by Diane Duane
Around her she thought she could almost see the sky’s light dimming moment by moment. Bobo, what time’s sunset?
Four thirty-one.
“I might not be imagining it, then,” she murmured. And then at the bottom of her vision, she caught sight of something unexpected: a glow under the snow, a sign of the embedded transit circle waking up. He’s early, she thought, stepping back.
A moment later a cold cinnamon-scented breeze blew in her face, and Filif was standing there, as suddenly as if a tree with its lowest branches demurely veiled in mist had suddenly grown on the spot.
He looked at Nita with all the berries on that side, while using the others to gaze up and around him. “Dai stiho, my cousin!”
“Dai, you,” Nita said, and stepped into the transit circle as soon as it had finished discharging, and buried her arms in among the fronds to give him a big hug.
It was at that moment that a light breeze sprang up. Nita felt the sparkle of breezeblown snowflakes on her cheek just a bare second before one of the trees above them let slip some loose snow on top of them.
They both laughed at that, and Nita reached up to brush Filif off a little. “I was early…” Filif said.
“I don’t care,” Nita said. “It’s so great to see you! This is going to be so much fun.”
“Where’s Kit?”
“Over at his place helping keep his folks calm. This is their first time to have a bunch of non-Solars over…”
“And they’re so kind to have me! I can’t wait for this.” He shivered with excitement.
At least Nita hoped it was excitement. “You know, I’ve never even asked you. Does it snow where you are? Do you even get winter?”
“What? Of course it snows,” Filif said. “Demisiv has a fairly pronounced axial tilt. And a lot of highlands. The climate’s temperate most of the year, but in the depths of the cold season we get quite big storms, sometimes. Normally no one’s too bothered. In the dark season a lot of people elect to go dormant and just wait it out. Others… stay more active, like to get around then.” He fell silent for a moment. “A long story.”
“But you’re okay with this?”
“Yes, of course.” He ruffled out his branches. “This feels quite homelike, actually. The temperature range isn’t far off.”
Nita paused. “This is possibly the most idiotic time possible to be asking you this,” she said. “But… are you okay with all this? Because you understand about the normal Earth Christmas trees now, don’t you. And where they come from. And what happens to them.”
Filif paused too. “Life is life,” he said. “But I did do my research before I came. Those lives have been brought about just for this purpose, haven’t they?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Well, I can feel that. So can they.” Filif rustled his branches as a little more snow fell on him from the branches above. “That being the case, we should allow them all the dignity of accepting what they’ve been destined for. And of knowing that they’re making the best of it: in some cases, not just with acceptance, but great joy.”
Nita nodded. “It seems a lot to ask of them…” Nita said.
“It’s not what you’re asking,” Filif said. “It’s what they’re giving. Gift is a powerful state from which to approach the world…”
Again there was that sense of what Filif was saying having come up from some great depth. But even when he was at his goofiest and most excitable, Nita had never had trouble feeling, at a slight remove, the underlying strength from which sprang everything Filif did and said, and in which he was powerfully grounded. When that power revealed itself in the middle of a wizardry, sometimes it took you by surprise. Nita wasn’t going to push the issue at the moment; if Fil had something that needed saying, explanations would be forthcoming soon enough.
“Anyway,” Filif said, “ you should relax. I’m not a newbie here these days: you don’t have to hide the salad bar from me any more.”
Nita burst out laughing. “Good!”
“And after all this time, I’m finally here to get decorated. So let’s get on with it!”
“Right,” Nita said. “Sker’ret’s put a receptor site out in Kit’s back yard to make transiting in easier for people.”
“Shielded, I take it, so as not to discomfit the neighbors…”
“Absolutely.” Nita walked them both back a step or two into the center of the transit circle. “You set?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go!”
***
A heartbeat later, the two of them came out in Kit’s backyard. “It’s going to be a zoo in there,” Nita said. “Carmela’s mama decided all of a sudden that she was not going to let her daughter mess around with her best tableware. She was going to set up the buffet herself.”
“If I didn’t know better,” Filif said, “I would suspect Carmela planned it that way in order to get her mother to do the heavy lifting.”
Nita snickered as she reached down to her charm bracelet for the empty-ring charm that held the simplest of several invisibility spells. “You know her too well,” she said as she pulled the bright Speech-tracery of the spell out of the charm, expanded it into a broad faintly-glowing network, and threw it over the top of the two of them. “Not that there’s all that much to do. Sker’ret had Crossings Catering transit the food in about an hour ago. It’s all in disposable serving trays and bins and things…”
They headed up across the snow-covered lawn of Kit’s back hard toward the house. “There’s no rush about installing the puptents,” Nita said. “Sker’s put in a hub to make the installation easier. Just plug your wizardry in, and the hub’ll do the rest.”
“He seems to have thought of everything,” Filif said.
“Happiest when he’s organizing,” Nita said, “that’s our Sker’.”
They went in the back door, through the kitchen. There were four or five pots on the stove, from which wonderful smells were arising: mulled wine, hot chocolate, hot cider. Christmas music was floating out of the living room: as a song finished and Nita heard a veejay’s voice, she realized that the TV had one of the big music video channels on. “You are going to hear every Christmas carol ever written before this is over,” she said to Filif, flipping the invisibility spell off them and collapsing it again.
“I take it that’s a good thing?”
“We’ll see what you think by this time tomorrow.”
They headed into the dining room. The table was covered silverware and napkins and cups and glasses, and a whole lot of food. Some of it was local—Nita immediately recognized Kit’s mama’s buffalo wings and the little deviled-egg and cream cheese and chilli hors d’oeuvres that she liked to do on crackers. But the rest was covered with human and alien-biology delicacies from the Crossings, everything carefully labeled. Nita made a private resolution to get back here as soon as she could and check out the details, as some of the food looked familiar, and if she didn’t move fast, Kit would shovel it all down his face before she got a chance.
“Come on, Fil,” Nita said, “come meet Kit’s pop and mama!” She pulled him around into the living room, having caught a glimpse of them in there through the passthrough; they were hanging a last few garlands up near the ceiling.
Nita pulled Filif over to them. “So here’s the guest of honor!” Nita said. “Juan Rodriguez,” Nita said, “Marina Rodriguez, this is Filifermanhathrhumneits'elhessaiffnth.”
Kit’s pop’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything Nita immediately added, “Everybody calls him Filif, so don’t even bother trying to pronounce the long version. It always takes me a couple of days to even remember how.”
“Estimable senior cousins,” Filif said, bowing, “thank you for your welcome.” And then he straightened up and offered Kit’s pop a long branch, and his mama another.
They both stared at these for a moment, and then took them. “Nice to meet you, Filif,” said Kit’s pop. “So nice!
” said his mama.
“A pleasure on my part as well! I’m very excited about what’s going to happen.”
“Well, we’re excited to have you! And we’re glad you’re here finally,” said Kit’s pop. “It’s been so strange not having a tree already. It’s felt almost unnatural. But we’re good now.” He beamed at Filif. “You’re what… six feet easily, I’d say!”
Filif thought about that for a moment. “Yes, I’d say so,” he said. “And about five feet in diameter at the base.”
“It’s going to be unusual to have a Christmas tree that’s so cooperative,” said Kit’s pop. “But look, you should enjoy the party for a while first! We like to let it get good and dark before we start decorating… it’s more impressive, then, when the lights go on.”
“That’s fine,” Filif said. “What do you normally do at this point with a… locally acquired tree?”
“Well, first of all unwrap it outside — normally you bring it home wrapped up in webbing so the branches don’t get hurt. And after that, leave it outside for a little while to let it relax and help the branches find their right shape again.”
Filif rustled a little in agreement. “It makes sense,” he said. “If you like, perhaps I’ll go stand outside for a bit and get myself acclimatized.”
“Uh… won’t the neighbors see you?”
“Not at all,” said Filif. “Nita handled it when we came in, but I’m as good at being invisible as any other wizard There are lots of ways to do it. Once I stop moving, they’ll see a wrapped up tree sitting leaning against the side of your garage while you get the room ready.”
“There’s zero need for that,” said another voice. It was Dairine, wandering in out of the living room. She was in a long green silky top and darker green floppy pants, something Wellakhit if Nita was any judge. “Sker’ did a smart thing and shielded the whole back yard. The front’s open, but he did a selective visual wizardry with the windows: nobody human will be able to see any of the non-Solars through it, and the filter spoofs anything unaffected so it can’t be seen either.”
“Probably that’s a good idea,” said Kit’s mama. “Especially lately… Well, come on, Filif, what do you like to eat or drink? Or do you want to wait till you’ve come back in?”
“I think Sker’ret will have brought some rooting compound for me,” Filif said. “It’s what I’ll be standing in while decorated.” He shivered again, that excited gesture.
“It’s in the dedicated corner already,” came Sker’ret’s voice from the kitchen. “A big pot of that acid stuff you like, Fil.” And in came Sker’ret, apparently after a visit to one of the storage closets in the back of the house. He was walking on only a few pairs of legs, and with all the others he was carefully holding three other piles of serving plates above his upper carapace.
Nita had to turn and stare, fascinated. “I didn’t even know your legs hinged like that!” she called after him.
“Apparently they do,” said Sker’ret, and kept on going into the dining room.
“Where’s Kit?” Nita said.
“He’s upstairs changing,” Carmela said as she came wandering into the living room from the back of the house. She looked very much the Christmas hostess in a glittery red tunic top and red-and-white leggings with a very subdued candy-cane pattern on them, and low red boots to complete the effect.
“Fashion plate,” Nita said as Carmela grabbed Filif and hugged him, half vanishing into his branches and making some of his berry-eyes on either side of her pop a little.
“Yes, well, with such a special occasion you have to make a little effort,” Carmela said. “Kit’s doing his best but I don’t know if it’s going to be enough…”
Footsteps were coming down the stairs. “I heard that!” said Kit’s voice. “Just because some people can’t manage to find themselves a genuine collectors’ item like this…”
Kit came down into the living room, turning toward the group gathered there, his mouth open… and then stopped dead.
“Oh no,” Nita said, and started gasping with laughter. “Oh no!” Because Kit was wearing black jeans and sneakers and a ridiculous hairy angora-knit crewnecked construction adorned with fake Icelandic patterns in red and white, and scattered all over with revolting embroidered green yarn Christmas trees with little sewn-on Mylar ornaments.
They stood there in shock, staring at each other as Kit’s mama and pop burst out laughing in unison. “You look like the Bobbsey Twins,” Kit’s mama said.
“Who?” said Kit and Nita in unison.
Mrs. Rodriguez threw a glance at her husband, then gazed briefly at the ceiling as if begging for help from some unseen source. “Generation gap,” she said. “Never mind.” She headed for the kitchen.
“I didn’t mean for you to buy it,” Kit said, “I meant for you not to buy it! So I’d be the only one having it.”
“Emailing me pictures of the thing was no way to get me not to buy it!” Nita said. “What am I, six?”
Dairine pushed past her toward the dining room, snickering. “No better than eight on a good day,” she said.
“Whatever you do,” said an Irish voice from that direction, “don’t change. Don’t either of you dare change.”
Nita turned. There, leaning in the dining room doorway, having apparently just arrived, was Ronan. He was in black, as usual… but for a change, surprisingly formal blacks. Trousers instead of jeans, shiny black brogues instead of goth boots, a very slim-fitting black shirt with black glitters in it, and to top everything off, a Santa hat in white and black.
Nita burst out laughing. “What are you supposed to be, some kind of dark ‘jolly old elf?’”
Ronan waggled his eyebrows. “Other people can worry about who’s nice. I prefer to concentrate on the naughty.”
“I don’t even want to know,” said Kit’s mama as she came back into the room with a tray full of glasses of hot cider. “Nita?”
Nita grabbed one. “You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” she said to Ronan.
“Wanted to get out before it got too crazy. We’ve got weather like you’re going to get.”
That surprised Nita. “Can’t be the same system—”
“It’s not. Trust me, we don’t need your help to trigger major snow events! We’ve got Siberia.” Ronan wandered over to where some buffet trays had been laid out on one of the low living room tables and went picking among the crackers piled up there. “And we’re getting hammered. A foot on the ground already and lots more coming. Heathrow’s closed, Charles de Gaulle is closed, Frankfurt and Geneva were just shutting when I left.” He found a plate for his snacks. “In fact, most of Europe’s a mess. Every wizard who specializes in that kind of thing is out in the cold right now. So glad I’m not one!”
“Here,” said Kit’s mama, putting a glass of cider in Ronan’s hand. “Who else wants one?”
Nita had a long drink of the cider and felt the world seem to settle a little around her. Whatever spice mix Kit’s mama had worked out to use in the stuff, Nita never got tired of it. The next thing she knew she and Kit were laughing about their sweaters, and she was stealing snacks off a plate he was holding, and the room was getting fuller of people. Her dad showed up, and the next thing Nita knew he and Kit’s pop and Filif were discussing the best management of the electrical outlets for the lights they were going to be putting on him, and Kit’s mama was laughing in the kitchen with Dairine at something Spot had just done, and the entertainment system was showing what appeared to be an ancient rock star playing a guitar in the nude.
And Kit leaned over to Nita and said, “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I’d say the party has begun…”
3:
O Tannenbaum
The place started descending into cheerful bedlam as more people arrived. Filif slipped out to get himself acclimated, as planned: Nita caught a glimpse of him, a tranquil shadow against the snow, as twilight set in. Tom and Carl turned up in their ski gear, to everyone’s amusement, and
were immediately equipped with cider (as they were apparently about to go on duty: “Back for the mulled wine later, Marina,” Carl said, “you know we wouldn’t miss that for anything!”). Matt from Australia turned up, wearing jeans and a truly eye-hurting shirt covered with graphics of Christmas ornaments in Day-Glo colors. Tall rawboned Marcus with his Very Military Haircut arrived, actually in camouflage fatigues in Christmas colors, bringing chocolates for Kit’s mama…
The noise level in the house became amazing: gossip and laughter, some preliminary exchange of small gifts, a lot more drink making the rounds, a lot of food. Sker’ret seemed to have appointed himself catering manager, and was constantly going back and forth with buffet trays. “It’s all downstairs on the other side of one of the puptent accesses,” he said to Nita when he passed her once. “There’s a stasis field there holding everything at the right temperatures. All the other accesses are set up, don’t worry about those…” And he was off again for another tray.
The music channel playing on the entertainment system was bringing out the best in some of the guests. Ronan’s voice was lifted in song at one point and caused everyone to hold still in astonishment as he did a pitch-perfect, raspy singalong imitation of both the leads on the song that was playing. “They’ve got cars big as bars, they’ve got rivers of gold, | but the wind goes right through you, it’s no place for the old: | when you first took my hand on a cold Christmas Eve, | you promised me Broadway was waiting for me…”
Moments later Matt was next to him and singing in harmony. “And the boys of the NYPD Choir were singing ‘Galway Bay’, | And the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day…”
“We need them for the carol singing tomorrow night,” said Kit’s mama, sipping at her own mulled wine with a critical look. “Mmm, needs more cinnamon… Kit, take care of that, will you?”
“Do what I can, Mama,” Kit said as his mother headed back for the kitchen, and himself headed for another of the snack trays. Nita turned back to the gossip she’d been eavedropping on while pretending to watch the music video channel.
