(no subject)

[persephone_kore]

Went ahead and finished last night. I teared up over all sorts of odd places in all three books -- I seem to be in that sort of mood.

Loved the ending. I thought Mogget must be Eight. I suspected the Dog of being Kibeth, too, although then I had changed my mind and thought she was Saraneth for a while. (I was puzzled when she said she had lied about not being one of the Shiners. I thought "just a piece of free magic, freely given to the charter" was fairly suggestive in terms of a way to tell the literal truth about being one of the Seven and yet not make it sound that way.) I shall have to go back through all the correspondences again. I gather Kibeth was one of the two who formed the, ah, woof. *g*

And awww, go Mogget. (And go Sam. Tipping the balance with the sardines. Wonder if that was what Yrael would have mentioned next if Lirael had delayed any longer with the sword.)



And I have this little mental image, which may be utterly silly, but never mind....


Only after they started home -- to the Old Kingdom, that home, but also to home with the family she had just met, where she'd never been -- did Lirael realize that her cold was gone. Whether it had been the Free Magic to pass all the first eight Gates or the Charter Magic to bind Orannis or for that matter Orannis's own fire, she was grateful to have her head and nose clear but rather thought it wasn't a cure she would care to repeat.

The Disreputable Dog had spoken true: Sam did make her a new hand, all of gold and swimming with the Charter marks that made it hers and made it all but live, as agile as the frog that guarded their campsites on the way back (though without, of course, the attraction to mosquitoes). He took more time over it than he had over the sword, simply because there was more time.

The Dead were unexpectedly quiet; many that rose had done so only on account of Hedge, and with him now past the Ninth Gate and then the aftershock of Orannis's new binding, a surprising number of them had simply been washed back. Sabriel handled those remaining, even though she was weary enough to have to be especially careful of Ranna. Lirael did not have to walk in Death again before they arrived, indeed, not until she had healed entirely from burn and bite and the golden hand was complete upon her wrist.

It was strange to see the light shine on it, but it worked just as well as her old one always had. It didn't tire as quickly, perhaps, but that was balanced by a very slight tendency to lose or gain heat too rapidly. Sam was tuning the Charter marks day by day and insisted he would solve that problem before she had occasion to see whether it carried over in the chill of Death. It felt like flesh to the touch, if very smooth, but when she snapped the golden fingers the sound was a chime that made her think of the bells but didn't fit any of them.

Something had crossed back into the Old Kingdom well ahead of the humans' halting progress, bounding with the joy of energy suddenly freed. They had each seen it, though none clearly or sure enough to say so, at different times. A flash of white fur, a flash of white fire. Days later, the Eighth Bright Shiner stared at nothing for a good long time, then licked his fur into place and ambled off, managing to look (if anybody had been looking, and hadn't been blinded by the white-hot Free Magic glow) both decisive and utterly directionless.

Lirael was sitting with The Book of the Dead on her knee, snapping her fingers, trying that and claps to try to guess what effect the changed sounds might have if she should ever have to try them in Death instead of the bells, when she heard a strange sound at the door into the garden. There were three knocks, but then the sound faded and fell, and something scratched lower down. She frowned in puzzlement, then went to open the door. It was an hour yet before dusk would begin to fall....

She opened the door and stared. On the doorstep sat a strangely familiar white cat -- though without a collar.

It looked up at her and mewed, then said, "Well? Can I come in? And have you got any fish?"

"Mogget!" Lirael cried, and to her own surprise bent down and swept the little white cat up into her arms.

Mogget yowled in surprise as she stepped backward into the room cuddling him. "Lirael! What are you DOING?"

The question actually came in three or four voices in ragged chorus, as her shriek had brought others running. Sabriel, Touchstone, Sam, Ellinore, and Nick (arriving a little later and more perplexed than alarmed or speechless) all stared as Lirael froze briefly, realizing what she was doing, and then set the Eighth Bright Shiner rather gingerly on the ground and bowed to him somewhat stiffly before straightening up.

"Er, I... was hugging you. Him," she added to the rest of the room, a hot blush spreading over her cheeks. "It? ...Erm. I beg your pardon." She supposed she should be grateful she hadn't been scratched, or worse. "I was glad to see you, and I didn't think."

"I don't think anybody's ever been quite that glad to see me before, Abhorsen-In-Waiting," Yrael said drily, looking up from putting his fur back in order. "And how do you know you ought to be glad to see me, hey? I am, after all," and his eyes turned to Sameth, "now Unbound."

"Well, I know I didn't always trust you," Sam said slowly, "but you decided to help us when you did have the choice and it really mattered. I'm glad to see you too -- we didn't get to thank you for it then."

"You kept your promise about the fish when you didn't have to at all. I wasn't expecting it, especially considering it looked like the Destroyer getting loose before we got to anywhere they might be swimming. And then you set me free forever," Yrael pronounced with relish. He blinked thoughtfully at Lirael. "And you were not at all dignified. Just now."

"I didn't mean to be rude," she said.

"I didn't think you did." To her surprise, he suddenly changed from cat to the white-fire man-form he'd taken after Sam had loosed his collar for the last time, and held out his arms. "I don't think I minded it really," he said with some surprise in the crackling voice.

Lirael looked at the Free Magic fire, swallowed, and stepped in to hug him again. It didn't burn her, but her golden hand sang very softly, and now she knew whence she remembered its note.

"Now that I don't have to," Yrael observed over her head, "I find I rather like the idea of helping you again. ...Not serving now, though I could have been given much worse masters. I suppose it might just be habit, but I think I missed you all." He looked down and let go of Lirael, letting her step back, and she thought the fire smiled. "Perhaps there's something to be said for belonging."

"Well," Sabriel said, squinting at him, "welcome back, then. But if you go on Shining quite like that it's going to make things very difficult."

Yrael laughed aloud and contagiously, dimming. "I did say I wanted to help, not blind you all. ....Now, is anybody going to answer me about that fish?"