They all had one thing in common. Do you know what it was?”

She shook her head.

Gordon smiled. She could see the rock wall through his smile. “The brave princess, the brave mermaid, the brave rider on her brave horse, whatever you wanted the story to be about … the brave little girl always won in the end. That’s what separates real life from the majority of the books I wrote – sometimes, the good guys do actually win.”

“Please don’t die.”

“The mentor figure dying is all part of the hero’s journey, my dear. Look at Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars, or Gandalf the Grey in Lord of the Rings. How are you supposed to reach your full potential if you’re coddled every step of the way?”

“I’ve been coddled?” asked Valkyrie. “When? Why wasn’t I told this was the coddling part?”

His smiled widened. “You’ll be fine without me.”

“I really wanted Alice to meet you.”

“And I wanted to meet her, too … And I wanted to talk to my brothers again, and Melissa … though not Beryl.”

“She’s not that bad any more.”

“Please, let me have my pettiness.”

Valkyrie wiped her eyes. “Sure.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment. “It’s funny,” he said. “I always imagined my death would include a lot more coughing, and long … gaps … between … words … and maybe even a cheek to brush my finger against. Something dramatic like that. Maybe even enough to prompt the shedding of a few tears upon the telling. But would I be able to go through with it without even attempting to subvert the norm and skewer expectations?”

Valkyrie smiled despite her tears. “You have been known to skewer.”

“That I have, my niece. That I have.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you have me crying.”