Page 49
Aric glanced upward when dust rained from the ceiling. “Easy, love.”
“Easy?? Easy!” I bared my teeth at him, and the rose plant beside the bed shot higher, stalks forking out. They clung to the wall and ceiling, then dropped down to slither throughout the room.
Aric was surrounded. He glanced over his shoulder and back. “Just hold on, Evie. You can do this without the witch.”
I balled my fists, grappling to keep her leashed. “I don’t want to hurt you, but she’s so strong.”
His gaze kept flashing to my eyes. They must be green. My reddened hair was strewn with leaves. He told me again, “I will not fight you, so you have to control her.”
Each of those rose stalks had fattened until it was the size of a tree trunk. “I’m trying! But put on your armor just in case.”
“I’m not leaving this spot. We’ll be fine.”
“No, we won’t be! Why aren’t you listening to me?”
In a measured tone, he said, “Wait for the next contraction to push.”
Pain sliced through me, and those stalks lurched. One accidentally caught Aric and knocked him backward with the force of a car crash. He barreled into the crib.
I clambered upright. “Aric! Are you okay?”
I’d built that crib to last; he didn’t leave a mark on it. He picked himself up with a nod, his stoic expression in place. Which meant he could be totally fine—or concealing a broken limb. On his way back to me, he held my gaze. “My fierce wife, your foes anger you at their peril.”
“Please leave me here. Just get yourself somewhere safe.”
“We’re close now.” Aric stiffly sat at the foot of the bed once more. “We can do this.” On my next contraction, he urged, “Now, push . . .”
I did, chin to my chest, gritting my teeth.
“You’re doing great.” He ran his sleeve over his forehead, and blood saturated his skin.
“Why’s there so much blood?” I cried. “Is Tee okay?”
“Everything’s fine. You two are doing amazing.”
Crimson smeared my thighs, wetting my skin and the bed. “No, you’re lying. Why is there so much blood? Something’s wrong!”
Under his breath, he murmured, “It’s mine.”
That stalk must’ve punctured his skin. “I’m so sorry! How bad is it?”
“Just a graze on my forearm.”
A graze wouldn’t bleed like that. “You’re not supposed to lie.”
“I’ll be fine.”
I’d hurt him, and Jack might already be infected with plague. My kid was probably going to be a Bagger. Sorrow seeped into me, and the pain amplified it.
Reading me so well, Aric said, “Don’t think about me—or anyone else. Just focus on what you’re doing.”
A stronger contraction hit, tearing a shriek from my lungs. My vision wavered, and suddenly I wondered if Tee and I were going to make it out of this alive. . . .
21
The Fool
Stix Temporary Lair
As the storm intensified, I glanced around at all the others inside our safe house.
I would separate from them once they became Wise. Over time, all of their descendants would be Wise. But not yet.
They always wanted me to talk to them. Trying! Every word changed the future. I witnessed it shifting as I spoke. Landscapes altered. Humankind transformed. Crushed. Rebuilt. Crushed.
With a word.
So, quiet.
So quiet.
When I did speak, Empress wouldn’t listen. The sacrifice was not so very far away. Did she suspect what it must be? Carry the memory of a flower. Right now, she was busy.
Was it easier to leave home if you knew you would never return? I couldn’t do it all. Fight the magic. Make the sacrifice. Couldn’t do it all.
Do enough.
Will we sleep forever and ever at the end?
22
Death
Castle Lethe
“He’s crowning,” I told Evie as I attempted to keep the staggered wonder out of my tone. “We’re almost there. Bear down and push hard on the next contraction.”
I had put on a show of confidence because that was what she needed, but I felt adrift.
Too much awe, too little experience.
And in the end, I could affect this labor little. Her body knew what to do.
Afterward, I would assist. I’d delay cutting the cord until it had stopped pulsing, then wipe away the blood while leaving the vernix intact. We’d coax Tee to nurse as soon as possible, and the babe needed warmth and skin-to-skin contact.
“I’m so sorry for hurting you.” Evie was all but sobbing.
“It’s nothing.” Not a lie in the grand scheme of things. “Focus on your breathing.”
Her lungs heaved as her body writhed. Agony twisted her features, and her thorn claws shredded the sheets.
Until the next contraction. Then, her every muscle seemed to work in perfect concert to achieve one aim. With a throaty scream, she pushed hard past her anguish.
Our son slipped free into my gloved hands. He was . . .
Perfect.
His face scrunched up, and his cheeks turned red. His strong cry was as welcome as dawn.
“He’s crying,” she said between breaths. “That’s good, right?”
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