Her mouth falls open, and she bawls.
The egg reminds her of the teleport pod, so she bawls some more.
The door is locked; the Valeshard locked it in front of her.
She waits for a long time, at least five bouts of bawling, before a strange sensation pricks on the back of her neck, like something is...
A light flashes in front of her, a scar-shaped light, twisting and curling with blues and whites and silvers, like thorns. How does she know what thorns are?
A wrinkled old hand, attached to a wrinkled old man in a wrinkled leather jacket and a rumpled waistcoat, comes out of the light. A girl is in his arms.
He looks at Susan. Susan looks at him back.
Then Susan looks at the girl, and opens her mouth.
The wrinkled old man pulls on his little bit of beard, and then his pocket watch. Then he sets the girl in his arms down, and comes to pick up Susan. Before he reaches her, she swipes a look at the sleeping girl. She has brown hair! It’s long... nice and silky... and her lips are dark.
“This is Clara, Susan,” the old man says as he scoops Susan up and holds her head against his chest, nuzzling his beard in her head fuzz. “Kind of like Mamlaurea, isn’t she?”
End of The Return Heptalogy.
To be continued in: