Twenty ticks later, she rerolled her mat in disgust. She had no more command over her mind than a first-cycle trainee; there was no point in further effort. She would return to the pleasure house and face whatever truth Fahla decided to give them.
The magtran skimmed through its transparent tube above the city and beneath a foreboding sky, where thick clouds blocked all but a tiny fraction of light. Wildwind Bay churned with waves from the earlier storm, only a few ships daring to sail its waters. It felt like late afternoon, though the temple had yet to ring its midmorning bells.
Upon disembarking, she stood outside the magtran station and contemplated the elegant stone walls of the pleasure house directly across the street. Dr. Wells and Micah had surely woken and run the test by now. Her answer was there, waiting.
“Be kind to us,” she entreated the dark sky. “Or at least to them.”
The familiar arched entry welcomed her to the lobby, where she greeted the clerk on her way to the courtyard. Though it would have been faster to cut across the garden, she turned left and strolled around the protected interior walkway, a small cheat that added half a tick to her time. The ringing of her boot heels on flagstones was too loud in the quiet space.
Halfway around, she climbed the outside stairs to the third level and reentered the building, now in a richly decorated corridor. Thick rugs silenced her steps, a change that seemed ominous when she arrived at the door to their suite.
Only one set of emotions was present within. Micah still slept, but Dr. Wells was awake and broadcasting a quiet sadness that went straight through her heart.
She set a hand against the carved wood and rested her forehead beside it, heavy with sorrow.
No, she told herself. This is her grief, not yours. Go in there and help.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Dr. Wells stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living area, arms crossed as she gazed into the courtyard. She was fully dressed, her hair up in its usual twist, and appeared more professional than she had in the last five days.
At the sound of the door, she turned and unleashed a blinding smile. “There you are!”
Her elation nearly flattened Rahel, who stood blinking at the sudden shift.
“It—it worked?”
“It did. He’s pregnant.” The smile dimmed, then crumpled. “We made a child,” she choked out.
Rahel met her halfway and held on tight. “Fahla’s farts, it worked!”
“Fahla’s blessings, you mean.” She laughed once, a short huff of air that turned into a gasp. “And yours. You made this happen. I will never, never—”
She could not finish the sentence, instead allowing her tightened grip to speak for her.
Rahel rocked her, overcome by the shift in their dynamic. She doubted it would last longer than a few ticks, but in this moment, she was honored to support the person who had done so much to support her.
“Thank you,” Dr. Wells whispered.
“It was my pleasure. Literally,” Rahel added, smiling at the laugh that brought out. “You worried me. You weren’t happy a tick ago.”
“Oh, I’ve been up and down like a wallball, as Micah would say. Flying without a ship one moment, terrified of losing it the next, feeling sad about Josue.” Dr. Wells pulled away, wiping her cheeks. “He won’t be my only child anymore. He’ll be my first child. I don’t know why that’s suddenly so hard, but it is.”
“He’s still your only child in your first life.”
“Birth and rebirth, hm? You’d know about that.” She was back in control, smiling with wet eyes. “I don’t think I dared believe it until now. All this time I’ve been focused on hormone levels and taking care of you and Micah—I never let myself think past the details. Now it’s all I can think about. If everything goes well, I’ll be a mother again.” Wryly, she added, “The sleepless nights have already begun. Micah and I woke up and ran the test at night two. I have no idea how he managed to fall asleep after that, but I was up for another hantick, watching him.”
Rahel grinned at the vision. “The great protector is now the one under guard?”
“Hm, not quite.” Dr. Wells led her to the sofa. “But it might come to that. I make no promises that I won’t be the most unrelenting expectant parent in Alsean history. No, I was watching him and thinking about cell division.”
Already reeling under the wild swings of emotion and profound relief, Rahel collapsed onto the cushion and burst into laughter.
“Cell division,” she wheezed. “Only you would say that. You are a healer down to the soles of your feet.”
Dr. Wells shrugged, the careless gesture belied by her sparkling eyes. “I was remembering the first time I saw fertilization under a microscope. The egg divided into two cells, then four, then eight, right before my eyes. It was magical. Life creating itself in real time. I watched Micah last night and thought, ‘It’s happening in him right now.’ A miracle in every way. How can I sleep through a miracle?”
“You were asleep when I left for the caste house,” Rahel pointed out.
“Well, it turns out that creating a miracle is exhausting.” She leaned back against the sofa, comfortable and loose in a way Rahel had rarely seen before this ceremony. “I did want to be awake when you woke, so I could tell you. I’m sorry I missed the chance and left you to wonder.”
“I didn’t give it a second thought.”
“Liar.”
“I couldn’t center at all,” she admitted. “But it was worth it to come here and sense you.”
Silently, Dr. Wells held out a hand. Rahel took it, accepting the gift for what it was: emotions shared freely.
There was gratitude, of course, alongside worry, relief, and ebullient joy. But strongest of all, as Dr. Wells looked unflinchingly into her eyes, was a fierce, glorious love. Rahel had only sensed this intensity from three others in her life: Mouse, Sharro, and her mother. That Dr. Wells not only felt this way about her but was intentionally sharing it . . .
Breathing was suddenly difficult.
Dr. Wells smiled in understanding, squeezing her hand before letting go. “Micah and I have been discussing parenting,” she said, as if nothing had happened. “He plans to step down as Chief Guardian shortly before the birth.”
“That’s a loss to Lancer Tal,” Rahel managed.
“He’s been training Gehrain for almost two cycles.”
“It’s still a loss. Micah knows all the players.” As she had for Shantu.
“Gehrain is learning them. Micah wants to cut back his workload and devote it to Salomen. One of us needs to be the consistent one, the parent who can always be there. I was that for Josue, but . . .” She shook her head.
“But you’ll be training Alsean healers on the Phoenix and setting up the new healing center in Blacksun,” Rahel concluded. “You can’t be that parent this time.”
“Not for the first few cycles, at least. Which brings us to you.” Amusement rose from her skin. “You look worried. What do you think we’re expecting?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I want to be part of this, but I don’t know my role. And I can’t leave the Phoenix, especially now.”
“No, you can’t and you shouldn’t. Rahel, there’s a reason Micah told you about his history with Tal. What he was and is for her, that’s what we’d like you to be for our child. With one difference,” she added. “Our child will know who you are.”
She meant to say Yes, I’d be delighted. She wanted to say Thank you for not hiding me in the shadows. She pictured herself saying I’ll do my best to be a good role model. I’ll be there for this child, whenever she or he needs me.
What she did, embarrassingly, was dissolve into tears.
Dr. Wells pulled her into a warmron, rubbing her back and making comforting sounds. “It’s a bit much to take in, isn’t it?”
“Fahla, yes. I didn’t expect—I didn’t think—” She clenched her jaw, trying to stave off a mortifyin
g sob.
“You didn’t think you were doing anything more than giving us a gift.” Dr. Wells held her more tightly. “You thought you’d walk away today and that would be the end of it, except for occasional visits from Aunt Rahel. That’s why I love you so much, you idiot warrior. Because you did this with no thought for yourself. You did it for me, for him.” She pulled away and held Rahel’s shoulders, her eyes wet again but bright with joy. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have teach my child what it means to love. You’re so damned good at it.”
She choked on her response. Not in a thousand cycles would she have thought of herself that way. “I don’t know how—”
“Yes, you do. You showed me how, don’t you realize that? I learned with you. I forgot, all those cycles ago. I made myself forget. You brought me back from that. I have a family now. A family!” She shook Rahel by the shoulders, her smile radiant. “But it won’t be complete without you.”
A chuckle made its way through the blockage in her throat. “We’ll be a unique family.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Ordinary is boring.”
The eye contact was too much. Rahel settled back into a warmron, absorbing the indescribable comfort of being known with all her flaws and loved in spite of them.
She was going to have a child—and a family.
45
Visitor
To Rahel’s gleeful surprise, they extended their stay in the pleasure house.
“I spent five days stressing over this,” Dr. Wells said. “I barely got to enjoy any of it. I want to relax.”
“Besides,” Micah added, “relaxing is good for the baby.”
“Which is good for my mental health.” She kissed him on the tip of the nose. “Which means it’s good for yours.”
“Words for Fahla.” He tried to look innocent. “What? I was agreeing with you.”
“A little too fervently. Pay attention, Rahel. He’s showing you how not to behave in a relationship.”
“I’m not getting in the middle of that.”
“Wise woman,” Micah said with a nod.
And yet, she was in the middle of it—or if not quite in the middle, then just off to the side. Their inclusion of her had not ended with the ceremony, a truth they demonstrated at every opportunity. That they did so unconsciously, as if nothing could be more natural, made it all the more precious to her.
Since Micah had spent little time in Whitesun and Dr. Wells next to none, she showed them the most famous sights of her city. When they had their fill of crowds, she took them to her favorite haunts and the places with personal meaning. At the request of her mother and Sharro, she even took them to the house on the hill, where they marveled at the expansive view of Wildwind Bay, chatted about everything from parenting to winter storms, and fell helplessly under Little Mouse’s spell.
Sharro insisted that they stay for evenmeal. It was while helping her serve that Rahel stopped in the kitchen doorway, overcome by a moment of disbelief as she watched the people around the table.
“You make a beautiful family,” Sharro said from behind her. “Unique, as any family of yours would have to be.”
“I never imagined anything like this. I just thought that maybe, someday, I could have what other people had.”
“Why would you limit yourself? Surely your mother and I taught you better than that.” Her single dimple twinkled as she slid past. “But you do need to make one change.”
“What is that?”
“Call her Alejandra.”
“Oh. No, you don’t understand—”
“She has rewritten the rules of her culture to create this family. You can rewrite your personal rule”—she tapped Rahel over the heart—“and give the gift of her name. Without it, you hold her at a distance. There was a time when that was appropriate, but that time has passed.”
Rahel spent the rest of evenmeal avoiding calling Dr. Wells by any name at all. Sharro was right, of course. But putting that wisdom into practice made surrogacy look simple.
Two days later, they were crossing the courtyard on their way back from mornmeal when Dr. Wells broke into a trot, radiating happy recognition.
“Where is she going?” Micah asked, looking after her as she turned down the next side path.
“I have no—” Rahel stopped when a figure rose from the bench at the end of the path. The distinctive emotional signature was so incongruous in this place that she couldn’t credit her senses.
“You look ten cycles younger!” Dr. Wells called.
“I feel like it.” Captain Serrado held out her arms, laughing as Dr. Wells barreled into them. They embraced as if they hadn’t seen each other in a cycle.
“Congratulations, Alejandra.” Rahel heard the murmur as she and Micah drew near. “I’m so happy for you. So happy.”
“Thank you. It still hasn’t sunk in yet. It might not until he gives birth.”
“I think you’ll get there sooner than that.” Captain Serrado looked up and beamed at them, gracefully stepping away to offer both palms. “Well met, Micah. And congratulations.”
“Ekatya, well met. This is a surprise! Though not to all of us, I note.”
Dr. Wells was unrepentant. “A healer has to have some secrets.”
“Don’t blame her. I didn’t tell her I was coming until this morning.” Serrado turned to Rahel, her smile undimmed. “I don’t know how to greet you now. I’m not your captain.”
“As family,” Micah said firmly. “She’s part of our family.”
“Good, that makes it easier.” And before Rahel quite knew what was happening, Captain Serrado was giving her a warmron. “Congratulations to you, too. That’s quite a feat you pulled off.”
“I had a lot of help.” Rahel straightened with the realization. “You only told her this morning that you were coming? You didn’t take a regular transport.” And without her command, she had no access to the Phoenix’s shuttles.
“I’m getting certified on our new shuttles. It wouldn’t look good for the first admiral to need pilots to take her around.”
“The first admiral could crook her little finger and bring any pilot on the planet running, eager for the honor of serving.” Micah crossed his arms disapprovingly. “You’re inventing expectations.”
“And Lhyn said she and Salomen were making sure you took a moon to relax,” Rahel added. “It hasn’t even been two ninedays. I can’t believe they’d let you start work already.”
“Look at that.” Dr. Wells nudged Serrado. “Do you see it?”
“That they’re in exactly the same pose? Yes.”
“They’re even jutting out the same hip. Do you think they learn that in training?”
Realizing that her arms were crossed as well, Rahel set her hands on her hips. “You’re also not in uniform,” she observed.
“Is she telling the truth about getting certified?” Micah asked in a conspiratorial tone.
“Yes, but the rest is excuses. She’s doing it for fun.”
“Hm.”
Serrado laughed. “Alejandra, they’re not going to let you get away with anything.”
“I know. Right now I’m enjoying it. I’m sure that at some point, I’ll want to throw one or both of them out the window.”
“Or the airlock, depending on your location. Yes, you’re right. I wanted some flight time, but I’m in limbo. Not a captain and not yet an admiral. Fortunately, I know someone who can pull levers. They started me on the certification a bit early, so I came down here.”
Micah was unconvinced. “And you chose Whitesun for its balmy weather?”
Rahel glanced up at the clouds scudding across the wintry sky. It was a far cry from summer in Blacksun Basin.
“I chose Whitesun because I wanted to congratulate you. And because I need to speak with Rahel.”
Her head snapped around. “With me?”
“Let them talk,” Dr. Wells said, tugging Micah by the elbow. “They’ll join us for a rajalta after. Won’t you?”
“We’ll be up when we’re done,” Serrado promised. She watched them go, then turned to the sculpture given pride of place in this corner of the courtyard. “You mentioned that your mother donated a sculpture. I never imagined anything like this.”
The half-scale woman leaned back on her heels with both arms extended, holding the ends of a long, narrow piece of cloth. She was off balance and would have fallen backward but for the large sphere pulling in the opposite direction, trapped in the cloth’s loop a body length away. While she and her cloth were dark, the sphere shone brightly, shredding the cloth as it tore free. The woman’s arm muscles were corded with the effort, yet she wore a resigned expression.
At the base of the sculpture, a plaque bore two words and a name:
“LET GO”
Ravenel Sayana
“It’s incredible artistry.” Serrado walked around to the sphere, suspended at eye level. “I’d swear this cloth was fabric. How she made metal look so soft is beyond me. I had to touch it to be sure.”
“I’ve never liked this one,” Rahel said flatly.
“Really? Why not? It’s a marvel of captured motion. There’s so much kinetic energy. I can feel her effort.”
“Because I’m the sphere.” Rahel ran her fingertips over the shining metal. “It was Mother’s penance. She’s telling the world that she tried to hold me back.” She dropped her hand. “When I was eighteen, I thought this was justice. A public apology for the wrong she did me, what more could I want?”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t look at the sphere. I look at her.” She indicated the woman, straining with every bit of her strength and knowing she had already lost. “I don’t want her to keep apologizing, but this sculpture has been here for twenty cycles. It’ll be here after we’re both gone. It’s famous now. People come to the pleasure house just to see it.” She scowled. “I wish Sharro would let the house sell it to a private collector.”
“That would be a tremendous loss.” Captain Serrado circled around to stand beside the woman, looking along the length of straining cloth to Rahel. “Great art has more than one interpretation. It speaks to the viewer, not just the artist. I don’t see this as an apology.”
Alsea Rising: The Seventh Star (Chronicles of Alsea Book 10) Page 34