Page 12 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues (Mystical Midlife in Maine #17)
T he household went into overdrive after we discovered the shadows infecting the establishment. Everyone scattered to implement countermeasures while I remained uselessly stuck in bed. Protective and detection spells were cast throughout the residence, with most being focused on me and the babies.
Using my mirrors, I helped Nina and Stella track the shadow creatures. It became a game of hide and seek. Not a very effective one. The odds were not in our favor. Meanwhile, Jean-Marc and Mom dug deeper into the ancient texts for answers.
Hours later, exhaustion claimed them all. They couldn’t stay awake forever. The house quieted as everyone retreated to grab a few hours of sleep. Everyone except me. Sleep was a luxury that wouldn't come. Not with those shadow seeds planted throughout my home.
I lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling where Lyra's monitoring symbols continued to pulse rhythmically. Even now, she was watching. Waiting. Planning.
My frustration built with each passing minute.
Here I was, a Pleiades witch with enough magical power to level a city block.
And relegated to bed while some psychotic bitch infected my house with her dark magic.
The triplets responded to my turbulent emotions.
Their magic stirred restlessly within me.
"Easy," I whispered, stroking my belly. "We're going to figure this out."
But the babies weren't having it. A rush of power surged through me as my bedside lamp suddenly shot into the air.
It hovered near the ceiling. The books on my dresser followed, along with my hairbrush, phone, and water glass.
They began to orbit around the room like some bizarre solar system with me as the sun.
"Damn it," I hissed before focusing on calming myself. "Come back down. Gently."
The objects ignored me. In fact, the harder I tried to control the outburst, the more things joined the orbital parade. My slippers lifted off the floor. The framed photos on the wall detached and joined the rotation. Even the chair by my bed rose a few inches.
A knock at the door made me jump. That accelerated the whirling mess. Nana poked her head in and barely ducked as my lamp made a particularly enthusiastic circuit.
"Having a little trouble with gravity, sweetheart?" she asked dryly.
"Just a slight difference of opinion with physics," I replied through gritted teeth. "Nothing to worry about."
"Of course not." Nana sauntered in, expertly dodging the flying objects as if she dealt with this kind of chaos every day. "And I suppose the toaster dancing the mambo in the kitchen and the television cycling through channels are nothing to worry about, either."
I winced. "The babies' magic is leaking out. I can't seem to contain it. "
"Contain it?" Nana barked out a laugh. "Honey, you're trying to put a hurricane in a sandwich bag.
Those three are feeding off each other and your emotions.
" She perched on the edge of my bed. She was remarkably unconcerned about the hairbrush that nearly took her eye out.
"And from what I'm seeing, they're getting stronger by the hour. "
I sighed, focusing on the slow, deep breathing Clio had taught me. Gradually, the orbiting items slowed their rotation. A few smaller objects—pens, my hairbrush, my phone—dropped gently back to their places. The larger ones remained stubbornly airborne.
"That's something, at least," Nana observed.
"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "If I can't even control this, how am I going to handle it when they're actually born?"
"Who says you need to control it? Control is overrated." Nana waved a dismissive hand.
I glared at her. "Tell that to the lamp that's about to crash into the mirror."
Nana snorted and shook her head. "You're thinking about this all wrong. Instead of fighting their magic, work with it. They're showing you what they can do. They’re testing their powers and reaching out to you. Respond."
I sucked in a deep breath. "And how exactly do I do that? I can’t use magic right now."
"Hell if I know. I'm ninety years old and have lived as a human most of that time. You're the magical mama with three supernatural powerhouses playing bumper cars in your uterus."
Despite my frustration, I laughed. Then screamed as everything in the room—including my bed with me in it—suddenly rose six inches off the floor.
"Well now," Nana said, looking around appreciatively as she floated beside me. "This is new."
"This is bad," I countered, clutching the sheets as if they could anchor me to the ground. "Really bad."
Aidon froze mid-stride when he entered a second later. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. "Phoebe?"
"I'd say this isn't what it looks like, but it's exactly what it looks like," I said with forced calm. "Your children have decided gravity is optional."
Aidon approached cautiously. His shadows reached out, tentatively brushing against the swirl of magic that permeated the room. "Their power is extraordinary," he murmured. "I've never felt anything like it."
"That's great," I said sarcastically. "Very helpful. Now, can you please get my bed back on the floor before I go into premature labor from stress?"
His power expanded and wrapped around my bed in a gentle cradle. The floating furniture began to descend, and I felt the mattress settle back onto its frame with a soft thump. The remaining orbiting objects gently returned to their places as Aidon's magic soothed the wild energy.
I slumped back against my pillows, exhausted. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Aidon said, his expression troubled. "I just gave them a nudge in the right direction. Luckily, the babies responded to my power."
"They like their daddy," Nana said with a chuckle. "Can't say I blame them."
The sound of footsteps announced Jean-Marc's arrival. He stood in the doorway, clutching a leather-bound book and looking like he hadn't slept in days, which he hadn't. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "The entire house was vibrating a minute ago."
"Just your mother and siblings redecorating," Nana quipped as she stood up. "I'm going to make tea. I have a feeling we're going to need it. "
After she left, Jean-Marc approached. "I've been researching cases of multiple magical pregnancies," he said, setting the book on my nightstand. "They're incredibly rare, but there are historical precedents."
"Tell me what you need to say," I urged, noticing the hesitation in his voice.
He opened the book to a marked page. "Most recorded cases involve twins, not triplets. But even then, there is a pattern. Multiple magical babies in the same womb create a kind of resonance effect. Their individual powers amplify each other."
"That tracks with what we're seeing," Aidon noted.
Jean-Marc nodded. "The accounts warn about increased instability during the third trimester.
As the babies develop more control over their magic, paradoxically, it becomes harder to contain because they respond to each other.
One baby's magical outburst triggers the others, creating cascading effects. "
"Like a magical feedback loop," I said.
"Exactly. And according to these records, it only gets more intense as the pregnancy progresses.
" He flipped to another page, showing illustrations of what appeared to be protective circles.
"Historical accounts suggest that as you approach delivery, you might need magical containment measures just to prevent widespread disruption. "
"Disruption? What kind of disruption are we talking about?" I asked.
Jean-Marc hesitated, then pointed to a passage in the book. "One account from 1764 describes a witch carrying magical twins whose labor triggered storms that plagued the countryside for days. Another mentions spontaneous transformation of objects within a mile radius of the birth."
"That's just fantastic," I muttered. "So not only do I have a psychotic witch trying to steal my babies' magic, but I might accidentally trigger an apocalypse while giving birth to them."
"We'll handle it," Aidon assured me. "We've faced worse."
"Have we though?" I challenged. "Because magical hurricanes and reality-warping birth contractions sound pretty high on the 'worst things ever' scale to me."
Before Aidon could open his mouth, a crash echoed from downstairs, followed by raised voices. Stella's high-pitched tone cut through the chaos like a foghorn on steroids. Crap on a cracker.
I tried to get out of bed, but Nana stopped me.
Stella didn't do distress. My bestie was the ridiculous kind of perpetually chipper morning person.
She could make you want to dump your coffee on her head.
And even contemplate how much jail time you'd get for duct-taping her mouth shut.
Yet she sounded like someone had just set fire to her vintage shoe collection. This was so not good.
"Go," I urged Aidon. "Find out what's happening."
He hesitated, clearly torn between staying with me and investigating the disturbance. "I'm not going anywhere," I promised. "Jean-Marc and Nana will stay with me." With a nod, Aidon swept from the room.
"Are you okay?" Jean-Marc asked quietly.
"Ask me after I've delivered these three without turning the town into a giant novelty snow globe and kept them safe from Lyra," I replied. "How are you holding up? What about school?"
He shrugged. The gesture reminded me of when he was a teenager. It made my heart ache despite our supernatural crisis. He wasn’t that young man anymore. "I'm missing some important exams, but my professors have been understanding. I told them there was a family emergency."
"That's one way to put it," I said dryly.
The teacup on my nightstand began to levitate again as Melaina rolled in my belly. "Here we go," I sighed. "Round two of 'Defying Physics with the Duedonne Triplets’."