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“Not how she was. But she is still around, I guess. Mamó and Grandpa raised me because the council also…” She couldn’t say it. That was too much. That they took her memories of him? It seemed too cruel to tell him. What good would it do now? “Anyway, we’re not close.”

The way her father looked at her made Saga wonder if somehow he could read it on her face. He shifted, trying to be level with her, but it was a vain effort. “Could you do me a favor?” Viggo’s breathing became labored as he tried to focus hard on Saga’s eyes. “Change that.”

“Dad, I don’t think you understand…”

“No, sweetheart, I-I do. Trust me, I know. But she’s still in there somewhere. I just… I just need you to-to try.” He struggled to bring her hand to him so he could kiss it. “I know it isn’t easy. But I’m not there anymore to take care of her where she can’t. I’ve never seen a sundering myself, but…I know. And I need you to be my eyes, okay? Need you to take over for me. Can you promise me that? You’ll work on being there for her?” He looked so insistent, so desperate. Saga couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. Knowing he had to leave them both behind.

What could she deny him? “I promise.”

“Good.” He laid his head back and relaxed. “Next, you find someone who is gonna be there for you, okay? Someone to be my eyes for you. Someone who understands how remarkable you are and won’t let you forget it.”

Saga nodded. “I’ll try.”

Viggo gave her hand a tug. “C’mere, it’s a lot to keep my head up.”

Saga laid her head on his chest, tucking herself under his arm. She could barely hear his heartbeat through the coat. His chest was rising and falling but shallowly. She could hear a faint wheeze with each inhalation. “Dad, I don’t think I should be putting pressure on your chest.”

“Shush. Tell me more about your life.”

“Am I shushing or am I telling you about my life?”

He chuckled. It sounded sleepy. “You are your mother’s damn child. Why did you drop out of med school?”

“I went into medicine because I thought it would make you proud of me.”

“Sweetheart, I’d be proud of you no matter what you decided to do with your life as long as you were following what you wanted…”

“Even murder?”

His chest shuddered with a laugh. “That’s what fathers are for. But for the sake of my conscience before I go, who are we murdering?”

Something between a laugh and sob escaped her. “No one… Just a dumb joke.”

“Aren’t those my job?”

“Well, I gotta practice, you know, ’cause…”

Viggo struggled to bring his other arm around her. “Surely, I can pass on a better legacy than dumb jokes.”

“There’s your pancake.”

“Oooh,” Viggo sighed. “That sounds so good right now. Can you make it?”

“On the side of a mountain? No. But I can make it. I have made it. A lot, actually. It’s one of my favorite comfort foods.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Have one for me when you get home?”

“I will.” Saga curled into him more, her body shaking with repressed sobs. “Thank you for being my dad.”

Viggo did his best to tighten his embrace, but he didn’t have the strength. He kissed the top of her head. “It is an honor and a privilege to be your father.”

A sob escaped her, and she hugged him tighter, wishing that her body heat could have helped prolong his time. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” They both knew it was a lie, but it was good to hear it anyway. “Tell me more about your life. I don’t care about what… I just want to hear your voice.”

So Saga told him. She told him about meeting Avery and her world turning upside down. She told him how that friendship had grown over the past two months and what an unexpected support they’d found in each other. She told him about losing Saoirse and bringing her killer to justice. She told him about finding her mother’s grimoire and the Devil’s Mirror.

Near the end of one story, she noticed his breathing had begun to pause. There would be a large exhalation and nothing, and for a moment she would think that was it, that this time he might be truly gone. And he’d begin breathing again.