“I was perfectly clear,” grumbled Kerenza.
“—because it gave me back my love of winter holidays,” Annabeth went on, ignoring the interruption.
The Defenders had gathered around. Tirzah said thoughtfully, “It’s almost likeyourcurse was broken too, Annabeth.”
“That’s true,” Annabeth said, sounding both pleased and surprised. “It was.”
Her gaze was caught by Batcat, who perched on Tirzah’s shoulder. The winged kitten’s yellow eyes opened even wider than usual as she blinked owlishly at Annabeth. As Annabeth slowly looked around the room, Norris realized that she’d been so distracted by first him and then Kerenza that she hadn’t had the chance to take it all in before.
A deep, warm happiness filled him as he watched her incredulous, delighted gaze travel from Batcat to Dali’s dragonfly-winged kitten Cloud, who sat beneath the Christmas tree, stealthily batting at a dangling candy cane ornament made of twisted glass.
“Look up,” said Norris.
Annabeth looked up toward the ceiling, and gave a laugh of sheer joy as she saw Carter’s golden dragonette swooping and diving in a game of tag with Pete’s daughter’s tiny white pegasus.
“Is that a miniature drag—” She broke off with a start and looked down. “What’sthat?”
A hairy blue creature had snuck up and was attempting to wedge itself between her ankles, its incongruously tiny dragonfly wings buzzing madly.
“That’s Merlin’s bugbear, Blue.” Norris stooped and scratched behind Blue’s ears. The bugbear whacked his head against Norris’s legs, sending bright blue hairs floating to the ground.
“Amazing,” she breathed. “Incredible!”
“An incredible nuisance,” remarked Carter. He offered her jewel-bright chocolates on a platter. “Don’t let Blue eat any. He already got into the macarons.”
Annabeth took a chocolate with a shell of swirled pink and red. “Lychee-rose. Delicious.”
Fen took a chocolate with glittering with galaxy colors. Norris selected a green-blue one, which turned out to be chocolate mint.
“How did you two like your Winter Solstice miracle?” Fen asked.
“We loved it,” said Norris.
After the longest night of the year, he and Annabeth had gone to have coffee by the pool and found the patio artfully scattered with the symbols of the Winter Solstice: holly leaves and berries, ivy leaves, oak leaves, and yew leaves. A sprig of mistletoe was caught on one umbrella, as if it had just happened to have fallen there and gotten stuck. None of the plants grew in the yard. They’d stepped under the mistletoe, of course.
“It was subtle and lovely,” said Annabeth. “My sister-in-law Julie would have really appreciated it.”
“We could engineer some more miracles,” Merlin offered as he selected a dark chocolate streaked with gold dust. “There’s plenty more winter holidays. There’s Saint Lucy’s Day, when you eat saffron buns and girls wear a crown of lit candles —”
Night of the Radishes, put in the Dunkleosteus.
That’s not a thing,said Norris.
“—and Night of the Radishes,” Merlin went on.
“Wait,” said Norris. “Night of the Radishes is real?”
“Noche de Rábanos,” said Pete’s mother Lola, who sat on the sofa with a mug of cocoa in one hand and a gingerbread man in the other. “We celebrated it in Oaxaca, when I was a little girl. There was a radish-carving contest in the town square. Giant radishes, not the tiny ones you put in tacos.”
“Maybe you can sneak some carved radishes into our backyard, Merlin,” suggested Annabeth.
“It’s no fun if it’s not a surprise,” said Merlin.
And, of course, the Feast of the Seven Fishes,concluded his Dunkleosteus.
“Is the Feast of the Seven Fishes real?” Norris asked the room at large.
“It’s a traditional Italian Christmas Eve celebration,” said Ransom. “They serve seven different seafood dishes.”
