Without knowing when they had started, Sciona found herself blinking back tears. “I don’t think I could have asked for a father in all of Tiran to replace you two. I wanted to say that.” Aunt Winny, who had never in Sciona’s memory accepted a compliment, shifted in her skirts like a bird fluffing its feathers, plainly pleased but unwilling to acknowledge it. “Ridiculous girl. Off to bed you go—and take your noisy machine with you.” “Yes, Auntie.” Sciona smiled and reached for the spellograph. But before she got there, Alba caught her up in a hug—so tight, Sciona’s eyes bugged out a little, and
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