He knew another world now. Had touched it. Would walk in both, in a way, for the rest of his life. He thought of the boar.

Hands flat on the low stone wall in the wind, he thought of Ysabel as the night drifted down.

“Come on,” he heard from behind him. “I found matches, we’ve got a fire. Did you bring anything someone could call food?”

He turned back to Melanie, to the world.

“Veracook packed me some stuff.”

“God bless her,” Melanie said in the doorway.

He walked over, followed her in. The fire was going nicely. She’d lit candles, too.

“There are blankets in those cupboards,” she said. “Lots of them.”

“Good. We’ll be okay.”

Melanie grinned at him. “Sailor,” she said, “you might even be better than okay.”

That, predictably, got his heart beating faster. He cleared his throat, as an image, inescapable, inserted itself in his awareness.

“Melanie, my mother’s there. She’ll be coming up tomorrow and looking me in the eye.”

“Good point. And I work for your dad, don’t I? I might have trouble facing them if we…”

“You?” he said. “You might have trouble? You know my mother! You think I can get away with pretending we played Twenty Questions? Animal, vegetable, mineral?”

She laughed softly. “Only if we play Twenty Questions.”

“Not why I joined the navy.”

Melanie’s expression altered. She looked at him a moment. “You know, you really have changed.”

“Well, so have you.”

“I guess.” She smiled at him. She looked older, he thought, but didn’t say. She lifted a hand and touched his cheek. Her eyes seemed darker, so did her voice, somehow.

“Ned, I have a pretty good idea what you did today. I remember what this place was like for you, when we drove here. And…this won’t be the only night of our lives.”

He cleared his throat again. “That’s a pretty hot thing to say.”

“Uh-huh. I know. Your birthday’s in July?”

He nodded. It was hard to speak, again. Women could do this to you.

“I’ll have to try hard to remember that,” Melanie said. “Now, let’s see what Vera put in there for you.”

She went over to his pack. He stood where he was. He could remember the feel of her lips in the cave, and there was that scent he hadn’t ever been aware of before.

“Um, the fifteenth,” he said suddenly. “July fifteenth.”

She was rummaging.

“Baguette, pâté, cheese, apples. Vera’s a treasure,” she said. Then looked at him over her shoulder, a smile. “I have the date in my PDA. Meanwhile, come by the fire, let’s eat, and…” Her voice deepened again. “I’m thinking of something animal.”

“Oh, God!” he said.

She laughed aloud.

Outside, the night deepened and gathered. Boars, which fed at sunrise and at dusk, came cautiously out of woods below. Owls lifted from trees to hunt. Moonlight found ancient towns and the ruins of towers, triumphal arches and sacred pools, graveyards and vineyards and lavender bushes. One by one stars emerged in the dark blue dusk, in a sky that had not yet fallen.

IN THE BRIGHTNESS of morning they were waiting outside by the wall. They saw the others coming up along the switchbacks of the northern ridge. They’d have had to start before sunrise, Ned thought, in darkness, to be here by now.

It was harder to feel sorrow in the morning, he thought, seeing his father lift his hat in one hand and wave it. Melanie stood up and waved back with both hands over her head.

You can allow yourself joy, he thought. And even pride. He didn’t feel ill any more. He hadn’t since he’d entered the cave, since finding Ysabel.

They’d all come up, he saw, counting. Even Greg and Uncle Dave, who probably shouldn’t be doing two-hour climbs. His mother and his aunt were walking beside each other. Red hair and white like a fairy tale. It wasn’t, though; this was his family, and he had a different kind of tale for them. He swallowed hard, seeing the two of them like that, bright against the green of the trees and the blue lakes in the distance below.

They came zigzagging with the trail. He remembered, late yesterday, being pursued, cutting across these last switchbacks, up the rock face to get here.

They didn’t have to do that. He stood up beside Melanie and waited for the others to reach them along the last inclination. Just before they did, she looked at him and smiled.

It was more like four inches, he decided.

He grinned back. “Wonder if you could slam-dunk now?”

“Feels like,” she said.

Then she started running, in his socks and the white skirt and blue shirt Ysabel had worn. Ned saw his father open his arms and hug her close as if she were a lost child returned.

Greg and Steve stopped beside them, waiting their turn. His mother and uncle and aunt kept coming towards Ned. He saw Kate Wenger hanging back, suddenly shy.

“Yo, Mom,” he said. “You bring croissants?”

His mother, who was not much of a hugger, didn’t answer, she just enfolded him and didn’t let go.

“Whoa!” Ned said.

“No, whoa,” she murmured, gripping tightly. “No way.”

Eventually she stepped back, looking at him.

His aunt was smiling. “Yo, Nephew,” she said. “Want us to tell you how scared we were?”

“I can guess.”

“No, you can’t,” said Meghan Marriner, shaking her head. “You can’t come close.”

He looked at her. “I have a few things to tell you guys,” he said. “About us. Our family.”

The sisters glanced at each other.

“Which of them was the father?” Kim asked.

Ned’s jaw dropped. “Jeez!” he said.

“We were talking most of the night,” his mother said. “Fitted a few guesses together. Like a jigsaw.”

“A jigsaw,” he repeated, stupidly.

Uncle Dave laughed at his expression. “Ned,” he said, “believe me, it was scary listening to them. We can start being afraid around now.”

Ned didn’t feel afraid. It didn’t look like his uncle did, either. His mother and aunt were looking at him, waiting.

He cleared his throat. “She didn’t tell,” he said quietly. “They asked.”

Meghan said, “But we were right?”

Ned nodded, looked over at his uncle. “Aha. They weren’t sure. We’re still okay.”

“Barely,” said Dave Martyniuk. “This is just a beginning.”

They looked back at the others.

Edward Marriner led them up. Greg and Steve were grinning like kids. Melanie had her oversized tote now, and her cellphone and straw hat. Meghan went over and kissed her on both cheeks.

Ned looked at his dad. “Hi,” he said.

“Hello, son.” His father smiled.

“Take a good look around. Morning light. I don’t think you can go wrong up here. A lot of options. You’ll want to go look south, too, other side of this courtyard here. You shoot from Cézanne’s mountain, not up to it?”

His father nodded. “Had that thought, climbing up.”

“I had that thought a week ago!” said Melanie.

“Oh, of course you did,” said Greg.

Steve snorted, and walked away, towards where Kate was still hanging back. He was dialing his phone. Ned wondered who was left at the villa to call.

A moment later the sounds of “The Wedding March” were heard in the high, clear spaces at the summit of Sainte-Victoire.

“Dammit!” said Melanie, reddening. She stabbed for the answer button on her phone. “I took that ringtone off!”

Steve had turned back to them. He was laughing. So was Greg. So, actually, was Ned. Did you have to be mature all the time?

Steve sketched an oriental bow to Melanie. “Little Bird, learn lesson of life. That which is changed can be changed back in fullness of time.” He bowed again, hands pressed together.

“You are in so much trouble, the two of you,” she said.

“I am really, really happy to hear you say that,” said Greg. He looked at her, and frowned. “Hey, did you, like, grow or something?”

She smiled; it just about lit the mountainside.