Mum had brought presents for each of the kids (other than Tyrian) – she had the hugest backpack, but only one change of clothes (and no-one had brought coats). Aunt Sue had brought a year’s supply of coffee and chocolate (OMG TIM TAMS!). Nick’s backpack had two laptops and a dozen portable hard drives, with every movie and book and game he and Mum could collect in a year.
After lunch, after settling everyone in their rooms (Alyssa had slept even less than me), Mum emptied out her backpack. Sen of course loves presents, and tore hers hastily open. It was a collection of fairytales, worn from frequent use, the cover beautifully illustrated with a coiling dragon. Sen touched the edges almost reverently, then turned and held it out to Kaoren eagerly. He took it, then smiled. "It’s full of you, Cassandra," he said, then added the same thing in English. We’ve been doing a lot of saying the same thing twice, with distinct vagaries in the translation. All our newcomers opted for the language injection, after the medics decided it was probably my touchstoneness causing issues with it, but it’s still an entire new language.
"That’s was Cassandra’s first book," Mum said. "I would read her a story from it every night."
"And when I could read I must have read them a million times more," I added. No wonder they could feel it with Place. "I’ll read you one tonight, Sen."
"Two!" Sen insisted. She always bargains for treats. And then she hugged Mum, which was an excellent sign, and I saw Ys relax at it, and carefully pick open the tape on her own gift, which was an ereader in a black leather cover patterned with Celtic knot work.
"That, on the other hand," said Mum, "contains many books Cass has never even read. And many that she has. All my favourites." She pulled another present out of her backpack and handed it to Lira. "And this is something quite different."
Dolls. She’d made one of each of us. Kaoren in his uniform. Me wearing a lab rat t-shirt. Ys and Rye holding Sen’s hands – along with a book and a little furry animal. Lira, busy creating a statue of a cat. Mum’s dolls aren’t the cuddle-at-night variety, but fit in the palm of your hand, incredibly detailed, with a stylised realism which is very precise and exact. They’re utterly cool. Lira adored them. So did Sen, which nearly brought on a temper tantrum of epic proportions, but fortunately Mum distracted her by pointing out that she hadn’t known to make one of Tyrian, and would have to get Sen’s help with that. Sen and Lira have both been having doll-making lessons ever since. Lira’s infinitely better at it than I ever hoped to be.
Once Sen and Lira had stepped back from all-out war, Mum hauled out Rye’s present, which was taking up most of the rest of her enormous backpack. He nervously picked at the tape until Sen impatiently "helped" him, tearing the whole huge package open and spilling out hundreds of little packets and bundles out onto the floor. I recognised them immediately, but it wasn’t till Rye picked one up and saw the picture on the front that he understood.
Seeds. Seeds, bulbs, grains, even a couple of Mum’s favourite roses. Hundreds and hundreds of flowers, but also fruit and vegetables, herbs and spices.
"Only scratched the surface, really," Mum said, shaking her head at it all, then smiling at Rye. "But I think we can guarantee a pretty spectacular garden out of all this, if you’ll help me plant it. I’m not used to gardens which are snowed on."
Rye has become my Mum’s biggest fan. So has the botany department, since Rye rather sensibly presented most of the hoard to them. And I had to give her extra hugs because she’d managed to get her hands on seeds for cinnamon trees and cocoa beans. It’ll be years before they’ll produce anything harvestable, but still!
I’m so glad she’s here.
Though I almost took it all back when I noticed how often Tsur Selkie was visiting Arcadia. I was really quite upset when I realised what was going on, and I think that surprised Kaoren, but Tsur Selkie is just so humourless and grim, and didn’t seem like a good fit for Mum at all.
Kaoren listened to the little storm of angst which came flooding out of me, then hugged me and said: "I am almost certain that Sight told him that they were a match the very first time he saw her, in the log of your retrieval from Earth near-space. At that juncture he would have thought it impossible, and I wondered at the time what had hurt him so. I doubt you would have believed the ferment he was in, waiting to see if the gates would align as anticipated. He is someone who has carried a harsh load, and–" He paused. "And I think your mother equal to almost everything. Certainly to knowing her own mind, and heart."
Aunt Sue thinks it’s hilarious, and says it took a while for Mum to even realise that Tsur Selkie was being more than politely helpful. Of course, he doesn’t speak any English, but Mum’s a lot better at languages than I am, and soon was having long talks with him. Which is pretty amazing given that he makes Kaoren look wordy.
She calls him Gidds.
I am so not ever going to be able to process that, or the idea of him being my step-Dad, let alone that Mum’s seriously thinking about the idea of having a baby with him. But Kaoren was right – she’s perfectly capable of deciding whether Tsur Selkie works for her. And I guess he does, because I’ve never seen her smile the way she does now. So I can’t be upset about her doing something I didn’t expect.
Mum brought me a gift too. The book that I’d left half-finished on my bed, so many years ago. Because there’s nothing better than finding out how things end. And starting a new story.
THE END