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and caught the tune.
    Hellebore stood with her head high in the freezing wind and inhaled, belting the song out over the prairie, encouraging the plants sleeping under the blanket of snow to wait and to hope. She sang about the sun, the heat and the warmth of the summer. She composed verse after verse to fire and ice.
    When her energy had spun to its conclusion, she climbed down to join her parents. Amaryllis and John were sitting in the living room and cuddling together on the couch, their hands entwined and their heads leaning against each other. Her mother had tears on her cheeks, and there was a gleam in her father’s eyes.
    She smiled and hung up her coat, kicking off her boots and flopping next to her parents on the couch. “I believe that food was mentioned?”
    Her mother lunged at her and hugged her tight. “That was the most beautiful song I have heard from you.”
    Her father got to his feet and helped both of his ladies up. “Come on. There is lunch waiting.”
    He hugged her tightly. “Well done, Bells.”
    “I met someone who made me think a little more on the plusses and minuses of single life.” She smiled weakly.
    “According to your friends, you were in prison.”
    “I was in Santa’s stable if you can believe that. Last night, I flew across the world in the skin of a reindeer and lulled towns and villages to sleep so that Santa could bring them food and gifts that would help them through the season.”
    They wandered into the kitchen, and Amaryllis used some of her domestic magic to bring everything to the table with a few waves of her hands.
    Hellebore took a seat and held hands with her parents, sharing the joining of family and celebrating the holiday.
    She whistled a quick tune and the image of a Christmas tree hovered over the table.
    It was an Anders’ family Christmas, just like every year that had preceded it, and Hellebore had never been more thankful to be home.
     
    She squealed with delight as she pulled out some holiday socks. “Woo hoo! Owls.”
    Her mother put on her own butterfly socks, and her father put the reindeer socks onto his feet. Family traditions rocked.
    After dinner, they would have their sliding-for-distance competition, but for now, it was all about the presents.
    She opened her annual sound system for her studio and immediately began to morph her voice into that of her favourite movie characters for playback later.
    Her mother opened a box with an azure silk nightgown and robe. Her father sat on the edge of his seat while she opened it and then fell back when she jumped into his lap and covered his face with kisses.
    Hellebore sat on the floor like a toddler and played with her new toy while her parents made out on the sofa.
    She wriggled her toes in their owl socks and continued playing with her voice and the new microphone. It was difficult to get her aural seduction to pass through the recording equipment, but each generation of tech made a little more of her magic come through.
    She looked up at her parents. “Get a room.”
    Her father pried his lips from the mermaid in his lap. “I have an entire house, find your own space.”
    Hellebore cackled and dove back into the pile of presents. Christmas with her parents always reaffirmed that love could come in the strangest of places but you had to be open to opposites attracting.

Chapter Eight
     
     
    With the debris from Christmas all tidied up and used in the fireplace, Boxing Day arrived, and it carried with it enough magic to light up an entire town.
    Hellebore was on beverage duty. The eggnog had high octane but the punchbowl was quickly depleted as she was greeted, hugged and kissed by friends who had been worried about her return.
    The presents were a surprise, and Hellebore was caught unaware. She sat down and her friends gave her presents along with pumping her for information about meeting Santa.
    Raven smiled. “I liked his hair.”
    Hellebore laughed. “Of course you did. It matches yours, though