The Magician's Blood

by Linda G. Hill

  “Step aside for a word, would you?” his father said quietly.

  The look on Tarmien’s face when they reached the end of the hallway reminded Stephen of their talk in Antigua. A lump formed in his chest.

  “You’re not going to tell me there’s more about the demon, are you?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that. I just want to advise you that it’s okay not to feel like you’re cheating on Herman when you get in there.

  “The day Reed was born, I almost didn’t go to the hospital. It was Hawkins who convinced me to go.”

  Stephen’s eyes went wide with horror, and his dad nodded. “It surprised me too,” Tarmien continued. “He told me that he didn’t feel it … what was the word he used? ‘Decorous.’ He thought it less-than-appropriate that he should witness the birth of another man’s child, even though it was his wife giving birth.

  “So I went. And I realized afterward that I was glad I did. I also realized that I should have focused on the moment rather than feel guilty.” Tarmien swallowed heavily. “I love Reed, as I know you will love your daughter. And I look forward to the day when, even if I can’t openly accept him as my son, you’ll be able to treat him as a brother.”

  “I look forward to that too,” Stephen said.

  Just then, an earsplitting screech reached them from one of the rooms.

  “She refused an epidural,” his dad said. “You’d better go and see her, son.”

  Tarmien gave him another brief hug, and Stephen walked down the hall in the direction of the screams. He waited until the contraction subsided and then stepped into the doorway. Flushed and sweaty, Nina lay on her back with her eyes closed. Her bare feet were in stirrups, her knees flopped limply to the sides. A plump, kind-faced nurse wiped Nina’s brow with a damp white cloth. She spoke quietly, with the assuredness of someone who had enjoyed her job in the maternity ward for many years. A younger nurse stood at the foot of the bed making doe eyes at a tall, white-coated doctor, as they discussed the weather. The kindly nurse at the head of the bed looked up first and said a cautious hello to Stephen. Nina opened her eyes and focused on him. Slowly realizing that it was the son rather than the father, her eyes goggled.

  “Master!”

  The doctor turned and took a step toward him. “Sir, I’m not sure you should be in here.”

  “It’s okay,” Nina said, as panicked as she had been surprised. “He’s the father.”

  The doctor looked at him askance, and Stephen held out his hand. “I’m Stephen Dagmar. She doesn’t call me by my given name.”

  The doctor extended a narrow hand. “I see,” he said, not really seeing. “I’m Dr. Jones,

  Nina’s obstetrician.”

  “Nice to meet you. How is it going?”

  “Very well. The baby’s heartbeat is strong, and I don’t think there will be any complications.”

  “Excellent,” Stephen said. He turned to Nina.

  “You came,” she squeaked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Of course.” He approached the bed and reached across to take the facecloth from the nurse, nodding his thanks. She smiled at him and forced herself to look away. Stephen draped the cloth over his open hand to wipe Nina’s face, and she nuzzled his hand with her cheek.

  “Thank you, Master,” she whimpered. She winced at the onset of another contraction, and he supported her shoulders as she rose, pushing, her hand squeezing his with adrenaline-fueled strength.

  “The baby is crowning,” Dr. Jones said. “It won’t be long now, Nina.”

  She strained with all the might her tiny body held, and Stephen tensed as he realized what his father had meant. To be there—to truly experience the birth of his child—he had to focus on Nina. The contraction passed, and Nina lay back again, panting. Stephen stroked the hair out of her face, humbled by the force of her labor. He was speechless, wanting to thank her and apologize to her at the same time.

  “I prayed, and I prayed that you would be here when our baby was born,” Nina said, looking up at him gratefully. “My prayers were answered.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Considering all I’ve put you through.”

  “It’s all worth it,” she said with a groan as the next contraction began, right on the heels of the last. Her scream pierced Stephen’s eardrums and her hand crushed his as she pushed the baby’s head out. When she sat back this time, the doctor told her that one more push should deliver her daughter into the world.

  “The rope,” Nina said. She reached under her pillow and pulled it out. “When shall I undo the knot?”

  “Now.” Stephen helped her loosen it, hoping that the spell he had cast to ease her pain and bring their baby safely into the world would help, at least a little.

  As her fingers worked at releasing the twist of the knot, Nina was gripped by her final contraction.

  “Push hard, Nina,” the doctor encouraged her, “and try not to make a noise. Put all your energy into pushing.”

  She did as she was told. Sitting up with Stephen’s hand supporting her body and her face scrunched into a grimace, her entire being focused on expelling the first of the next generation of Dagmars into the world. Never before had Stephen felt such awe. And so it was with his lips at Nina’s hair, kissing her gently in gratitude, that across the miles Herman awoke with a start from her doze in front of the television with the scream Nina had held inside.

  CHAPTER 35

  When her cell phone rang Herman knew it was Stephen, calling in a panic. She had unintentionally sent a message of distress to his mother, and Stella had picked up on it as Herman knew she would. But she hadn’t known if the older woman would understand that the message was because of the horrible dream she’d had: Nina telling Stephen that her prayers had been answered, Stephen kissing her, Nina’s incredible joy that she and Stephen were now a family, and Stephen’s love directed elsewhere—a love so full and so rich and all-consuming, that his love for Herman paled in comparison.

  She reached to take her cell from her father’s hand, but he answered it himself.

  “She can’t come to the phone right now,” George snapped. Aunt Aggie stood at his side, hollering something Herman couldn’t hear. “What do you mean what did I do to her?” her father said. “She woke up screaming. What did you do to her? No, she can’t come to the phone! She’s crying, you prick!”

  Herman watched Aunt Aggie swing at George with her purse, making him duck.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Let her talk to him, asshole,” Aunt Aggie wailed.

  Her father went as white as a sheet. “Dagmar heard that …” He reached his hand out to Herman and she snatched the phone out of it.

  She was tempted to tell him that Stephen could see the ghost of her great-aunt too, but all she really wanted was to hear his voice.

  “What’s going on?” Stephen yelled angrily into the receiver when she put it to her ear.

  “Stephen?”

  “Herman, what’s wrong? My mother said you called out to her.”

  “It was only a bad dream.” Herman sniffed. At least she hoped it was. “Tell me you’re not in love with her.”

  “With who, Nina? Of course not. The baby just came.” Herman could tell that he was having a hard time keeping his elation out of his voice, despite his concern for her.

  “I should let you get back to them, then,” Herman whispered. She hung up and went to her Aunt Beryl. Pressing her face into the soft fold of the older woman’s shoulder, she allowed herself to cry. Ten minutes later, as she was settling herself back on the sofa with a blanket, she heard a telltale whistle from the direction of the bedroom.

  She stood and moved quickly down the hallway to her room, her father close behind her. She glimpsed Stephen by the light in the hallway, lying prostrate, as though he had been lain to rest. She made it through the door before her father, and closed it.

  He pounded on the other side. “What’s happe
ning?” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed with all his weight, knocking Herman off her feet and onto the bed beside Stephen. She managed to twist at the last second to avoid landing on her stomach.

  “Dad, no,” she yelled, rubbing her side.

  “Sorry, Herman, are you okay?” he asked, unable to drag his gaze off Stephen. George was only half-drunk, as evidenced by the fact that he had bothered to ask.

  “Yeah, whatever,” she moaned, confused and upset at what Stephen had done.

  “Why do you have to interfere with everything?” she snapped.

  “Interfere?” He flipped on the light switch by the door, illuminating the man, the love of her life, as he lay vulnerable on the bed. “Is that what you call my being concerned about you and this …” He pointed at Stephen. “How did he do that?” he asked, staring at Stephen’s form on the bed.

  “Magic,” Herman mumbled. She looked up into her father’s eyes with growing anger. “Real magic.”

  “So, he really did levitate … He can levitate people too?”

  “Yes, he did. You weren’t supposed to be at the show in Japan where he levitated his assistant. You’re the only one that would have realized that what he did was impossible.”

  “Considering what they were doing, I almost missed it myself.” He said it dismissively, but there was an undertone of disbelieving awe in his voice. He stood silent for a moment, studying Stephen’s seemingly lifeless body. “Is he dead?”

  Herman leaned over Stephen and checked his pulse, though she was sure he was fine. “He’s alive. He won’t wake up for at least two hours.”

  “You’ve seen him do this before?”

  “Yes,” she answered, without elaborating that he had done it to her.

  “And he was in Ontario before he came here? When he called you a minute ago?” His eyes bulged at the thought.

  “No, he was in Antigua,” she said, realizing she had given something away even as she said it; it was too late to take it back.

  “Antigua, like the island Antigua?” Her father looked about to burst a blood vessel.

  “Yes.”

  Aunt Beryl appeared in the doorway, and Herman silently thanked God that Chad had gone to a friend’s house for the night.

  “Is he okay?” Aunt Beryl asked, a deep frown lining her forehead.

  “He’s fine,” Herman answered. “I just want to lie down for a while. I’m tired.”

  “Sure,” George said begrudgingly. “But I want to talk to him when he wakes up.”

  “I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you too. But let him recover first, okay? It’ll be a few hours at least. He’s had a hard day.”

  “Can I get you anything?” Aunt Beryl asked her.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” Herman smiled gratefully. Her aunt nodded and closed the door behind herself and her brother-in-law. Herman turned off the light and crawled up to the pillow to lay beside Stephen. She watched him in the light of the street lamp until her eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer.

  * * *

  It was the nightmare again, the one of Stephen kissing Nina, but this time their baby was cradled in his arms. He looked down at the child and said, “Herman.”

  “NO!” Herman tried to scream. “You can’t name her baby Herman! That’s my name!”

  “Herman,” he said again. “Herman.”

  The energy of her scream built up in her throat, but she allowed it to subside when she realized she might no longer be dreaming. She listened for it again. His voice came from outside her dream. Stephen spoke her name, gently shaking her. She opened her eyes and looked straight into his. The mahogany tinge in his irises glowed softly in the lamplight and the shadow of his lashes fanned out over his cheeks, as he slowly opened and closed his eyes, like he was forcing himself to stay awake. He lay on his side. How long have I been asleep? She glanced at the alarm clock: four hours had passed since he had transported himself from Antigua.

  “Why did you come?” she whispered to him.

  “Because I couldn’t stand to be away from you any longer,” he whispered slowly back.

  Something was wrong. If he was strong enough to roll over—and to turn the lamp on—his speech should already be fine. “Are you okay?” She got up quickly onto her elbow to look at him, dismissing a twinge of pain in her side.

  “I don’t know. Might have been too soon.”

  “Do you want to go to the hospital?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

  He lifted his hand from where it had dropped when she moved, and put it on hers. “I think I just need to recover a bit longer. I’m getting better all the time.” He smiled at her. “I missed you.”

  “Oh, Stephen, I missed you too, so much.” She bent over him to hold him with her free arm. She wanted to ask him about the baby, but she couldn’t come up with the right words. Not after her nightmare.

  “Why did you do it?” she repeated at length, lifting her head from his shoulder and reclining again beside him, nose to nose. “You must have known my dad would find out you transported yourself.”

  “I’m tired, Herman,” he said, looking into her eyes.

  “I know …”

  “Not just now. I’m tired of fighting with him. After all, we’re on the same side. We both want to keep you safe. I’m going to tell him I don’t want to be opposed any more. I’ll tell him whatever he needs to know. If he still can’t agree with me, then he’s going to have to choose. Get along or get out of our lives.” Stephen swallowed hard. “That is, if you want to stay with me after I give him an ultimatum. I don’t want to ask you to choose between us. But he’s making it necessary. I can’t live like this.”

  “Of course I choose you, Stephen. I’ve lived without my dad half of my life already. I can’t live without you.” She reached up and stroked his hair away from his face, marveling at the contrast between his pale skin and the depth of black contained in each shiny strand.

  Stephen was about to speak when George staggered into the room.

  “What the fuck are you up to, Dagmar?” he splurted.

  “Dad!” Herman sprang off the bed. She bent at the waist, her fists clenched. She agreed with Stephen. Enough was enough. “You can’t just barge in here without knocking!”

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want. I’m your father.” George held onto the door frame for support as he leaned farther into the room, almost landing on the bed beside Stephen.

  “George, I’ll talk to you in the morning,” Herman heard him say; the hoarseness in his voice frightened her. With strength she knew he barely possessed, he climbed to his knees on the bed.

  “H—how the fuck did you end up with sssso much power?” George babbled.

  “Same way you did. I inherited it.”

  George lost his balance finally and flopped down on the bed. Stephen took him by the collar and stood, lifting George onto his feet.

  “But,” Stephen continued slowly, “I don’t need magic to kick you the fuck out of our room. Are you going to leave under your own power? Or am I carrying you out?”

  “I’ll go, I’ll go,” he said. “But I want to talk to you in the morning, you fucking …” Herman didn’t hear what came next—Stephen pushed him out and shut the door in his face. He plopped back down onto the bed and held out his arms, drawing her onto his lap.

  “Where did you get all that energy from?”

  “Adrenaline. It seems to have an effect over how fast I recover. I have this under control, Herman. Don’t worry.”

  Herman considered her father’s drunken confession about why he hated Stephen, though, and she wondered if the two men in her life would forever be at odds.

  “Do you remember I told you on the phone I thought I knew why my dad has such a problem with you?”

  “Yes,” he said, rocking her in his arms. “What did he tell you that was so incredible?”

  “First of all, I found out why all the girls on my dad’s side of the family ha
ve male names. Aside from the belief that giving us girls’ names is unlucky, it’s an old tradition of denial for what we are. Generations ago, it was to keep us from detection.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  CHAPTER 36

  As usual, George was ripe to bursting with apologies at the dining room table the next morning. Stephen, so full of hearing them, could barely stomach his food. He ate, however, to be polite. Beryl had covered the table with more condiments for his toast than he’d ever seen in one place, as well as a bowl of chopped fruit, a pot of coffee, and three varieties of cereal. He consumed all he could before pushing his plate away, tired of the platitudes George was sprinkling over his daughter—a magician in the act of redirection.

  “I have a trick for you, George,” he said finally. “Actually, it’s kind of a trick in reverse. How about you stop with the false apologies and the insincere humility, and I don’t make you disappear.”

  Apart from the wall clock’s ticking, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Aunt Beryl began to clatter about, picking up dishes.

  “I think I’ll go and pick up Chad from his friend’s house. Herman, do you want to come with me?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll stay.”

  Beryl stopped what she was doing and stared pointedly at her niece. “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t worry. I want to stay.”

  “Suit yourself,” her aunt said, and walked out with a handful of dishes.

  Meanwhile, Stephen stared into George’s eyes, holding his gaze steadily and hypnotically.

  “I’m afraid you’ve become obsessed, George, and quite honestly, it concerns me. Herman tells me you pushed her and hurt her last night in your rush to get to me.”