Blood of Time: Book 18 of the Witch Fairy Series

by Bonnie Lamer

  “Okay,” I nod.

  Hera lays her hand over my womb and light radiates from her palm. A warm sensation fills me. When the Goddess begins to speak, I feel the magic behind the words flow into me. “My eternal blessings upon this pregnancy borne of true love, desire, and fidelity. I now free you from the mortal suffering associated with the gift of fertility, and as Queen of Olympus, I pledge to you and yours my aid against strife and enmity.”

  My eyes widen as her last words sink in. They widen even more when tiny tendrils of magic reach out from my womb to touch the magic flowing from Hera’s hand. The Goddess laughs as the tiny wisps of magic swirl and dance in the light.

  “They are strong already,” she muses.

  “Yes,” I agree with a slight nod. I can’t manage anything more. I’m still stunned by the fact that Hera went from being totally pissed at me to pledging her allegiance to me and my children. I didn’t think she did that with mortals. Ever.

  Gently, Hera disentangles her magic from the twins’. Bringing her eyes back to mine, she says, “Guard them well. I will stand by my husband in this fight, and you shall have no more quarrel with Olympus.”

  I admit it, I’m awestruck. “Thank you,” I manage. I didn’t realize I did have a quarrel with Olympus until a few minutes ago, but that doesn’t matter now.

  The Goddess takes a step back. “I need to speak with my husband. Farewell, Xandra,” she says with a dismissive nod.

  In the blink of an eye, I go from the place where the light shown so brightly that Taz may be right about needing corneal transplants eventually back to my own living room. The ride is a little smoother this time, and I don’t feel like my body is ripping apart. I suspect that was just an added punishment when Hera believed I was with Zeus.

  My eyes work to adjust to the softer lighting. Finally, I’m able to make out my stunned family. Then, as usually happens when I return from one of these adventures, I am greeted by a cacophony of voices. The loudest of them demanding, “Where the hell have you been!”

  Apparently, Dagda returned from the palace in my absence.

  Chapter 29

  Before I have a chance to come up with a snarky reply to my father, Kallen is in front of me. He grasps my shoulders and looks me over from head to toe. Then, his eyes settle on my lower stomach. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

  Well, I’m certainly not going to respond to him in a snarky way. He looks like he’s been through hell while I was away. Obviously, I missed something big. “I think I should be asking you the same thing,” I reply. I take in his torn clothes and wild hair. I don’t see any injuries at least.

  Kallen waves off my question. “We were visited by a couple rogue Sasquatch while you were away.”

  “What?!” Why would rogue Sasquatch attack? Which leads me to another question. “How long have I been gone?”

  “Four hours,” Xavion tells me over his father’s shoulder.

  The relief on his face that I’m back is almost palpable and my heart lurches. I know the toll these sudden disappearances take on Kallen. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have your mother disappear. “I’m sorry you were worried for that long,” I say softly to my son.

  His sister peers around her father now. “Where were you?” Zyla asks. Her tone is less demanding than her grandfather’s, and the worry in her eyes matches her brother’s. I’m going to have to have a serious talk with the Universe about not pulling me away from my children in the future.

  I really want to hear more about the Sasquatch, but I know I’m not going to get any information about that until I tell them about my adventure. So, I answer Zyla’s question. “I was with Hera.”

  “Hera?” Dagda says in surprise. “As in the wife of Zeus?”

  He knows his Greek gods, I see. “Yes.”

  “She is the one who is always angry, right?” Kegan asks with a creased brow. “Because her husband is always cheating on her?”

  “That’s her,” I grimace.

  His cousin’s words get my husband’s attention, and Kallen eyes me with concern. “Why would Hera want to speak with you?”

  “She was curious about all the help I’ve received from Zeus.” When my husband’s eyes take on a suspicious slant, I know I’m not going to get away with downplaying the incident. Taking a deep breath, I continue, “She was also told that either Zeus or Hades fathered my children.”

  “Gross!” Zyla cries. Next to her, Xavion turns a little green. I don’t blame either of them for how they feel.

  The storm clouds that roll into Kallen’s eyes, though, would rival any that the God of Thunder could create. “Is she still harboring that asinine belief?”

  “No,” I’m quick to assure him. If I don’t make him believe that, I’m afraid he’s going to try to track down the Goddess and set her straight himself. That wouldn’t be wise. “In fact,” I continue, “before I left, she blessed my womb and pledged her allegiance to us in the fight against the Council.”

  There is dead silence in the room as they process my words. Slowly, the thunderclouds in my husband’s eyes dissipate and his body relaxes. He won’t be storming Olympus any time soon.

  Isla and Dagda exchange a look. One of those ‘we’re older and wiser and these kids don’t know what they’re doing’ looks. I hate those looks. “What?” I demand.

  Isla is the one to respond. Choosing her words carefully, she says, “It seems unlikely that such a vengeful goddess would go from believing you may be carrying her husband’s child to pledging her allegiance so quickly.”

  I nod. “Fair point. That’s where the wonders of modern Cowan science come in. Hard to argue with a DNA test,” I gloat.

  They’re still not convinced. Dagda clears his throat and takes his turn. “Be that as it may, it would still be wise to consider that this may be some sort of trick. An attempt to lull you into a false sense of security.”

  Good lord, are they ever going to trust my judgement? I have a fairly decent track record on knowing who to trust and who not to trust. I shake my head. “No, I won’t second guess her blessing,” I inform him.

  “Her blessing?” Tabitha questions from the living room doorway. She’s just now joining us.

  “Yes.” I give her a quick synopsis of everything that happened.

  When I tell her the words that Hera spoke, Tabitha gazes at me in wonder. “She took away the suffering associated with mortal pregnancy?”

  I shrug. “I guess so. I’m not sure what all that entails though.” As great as it sounds, I doubt I’ll have a painless birthing process. That seems too unrealistic to hope for even with the blessing of a goddess.

  Tabitha shakes her head in amazement. “I doubt you will need any more of my nausea remedy,” she says. “Too bad I already picked all those plants.”

  That idea makes me smile. The no nausea part, not the wasted plants. “Do you really think she took away my morning sickness?”

  Tabitha nods. “I believe she did. Time will tell.” Turning first to Dagda and then to Isla, Tabitha informs them, “If a blessing was offered, there is no trick here.” The older Fairy stares them both down until they admit defeat.

  Isla is more willing than Dagda to concede. “It would be highly unusual for a blessing to be offered insincerely,” she admits. Dagda grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t continue to argue the point.

  Finally, the discussion can move forward. “Now that that is settled, will someone please tell me about the Sasquatch?” I ask the room in general.

  With a heavy sigh, Kallen explains, “It seems someone may have put a bounty on my head.”

  Now it’s my turn to get angry. It starts in my toes and shoots up to the top of my head until I’m saturated in it. Someone put a bounty on Kallen’s head? Whoever that is better hope I never find them.

  In response to the massive amount of magic I’ve just pulled in my sudden and fierce rage, Kallen holds up his hands and says, “Xandra, this is simply an attempt to distract us from t
he larger issue. We need to stay focused.”

  What a ridiculous thing to say. “Someone wants to kill you, and you expect me to not react?” I ask incredulously. “Would you be able to do that if the situation was reversed?”

  With a crooked smile, Kallen admits, “No, I would not.” Stepping closer, he opens his arms wide so I can take him in. “But that does not change the fact that I am fine.” He drops his arms again. “I am not saying that we let it go forever. We simply cannot afford to let them divide our attention right now.”

  I know he’s right. I don’t like it, but he’s right. With great reluctance, I release my magic and walk into his arms. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Trying to keep my voice even, I ask, “Where are the Sasquatch now?” Maybe there is still useful information to be gained from them.

  “Locked away at the Palace,” Dagda tells me. When my eyes brighten at their proximity, he informs me, “They are already being interrogated.”

  Frowning, I ask, “By who?” The Sasquatch have very little fear. If they’re being interrogated by someone with weaker magic, they won’t say a word.

  With a grimace, Dagda says, “My wife.”

  “Oh.” Okay. I wondered why I didn’t see Tana anywhere. The fact that she’s the one with the Sasquatch actually makes me pity them a little. She can be scary when she’s doing interrogations. In fact, it doesn’t surprise me that Dagda opted to not watch. He doesn’t like to see the way his wife changed in the years she was gone. It makes him feel super guilty. But, if anyone is going to get the Sasquatch to talk, it will be Tana.

  I would never say this to my father, but I’m kind of glad that I didn’t know Tana before. I’m told she was still a strong woman, but more on the sweet side than the sociopath side where she falls now. The others are much more disturbed by her current behavior than I am because they know firsthand how big of a transformation it’s been. What Dagda’s infidelity did to her. The guilt and shame of which he’ll carry to his grave no matter how much he’s grown to love me. I see the shadow of it in his eyes every time he looks at his wife.

  Since I will never feel guilt or shame about my birth, I don’t want to be reminded of how she used to be every time I look at my now slightly sociopathic stepmother. I’m learning to embrace those qualities and love her as she is. Especially since she’s better now than when I first met her, considering she was trying to kill me then. In my mind, she’s just a super intense Fairy. Most days, the past is between us, and she’s polite and kind. Some days, I think the past haunts her a bit more than she lets on. She tends to avoid this house and me on those days. Mostly to avoid my mother. Which is wise on her part. If she ever decided to exact revenge on my mother, who was oblivious to the fact that Dagda was married when she met him, I would have to step in. That wouldn’t end well for anyone. So, I just let Tana be who she needs to be, and I don’t worry about it if she takes some time to herself. I figure it’s better for family relations if she and I never go head to head again.

  With Tana interrogating the Sasquatch, there’s nothing for me to do on that front. I know she’ll get every last drop of information from them. Glancing around the room, I ask, “Any luck on trying to figure out traps?” I still don’t think they’ll do much good, but I don’t want to burst anyone’s bubble.

  Kallen raises a brow and drawls, “You go missing for several hours and we are attacked by Sasquatch. Do you really believe we spent time working on traps instead of trying to figure out what happened to you?”

  “I believe you’re all great multi-taskers?” I say sheepishly. I guess they were a little preoccupied.

  My daughter comes to my rescue. “We did finish the translation,” Zyla says. “Dad made us do that instead of letting us help with the Sasquatch.” She gives her father a sour look which he ignores.

  I try to suppress my smile, but I do give Kallen an appreciatory wink. Letting the kids help probably would have taken the situation to a whole new level of danger with their wild magic. To show solidarity with my husband’s good judgment, I say to our daughter, “It’s our job to keep you safe, not the other way around.”

  Zyla’s eye roll is expected. The perfection with which she delivers it is impressive. “It’s not like we have powerful magic of our own or anything,” she grumbles.

  “Which you used to open the passageway to every realm, carry yourselves and your parents off to danger, and destroy not only the kitchen but nearly the entire house earlier today,” Isla remarks dryly.

  My, they have had a busy day. I try not to chuckle at my children’s sheepish expressions and downturned eyes with their great grandmother’s chastisement. The reason they were told not to help becoming increasingly apparent in their minds.

  Point taken, Zyla wisely doesn’t press the matter. Instead, she hands me the papers she wrote the translation on. As she does, she explains, “Basically, whoever took these notes just copied random bits directly from the text. They didn’t make notes or anything to say why they thought these passages were important.”

  I raise my brows in her direction. “How do you know they’re direct quotes? Have you read Paradise Lost?”

  With a heavy sigh, she says, “Grandma’s favorite, remember?” Boy, do I. I give her a commiserating glance before giving my attention to the papers she handed me.

  “Glad to hear I’m furthering the minds of future generations,” Mom calls from across the room. The glee in her voice makes me want to roll my eyes. I refrain.

  After doing a quick scan of the papers Zyla gave me, I reluctantly tell my mother, “As much as I hate to admit it, your love of Milton may have paid off.” Her wide, smug grin makes me regret my admission.

  “What does it say?” Dagda asks as he and the others gather around me. Apparently, I’m the first to read what the kids translated. I guess they really were too preoccupied with the Sasquatch and my disappearance to do much else.

  Flipping through the pages, I find myself picking up key words here and there. Clues. Whoever wrote these quotes down may not have made notes on them, but he or she was definitely making a point. Glancing up, I say to the room in general, “Let’s go into the kitchen and sit down. I believe we have a little puzzle to figure out.” To my children and Keelan, I smile and say, “Great work. I’m proud of you for doing this.”

  All three kids grin with pride. “Nothing to it,” Xavion says.

  His sister elbows him in the ribs. “Yeah, for you. You and Keelan basically just ate snacks while I did all the work.”

  “You needed moral support,” Keelan argues with a wink. Zyla glowers back at him.

  Recognizing the signs of a teenage spat to come, Isla says, “Come along, Children. We have more important things to discuss than who is responsible for the translation.” She turns and leads the way into the kitchen.

  She’s not fooling me. I see the proud little smile on her face as she goes by. She is so impressed that her great grandchildren are capable of translating Enochian, she’s mentally doing laps in an Olympic size pool of grandmotherly pride. She’ll never tell them that, though. She wouldn’t want it to go to their heads.

  Chapter 30

  Like the rest of the house, the kitchen shows no sign of the destruction that it suffered just hours ago. Sitting down at the counter with the rest of my family, I spread the translated sheets out in front of me while the others get situated. Tabitha is busy bustling around the kitchen preparing dinner, but I know she’ll be listening just as keenly as everyone else. Glancing around the counter, I say, “I’ll read them all first. Then we can try to piece together the clues.” Because I am positive now that they mean something.

  Picking up the first paper, I begin. “This is from Book 5 of Paradise Lost:

  ​Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens

  ​To us invisible or dimly seen…

  ​Since by descending from the Thrones above,

  Those happie places thou hast deignd a while

  To want, and honour these, voutsafe with us [365]


  Two onely, who yet by sov'ran gift possess

  This spacious ground…

  As yet this World was not, and Chaos Wilde

  Reignd where these Heav'ns now rowl, where Earth

  now rests…”

  Interrupting me, Kegan asks with a creased brow, “Why does it sound like that?” He gives the kids a sidelong glance, obviously wondering if there is something wrong with their translation. Apparently, no one forced him to read Milton over the course of his education. Lucky Fairy.

  “Because I found the corresponding text in the poem and copied it verbatim,” Zyla explains with a huff, taking offense at him doubting her translation abilities. “That’s how it’s supposed to sound.”