It had been almost a month, and Mint was still shaking her head over what Chester had told them. He'd said the letter his father had written indicated that Claus was his great grandfather! How… odd. And yet, it made sense; the two men had borne some slight resemblance to one another. Their coloring was slightly different, but they had the same silver-blue hair, the same eyes, the same mannerisms…
"I think it's cool," Cress had said, and for him that was the end of it. She almost envied her fiancé and how easily he accepted these things. Chester's mother had been a Morrisson, but she claimed not to be related to the – how had the letter put it? – "the famous Morrissons". She doubted that, but realized that the link must be tenuous at best. After all, the Morrisson line had magic; therefore, they had strong Elven blood. In fact, she seemed to recall seeing a note in Trinicus D. Morrisson's book that the Morrisson men tended to seek out half-Elven wives, in order to carry on the dynasty.
"That doesn't make sense, though," she said aloud, not realizing the words had escaped until she heard them. Fortunately, no one was around to hear. Chester was working on his own house, doing some construction he had said he didn't want them to see yet, and Arche was up on the roof with Cress, ostensibly giving him directions. Mint figured she was probably just being an amusing distraction. It was good; Arche had had a rough time of it for the last couple of decades. Chester had told her and Cress that Arche had left abruptly, according to his father's letter, as soon as she'd learned that Chester was expected. Arche had since said something about spending the time with Brambert and Arsia, only Arsia was a statue at the time and Brambert still wasn't being very good company. So they'd hung around, two extremely depressed, extremely powerful mortals and a statue, for most of Mint's life.
Mint bit her lip at the thought. It wasn't right! Maybe she could learn something from Trinicus' book. Maybe there was a way to go back those eighteen years and do something to fix things.
Her mind made up, the healer stood. Maybe she couldn't cast the spell but she knew there would be others who could and would do so at her request. But first, she had to find it.
None of them had touched the book since their return; they'd all been absorbed in the rebuilding of Toltus and making homes for themselves in more than just the physical sense. The world was a different place and it was taking some adjustment; they had all lost family. There was time now to grieve, scattered irregularly among the long periods of work,
She blew the dust of time and construction away from the heavy red tome. Memories flooded through her at the feel of the pebbly leather under her fingers and she smiled nostalgically.
They'd carried this book through so many battles, so much history (future and otherwise), and it was still largely unmarked by them all. But as she pulled it off the shelf, Mint's fingers slipped and the book crashed heavily to the floor.
"Oh no!" she cried out, kneeling as though afraid it was injured. Indeed, she inspected it as carefully as she might do any other patient. The book seemed undamaged by the fall, but as she opened it she noticed the binding seemed a bit loose. Then she realized that it wasn't the binding but a paper wedged inside it. Curiosity won out and she wiggled it carefully free.
Unfolding it, she glanced at the handwriting which seemed to be very familiar.
"Trinny, my darling sweet Trinny," it began. Mint blinked, surprised. It was hard to imagine anyone calling the stern, formidable magic user "Trinny"! She looked away from the brittle paper, uncertain.
"Whatcha got there, Mint?" Arche chose that moment to swoop through the doorway. "Oooh, a letter! Looks old. Who's it from?"
Mint shook her head. "I just found it in Mr. Morrisson's book, the one he sent to Cress and I when he sent us back in time. I don't know, I just read the greeting."
"Lemme see?" Mint shook her head at Arche's demand.
"I don't think we ought to be reading it," she cautioned.
"Aren't you the least little bit curious?"
Mint had to admit she was. "But that doesn't make it right. We should bring the book back to him, with the letter, and not read it."
"Fine. You don't have to read it," Arche said, smirking. "But I do!"
"Hey!" Mint was startled as the sorceress snatched the letter out of her hands. Mint let go so as not to damage it.
"Trinny? She called him Trinny? I wonder who—" Arche sobered up abruptly. "Mint… I think maybe you should read this." Biting her lip, she handed the letter back to the healer. "I didn't read the whole thing, just the signature."
"The signature?" Mint echoed. Her eye ran down the page until she saw the name. The handwriting. Arche thought she could hear a click as things fell into place.
Mint had taken killing hits and barely flinched. She had endured prison and her mother's death, trekked hundreds of miles through hostile terrain, and never so much hinted at weakness. Only once in all that treacherous time had she collapsed, when Cress had abruptly and mysteriously been transported away (as it had turned out) during the battles at Valhalla by Midgards.
Now, her eyes rolled up in her head and Arche barely kept her skull from clunking heavily on the ground as Mint keeled over in a dead faint.
"Mint? Mint! CRESS! GET DOWN HERE!" Arche inhaled deeply, to raise her voice even louder. "CHEEEEESSSTEEEERRR!" Frantically, she tried to wake Mint.
Both men came running, Chester only moments behind his friend. "What happened?" Cress was already kneeling by Mint. Arche had risen and was casting Ice Arrows into a bucket. "And what are you doing!"
"She fainted," Arche said. Cress was rubbing Mint's hands, patting her face and calling her name. "I figured if we douse her with cold water, maybe she'll wake up."
"That's solid ice!" Chester almost squeaked.
"Got any better ideas, smart guy?"
Mint saved them from another squabble by opening her eyes. "Oh… What happened?"
"You fainted," Arche said simply. "So I called the guys."
"I fainted? Oh," Mint said again as her gaze fell on the letter in her hand. "The letter… I guess you're right, Arche. It's definitely from my mother."
"A letter from your mother?" Chester looked skeptical. "After all this time?"
Mint nodded. "It wasn't addressed to me. It was in Mr. Morrisson's book, addressed to him."
"What does it say," Cress asked softly.
Mint shook her head. "I haven't read it."
"Except the first line," Arche chimed in and quoted it. "Trinny, my dear darling Trinny!" she trilled.
"Trinny?" Chester snorted, exchanging a glance with Cress. The blond warrior looked less impressed but still amused.
"Yeah, somehow I can't picture Trinicus D. Morrisson as a 'Trinny' either," Cress replied, "but something tells me I don't want to know the rest of this letter."
Arche shook her head adamantly. "Well I do! Go on, Mint, read it!"
Mint sighed. She, too, was curious. Had it just been a friendly greeting? Meryl had been one of those people who gave everyone she cared about nicknames…
"…Trinny,
"First, I wanted to say thank you. You've been so kind and helpful through the whole thing that I'm sorry to see you return home. Still, this is what we discussed and I haven't changed my mind. I'm not the marrying sort and I know that this is the right choice for me, possibly for both of us.
"You are a good man and extremely talented in many ways." Mint felt her cheeks warming. It felt so odd to read what seemed to be a love letter from her own mother! "I will always treasure the extreme honor you have paid me by giving me such gifts as your friendship and my daughter."
"He WHAT?" Arche shrieked as Mint stopped reading, her jaw dropping and her mind whirling. The room threatened to go dark again.
"I am going to name her Mint, for your gardens where we spent so many pleasant days – and yes, darling, some very lovely nights."
Mint looked a little green. Chester seemed to be torn between trying not to laugh and freaking out completely. Cress looked as though he'd been hit over the head with a large and heavy object.
Mint shook her head and continued. "Still, I think it's for the best that we keep our distance. You will meet someone who will marry you, and the time is soon, I think. We have shared too much to become strangers, but I fear I cannot let my daughter know who you are to her until she has come into her own. I beg your forgiveness, Trinny, and your indulgence. The time will come and all will be put right.
"With very much love and Blessings, your Merry."
Arche had all but turned purple. "Holy Martel! Morrisson's your father!" she finally burst out. "Wow," her voice hushed quickly. "That must be why you're such a powerful healer! Both of them were really strong; you're like practically a goddess with a bloodline like that!"
The other three stared at her in mute bewilderment.
"Oh, of course. I forget sometimes that you guys weren't there when things were still happening. I was hiding for the last eighteen years, but I wasn't out of the loop."
"I hope you disguised yourself better than you did whenever you sneaked into Ymir," Chester found his smirk.
"So Mr. Morrisson really is your father," Cress said more slowly. Mint still seemed too shocked to speak. "I wonder if he's waiting for you to come to him and say something."
"I bet he is! Come on, Mint, I'll give you a ride!" Arche hopped back on her broomstick and offered a hand to the blonde, who had what Chester called a "two by four expression" as, in his opinion, it made someone look as though they'd just been hit by one. Arche had retorted, the first time she heard him say it, that he said so only because he knew what it was like from personal experience.
She had been surprised when he didn't try to deny it.
"No, let's all go together," Cress said. "It's less dangerous, and that way we can be there for each other."
Mint nodded. "I… I think that's best," she said slowly. "What I want to know is, why didn't my mother want me to know?"
"There's only one person who can answer that," Cress said reasonably. "Shall we?"
The trip to the hereditary Morrisson house didn't take long at all, and it wasn't long before they were knocking on the door. When Trinicus opened it, he looked at them for a long moment and an odd sadness fell over him.
"Come in," he said. Mint still clutched the book to her chest, and the letter was tucked inside the front cover. "I see you found the letter."
Mint could only nod.
"So… Welcome home… Daughter." Trinicus D. Morrisson suddenly looked much older, sadder. Still, the smile was welcoming and warm under the weight of years of sadness and secrecy.
"You don't have to call me father. I understand why your mother didn't want you to know."
Mint shook her head. "I don't."
Trinicus raised an eyebrow and sighed. "She never told you anything about it, did she?"
Blonde hair swished as the young healer shook her head again. "The only reason I know is because of this."
Morrisson nodded in turn. "Ah. Yes, I left that in there deliberately. I just didn't realize you wouldn't have found it until now."
Cress managed to look embarrassed. "We should have come sooner to visit, after all the help you gave us."
"No, not at all! There's been too much for all of us to do, Cress. I must say, I know Marie and Miguel would be very proud of you. You've grown up quite a bit in the last century or so," the old healer grinned. He was not a handsome man, but when he smiled there was an endearing quality, a sweetness that belied his age and experiences.
They all laughed, and as the maid served tea, Morrisson began to tell his side of things.
"You see, when we were young and foolish – and I thank you now, Arche, for not coming around then – we were all convinced of our immortality. All except Meryl. We all thought she was being ridiculous, always being so careful and hoarding her abilities 'against the time they'd be needed,' she said.
"I think that's why she was able to manifest so strongly after her death to free you two," Trinicus added thoughtfully. "One thing about magical power, especially divine power, is that it acts as a focus for that old adage, 'where there's a will, there's a way.' If you save up enough of your energy, you can use it to direct things not normally under your control, even reaching to other planes. I'm still studying that, Mint, but I'll be glad to open my books to you, if you'd like."
Mint's eyes lit up at the thought. Her friends smiled indulgently.
"The problem with Meryl is she was a little too independent for what the rest of us thought was her own good. She had to do everything for herself, up to and almost including imprisoning Dhaos. It made her very strong and very proud, but she was also very fragile at heart.
"I loved her from the time we were kids," Trinicus said softly. "She was always the woman for me, from the time I figured out what women were for. But I wasn't the man for her. No man was. I guess I was the closest she found, though. She loved me very much as best as she was able.
"Bah, listen to me," he said, standing abruptly. "Blathering like an old man, and me only barely in my forties!" He laughed, and it only sounded a little forced.
He refilled the teacups and sat back down. "The short version is, as you read in that letter (and I'm glad you did, for it makes things much easier on me) your mother didn't want to share the responsibility. I think, however, that it was mostly that she didn't want to share YOU. She knew she would always be able to count on me, should something happen to her, but as long as I can remember, she wanted nothing in the world more than a daughter of her own. So she came to me, and we made an arrangement.
"I'll spare you the details," he grinned as four faces turned various shades of red. Chester and Cress were sniggering a little, but were no less embarrassed than the girls.
"She was quite an amazing woman, Meryl… I only wish she could be here today."
Mint's eyes welled, but she took comfort in the fact that Trinicus' did as well.
"We'll leave you two to talk more," Arche said softly. When she turned to go, neither of the two young men followed. She took an arm of each of them and marched them out, Chester protesting furiously.
Mint laughed. "One thing I'll never understand about my mother," she said finally, "is how she could live without being surrounded with her friends."
"She always was," Trinicus answered. "She always was. She just didn't need to be physically with them all the time. Then, when you came along, she seemed to want to keep you to herself, so we respected that. Miguel and Marie always grumbled about that; they wanted Cress to grow up with you instead of just Chester. For some reason they thought he'd be a bad influence."
They laughed together again. "Chester's a good friend."
Trinicus nodded. "He is. They all are, and I pray you never be separated from them for long."
Mint shook her head. "No. I don't intend to be. Unlike my mother, I'm much happier having my family with me," she said with a warm smile for the man in front of her. "ALL of my family."