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FAO Ayda Aguefort, to be read upon awakening.
Hello. You will likely at this moment be very small, and very confused, and unsure of your place in the world. I would like to present you with some facts to help you ground yourself before you read any further.
- Your name is Ayda Aguefort.
- You are half-phoenix. Please see appendix A to understand how this relates to your current amnesia.
- You are currently standing, or sitting, in the Compass Points Library, of which you are the keeper and head librarian. Your deputy Rawlins will be waiting outside to re-introduce you to the collections once you are ready.
- (To be read once Appendix A has been fully read and understood.)
I, the Ayda Aguefort writing these notes for you, have a ward. Their name is Garthy O'Brien. After a short mourning period in which you can refamiliarize yourself with the library, I think they would like to see you.
An important caveat: you are not Garthy's mother. I was Garthy's mother. The title is not transferable. I have some remembrances of our life together for prosperity. You may read them. They are not obligations. They are a gift.
4.5. A wizard should be in no-one's debt. But you are not a wizard. Not yet.
*
A knock came through the door as Ayda Aguefort, newly hatched and still smoking a little, pored over the helpfully labelled notes.
"Miss Ayda?" She registered the voice as male. An adult male, elderly by the sound of it. Ayda wasn't sure how her brain made these connections. She wasn't sure of much, except for the vital urge to read and understand as much as possible before... something happened.
Ayda consulted the third bullet point. Someone standing outside the door knew her name. The notes told her that her 'deputy', Rawlins would be standing outside the room. Ergo, this must be Rawlins.
Ayda wetted her lips with a small pink tongue and spoke for the first time in her life. "Come in, Rawlins."
The door creaked open a fraction.
"Ah," the man who must be Rawlins said. "A little smaller than I predicted. One moment." Ayda watched, fascinated, as the old man held up a small pair of linen pants against her, then shook his head, muttered something, and shrank them down into a pair of smaller overalls in a dark blue fabric. They looked as if they might fit a five-year-old, or maybe a six-year-old who was unusually small.
"Is that how big I am?" Ayda asked, trailing a finger over the soft clothing.
"Indeed," Rawlins said, with a hint of... something. Not disappointment. Not uncertainty. Something that hovered in that general direction. He conjured up a shirt, smaller again, white with red stripes. She liked it immediately. "Would you like some help getting dressed?" He asked.
Ayda refused out of something she would later learn to call 'pride' until it came to the buttons on the overalls. They were fiddly under her chubby fingers and after the third or fourth try she felt hot tears building up behind her eyes, threatening to leak out.
Rawlins asked again if he could help. "I had two daughters of my own," he commented as she struggled. "A long, long time ago. But I think I still remember the basics."
Finally, she acquiesced. Rawlins had her done up neatly in a matter of moments, and then caught her gaze for a little too long, in a way that made her skin feel itchy.
"Incredible," he murmured. "I had almost no idea what to expect. But I can tell already how different you are." He chuckled. "You can come into this world having skipped the first stage of infancy, already knowing how to walk, and talk, and read, and still... so much room to grow."
Ayda wriggled out of his soft grip. "That's enough, please." Her voice sounded high and strange to her own ears for a moment, and then it sounded perfectly natural.
"Of course." Rawlins straightened up. "Are you hungry?"
Ayda considered this. "Yes," she decided eventually. "But I would like to finish reading these notes."
Rawlins nodded. "Understandable. Let me see your teeth. Do any feel loose?"
Ayda prodded around her mouth curiously. "No."
"Excellent. I shall bring you a sandwich and some milk." And after another, too-long gaze, he departed.
Ayda toddled over to a mirror that had been helpfully placed at her eye-level and took stock of herself. She was indeed small, and this seemed to be important. She had warm brown skin, and chubby limbs, and best of all - wings. Ayda gasped as the feathery plumage stuttered open behind her. They too were small, but very beautiful. She admired them for a long time, spinning on the spot to look at as much of them as possible before she got dizzy, and then continued her assessment. She had red hair that fell in curly wisps around her ears. It was soft to the touch, and long enough to wind strands around her finger, which felt nice. She was dressed in the soft blue overalls, and the white shirt with red stripes. Her feet were bare. She bounced on them, experimentally, and liked the sensation so much that she did it again, and again.
"My name is Ayda Aguefort," she said, trying the name out on her tongue. She wondered if she could fly. She wondered what 'library' was. And 'sandwich'. She wondered about Garthy O'Brien, and why they needed a 'mourning period'. She had so many questions that her fingers and toes practically itched with them.
Ayda bounded back over to the book - one of many that lined a shelf above the large bed she'd woken up in - and dove back in to her research. Her eyes skipped over titles on spines and shelf classifications, drinking it all in greedily without really knowing where to start.
On library maintenance. (This was a thick tome, well-thumbed.)
Personal correspondence. (A sheaf of papers of different colours and quality bound together with twine.)
Health and personal care. (A small binder.)
Celestial navigation log. (A very large binder.)
Compass Points staff and payroll. (One sheet of paper on a clipboard.)
Garthy.
Ayda pulled the last book off the shelf and fell back onto the bed with a yelp as it came loose. It was much bigger than the others. She found the word 'scrapbook' in her head and decided it applied here as she opened the cover. The size of the book covered her entire lap. It was leatherbound with gilt decoration and brass corners and when she opened it the paper was creamy white and thick. In the first page alone there was a mass of text, but best of all there was a drawing. A pencil drawing of a young person, maybe the same size as Ayda herself, with green skin and dark hair and a big toothy grin.
Ayda pushed the book to the foot of the bed, lay down on her stomach, and began to read.
*
"What are you reading?"
Ayda looked up from her book with a smile. So the child was back - barefoot and leaving damp prints on her rug, as usual.
"Hello, little fish," she greeted them. "Wipe your feet, please."
The child - Garthy - did so immediately. Ayda did not know many children, that was true, but she was sure that no other child was ever so perpetually damp. She patted the cushion by her feet and watched, pleased, as Garthy scrambled onto it. Steam rose as her wingtips nestled around them and slowly began to dry them out.
"To answer your question," she said once they were settled, "I am reading a book on celestial navigation. Now for my question. Why are you all wet?"
Garthy bit their lip and hugged their knees. "Fell in the harbour," they muttered.
Ayda raised an eyebrow. "Are you lying to me?"
"Yes," Garthy replied, quite happy to be honest. "Do you have any books on fighting?"
Ayda made a note of her page number and closed the book. "This is a pirate library. We have many books on combat." She narrowed her eyes through her spectacles. "Do the other children pick on you? Is that why you wish to find such a book?"
"Miss," they pleaded, colour rushing to their cheeks as they looked away from her gaze. "Just - just leave it."
Ayda tsked, and studied the child who had been coming into her library for the last few weeks. She had learned a few facts about them, most from observation, and a few winkled out through conversation. She listed them to herself. Garthy was small - too small - for their age. She had seen them duck through crowds and pick pockets like a fish swimming through water. They never wore shoes, and she surmised they didn't have any to begin with. They were often in trouble with market sellers and pub landlords for sleeping in their backrooms or their doorways.
They were a child in need of a home. And while Ayda had a home to give, she didn't know the first thing about children. None of her predecessors had left her any notes on children, and she lacked information on family in general, save from the occasional visit from her mother (and the constant absence of her father.) She did know how it felt to be a child, as long ago as that might have been, and an ostracised one at that. She remembered well the embarrassment of it, so much more than anything else.
"Very well," Ayda sighed, filing her objection away for another time. "Have you eaten today?"
"No," Garthy said, after a pregnant pause. "Not - not really."
"I see." Ayda stood up from her chair and left the book on a lectern close by. Garthy's wide, dark eyes followed her around the room. "Come, little fish," she instructed. "Let's get you some supper."
Garthy sprang up to follow her. "I thought you couldn't eat in a library?"
"That is the rule for library patrons," Ayda agreed, "but this is also my home, and I must eat." She led him up the winding staircase - and how it was starting to rattle her aging bones - up to the little cabin kitchen next to her private office and bedroom. Ayda - who usually fell back on eating nuts and seeds rather than waste time and energy on cooking - racked her brain on what to feed a child. Luckily she had acquired more than a few cookbooks in her tenure as librarian, and though they weren't often used, they contained useful information. Soon she was chopping vegetables and adding them to a pot, while her young assistant filled a copper kettle with water and watched her with wide, interested eyes.
The resulting soup wasn't bad, and they even had fresh bread from her morning trip to the marketplace. Garthy drank theirs voraciously and asked for seconds, which she ladled out with a glow of approval. She asked them to tell her about themselves, and they obliged as only a small child could, skirting around anything important like parentage or housing, but telling her about the little adventures of their day to day life; running, climbing masts, looking for salvage to sell and playing tricks on the harbourmasters. Ayda had not had such a long conversation with a child before and enjoyed herself immensely. She had to light tapered candles as the evening drew in, and caught the child in a yawn more than once.
"Why don't you stay here tonight?" Ayda asked as she cleared the bowls and cups away. She was careful not to look at them as they said it, knowing it could subject them to further embarrassment, but wanting desperately to convince them that the offer was genuine and made with no intentions of malice. "I've kept you late, and it's cold and wet out." Especially for a child with no shoes.
Garthy bit their lip and looked at the single bed. "Where will you sleep?"
Ayda gestured up with a finger. "I have celestial mapping to do."
"Huh?"
She smiled. "I need to go look at the stars. I won't be sleeping until much later, and I can do that on my perch."
Garthy skewed their lip. Ayda tried a different tactic.
"It would be good to have someone here while I'm upstairs," she added, as nonchalant as possible. "In case of thieves."
Garthy straightened up and puffed out their chest. "I'm a light sleeper. I can wake up in a second and I'll catch anyone who tries to steal stuff, you bet I will."
"I have absolute faith in you," Ayda said, trying to hide her sense of accomplishment. She touched the child lightly on the head as she passed. "Get some sleep, little fish. I'll make us something nice for breakfast in the morning."
*
The sandwich was very good. It tasted of soft grain, and fruit, and some sort of nutty paste that Ayda liked immensely. She ate it all and then drank a cup of milk, holding on with both hands as Rawlins patiently instructed.
"But that doesn't answer my question," she pointed out after returning the cup to its saucer. Ayda had been full of questions, and so few were being answered properly. She had been torn away from the scrapbook by the promise of food, and she had meant to go back to it immediately, but the lure of new surroundings was too strong and she had spent the last hour assessing every object in her 'observatory'. She had bounced on the plush little sofa, and stared through the telescope (it was daytime, so not much to see), and Rawlins had followed her around like a venerable old dog with slippers in his mouth, explaining everything in slow and patient (and usually irrelevant) detail. Then she had found the tree.
Rawlins blinked at her. "Did you not understand the relationship between the Solesian solstice festival and the fir tree? I can go over it again, or recommend some reading material..."
"I understood that ." Ayda pointed at the tree that had started this new round of questions - a strange, threadbare, lopsided fir that sat in a pot next to the stairs that led up to her bedroom. "I asked why there was one here . You said we don't celebrate Solstice on Leviathan."
Rawlins nodded. "Correct. But my mistress - the previous Ayda Aguefort - learned about it on a trip to Solace. She became rather enamoured with tree decorations and amassed quite a collection."
Ayda shimmied down from a high armchair and made her way over to the tree. Though it was raggedy it dwarfed her in size, and it took five or six of her tottering steps to traverse the diameter of the pot. Her legs were still shaky from the rebirth, so she plonked herself down and stared up through the branches.
"But it's not decorated," she pointed out. "Why not?"
Rawlins face did something she couldn't parse again. Smiling, but sad. "Miss Aguefort's sudden decline took her by surprise," he said, and then wiped his eyes with his long sleeve. "Knowing that one will be reborn is not the same as knowing when one will die."
"There wasn't time to decorate," Ayda surmised.
"Indeed."
"I want to decorate."
Rawlins sighed again. "Of course you do."
*
Ayda liked to add one decoration to her horde per year. Although she didn't celebrate Solstice she liked having a comforting ritual that heralded the start of the winter months. Shipping a potted tree to the Compass Points was always a dreadful expense, but her previous incarnation had set her up financially, and she'd had plenty of years to build on her savings. Ayda greeted a trinket-seller at the marketplace by name, but didn't engage in conversation. Her fingers closed around a tin bauble that had caught her eye - it was a silvery green, cool and pleasant to the touch, and modelled in the shape of a small fish. A perch, perhaps, or a minnow.
Something drew her to it and she trusted the feeling. She took it home wrapped in tissue paper, along with some supplies, and, since she was in an indulgent mood, a treat bought from the grocers. Patrons greeted her as she made her way up through the levels of the library to her observatory, and she spent a few precious minutes checking in with Rawlins at the reference desk on any outstanding enquiries before hurrying into her private rooms. Garthy was waiting for her, sat on the rug in their habitual spot and gazing up at the fine fir tree.
"What's this?" They said, without preamble.
"Hello, little fish," Ayda replied, who found preamble comforting. "Shoes off, please."
Garthy dutifully kicked off the boots that Ayda had bought them several months before. They were looking a little bedraggled already, she noted with satisfaction. Well-used. A growing child would need another pair, she thought, and added it to her mental list with a smile.
"Why do you have a tree in your room?" Garthy asked again.
Ayda explained about Solstice and tradition as they helped her bring down a large box from the attic room. She was getting on in years and found the rickety ladder difficult (the hatch was too small to fly through), but Garthy, despite their growing pains, could slip in and out of anywhere and was pleased to show off. She was pleased, too, when she lifted the lid on her treasures and their eyes grew wide.
"This is the best part," Ayda explained to them with a grin. "Would you like to help me decorate?"
"Miss," Garthy breathed in wonder. "Is this all real gold and silver?"
Ayda laughed. "No, little fish. Mostly tin, and glass. This one here is ceramic," she added, picking up a little mosaic disc by its loop and showing it to them. The design of the mosaic created a pleasing nighttime winter scene, and she was very fond of it. She'd picked it up in an artists district in Highcourt. "And this one is made of wood." A carved statuette of an elk from the Baronies. "And this is crystal." A perfect snowflake with facets that caught the light and glittered, bought there on Leviathan. She could see that this one had captured Garthy's attention especially, and let it dangle from her fingers to showcase the refracted light before handing it to them.
"I like this one best," they declared.
"Well, then you may put it on the tree yourself. Like so," she said, and showed them how to loop the attached ribbon over a branch that would support the crystal's particular weight and size. They carried on like that; her in comfortable silence, they in excited chatter, until there was an equitable distribution of baubles on the tree, save for one spot.
"Ah," Ayda remembered, and reached for her wicker basket. "This year's decoration. Would you like to open it?"
Garthy reached for the tissue paper and pulled it away. They stared at the little tin fish that lay there. It wasn't the flashiest decoration Ayda owned, nor the biggest, and she had almost forgotten about it. She was surprised, then, to see the child's eyes fill with tears.
"Dear heart, what on earth is the matter?"
"Nothing," Garthy replied automatically. They stretched a hand out to the bauble, not quite touching it. "Is it- is it for me?"
Little fish. Ayda felt foolish to not have made the connection before. Of course she had been drawn to that particular bauble, and she knew immediately why in that moment. It was her subconscious reaching out with hopeful fingers.
"Of course it's for you, little fish." She nudged it towards them.
Garthy sniffed and wiped their nose on their sleeve before taking it. "Thanks, miss," they mumbled, before looping it onto the last branch. It flickered and glinted there in a most pleasing way.
"Perfect," Ayda sighed happily for a job well done. Her fingers closed around the last thing in her wicker basket and drew it out. "Now we can share this. My own tradition." It was an orange, fat and juicy and just the right size for two people. "In Solace they stud these with raisins and cloves at Solstice-time," she explained, "which looks pretty, but is a waste of spices."
Garthy clambered to sit next to her and took their half of the orange with an awed 'thanks'. They were quiet as they munched, sucking every bit of juice out of each segment. Ayda let her mind wander in the comfortable silence, mentally checking things off her to-do list, when Garthy spoke again.
"Can I stay with you for Solstice?" They blurted out, their words all in a rush as if they were scared they wouldn't get them out in time.
Ayda blinked at them, wondering if she hadn't made her feelings clear enough. "Little fish," she said, seriously, "I was rather hoping you would stay forever."
*
Ayda brought the notes from her predecessor - as many as she could carry, anyway - and spread them out under the tree so she could lay down on her stomach and read. She was a little in awe of her predecessor already. She had very definite rules for things, and Ayda knew she was supposed to read every note in order, but she was too distracted with questions.
"Is it Solstice already?" She asked Rawlins, who was patiently picking up pages and putting them back in the right order.
"Tomorrow," he answered, "though it's a little relative given our position to the stars."
"Did she buy a decoration yet?"
Rawlins hands stilled. "I believe - yes, I think so. The mistress was determined to make her way out of the library to the marketplace last week, despite her failing health. She returned with something wrapped in tissue paper."
Ayda bounced on her heels impatiently. "Where?"
She was shown to a desk - her desk - and helped onto a perch that was far too big for her. It took them both a few minutes to find what they were looking for amongst the various papers, instruments, and books. Ayda wrinkled her little nose. She would be more organised when she grew up.
The ornament lay in a small drawer, wrapped in the tissue paper. Her clumsy fingers ripped it away to find an oak leaf, made of a sheet of hammered gold.
"The Gold Gardens," Rawlins said softly, making the connection before Ayda did.
Her fingers closed tightly around the ornament and out of all the things she didn't know, she suddenly knew one thing for certain. "Take me there."
*
Ayda rapped her knuckles on the wood of the bar. "I heard this was a place one could attain food and drink," she called out, her voice echoing off the walls.
Her ward turned around and grinned at her. "Mum! Sit down, sit down - I've got chairs somewhere..."
"Don't fuss," she said, batting Garthy's hands away affectionately. "I'm not decrepit. Let me look at you. When did you get back? Oh, you've got another tattoo. You'll have to tell me about the origin of that one, my Zajiri's not what it was. Where's your shirt? Aren't you cold?"
"Mum," they groaned and led her to an armchair that was one of the only pieces of furniture in the dusty rooms. "This is the fashion now. Look, I sourced this one for you special, do you like it?"
Ayda eased herself down into the high-backed velvet armchair and appraised it. "Very nice. Though I think you should be sourcing stools and tables if you want to turn this building into a pub."
"Not a pub, mum, a..." Garthy waved their hands in the air. "A... an establishment. There's going to be a smoking area - don't look at me like that, it's a money-spinner - and I'm going to renovate rooms upstairs for guests." They cut themselves off, eyes sparkling. "Do you like it?" They said again.
"I've already said the armchair is very nice."
"Mum! Not that, the building. My building."
Ayda knew that it didn't matter how she felt about the building. The question Garthy had asked was, "do you like the building," but she had many years of experience being a mother now, and she knew the question they meant was, "are you proud of me?"
"Yes, little fish," she said, smiling. "You've done very well."
Garthy beamed. " A friend of mine's going to move their tattoo parlour down here once we're ready," they said. "And look, I might need your help with this-" they gestured to the start of a large carved rune on the floorboards. "I've made a start, but it needs some more juice."
Ayda felt another burst of pride as she looked at her ward's spellwork. "Ah, that's why you wanted me to find those books on celestial geometry. I can see they were helpful."
"Not half." Her ward was a whirlwind of movement, dragging out crates to show her the contents inside, supplies and treasure they'd sourced on a recent trip across the Celestine Sea. It was one of many trips they had taken in the last few years, and although she was proud of having raised an independent adult, her heart ached a little to be separated. "Oh, and this!" Garthy exclaimed, pulling out yet another package and thrusting it into her hands. "This is for you. It's a bit early, but open it anyway."
"All right, all right," she laughed. "Let an old woman catch her breath." But she was as eager as they were as she opened the little package and drew out the contents. It was a sparkling ornament in the shape of... "An orange?" Yes, an orange, covered in little polished brown stones and wrapped in a red ribbon.
Garthy knelt down in front of her to pick up the ornament and hold it up. "Not just an orange, look? I found this in Solace. You told me they stud oranges with spices and raisins at Solstice - well, they make ornaments like it too. Just as pretty, but you don't waste any food. I know you hate that."
Ayda took the ornament back from them and admired it in the light. Her heart - slower and weaker than it used to be - was full to bursting. "You're so good to remember things like that." She made some quick calculations in her head. It was a little too early to decorate, but... "I'll put in enquiries about a tree tomorrow."
"I'll be over to decorate as soon as it comes," Garthy promised.
"You've got enough work to do here."
"Mum," Garthy shot back, looking appalled. "I'd never miss doing the tree with you. Not ever."
Ayda smiled at them through the sudden lump in her throat, that was hastily swallowed and ignored. "Me neither. It would be quite against tradition." She reached out for their hand, brought it to her mouth, and kissed it.
Garthy was pleased, but their expression wavered a little watching hers. "Mum? Are you okay?"
"Perfectly fine," she said, waving them off brusquely but affectionately. "Now, I was promised a drink?"
*
"No minors," the large woman at the golden door said. "This is a pleasure house, not a daycare."
Ayda folded her arms. Under great persuasion and something that she would refuse to describe as a tantrum, Rawlins had bundled her up in a soft red coat and shiny black boots and walked with her across the city to the Gold Gardens. It had taken a lot of effort, and many stops to rest, and she would not be thwarted now.
"My name is Ayda Aguefort," she said crisply. "I believe someone is expecting me." She held up the scrapbook that Rawlins had helpfully shrunk for her small hands. "I can show you pictures of them if that would help."
Rawlins coughed behind her. "She's also a stakeholder in the building."
The woman frowned at him, confused, but her fellow bouncer nudged her in the ribs. "It's fine," the other man said. "Let them through. Good to see you, Rawlins. Didn't think the little miss would be up and about yet."
Rawlins sighed. "She is... exceedingly energetic."
"May I go in, please?" Ayda asked in as pointed a tone as she could muster. The bouncers stepped aside - one with a confused look, one with an indulgent smile - and she walked into the loudest, warmest, brightest place she'd ever seen.
"The boss is in the back room," the male bouncer called after them. "But I don't know if they'll want to see-"
"Thank you, Christopher," Rawlins called back, and led Ayda through the throng to a quiet corner. Ayda shoved her hands into her pockets and squeezed her fists to alleviate some of the discomfort. It was so loud, and all the different sounds overlapped so that one could be simultaneously overwhelmed by noise yet unable to hear a thing, which was a very disagreeable state of affairs indeed. As was Rawlins's look of sympathy.
"Would you rather we return home now?" He asked.
"No. The back room, please," she said with a determined set to her little jaw. The gold bauble pressed into her fist as she held it tightly in her pocket.
She was not sure who she was expecting to see. Someone who looked like her, maybe. Someone of her height would have been preferable - Ayda understood that 'ward' meant 'a child who is an adult's responsibility', and had not quite managed to connect that image with the idea of someone grown-up. But the person slumped in an armchair in the dark room was certainly grown-up, and staring at her most disagreeably, with hazy, unfocused eyes.
"I'm not - I'm not ready," they stammered, looking at Rawlins.
"I thought that might be the case," Rawlins sighed. "But my mistress was insistent. And unlike your good self at 5 years old, she has wings ."
Ayda wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, but it made the person's lips twist in sympathy. They let out a vast, shuddering sigh, and finally looked at her. Tears sprang to their eyes.
"Lovey..." They breathed, then dragged a hand down their face. "I'm sorry. This isn't how I wanted us to meet."
Ayda took a few tottering steps forward. The air smelled like smoke and something sharp in the back of her throat as she got closer. "Are you Garthy?"
Another shaky sigh. "Yes. Yes, I'm Garthy."
"I'm Ayda," said Ayda.
Garthy laughed, which was a nice sound. "I know, dearie. Believe me, I know."
"I believe you," she said, which made them laugh again. The room was quiet otherwise, and she looked back to see that Rawlins had slipped out and closed the door behind him. When she looked back she fell under a scrutinizing gaze, which she didn't care for. It made her skin feel hot and itchy.
"Please don't stare at me," she said, politely.
"Right. Right, sorry. Mum... mum hated that too." They looked away and blinked rapidly. "You're so young. She warned me, but... you're so young. Are you okay?" They looked back at her and the gaze wasn't as heavy this time. "Are you nervous? Scared?"
Ayda considered this. "She left me a great deal of notes," she explained. "So that I would understand." Her hand closed around the bauble in her pocket. "But there's this tree. And it's empty."
Garthy blinked. "The... tree? I told Rawlins to throw it out. It must be half-dead."
"It's not," Ayda insisted, and drew out the little bauble. "I think this is for you. See?" She opened the scrapbook and pointed to all the pages she had marked with tabs. "She got you a decoration every year."
Garthy took the bauble with a shaking hand and looked at it for a moment. Then they handed it back, let their head fall into their hands, and their shoulders began to shake.
Tears sprang to Ayda's eyes and she started to feel hot again, and nervous, and very, very small. "Garthy?" She whispered.
The shaking stilled for a moment, but they didn't look up. "Yes, lovey?"
Her throat wobbled as she said: "I think I am scared. I think... I'm doing everything wrong."
They looked up at that, and their eyes were suddenly fierce. A second later she was pressed against their chest, legs dangling in the air. It was uncomfortable but she liked the closeness and the pressure of arms around her, so she burrowed in closer and felt the arms press tighter around her in return.
"No," they said. "No, I'm the one getting it wrong. I should have been there when you woke up. Mum said the book would be enough, but she never was very good at looking after herself. That was my job. I should have been there," they said again, and leaned away slightly to look at Ayda. "Can you forgive me?"
Ayda help up the bauble. "Will you come put this on the tree? And stay?"
"I will."
"And tell me stories about your mum?"
"Yes," Garthy said, and then they kissed the top of her head, which she liked very much. "Course I will, lovey."
"Okay then," Ayda said, feeling the weight of the day finally settle on her small shoulders. She curled up against Garthy's chest and let them take the weight of her fully into their arms. "Home, please."
"Home," they agreed. "And for heaven's sake bring that scrapbook with you, before anyone here sees my baby pictures."
*
"It will wear off," Rawlins said to Garthy as they walked back to the library, carrying a sleeping Ayda in their arms. She had refused to move, and they had refused to put her down, so it worked out fine. "It's a coping mechanism used by a phoenix in the early stages of rebirth," Rawlins continued to explain, as if Ayda hadn't explained this to Garthy a dozen times before. "They must remember enough of the basics of life to find themselves shelter before they fully regress. The hyperlexia - reading and writing, her fine motor skills and adrenaline... it will wear off now she's made herself safe. Tomorrow she'll be a normal child."
Garthy shook their head. In front of them the library stood resplendent, dark but for a warm light int he dome that served as Ayda's observatory, office, bedroom, and now nursery. "No, she won't," Garthy said, and held her tight. "She's Ayda Aguefort. She'll be extraordinary ."
*
"I do think Solstice has become, like, totally commercial," Fig said, in between sucking on a red and white striped candy cane that had been sharpened to a fine point. "But this is nice."
"It is," Ayda agreed. Her whole body was fizzing with excitement, (and with the lingering sensation of Fig's minty kisses. Ayda liked mistletoe very much.) She was learning a great deal of new Solstice traditions in Mordred Manor.
"I didn't think they celebrated Solstice in Leviathan," Fabian said from the couch where he and Riz were playing a crystal game.
"We don't," came a familiar voice, "but my mum learned about it years ago and got obsessed with collecting baubles."
Ayda whirled around so hard she spilled some of the mulled cider in her mug. "Garthy!"
"Hello, lovey." Garthy smiled at her and opened their arms as she ran in for a hug, mug helpfully grabbed by Adaine's mage hand before it could spill. "Hello, GAF." The fish somersaulted in his bubble in greeting. "Nice surprise?"
"Yes!" Ayda confirmed, nodding vigorously. "You know I typically do not like surprises, but this is a very nice one. Why are you here?"
"Jawbone invited me, for the party tonight," Garthy said. They were still smiling as they said it, but there was something off about it. Her least favourite type of expression.
"Hold on," Ayda said, and cast Adaine's Comprehend Subtext.
Hiya, friend! Chirped the voice in her ear. Let's see what the problem is here. It looks like Garthy is happy to be here, but they wish Jawbone hadn't invited them.
"Well, that doesn't make any sense," Ayda murmured, and burned another spell slot as Garthy waited patiently, smile turning more indulgent.
Oh, you need a little more? No problem! Well, if Garthy is happy to be here but resents the invitation, and you know that they and Jawbone are friends, then it stands to reason that they wish someone else had invited them. Make sense?
"Ah," Ayda realised, and looked back at Garthy. "You wish I had invited you and not Jawbone."
"I do love that spell, Adaine," Garthy called across the room. Adaine, halfway up a ladder and stringing popcorn garlands across the ceiling, gave a thumbs up.
That was sarcasm, the spell helpfully interjected. But Garthy isn't cross with you.
"I didn't invite you because you don't like to leave the Gold Gardens," Ayda explained. "And I wanted to decorate our tree in the library together tomorrow like we do every year. And I should have said that out loud," she added, only realising it belatedly.
Garthy ruffled her hair. "Ah, now that's a relief. You're right, I don't like to leave my establishment if I can help it," they said. "But I always will for you, you know that, lovey?"
"Yes. Because we're family," Ayda confirmed, and took their hand. "Can I show you the tree? We played 'secret Solstice' and Gorgug made me a bauble shaped like a frog. It is excellent. "
"You can show me everything," Garthy promised, "but I also brought something to show you. Well, mostly to show Fig."
Fig looped her arm around Ayda's and grinned. "What is it, what is it?"
"Oh dear," Ayda said, seeing the wrapped book Garthy had, until that point, been successfully hiding behind their back. "Fig, I do not believe this will be an interesting experience. Perhaps we should see if your mother needs help with food for the party tonight, or-"
"Ayda Aguefort," Garthy said in a tone that was somehow both imperious and mischievous and always stopped Ayda in her tracks. "You wouldn't stop your dear old guardian from reminiscing about Solstices past, would you?"
Ayda heard the sharp intake of breath as Fig's eyes grew wide and practically glittered.
"Is that a photo album?" Fig asked, as if she hardly dared believe it.
"Fig, my paramour," Ayda said urgently, tugging on her arm. "I am begging you, just this once, please skateboard away."
"This," Garthy said, triumphantly presenting it, "is my solstice scrapbook. I got the idea from a scrapbook that my mum made and used to bring out at any opportunity. Even when I brought friends over. Or dates. "
"I understand now," Ayda despaired. "You are not here to join us in celebration. You have come here to seek your revenge on the previous Ayda Aguefort."
"I have indeed," Garthy agreed cheerfully, as Fig clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. "Gather round under the tree, children," they called out to the room at large. "You're about to see the cutest little phoenix there ever was..."