Page 33 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope (The Children Of The Gods #100)

TULA

T ula stood in front of the mirror, turning sideways as she examined her profile.

The loose gown she'd chosen this morning, one of several she'd been favoring lately, was draped over her body in what she hoped were concealing folds.

But even the generous fabric couldn't hide what was becoming increasingly obvious.

The gentle swell of her belly had grown more pronounced over the past week, and no amount of strategic draping could disguise it much longer.

She'd been so careful for five thousand years, taking every precaution except for turning celibate, but in the end, she couldn't escape the inevitable.

Pressing her hand against her stomach, she felt the firmness there that hadn't existed three months ago. Soon, even Tony wouldn't be able to pretend he didn't notice, because he had to be pretending.

The man held a doctorate, for the Fates' sake.

How could he not realize what was glaringly obvious?

Her breasts were tender and swollen, she was short-tempered and irritable all the time, and wine gave her heartburn. Either he was the most oblivious man on the planet, or he was as terrified as she was, and choosing denial was his coping mechanism.

A knock at her door made her drop her hand and smooth the fabric over her midsection.

"Come in," she called out.

Liliat opened the door but didn't come in. "We're going for a walk in the gardens. Want to join?"

It had been presented as an invitation, a wish to include her in their activity, but she knew it for the ambush it was. They'd been giving her knowing looks and whispering among themselves for days.

Her sisters knew.

The gazebo, deep in the harem's gardens, was the only place where they had any privacy.

The trees and distance from the buildings meant that even if there were cameras out there, they were few and easy to spot.

Nature wasn't conducive to miniature devices that could be swept away in the breeze or obscured by the slightest movement of leaves.

"I'm coming." She took one last look at herself in the mirror.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable. They all knew.

In the corridor the rest of them waited, their expressions neutral, but she knew them all so well that she could read them easily.

They were concerned for her.

"Where's Tamira?" she asked as they began walking toward the elevator.

"She went to get Areana," Sarah said.

So, it was to be a full intervention then.

In a way, Tula was relieved. Better to tell them all at once than to have the same gut-wrenching conversation twice.

And maybe one of them would have an idea she hadn't thought of.

Some solution that didn't involve either accepting the unacceptable or taking a permanent leap off the cliff outside the harem and ending her miserable existence along with the life growing inside of her.

The mid-morning sun was already scorching, but the path through the gardens was shaded by the greenery. The air was heavy with the scents of growing things she didn't have the patience to discern, and it made her slightly nauseous.

Everything was making her nauseous lately.

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds their soft footsteps on the gravel path and the distant hum of construction that never seemed to end these days.

The island was still being rebuilt after the rebellion, and according to Hassan, new crews and new equipment were arriving at the island daily.

Tamira and Areana caught up with them just as they reached the gazebo. Areana looked as perfectly composed as always, not a hair out of place despite the humidity, while Tamira looked a bit frazzled, and Tula wondered what that was about.

The gazebo was a beautiful structure, with delicate latticed wood, climbing vines, and comfortable cushioned benches arranged in a semicircle. It was far enough from the harem that conversation felt safer here, though Tula knew that safety was always an illusion on the island.

They all sat, and for a moment, no one spoke. Unspoken questions hung in the air like the morning humidity.

Finally, Tula couldn't stand it anymore. "You all know what's going on with me, so there is no point in keeping up the pretense."

"Know what?" Raviki asked.

"Don't." Tula's voice came out sharper than she intended.

Areana leaned forward, her expression soft with understanding. "How far along are you?"

The direct question, asked with such gentle matter-of-factness, broke something in Tula. She felt tears prick at her eyes, and she blinked them back furiously.

She would not cry.

"Three months, maybe a little longer," she admitted, the words feeling like shards of glass in her throat. "For five thousand years, I've been so bloody careful, and now I'm pregnant."

"And terrified," Beulah added.

"Terrified?" Tula laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"That doesn't begin to cover it. If it's a boy, he'll be taken from me before he even knows my face.

Nine months of carrying him, hours of labor, a few months of breastfeeding, and then they'll just take him.

And if it's a girl?" Her voice broke. "If it's a girl, I get to watch her grow up in this prison, never able to transition, aging and dying while I stay young forever. "

"There are other options," Sarah said carefully.

Tula's head snapped up. "If you're about to suggest what I think you're suggesting?—"

Abortion was a last resort that none of them had attempted, but some of the servants had.

"It's early enough," Sarah said, not flinching away from Tula's harsh tone. "There are certain herbs that trigger it, as well as other methods."

"No." The word came out with such vehemence that Sarah actually pulled back. "I won't do that. I can't." Tula pressed her hand to her stomach again. "The only way this child dies is if I die with it inside of me. At least then we will meet on the other side of the veil."

"Don't talk like that," Areana said. "We've all been through this and survived. You will survive as well. It will break you, as it has broken us, but we will help you rebuild yourself as we have been doing for each other ever since this started."

"That's not an option," Tula said firmly. "Not for me."

Liliat shifted on her bench, the cushions rustling softly. "Does Tony know?"

Tula snorted. "How could he not? My breasts are swollen, my belly is growing, I haven't touched wine in weeks, and I can barely keep food down.

But he keeps acting like everything's normal, talking about the herb garden and asking if I want to go swimming.

Either he's completely oblivious, which seems impossible given that he has a doctorate in bioinformatics, or he's as scared as I am and pretending it isn't happening. "

"Men can be surprisingly dense about these things," Raviki offered. "Especially when they don't want to see something."

"Or maybe he's waiting for you to tell him," Tamira suggested. "Maybe he doesn't want to pressure you or assume anything."

"Assume?" Tula's voice rose. "What else could it possibly be? I told him that I gained weight, but he sees what I'm eating. He should have seen through the lie."

"You need to tell him," Areana said. "Whatever you decide to do, he deserves to know. He's the father."

"And then what?" Tula stood and started pacing the small interior of the gazebo.

"He knows what happens to children born to the harem ladies.

If we are lucky to have a girl, at least he would get to see her grow, and he will die before her.

" She shook her head. "That's depressing to even think about. "

"There must be another way," Tamira said quietly.

Everyone turned to look at her, and Tula saw something in her friend's eyes that hadn't been there before. Hope, maybe. Or determination.

She narrowed her eyes at Tamira. "Like what?"

Tamira glanced at Areana, then back at Tula. "Things are changing. The rebellion showed that Navuh's control isn't absolute. There might be possibilities we haven't considered before. We need to think creatively."

"What kind of possibilities?" Sarah asked.

"I don't know," Tamira said. "But we are all smart, and if we put our heads together and take into account that things are not the same as they used to be when our children were taken away from us, we might come up with something." She turned to Tula. "You need to have faith."

Areana's expression had gone carefully neutral, which told Tula that she suspected where Tamira was going with that, and she didn't like it.

"How long can I hide it?" Tula asked, changing the subject because she couldn't bear to hope for something that might not happen. "How long before it becomes impossible to conceal?"

"With the right clothing, maybe another month or two," Beulah said, studying Tula's figure with a practical eye. "We can help with that. Looser gowns, different styles. Lord Navuh rarely sees us, and when he does, he pays attention only to Areana. He won't notice until it's impossible to miss."

Tula wasn't sure of that. Navuh noticed everything, but it was true that they rarely got to see him, and it wouldn't be too difficult to avoid him. The problem would be concealing the pregnancy from the staff, and someone would inform Navuh.

"He'll be pleased when he finds out," Areana said. "So, he won't be too angry about no one telling him about the pregnancy. Another child for his army or another daughter for the harem is pure gain for him."

"And a loss for me," Tula whispered.

"Not necessarily," Tamira said, that strange hope still shining in her eyes.

"Stop being so cryptic," Raviki said with frustration. "If you know something, tell us."

"I don't. Not yet, but we will come up with something, and in the meantime, I don't want Tula to do anything drastic." Tamira looked at Tula with pleading eyes. "Please, just don't lose hope."

Tula let out a sigh. "Don't worry. I don't have the courage to throw myself off the cliff." She looked at Areana and wondered if her oldest friend thought the same thing she did.

Carol had thrown herself off the cliff, but it had been a ruse. Annani's clan came to rescue them, but Areana had refused to leave Navuh, and Tula had refused to abandon Areana.

Things were different now, though. Loyalties had shifted. The child growing in her belly took precedence over her loyalty to Areana.

Would they come for her, though?

Would Areana ask Annani to send help?

Tula doubted that. She was a nobody, a servant girl who had grown into a lady of the harem only because she was an immortal and Navuh needed to maintain the fiction of having relations with all his immortal concubines.

The tears she'd been fighting finally won, spilling down her cheeks in hot streams. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to protect this child."

Suddenly she was surrounded, her sisters wrapping their arms around her in a group embrace that smelled of different perfumes and felt like a safety net, even though it was an illusion.

The only one who could help her was Areana, and Tula doubted the goddess would come through for her.

After all, why did Tula deserve a better fate than her mistress or the other ladies of the harem? They had all been forced to give up their sons. What gave her the right to demand something different for herself?

When they finally pulled apart, Tula wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I need you all to keep this secret," she said. "At least for now. I need time to figure out what to do, how to deal with this."

"Of course," Liliat said, and the others nodded their agreement.

"But you need to tell Tony," Areana said gently. "He has a right to know, and you'll need his support."

Tula nodded, though the thought of that conversation made her stomach turn. She was stifling so much anger, not just at the situation but also at Tony. How could he be so oblivious or so cowardly?

He claimed he loved her, but his actions didn't confirm his words.

Seeing Elias with Tamira put Tony's behavior in stark relief. Tony was selfish, and he cared about his survival and his comfort above all. Elias would lay down his life for Tamira. Tony would not do that for Tula.

Tamira stepped closer, and Tula saw tears in her friend's eyes. For a moment, she thought it was pity, and she started to pull away. She didn't want pity. But Tamira's expression stopped her.

"I know what it's like," Tamira whispered.

"To carry a child for nine months, to hold him and love him for a few precious months, and then to have him taken away.

I know the emptiness that follows, the ache that never really goes away.

But that short experience is worth having.

" She looked into Tula's eyes. "I know you won't believe me, but if I had to do it again, I would.

I'd rather create that life and carry it inside of me for nine months, fall in love with my child, and nurse him for a short while, than not have that at all.

The time you have, however brief, is precious.

And who knows? The future isn't written yet. "