Homecoming

By Anne B. Walsh

For this Cinderella, midnight is only the beginning...
Avani of Shroca has never danced at a ball. Her world is her bad-tempered cousins' kitchen, and her only pleasure her escapes to the nearby forest, though she must be back by midnight. One night near the beginning of autumn, she overstays her time, and her world changes.
Overnight, Vani is transformed from a cinderwench to a Duke's pampered daughter, courted by the King of Anosir himself. Her only worry now should be the far-off unrest of the kingdom's non-human races. But as she knows, what should be, is not always.
Though Vani makes friends among the young nobles, her truest help comes from her teachers in music and magic, a palace cook, and a storytelling woodcarver. What will she do when the King's laws threaten her mentors?
Vani's destiny seems determined to give her the fairy-tale ending she doesn't want. Will she be able to trick her fate into allowing her a true Homecoming?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne B. Walsh
• Release date: Jan 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301258932

Anne B. Walsh

Anne B. Walsh was telling stories about magic and intrigue from the time she could talk, but it took her twenty years to realize she could make a living at it. Her first novel, historical fantasy "A Widow in Waiting", has its origins in a PBS special which changed her life; her second, family-focused fantasy "Homecoming", takes its inspiration from some of her other writing; and her third, soft science fiction "Killdeer", stems from her constant interest in the ways in which the future and the past coincide. Anne lives east of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with one roommate (Krystal), two black Labs (Buddy and Brando), and two black cats (Starsky and Hutch). Sadly, their Cane Corso mastiff, Bruce, passed away in mid-August 2013, and their first cats, Poppy and Sesame, who helped inform Anne's first collection of short stories, "Cat Tales", passed out of their lives after an accident on Christmas Day 2013. No one ever said life was fair. Anne's parents and siblings live two hours north of her, otherwise known as just far enough away. She has also been writing Harry Potter fan fiction for more than ten years and is known best in that genre as the creator of the "Dangerverse" alternate universe (which inspired "Homecoming"). Beyond writing fiction, Anne's preoccupations include reading fiction; singing anywhere that will have her, including her church and local galas; theatre, especially musicals; all forms of cooking; and her family and friends. Within writing fiction, her preoccupations are much the same, meaning most of her stories involve loving families, delicious food, and good music. Consider yourself warned. A number of projects continue to need Anne's attention as she writes her original novels. Among these are her ongoing fanfiction works in various fandoms such as Harry Potter and Frozen, and the themed fantasy anthologies she co-authors with her friend and fellow author Elizabeth Conall.

Book preview

Dedication

To my first Caparo:

Trey, Rye,

Carle, Modi, and Catling.

And to my second Caparo:

You know who you are.

Thanks for everything.

Acknowledgments

First thanks, as always, go to the inspirations for the story, which in this case are a set of fictional characters. It may seem silly, but they’ve been with me for so long that I really feel indebted to them, especially when you consider that I honestly don’t know where my life would have gone without them. So, a big thanks goes out to the Pack and Pride, the main cast of the Dangerverse.

Second thanks, also as always, go to the people who put up with me: my roommate, Krystal Goulet, who does the putting up with (as well as the reminding to eat, the providing of tea, and the nagging about sleep) on a daily basis; and my wonderful family, as mentioned in the Dedication, who do most of their putting up with long-distance these days but still give me plenty of love.

And finally, a huge and enormous thank you to all my readers of the Dangerverse, who have been so very patient with me through the eight-plus years that I’ve been posting fan fiction, and the large portion of that time that I’ve been promising originals built along the same lines. I really hope you’re going to like what you see, everyone, and remember: it’s an Anne story, with all that implies!

Cast of Characters

Nobles

The Shrocas: Duke Bela of Shroca, Duchess Chrysanta, and their daughter Lady Avani. Vani was stolen from her parents before she was two and not recovered by them until the age of eighteen. She is now learning to be a lady at the Court of the King of Anosir, whom a prophecy seems to state she will one day marry.

The Sommelas: Lord and Lady Sommela; their sons, Paole, Marte, and Stefane; and their daughters, Cari, Peri, and Katiri. Stefane and Katiri are close to Vani’s age and have become friends of hers, Stef tutoring her in dancing and Tiri teaching her court manners.

The Rimas: Sir Drale Rima and his daughter Aysi, another friend of Vani’s, who enjoys seeing Sir Drale’s interesting inventions.

The Farras: Lady Tembri Farra and her grandson Carle, who completes Vani’s usual circle and is most often to be found somewhere in the palace gardens.

Lady Gelinza Hivera: A flirtatious young lady of the Court, interested in Stefane Sommela.

King Malak: The current ruler of the kingdom of Anosir, who came to his throne some twenty years ago by winning a challenge-combat with the previous King. He is strongly human-centric, believing that the other races of Anosir are dangerous, and the laws enacted during his reign reflect his attitudes, resulting in constant, low-level dissent and unrest throughout Anosir.

Servants

Cat: A wandering fiddler, who takes a position as a palace minstrel and becomes one of Vani’s music teachers. He also, secretly, begins to teach her to use her magic.

Skylark: Lark is Cat’s sister, a keyboardist, and another of Vani’s teachers in both music and magic.

Rye: Cat’s wife, a cook in the palace kitchens, who is deaf to mental Speech and has swollen joints but always knows how to soothe Vani on a bad day.

Trey: Lark’s husband, whose mostly-useless legs have led to his chosen professions of woodcarving and storytelling, both of which he can do sitting down.

Catling: Son of Cat and Rye, aged eighteen. He fell ill on the way to the palace and is recovering slowly at an inn a few days away. His twin sister Kitten was lost in the confusion of leaving home and has not yet been located.

Modi: Vani’s personal maid, peasant-born but trained by her mother in courtly ways. Her name is the Linmyra word for sister.

Ron: Apprentice falconer in the palace mews, often spied upon by Vani and her friends for his good looks.

Maté Drasa: Ron’s immediate superior at the mews, he knows that his subordinate has a secret, but takes care not to ask questions Ron can’t answer.

Carolina Mirata: Head cook in the palace kitchens, much taken by Rye’s skill and forthrightness on her arrival there.

Coni: One of the palace librarians, who helps Vani with a research project.

Elsewhere

The Volannas: Lord Mocne Volanna, his wife Lady Beryki, and their son Tyle. Lord Volanna is Duke Bela’s second cousin. The Volannas are part of the dissenting movement against the King, and stole Vani from her family to weaken him. Once they had her, they blood-bonded her to Tyle, rendering him able to steal her magic and control her, turning her into a servant in their home. The blood-bond was blocked when Vani’s parents rescued her, but her lifetime of harsh treatment still causes her nightmares at times.

The Tecas: Lord Dytre Teca, his wife Lady Lipri, their son Branne, and their daughter Enati. Lord Volanna, who is Lady Lipri’s brother, was forced to take in the Tecas after they fled the unrest, started by themselves, which eventually drove them out of their own home in the east of the kingdom. The resulting household is seldom a peaceful or pleasant one.

A Note on Pronunciation

Proper names in Anosir most often have the accent on the second-to-last syllable. Vowels and double consonants are pronounced as follows:

A = ah, as in father

E = eh, as in met

I = ee, as in need

O = oh, as in cold

U = oo, as in food

Y = ie, as in pie

Double L = ly, as in halyard

Double N = ny, as in banyan

Double R = trilled or rolled R sound

An exception to these rules is Duchess Chrysanta, whose name comes from an ancient tongue and is therefore pronounced krih-SAN-tuh. Note that nicknames are subject to the rules of the dominant language.

The rules listed above also hold true for words and affixes borrowed from the language known as Linmyra, as seen below:

Caparo (cah-PAH-roh): a magical oath (see back matter, Glossary)

emal (EH-mahl): too, also, as well

lyrro (LIE-rroh): greatcat (see back matter, The Three Races)

mazo (MAH-zoh): dragon (see above)

-mo: suffix denoting similarity or equality, from the Linmyra for two

mode (MOH-deh): brother

modi (MOH-dee): sister

mumi (MOO-mee): mother, mommy

nequo (NEH-quoh): human (see above)

pape (PAH-peh): father, daddy

-r: the pluralizing suffix in Linmyra, as most nouns end with vowels

ta-: prefix denoting possession, though the vowel may be changed to indicate person and gender

tomexe (toh-MEHK-seh): very much

tymidi (tie-MEE-dee): term of familial affection towards a female

tyrime (tie-REE-meh): term of romantic affection towards a male

tyrimi (tie-REE-mee): term of romantic affection towards a female

viconi (vee-COH-nee): a female mage, a sorceress

vicope (vee-COH-peh): a male mage, a sorcerer

ymidu (ie-MEE-doo): term of familial affection, direct address form

Chapter One

Breath rasping in her chest, one hand high to ward off branches from her face, the other clutching her ragged skirt out of the way at knee level, Vani ran. Only minutes remained in her spell-stolen day, perhaps only seconds now, and if she were not back within her bounds before the clock struck twelve…

Cinderella without the ball, or the glass slippers either, her mind babbled, seeking to distract her from the punishments she knew would be awaiting her at her destination if she didn’t arrive in time. Good thing, too, they’d shatter on ground like this, and weren’t they really made of fur? I’m not about to get a prince falling in love with me, anyway, no matter what I have on my feet, or on the rest of me—

One of her clumsy wooden shoes snagged against a root. She yanked her foot free with a hiss of pain and kept running. Stupid, stupid, stupid me, I should have known better than to stay out so late, and now they’ll know what I’ve been doing and they’ll close the loopholes I've been using to slip out all this time—

{Avani!}

Vani’s throat clenched as the voice, thunderous with anger, resounded inside her mind. The grandfather clock in the entrance hall of the manor house had tolled the first stroke of midnight. The spell which had covered her absence, which had made her seem to be where she ought to have been all along, was broken.

And my wicked stepbrother knows where I’ve been—which sounds like the start of a joke, and don’t I wish it were—especially when you add in the stepmother as well, and the stepfather, whenever he gets back from wherever he’s gone—

The world twisted around her, and she clamped down her teeth to keep from screaming or being sick. She might not be able to hide her fear and nausea from Tyle, but she refused to show it openly and add to the satisfaction he’d find in this night.

Unless I can get close enough to be sick on him. That might be worth what he’d do to me for it.

A gut-wrenching jerk, and Vani dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. Tyle’s magic had deposited her in the courtyard of Ravendale, the manor house towards which she had been running, the baronial seat of the Lords Volanna for generations, the proper habitation for a wealthy nobleman and his extended family.

My home.

Or rather, the place where I eat and sleep and do my work. If a home, a real home, is a place where you feel happy and wanted and welcomed, I haven’t had a home since I was sixteen months old.

Seventeen years is a long time to wait for something I should have had my whole life.

She kept her eyes on the packed dirt of the courtyard, preferring it to the smirks and sneers she knew were waiting on the steps. Most of the family would be there to greet her, even Lady Volanna with her cane. Lord Dytre, in his wheeled chair, seldom left the house, and usually demanded his wife stay by his side at all times, but Vani was sure they would be waiting in the entrance hall, within earshot of the fun.

And my Lord Volanna didn’t do so well there, did he? She didn’t bother to keep her thoughts quiet, deliberately lowering her mental wall so that not only Tyle but the whole clan could hear her. He thought he got rid of his shrew of a sister, Lady Lipri, marrying her off to the second son of the Teca timber fortunes. And then, not three years later, back she comes, home burned and husband crippled from rabble-rousing, money all spent and a baby on the way…but he can’t throw her out of the house, now can he? That wouldn’t fit the fine picture he likes to show the world, the man of letters, the musician, the historian—

{That’s enough about my father,} snapped the voice she had been expecting. {Show some respect.}

Vani buried her unspoken Make me under the effort of getting to her feet. Tyle Volanna, son and heir of Lord Mocne Volanna, had never been known to turn down a dare.

Especially not one he can win so easily. But whatever he may be able to do, he cannot force me to cower before him.

She squared her shoulders to face her so-called master, taking comfort from the weight of her only valuable possession where it hung against her breastbone. To anyone else, her locket would be worth nothing but the little weight of the gold in the case, almost the same color as the skin it rested on, and the curious twisted chain that supported it above and below—I've always wondered why it was worked that way, though I suppose I'll never know—but she wouldn’t have traded it for anything short of her freedom.

The ivory medallions behind the delicate filigree knot with its eight strands bore likenesses of her parents.

I know they’re dead, but this, the last gift they must have chosen for me, brings their love and their strength close to me anyway. When I have them there against my heart, it’s not important what everyone tells me I am or what anyone can force me into doing. I know who I am and what I was born to be, and no one can make me be anything else.

Not even the boy with the power of blood over me, and the ability to steal my magic whenever he so chooses.

Avani, my dear, you ought to know better than to think I won’t catch you sneaking around eventually. Tyle looked down his nose at her, an operation made easier by his place several stairs above her. "Especially when it’s the middle of the night, and I know I haven’t given you permission to go out. Were you trying to make a rendezvous with some plowboy?"

What plowboy would that be? Vani snapped back, her temper rising, reckless of the consequences she knew would come. Judge for yourself if you don’t believe me, but you barely let me out of the kitchen and never past the courtyard walls, so how could I meet anyone except your family? She glared past Tyle’s shoulder at his cousin Branne Teca, older by a year and a half, who lounged at his ease against the wall of the house and returned her a lazy smile.

Yes, past the walls. Lady Beryki Volanna, Tyle’s mother, stumped down the steps, supporting herself with her curiously twisted walking stick. Let us discuss that. How did you evade the wards in our walls, Avani? The wards which, I might add, are there for your protection?

Ah yes, my protection. Lest anyone loyal to our rightful King should ever discover that the daughter of the Duke of Shroca, King Malak’s most faithful subject, did not die with her parents in the influenza epidemic all those years ago. For some reason I have never understood—perhaps only to weaken the King by leaving the largest fief in the kingdom without its rightful heir—my father’s second cousin took it upon himself to snatch me away in the dead of night, to bind my magic to that of his only son, and to make me the cinderwench of his household, the lowest of the servants, instead of the lady I ought to have been…

You may as well answer, Tyle put in. Save us both the trouble of my digging it out of your mind. His eyes swept across her contemptuously. What you have of it.

Lifting her chin, Vani kept her face resolutely forward, angled away from the youngest child of the household, Branne’s sister Enati. No matter what they have tried to make of me, I am a lady, in my heart if not in my manners or appearance. And a lady does not betray her allies.

Well, if you insist. Tyle gave a weary-sounding sigh, seated himself on the stairs, and focused his penetrating gaze on Vani’s face.

{Tell me,} his Speech-voice thundered inside her head, pounding against her wall with the ferocity of the ocean, seeking weak points to attack and tear down. {Tell me where you spent your few paltry moments of freedom. Tell me how you found a weak point in the wards to have them. Tell me who helped you stretch our bond so I would not know. Tell me. Tell me…}

Vani sucked in a breath through her teeth as her first defenses failed under Tyle’s attack. Quickly, she dropped to one knee, the better to keep her balance, and shunted him into the first memory which came to her: herself at age four, assigned to keep little Nati, age two-and-a-half, quiet for a few hours, and the picture book on the three peoples of the world of Trycanta which had finally turned the trick.

"Look, Nati, these are the dragons, the mazor, the people who have scales and wings to fly." Her own remembered voice echoed clearly within her mind, and Tyle grimaced, pulling back. Vani grinned a little and made the memory louder.Can you say mah-zoar? This is a mazi, a girl like you—say it with me, mah-zee—and this is a maze, a boy like your brother. A mah-zeh, very good! And here on this page, these are the greatcats, the lyrror, the people who have fur and four legs to run—yes, lie-roar, that’s right! What a clever girl—

Enough, Tyle said aloud, breaking the contact. A good try, to bore me out of your mind with nursery lessons, but you’ve given yourself away in any case. He rounded on his cousin, absently Speaking a firm command of {Stay} to Vani. "What were you thinking, Nati? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to let her run loose?"

Your cousin is absolutely right, Lady Beryki took over, glaring at her niece, who shrank back into her corner of the stairs as though willing herself invisible. "Heedless child, more like your parents every day. If Avani had been hurt outside our walls, even killed, or worse, if someone had seen her…"

Why would you think I’d let anyone see me like this? I have a few shreds of self-respect left to me, my lady, despite your and your son’s best efforts to the contrary…

Ignoring Lady Beryki’s nattering, Vani bowed her head and focused on getting enough air through the choking bonds in which Tyle’s power wrapped her, taking mental stock of her tattered and inexpertly patched clothing, the ladies’ castoffs all; her badly snarled hair, the same shade as the wood of the black clevernut tree she’d been climbing when she realized she’d overstayed her time; and her missing shoe, exposing one slender, four-toed foot (she wondered sometimes what spell the Volannas might have worked to hide the place where her smallest toes must have been amputated to power the dark spells that held her bound).

All I’ve ever done since Nati advanced far enough in her magic lessons to let me out of your precious wards for a day is roam over the hills and through the forests a bit, climb a few trees and breathe some fresh air, before I’m forced back here to my chores by her spell running out at midnight. Besides, even if I were willing to swallow my pride and beg for help, where would I go? The only neighbors you have for miles are your tenant farmers and your fellow malcontents, most of whom would hand me back to you in a heartbeat—

She went still, seeing the Volannas’ anger in a new light through this knowledge.

So what has changed that I don’t know about, that you’re suddenly afraid to let me out of your sight?

A tiny sound, a gasp or a sob, caught her ear. Vani looked up.

A fair-haired lady in a gown of blue, visible in the light of the torches mounted on the lintels of the courtyard’s main gate, stared at her with wild eyes the same earth-brown as Vani’s own. Vani stared back, her throat tightening at the sight of one of the two faces she knew better than her own. This was impossible, and yet it was happening…

Mother? she whispered with what breath she had.

My child! The Duchess Chrysanta clenched her hands tight. Bela! she cried aloud, throwing her head back. Bela, they have her! She is here!

Mother! Vani leapt to her feet, tearing through Tyle’s fraying bonds with ease—

And a shell of swirling magic sprang into place about her, holding her back, cutting off her view of the courtyard and her mother, her mother alive and here—her mother who had called out her father’s name as though she expected an answer—

No! Vani screamed, beating her fists against the shield. No! Curse you, Tyle! Let me out!

{Never!} Tyle shouted at her in silent Speech, his words striking her mind like blows, staggering her even as his pull on her power sent her to her knees. {You’re mine! They can’t have you!}

Run away, you fool, Vani hissed, pushing herself upright again. A cold and sure anger had replaced her first panicky rage, for what could Tyle, even bolstered by his whole family, hope to do against her parents, by all accounts two of the finest mages the kingdom of Anosir had ever known? "Run, unless you want to be my slave now."

Tyle laughed scornfully. {Do you think I’m afraid of some puny Duke and his cold-hearted Duchess? They could never take me, and they will never have you, nor you them! Not even their images!} A finger of magic whipped inward from the shield and wrapped about Vani’s locket, crushing the delicate gold cage and the ivory portraits within.

Vani howled her own laughter. Destroy their faces if you will—they are here! You cannot change that!

{I can keep them away from you! I can defend what is rightfully mine!}

Rightfully yours? Vani snarled, fisting her hands as though she could strike Tyle from where she stood. I am yours no more than you are mine, and it is time you danced to my piping for a change! Run, little lordling, run away and save yourself, and never come near me again if you know what’s good for you!

She threw herself against the shell, once, twice, three times, ramming it with her shoulder. On the third, she felt it start to give; at the same moment, Tyle’s draw on her power wavered. Gathering herself up, Vani flung her body for a fourth time at the wall holding her back—

It burst open, and she fell through into the arms of a tall man dressed in gray, a man whose hair grew as thick and dark about his head as Vani’s own, and whose eyes shone with more than triumph as he held her close.

Father, Vani gasped, and began to cry in earnest against the velvet shoulder of Duke Bela of Shroca.

* * *

A tale as wild as any in a storybook, yet true, for I lived it.

Vani dotted her last I, then set her pen in the holder while she pondered how to phrase her next paragraph.

I remember little of those next few minutes. Or hours, to be truthful. Only tears, and embraces, and no more need of pictures in ivory and gold with the reality beside me. Finally, finally I understood why anyone would treat a helpless child the way I was treated.

The birth of an heir to one of the King’s closest counselors had not gone unnoticed by the Seers attached to the royal court. One of them had called out at the moment Avani first took a breath to cry, and by the time she was bathed and swaddled and lying in her mother’s arms, copies of the prophecy had been brought to the King and to the Duke. Vani closed her eyes to imagine her father, frowning over the scroll, reading aloud from it that his wife might hear the fate of the daughter they had named for the affinity of her magic in the ancient language of his family.

Beware the child of the earth, the prophecy read, for her destiny is doubled. In her shall live the power of two, and without her shall the challenger-King ever fear for his throne. Where she steps, she shall conquer, and whom she battles, she will defeat, for her power in its fullest is beyond understanding. When she admits her fears but fights them still, when she walks twice through darkness and emerges unharmed, let her then wed the one who bears the crown, and victory shall blossom from her arms.

The final line still gave her chills, though she had first heard it nearly a month ago. Wed the one who bears the crown. Who can that be but the King? And King Malak has never married, for the unrest in the kingdom has always kept him too busy to seek out a suitable bride. The discontent of the greatcats and dragons with his reign is understandable, I suppose, since the old king was so much more lenient with them, but Malak was within his rights by the law of Anosir to issue a challenge for the throne, and he won the battle fairly…

It would be an uneven match, the King’s fifty years to her eighteen, but she had heard of many worse. Besides, what mattered for a Queen was not that she be the same age as her King but that she be able to bear him heirs, and even forty was old for a woman to have children. Fifty was impossible.

And now, of course, I see why the Volannas ground me down so thoroughly. If I learned only to feel fear and never to fight against it, if my magic’s power was taken away so that I could never know how to use it, then I could never keep a King from fearing for his throne, nor marry him and give him victory.

But fate has the last laugh after all. Vani rose and crossed to the mirror hanging on one wall, checking her fingers for inkstains before she smoothed her hair back from her face and straightened her gray and blue gown. The Volannas stole me from my cradle and tried their best to break me, but my parents have helped me put myself back together, and I will never have to worry about being drained of my magic again.

Though her parents had been unable to remove the bond with Tyle from her power—it was etched into her blood, and she would never forgive her captors for that—her mother had thoroughly blocked it, after first letting her father lay a trap or two for any mental hand which might come prying down the bond, hoping to regain control of Vani or snatch some of her magic away.

So I’m safe here. Safe, well cared for, and with a destiny before me any lady in Anosir, or even over the whole of Trycanta, must envy. My true parents have found me after seventeen years of separation, and the people who held me captive for all that time have run away like the cowards they are.

Why am I still unhappy?

Vani gazed into her own eyes, but no answers awaited her there.

* * *

A strongly-built feline, as tall at the shoulder as a man’s hip, paced restlessly about a small fire, reduced to glowing coals after a night’s burning. His solid tawny coat proclaimed him lyrre rather than lyrri like his mother, whose black spots stood out vividly against her golden fur as she slept curled next to his father. He paused to breathe their scents and find calm, but instead his anger flared higher as he felt again the lack of another who ought to have slept there as well.

On the other side of the fire, a voice cried out. The lyrre turned, and a moment later a well-muscled and tawny-haired young man knelt beside a teenage girl, who had struggled upright in her blankets, her eyes wide with horror. Hush, little sister, he whispered, tapping her lips with a finger. Don’t wake them. {But do talk to me,} he added into her mind. {What is it, cousin-love? What’s the matter?}

{Oh, Ty!} The girl clung to him, shivering. {I Saw her in my dreams…standing tall and proud before the King, joking with him and laughing…wearing her father’s colors, flirting with every boy there…it was like she was born to do it, and she loved it! I could See she did!}

{Born to do it we can’t deny, and love it her liars of parents have told her she ought to. Stinking fullbloods that they are.} The young man’s mental voice resounded with disgust, his blue eyes sparking anger. {But it won’t last, Nati. It can’t. You know how strongly she’s bound to us, to me. She may forget where she belongs for this little while, but she can’t forget forever. Soon or late, she’ll come back to us.}

And it will be soon, Tyle Volanna vowed to himself, still holding and soothing his small cousin. I will not be stopped. He scowled at the memory of the pain which had resulted when he had tried to reach Vani through their bond several days earlier. Not after coming this far. Not after pledging my life, my magic, and my sacred honor to this cause, after swearing the most binding oath of the three races on it.

His hand rose to a small item he wore around his neck, hidden under his tunic. Avani of Shroca is the key to our ultimate victory or defeat, and it was through my carelessness that she was stolen by our enemies. Thus it falls upon me to bring her back to her rightful place here among us.

Or to die trying.

Chapter Two

Good morning, Avani, said Duchess Chrysanta—Mother, she’s my mother and wants me to call her that, I have to remember—as Vani entered the small sitting room. I trust you slept well.

Very well, thank you, Mother. And had another strange dream, but that chalky potion you give me before bed to keep the dreams away is worse than the dreams are themselves, so I think I’ll keep that to myself. Dreams mean nothing and harm nothing. I hope the same is true of you.

It is, my love. Her mother’s smile and tone were no warmer than was polite, but Vani’s heart rose nonetheless. Praise in any measure from either parent was to be treasured, all the more because it was so hard to come by. Come sit with me, and perhaps you can finish that blue blossom you started yesterday before Morning Court.

Of course, Mother. Vani crossed the room and started to sink down onto the sofa, then remembered and gathered two handfuls of skirt so that she would not crease it when she sat. I never had to worry about creases with my old clothes…

Mother’s nod was approving, and Vani warmed inside again. As she picked up her embroidery frame, she found the courage to ask one of the questions she had been asking herself earlier. Mother, is there some reason— She stopped short, recalling one of her mother’s dictums: A direct question demands an answer, and a lady never demands.

I did not catch what you said there, Avani. Mother’s voice this time was decidedly cool.

Quickly, Vani rearranged the words. It would please me to know if I have offended you, or Father, by befriending the people I have. You do not seem to approve of them.

Ah. Mother tied a knot in her thread and slid the needle down through the cloth again. It is not for our sakes that we do not approve of them, sweet child, but for yours. I am afraid some vestiges of the spells with which you were bound may yet linger in your mind, and prejudice you towards certain affiliations.

Vani frowned. I don’t understand. One spell was laid on me to keep me from straying from the house and grounds, and another to make me loyal to the family in my deeds and words, but there was never one that controlled my thoughts…

Your father fears they were designed to work into your mind if ever they were broken. Mother picked up the scissors, cut her thread off short, and pulled it from the needle. A cruel trap, meant to act only when you returned to us. He was able to remove most of them, but a few traces remain. We had hoped to overcome the effects without telling you of them, as we thought it would frighten you to know that spells may be changing the way you think.

It does frighten me. But I still wish you had told me before this. I may be a child by law, but I can think and reason like an adult, and I deserve to be told what affects me.

Startled by the bitter tone of her thoughts, Vani shook her head. How do they—I mean, I would be grateful to know how the spells change my thoughts.

And if they might be responsible for my strange dreams.

Mother rethreaded her needle with gold. They do not change your thoughts, precisely, but incline you towards a certain way of thinking. You will be more willful, more self-centered, and quicker to anger under their influence than you would be otherwise. As well, you will seek out others like yourself. It is for that reason that your father and I disapprove of the friends you have chosen…

Because you fear that I wasn’t doing the choosing, but the spells were doing it for me, Vani finished. But none of my friends are quick-tempered, Mother—Stefane, maybe, but he knows it and fights it, and lets his anger burn bright so it will burn out before the sun goes down. And self-centered? How could Stefane and Katiri be self-centered as the youngest of six children in a family whose only wealth is their bloodline and their kindness to others?

Mother turned to look at her with eyes beginning to spark, but Vani’s words would not be stopped. Aysi never thinks about herself; all her attention goes to her father’s strange machines, to working out what she can build and craft next! And Carle loves his flowers so much I think he would cut his hand to water them with his blood if he had nothing else. Does that seem self-centered to you?

Perhaps not, Mother said in a tone of warning, but willful and quick to anger I do have cause to believe you, my daughter, no matter what your friends are. And it may be that these young people by themselves are unexceptionable, but no man stands alone. They have families, and those families have not always seen as clearly as your father and I on the subject of power.

On the— Vani realized all at once what her mother was trying to say, and her hands tightened around her embroidery frame as if it could protect her. Do you mean—I hope you will not say that my friends’ families are, or were…

Might be, Mother amended. Only might be. Our law allows for a combat challenge to a reigning king as a means of keeping down bloodshed when a tyrant must be deposed, not as a cure-all for petty grievances, but there are always those who cannot accept that. Who try to undermine our domestic stability, in the interests of making the present King appear tyrannical and garnering the necessary popular support for a challenger to not only defeat him but remain upon the throne thereafter. But yes, Avani, I fear your friends’ families have distinct tendencies in that direction. This Stefane and Katiri you mention are the youngest of the Sommelas, I believe?

Yes, they are.

I know that you were kept sequestered in your former life, Mother said slowly, as though she were searching for the right way to tell Vani an unpleasant truth. "You may not have seen many guests to the house. But your father has looked into the past, and he has seen the Sommelas paying many calls on the Volannas and the Tecas. I find it hard to believe that they could come so often and have no knowledge

Reviews for Homecoming

[Brie Donning · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love the family sense of Anne's stories.
Reading this after being fully immersed in her fanfiction, I feel I may be a little over critical and that may have made it harder for me to immerse myself fully in the story.
Homecoming. had an odd feeling of familiarity with being too similar.
The world Anne has created is fascinating. I loved her races and her magic. On the magic though, I really feel she could have added more detail. There was a lack something. Richness I might call it. I hope she does continue the story because there's so much room for more in this story.

The characters were well drawn and realistic for the most part. The first time I read this I had just been reading Anne's Dangerverse fanfiction, and I got distracted by the slight parallels between characters. The second time I was able to see them fully as their own people. There could probably be deeper characterization with some of them, but I'm sure that will come if a sequel is ever written

As for the plot, it was solid and enjoyable. I saw through some things immediately, but only due to my over exposure to her work.

Overall a great story.