"It's been some time," Prudence answers, turning from her husband, "but I can do it. Take what you need for them."
The two boys run to her, talking simultaneously, and she stills them gently with a hand each to the tops of their heads. The girl with the smallest child comes around the corner of the house, and the one who ran to get their father pops her head out the front door, and three more wander uncertainly out from the barn.

The little one runs to her again, and she picks him up with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. "You're to mind your father and Hattie," she says with a brusque tenderness, "all of you."

"Bring me back a sword?" pipes up the Riftwatcher-to-be, who's shushed by one of his sisters.