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Mara's herbs gave another agitated rustle, confirming what her instincts were already telling her.

The same kind of entity that had driven her from Boston was here, in this peaceful little town that had offered her sanctuary.

The thought of running again, of leaving another community to face supernatural threats without her help, made her stomach turn.

But the thought of Tilly facing those threats without proper magical training made her feel physically ill.

"I can help," she said, the words emerging before she'd consciously decided to speak them.

"With Tilly's training, I mean. Herbal magic is particularly good for grounding and centering chaotic energy.

And my grandmother always said that fae-touched witches make the best teachers for children with unusual gifts. "

Griff's eyes sharpened. "Fae-touched?"

"Great-great-grandmother on my mother's side had an affair with someone from the old bloodlines," Mara said, heat rising in her cheeks. "It's distant enough that I'm mostly human, but it gives my magic some extra... flexibility."

"That would explain why Tilly responded to you so strongly," Griff murmured, glancing down at his daughter, who was now absently making the flowers in Mara's display sway in time with some unheard rhythm.

"She's never done that before. Usually her magic gets more chaotic around new people, not calmer. "

"It's because she recognizes me," Mara said, understanding flooding through her with sudden clarity. "Not personally, but magically. My fae heritage lets me harmonize with different types of power instead of competing with them. It's like... like being a bridge between different magical languages."

Tilly looked up at her with shining eyes. "You could teach me to make the loud feelings quiet?"

"I could teach you to make them into music instead of noise," Mara promised, her heart melting at the hope in the child's voice. "Magic isn't supposed to hurt or scare you, sweetheart. It's supposed to be part of you, like singing or laughing."

Griff was silent for a long moment, conflict playing across his features. Mara could practically see him weighing his desire to keep his daughter safe against his recognition that Tilly needed more help than he could provide on his own.

"I can't pay much," he said finally. "Business is steady but not exactly lucrative, and single parent finances are..."

"I'm not looking for payment," Mara interrupted. "I'm looking for purpose. And for a place where I can help instead of just hiding."

Something in her tone must have conveyed the depth of her sincerity, because Griff's expression softened slightly. "You're running from something too, aren't you?"

"Something found me in Boston," Mara said simply. "Something that didn't like the work I was doing or the people I was helping. I've been looking for a place where I could make a difference again, where I could use my abilities for more than just keeping myself safe."

She looked down at Tilly, who was now making patterns of light dance between her fingers while several of Mara's herbs swayed in response to the child's unconscious magic. The sight filled her with a fierce protectiveness that surprised her with its intensity.

"Besides," she added, "I have a feeling that whatever's threatening this town is connected to what drove me away from Boston. Which means running probably isn't an option anymore."

Griff studied her for another long moment, then extended his hand again. This time, when their skin touched, Mara felt the deliberate weight of trust being offered and accepted.

"All right," he said. "When can you start?"

"How about right now?" Mara suggested, glancing around the market at the other vendors who were beginning to pack up their stalls as the afternoon light started to fade.

"I can close up early and come back to your place.

Tilly and I can work on some basic grounding exercises while you tell me more about these nightmares and whatever happened at the sanctuary. "

"Can we, Daddy?" Tilly asked eagerly. "Please? I promise I'll be good and I won't make anything explode."

"You've never made anything explode," Griff said, though his tone suggested this was more luck than design. "All right. But we're taking this slowly, and if anything feels dangerous or wrong, we stop immediately."

"Agreed," Mara said, already beginning to pack her most sensitive herbs into spelled containers that would keep them calm during transport.

"Though I should warn you, Griff. If something is targeting children with emerging magical abilities, then isolating Tilly isn't going to keep her safe.

It's going to make her more vulnerable."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that whatever broke your founder ward last night isn't done with this town," Mara said, securing the last of her supplies. "And if it's anything like what I faced in Boston, then our best defense is going to be working together, not trying to face it alone."

As they left the market together, Tilly skipping between them with more joy than she'd shown since arriving, Mara felt something she hadn't experienced in months: hope. Not just for her own future, but for the family she was already beginning to think of as hers to protect.

Whatever had driven her from Boston had made a crucial mistake. It had followed her to a place where she wasn't alone, where her magic was welcomed instead of feared, and where a six-year-old girl with extraordinary power needed exactly the kind of guidance Mara had been born to provide.

The lavender sachets in her bag had finally stopped screaming, settling into the quiet contentment of herbs that knew they were exactly where they belonged.