But I did know. Now was what was at the bottom. I was already there. With Mom and Ran and Mongo. And Jill and Takahiro. And cobeys, and the fact that the world(s) were so much different than I thought.
There are so many of us.
Arnie. And Casimir.
Hix. All the gruuaa.
And Val.
I woke up taking the deepest breath I’d maybe taken in eight years (in spite of Mongo). The car had stopped, and the front doors were opening. Jill murmured something, and then her door opened. I felt around for a door latch and just about managed not to fall out when I found it and our door opened too. Even Mongo looked a little stiff as he poured himself out onto the ground. I reached down for my algebra book: it was nearly full up with pages again. I patted it, but I patted it clumsily, and managed to get my hand caught between the top cover and the first page . . . and had the really odd feeling that it briefly held my hand, like some dogs will do, gently, with their mouths, as a way of saying hi. I stuffed it under my arm and slid out of the car. Takahiro followed me, yawning and stumbling like any sleepy boy, not like a hero or a werewolf. He put an arm around me and I leaned against him. The algebra book, of course, was in the way.
I finished waking up faster than I might’ve when my brother hit me like one of his own racing cars. Ran and I hadn’t hugged each other in years—he wouldn’t even let Mom hug him—but we hugged each other now till I think we left bruises, and then he let me go and stood there a moment like he wasn’t sure what to do next. Eventually he said, “Hey, there’s coffee and food indoors. Hey,” he added to Taks, seemingly no more than mildly surprised at Taks’ arm having replaced itself around me. And then left at a trot like he was leaving the scene of a crime.
The front door of Haven was open, just like it had been when I was four, and Mom had had to hold me up because I was too sleepy and too frightened to stand on my own. I thought I remembered that the light had spilled down the steps to the driveway like a golden river that long-ago night too, but this time it looked warm and welcoming, and I was standing on my own feet and (more or less) awake. I slid my hand under Taks’ arm—he’d grabbed my algebra book with his other hand when Ran had thudded into me. Gwenda was coming down the steps at a very undignified speed, and hugged me almost as hard as Ran had. “My amazing niece,” she said. “I knew your mom was wrong about you.” There were two more figures on the steps up to the house. One of them was Rhonwyn. I was guessing the other was Blanchefleur: I was going to meet her at last.
Gwenda went on holding my hand for a moment when she let go of me, and there was a little buzzy sensation against my palm, like when Mom had kissed me before she let us go after Val. Like the human version of Hix tickling my neck. I was still thinking about this when Gwenda moved away from Taks and me to address all of us, like we were a jury she wanted to sway in an unpopular direction. “We are so glad you are here. We have an enormous amount to talk about—and then to do. Our world is changing—has already changed—whether any of us likes it or not—whether those who decide Newworld policy like it or not, whether General Kleinzweig likes it or not. For now you are safe here. For now. And we will make it safe for you in this new future that has begun.” She held out her hands in a gesture that might have been threatening or it might have peacemaking or it might have been both, and I saw Gwenda, the courtroom crocodile, shine through my aunt in a way that was both scary and comforting.
“But we also need your help. We need your help urgently!” She laughed a little, and it was a real laugh, but it was also determined and impatient.
Rhonwyn and Blanchefleur, if it was Blanchefleur, had come down the steps as Gwenda was talking and Rhonwyn came up beside Gwenda and put an arm around her shoulders, but less like a hug and more like grabbing your over-enthusiastic dog before he scares off your visitors. “Gwen,” she said. “Let them come in and sit down. They’ve had a long day.”
I realized Jill was standing beside me, and Casimir looking uncertain on her other side. I took her hand with my free hand. She smiled at me and then reached out and grabbed Casimir’s hand and drew him to stand next to her. He glanced across the other three of us and smiled—shyly, his dimple barely showing. “Welcome to Newworld,” I said, mostly to him, but really to the four of us. The grown-ups would have their ideas, but we’d have ours too. “Welcome to the new Newworld. It’s going to be . . .” and I paused. None of the words I could think of really fitted, and “insane” would probably be bad for morale. Mongo was sitting on my feet, Hix was humming in my ear, and I could see gruuaa wrapped around both Taks and Jill and—there was one or three scampering up the golden river toward Haven’s open door. If my knowledge of ordinary critter body language was anything to go by, they were happy and excited. I looked up, and found Blanchefleur looking at me. She had to be Blanchefleur, she looked so much like the other three sisters. She smiled. I smiled back.
I looked around for Mom—and Val. They were standing with their arms around each other (of course). I smiled at them too. Mom’s smile was one of the things I loved best in the whole world. My eyes moved to Val. There was, I thought, some irony in his smile—but maybe I couldn’t see him clearly where they were standing at the edge of the light. Not seeing clearly was a good thing with that shirt. Although jail, escape over the barrens, and a night sleeping on the ground had subdued it somewhat. I’m your apprentice now, you know, I thought at him. In the new Newworld.
“Interesting,” said Takahiro. “It’s going to be interesting.”