Page 29 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues (Mystical Midlife in Maine #17)

T he planning session moved from the porch to the kitchen as the Forgotten Ones continued their vigil at our property's edge.

Nana had insisted we needed ‘sustenance for scheming’, and nobody was foolish enough to argue with her when she was wielding her shotgun and bordering on hangry.

For the first time in days, I was actually hungry as well.

My appetite had taken a mini-vacay with my anxiety.

Jean-Marc and Mom were poring over various books he’d spread across our dining table while I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

My back was killing me from the weight of three babies who were now taking turns practicing their powers inside my uterus.

It felt like they were playing patty cake with my organs.

"For the love of all things magical, would you three settle down?" I muttered, pressing my hands against my swollen belly. "Mommy's trying to eat while Gammy and your brother save all our asses."

Clio looked up from the herbal mixture she was grinding in a mortar. "They're responding to the energy in the room. Everyone's anxiety is feeding them."

"I’d ask everyone to settle the hell down, but their anxiety is justified," I countered as I accepted a cup of tea from Nina.

"We've got ancient horrors camped at our doorstep and a psychotic witch planning to steal our babies' power.

Add to that, there are only three days until a celestial alignment that could make all of that worse. "

"When you put it that way, I'm impressed by them," Nana remarked as she slid a plate of her famous cinnamon cookies toward me. "These little nuggets are more composed than half the adults in this house."

I grabbed a cookie and bit into it. Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I allowed the familiar comfort to briefly wash over me. "So, what do we know about counter-rituals that we can use to stop this before the alignment?" I asked through a mouthful of cinnamon goodness.

Jean-Marc pushed a weathered book toward me. "Most documented cases involve redirecting the energy rather than blocking it entirely. Think of it like a river. Now that Lyra had started, you can't stop it. However, you can change its course."

"Okay. Sounds like we need to create some magical levees," I mused as I scanned the text. "That way we can channel and direct the alignment's power where we want it instead of where Lyra needs it."

Mom nodded, adding another book to the growing pile. "Exactly. And if we tie those channels to the triplets' innate protective instincts, we could create a feedback loop that strengthens our defenses with every attempt Lyra makes to breach them."

"I love it. Using one of her methods against her is poetic justice," I praised them. I was impressed by the elegance and simplicity of the solution .

A sharp stabbing pain in my lower back made me wince. The triplets responded with a surge of protective magic that briefly lifted me an inch off my chair. "Okay, that's new," I gasped and gripped the table's edge.

Clio was at my side instantly. Her healing magic probed for problems. "They're getting stronger physically and magically by the hour," she observed.

"Is that bad?" Nina asked, worry etching her features.

"Not necessarily," Clio replied in a tone that wasn’t all that convincing. "I think we need to incorporate their power surges into our counter-ritual. Otherwise, there’s a good chance it will disrupt our work at a critical moment."

Jean-Marc nodded his head as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. "What if we used them as focal points? We could try to time important parts of the counter-ritual to match the triplets' energy output?"

"That could work," Mom agreed with a smile. "We'd need stabilizing anchors throughout the property. Something to capture and redistribute any excess power."

"Like magical surge protectors," I suggested. "Things that can absorb energy without overloading."

Nina went to the cabinet where we kept some magical supplies. "Obsidian, black tourmaline, and selenite crystals could work." She rooted around, no doubt looking for one of them. "I can prepare them with binding spells that allow them to absorb specific types of magical energy."

As we debated the technical aspects of our counter-ritual, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. I frowned at the unfamiliar number. "Who is it?" Jean-Marc asked, noticing my confusion.

"I don't know," I replied, opening the message.

My breath caught as a series of strange symbols filled the screen. They weren't anything I recognized, yet they seemed vaguely familiar. It was like a half- remembered dream.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I turned the phone so the others could see.

Mom leaned closer and narrowed her eyes on the image. "Those look like protection glyphs, only they aren’t."

Jean-Marc took the phone and studied the symbols intently. "They're encoded. Similar to what witches used during the Spanish Inquisition to communicate secretly."

Another message arrived, containing a single sentence in English. “ Three flowers bloomed where seven stars fell. The darkness hungers but light remains .”

"That's creepy," Nina remarked as she read over Jean-Marc's shoulder.

"It's a reference to the Pleiades sisters," Aidon interjected. "Seven stars, three flowers... it's talking about the triplets."

“What does it mean?” I asked as my stomach twisted into a knot.

A third message appeared. “ She takes more than she can hold. I escaped. Others did not. Her ritual has flaws. Weakness in the bonds. Need your help to break the pattern .”

The phone buzzed again, displaying a picture of a hand-drawn diagram that showed a ritual circle. Some symbols matched those that had appeared on my stomach during the pregnancy. "Holy shit," I whispered. "Someone escaped from Lyra.

Mom’s attention sharpened, and she looked over the latest message. “Sounds like it was someone who was part of her experiments."

"Or it's Lyra herself, trying to manipulate you," Nana said sharply. Her eyes hardened as she considered the idea. "This reeks of a trap."

"I don't think so," I countered, though I couldn't exactly explain why.

My instincts were screaming that this was legitimate.

"The triplets aren't reacting defensively.

" I hadn't realized until then that I had begun to use their reactions as a gauge of sorts.

Moments ago, they'd been causing magical chaos. Now, they were strangely calm.

Before anyone could reply, another message appeared. “ The anchor points can be inverted. The ritual reversed. But only by one who carries the blood and the bond. Only by you .”

"It’s definitely a trap," Nana insisted. "She's trying to lure you out."

"I'm not so sure," Mom said slowly. "These symbols are genuine ancient protection glyphs. That's not common knowledge."

"Can we trace the messages?" I asked Jean-Marc.

He frowned at his computer screen as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

Multiple windows populated with scrolling code.

"The signal's bouncing through multiple proxy servers across different countries.

Whoever sent this used a sophisticated VPN chain and Tor relays.

They definitely know how to cover their digital footprints. "

That sounded like it fit Nana’s trap theory more than mine.

I closed my eyes and placed a hand on my belly, trying to feel what the triplets were sensing.

A subtle warmth spread through me. It wasn’t the fierce protective heat I'd come to associate with danger.

This was something gentler. It almost felt hopeful.

"I think it's legitimate," I said finally, opening my eyes. "And even if it's not, the information about anchor points could be valuable."

My phone buzzed once more, making Mom jolt in surprise. “ Will send coordinates when safe. Prepare a binding potion of dragon's blood, moonstone dust, elder flower, sage root, and tears of a willing divine being. Must be brewed under a waning moon. Time is short .”

"That's a powerful binding mixture," Clio observed. "Designed to seal corrupted magic and return it to its natural state."

"We have everything except the divine tears," I noted as I slid my gaze to my mate. "You or your mom could provide those."

"You're actually considering this?" Nana asked incredulously. "Following instructions from a mysterious stranger while pregnant with triplets who happen to be the target of a psychotic magic-stealing witch?"

"I'm considering all options," I corrected, meeting her gaze steadily. "And my instincts tell me this is important."

Before she could argue further, the back door opened. Stella and Persephone rushed in. Both looked like they'd been dragged through hell backward. Stella's left arm was bandaged, and Persephone had a nasty gash across her forehead that was slowly leaking golden ichor.

"What happened?" I demanded, struggling to rise from my chair.

"Stay put," Aidon ordered before he crossed to his mother’s side.

Persephone waved him off and said, "We found something. Something bad."

"Define 'bad,'" I replied as I watched Clio begin healing her. "On a scale from 'oops, I forgot the milk' to 'apocalyptic disaster’, where does this fall?"

"Definitely closer to apocalyptic," Stella confirmed grimly. She unfurled a map across the table, shoving books aside to make room. "Lyra has created a network of focal points throughout the region. Specifically, at these locations." She marked spots in a circular pattern.

"They form a heptagram," Jean-Marc observed. "A seven-pointed star."

"The Seven Sisters," I whispered, the connection to the mysterious messages suddenly clear. "The Pleiades."

Persephone nodded. "Each point is corrupting the nearest ley line and rerouting its energy toward a central location. We managed to disrupt two of them, but they're heavily guarded."

"That's where we got these," Stella added, gesturing to their injuries.