She slowly shook her head, jarring a few tears loose. “I don’t see any other way, dad.”
The sadness in her aura grasped Aedan’s heart and twisted. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered, brushing a thumb over her tears.
She grabbed his wrist and held tight. “Don’t be sorry,” she insisted, moving his hand to her stomach. “Not about this.”
He ran his hand under her shirt, finding soft skin. “Never about this.”
“They’re right,” Serafin cut in, briefly meeting Caitrin’s stare. “The best we can do is get them to safety without being seen. At least there’s a chance for them that way. Agro would do anything to get his hands on their baby. If they stay here, he’ll quickly discover the truth. Then there will be no hope...” His voice broke, and sad silence held the room, leaving everyone breathless.
~ * * * ~
By that evening, the plans were made, the farewells were said, and Aedan and Rhosewen were as prepared as they would ever be to leave their home. For how long, no one knew.
Daleen had been gone all day, hunting down a place for them to stay, and had met a nice woman living in Ketchum, Idaho. Thirty-one-year-old Katherine Moore was single and childless, a secretary by day and a loner by night. As luck—or fate—would have it, she had a fully furnished, garage apartment with activated utilities and phone service. Daleen softened her up with two years rent, telling her the truth mostly—the apartment was a gift for her son and daughter-in-law who were expecting a baby. She gave Katherine their new names, Chris and Sarah Callaway, and told her they’d be arriving late that night, insisting she not wait up for them.
Daleen had worked out the where while Aedan, Serafin and Caitrin had worked out the how. Morrigan was a mess, unable to tear her attention away from Rhosewen for more than a few seconds at a time, so she didn’t take part in the planning.
The six of them would leave together after sun down, lowering their bodies’ visibility with the same spell they used when they flew during the day. Hiding their auras and bonded lights, however, was something none of them were accustomed to, so Aedan and Rhosewen practiced throughout the day, finding it fairly easy to do. Combined, the concealment spells would provide excellent cover, but an alert magician standing in the right place at the right time could easily spot a shimmer of evidence, so several coven members patrolled the surrounding lands and skies, making sure the Unforgivables weren’t close enough to witness the family’s departure.
Inside their house, Rhosewen and Aedan said sad goodbyes to their parents. The six of them wouldn’t be landing together. In fact, each couple would be landing in a different time zone.
The witches cried, and the wizards flexed, eyes shiny and red.
“Keep in touch,” Serafin insisted, grasping Aedan’s shoulders. “We’ll make sure no one hears our side of the conversation.”
“We will,” Aedan whispered, his throat too tight to do more.
As nightfall approached, someone knocked on the door, and Aedan sluggishly moved to open it, wishing the task would distract him longer than a few seconds. “Kemble,” he greeted, scanning his aura.
“Everything’s clear,” Kemble reported. “We haven’t seen a soul.”
“Thanks,” Aedan mumbled, starting to turn away. Then he paused and looked back. “Will you leave as well?”
Kemble shrugged as he glanced at his house. “We haven’t decided.”
“You should,” Aedan insisted. “If Agro drops in looking for us and sees your lights…” He swallowed and shook his head. “Just go, get away for a while. Maybe stay with Cordelia’s parents.”
Kemble thoughtfully nodded. “Cordelia and I have discussed our options. If we decide to go, we have places to stay.” He glanced at Rhosewen’s tear-streaked face then met Aedan’s sorrowful stare. “I’m sorry, Aedan,” he said, clasping his hand. “I have a pretty good idea what you’re going through, and I hate that such hard times have fallen on you. Be safe, be strong, and come back to us sooner rather than later.”
“We’ll do our best,” Aedan agreed. “Take care of Cordelia and Quinlan.”
Kemble nodded and stepped away. “Goodbye, Aedan.”
“Until next time, Kemble.”
“Until next time,” Kemble repeated. Then he shot toward his post.
“Everyone knows the plan,” Caitrin hoarsely announced. “Call when you safely arrive.”
Aedan and Serafin nodded, but the women continued to cry, and Rhosewen was gasping for air.
Aedan took her face and leaned close, touching his nose to hers. “Breathe,” he whispered.
She nodded, keeping her gaze glued to his as they inhaled and exhaled together, and her eyes eventually dried as her shaking quieted.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she squeaked.
He watched her for another moment then turned to his parents, concealing their bodies and lights while Rhosewen did the same for Morrigan and Caitrin. After Aedan and Rhosewen performed their spells on each other, only hazy shimmers occasionally caught the light, revealing the location of the six magicians.
Each couple clutched hands. Then they stepped into the warm, night air, shooting into the sky as one. They flew east for thirty minutes then south for two hours. When they turned east again, Caitrin and Morrigan slowed, their silhouettes appearing over the bright moon then dropping out of sight. The two of them planned to retrace their path to the community, keeping their senses alert to signs they’d been followed.
The others flew east for another hour and a half. Then Serafin and Daleen appeared out of nowhere, but they didn’t slow down or turn around. They merely held each other close as they continue east. Aedan and Rhosewen were no longer with them. They’d turned north.
An hour later, with Rhosewen wrapped in a hug, Aedan landed in the quiet backyard of a two-story, country home. He scanned his surroundings as he climbed the stairs outside an old garage. Then he used the key Daleen had given him, opening the door to a small, one-room apartment.
After checking the bathroom and closet, they released their concealment spells and appeared in each other’s arms, but they didn’t speak. They just held tight, catching each other’s hot tears and labored breaths.
Once the tears ran dry, Aedan called Caitrin. Then he and Rhosewen crawled into their strange bed, drained by their long and emotional day.
Chapter 25
Katherine Moore—tall and slender with long brown hair and bifocals over large, milk chocolate eyes. She was sweet, instantly likable, with an aura that shone brighter than most non-magical auras. The haze was laced with saddening colors, indicating a troubled past and a deep hesitancy to trust the world around her, but it also held an exceptional amount of optimism and compassion.
Katherine adored Rhosewen from day one, doting on her every chance she got. Within six weeks, Rhosewen had found true friendship in Katherine, albeit based on lies.
One evening, as Aedan ran errands, Katherine joined Rhosewen for tea. She’d been thrilled to accept Rhosewen’s invite, and was in an excellent mood as she refilled their mugs, raving about a baby crib she’d seen at a flea market.
“It was so pretty,” she said, adding heaps of sugar to Rhosewen’s tea, “all white with spindly rails. You would have liked it.”
Rhosewen stirred her beverage then sipped, watching the pulsing haze surrounding her company. “It sounds pretty. You should have bought it.”
“You can’t get a crib without seeing it first,” Katherine countered.
“Not for me,” Rhosewen laughed. “For you. You like kids, right?”
“I love kids,” Katherine confirmed.
“Then you’ll probably have one someday.”
Katherine’s aura darkened as her expression fell, making her look older, sadder and wiser. But then her lips curved into a hopeful smile. “I can’t carry a baby, but I would like to adopt one. Someday soon, I hope.”
“Oh,” Rhosewen whispered, eyes moistening. “Adoption is a special commitment. I
t takes a special person to do it. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
Rhosewen believed what she said, yet her heart ached for Katherine—an outwardly average, inwardly amazing, beautiful woman, who would never know what it feels like to carry a baby, to know her body was responsible for the most precious, miraculous, magical thing possible.
Sharp pangs suddenly ripped through Rhosewen’s bones, and her mug shattered on the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, grasping at air before finding the edge of the table, her knuckles and face painfully tense.
“Sarah!” Katherine shouted, rushing around the table. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Rhosewen rasped. “I just… need… a second.” She forced herself to breathe through the subsiding pain, which quickly ebbed to a tolerable ache. “I’m better now,” she said, peeling her hands from the table as she willed her smarting body to stand.
“What are you doing?” Katherine gasped.
“Cleaning up my mess,” Rhosewen answered, waving a shaky hand toward broken glass.
“I don’t think so,” Katherine protested, urging Rhosewen to sit. “I’ll clean up your mess while you tell me what that was all about.”
“It’s nothing,” Rhosewen assured. “I’ve just been achy since I got pregnant. Sometimes it flares up.”
“You should see a doctor.”
“It’s not that bad,” Rhosewen countered. “I don’t know why I dropped my cup. Clumsiness, I guess.”
Katherine halted, suspiciously eying her hostess. “You’re the most graceful woman I’ve ever met, Sarah. Whatever that was hurt you more than you’re letting on. You need to see a doctor.” She dumped the broken glass in the trash then turned back with raised eyebrows. “Does Chris know about this?”
“No,” Rhosewen mumbled, thinking about how much energy she devoted to keeping Aedan in the dark. Of course she felt guilty—an unending, gut wrenching, stomach flipping kind of guilty. But she hadn’t found the courage to destroy his happiness. When he performed physical examinations on her and the baby, she worked her own magic, shielding the sore areas of her body when his hands moved over them, and she’d learned how to manipulate her aura, which took constant concentration.
“That’s what I thought,” Katherine sighed, “because he wouldn’t let this go on without getting you medical help. He loves you and that baby too much.”
“I know,” Rhosewen conceded. “I’m going to tell him.”
“Soon?”
Rhosewen was deciding how to answer when Aedan walked in. Katherine glanced at him then shot a meaningful look at Rhosewen, but she didn’t say anything more on the subject.
Aedan covered the distance to Rhosewen in two strides, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms. “Hello, my love,” he breathed, doing so easily for the first time since he’d left. He kissed her lips then knelt, nuzzling and kissing her stomach. “Hello, my other love.”
Rhosewen’s pain pulsed, but she held perfectly still. She’d become quite skilled in her dishonest quest.
Aedan straightened and looked to Katherine, who’d been leaning against the counter, admiring the family reunion. “How are you, Katherine?” he asked.
Katherine shook her head clear and smiled, scanning the room for her purse. “Good, Chris. Thanks for asking. Did you get by the bank before they closed?”
He hadn’t gone to the bank. He’d flown to a nearby town to call his parents. They couldn’t achieve a magical connection at these distances, and something as non-magical as phone records could easily lead to their discovery, so they kept their phone calls from the apartment down to two a week.
“I did,” he lied. “Just barely.”
“Better late than never,” Katherine returned, grabbing her purse off the sofa. “Well, I have things to do around the house. Call if you need anything, Sarah.”
“I will,” Rhosewen replied. “Thanks for having tea with me.”
“Anytime. See you guys later.”
“Bye,” they said in unison, waving as she walked out the door.
“She’s sweet,” Rhosewen whispered, burying her face in Aedan’s chest.
“Not as sweet as you,” he countered, nuzzling her hair.
“What did your dad say?”
“They’ve spread the word that we’re on an extended honeymoon, but Agro’s smart enough to figure us out. We just have to hope our hiding place stays safe.”
“It will,” she assured. “It has to.” The alternative was unthinkable. “Maybe I’ll try to commune with the Heavens in my dreams. Mother Ava led me to you. Maybe she’ll lead me to answers.”
“You believe the Goddess of the Heavens brought us together?” Aedan asked.
“Who else besides Ava could deliver heaven on earth?” Rhosewen countered. “If I can commune with her in my dreams, perhaps I can persuade her to guide my fairytale down safer paths.”
“You aim to sweet-talk the Heavens,” Aedan laughed, “woo them with your wily charm?”
“Not wily wooing, just… humbly requesting.”
“If anyone can sway the Heavens,” Aedan conceded, nuzzling her ear, “it’s my golden Rose.”
“Mmm…” Rhosewen murmured, leaning into his lips. Then she grinned and pulled away. “Where are the gemstones we brought? Maybe there’s something in there that will sharpen my perception and deepen my meditation.”
Aedan laughed as he dug into his satchel, very willing to humor the magnificent mother of his child.
~ * * * ~
The next few months passed uneventfully, with Aedan and Rhosewen taking full advantage of their idle time, spending days and nights in each other’s arms, singing lullabies to their baby, and getting to know each other’s souls.
Rhosewen’s pain steadily increased, but so did her resistance to it. She’d come to consider it a mild annoyance. It was only fair after all. Everything else was perfect. Not even hiding from the world bothered her too bad. As long as she had Aedan and her baby, she would hide forever. She dearly missed her parents and coven, but the separation was a small sacrifice to make to ensure the safety of her baby and maintain her husband’s peace of mind.
Though she hadn’t received any enlightening visions from the Goddess Ava, she continued to sleep with a bag of gemstones under her pillow. Having them there helped her maintain hope if nothing else, and perhaps someday they’d bring her the courage and wisdom she needed to confess her unexplained aches and pains to Aedan. He was so happy and peaceful not knowing, it made her happy and peaceful as well, so she kept her mouth shut, telling herself the pain wasn’t so bad it should overshadow this joyous time in their lives. But deep in her squirming gut she knew it was wrong. She was harboring a lie that got heavier with each passing day.
Four months into their retreat, they were lying naked in bed—something they did more often than not—and their hands were on her growing belly as Aedan sang a lullaby.
Moments like these were Rhosewen’s favorites, and not even the slight increase in discomfort could prevent her from enjoying them. Occasionally the pain kept her from singing the words, but she could easily sweet-talk Aedan into taking over the lyrics while she hummed along.
Tonight, as she lay aching but happy, humming an upbeat tune, Aedan held his lips to her stomach, singing the song he called Angel’s Lullaby.
“How special you are, my love.
How special you’ll always be.
How much you have touched our lives,
your beautiful mom and me.
We’ll see you soon, sweet child.
How happy we will be
when we look into the eyes
of our angelic baby.”
That’s when it happened—the softest, little thump beneath their fingers. Their beautiful, amazing, wondrous baby was moving. Their eyes met, wide and shiny as grins stretched across their faces. Rhosewen was so thrilled, she had no problem ignoring the flaring burn sliding over her body.
Another tiny thump.
Rhosewen giggled, heart soaring as her toes danced, and Aedan replaced his fingers with his lips, quickly kissing when he felt another kick.
“Wow,” Rhosewen breathed. “It’s amazing, Aedan. I can feel our baby moving inside me.”
“Now can I check?” he asked, tapping anxious fingers on her belly.
Since the beginning, he’d wanted to know the gender of the baby, but Rhosewen made him promise to wait until they felt movement.
“Now you can check,” she agreed.
Aedan grinned and closed his eyes, lightly pressing his palms to her stomach as he searched for the baby’s energy. When Rhosewen laughed and wiggled, his concentration snapped, and he peeked at her with one eye.
“I’m sorry,” she giggled, wiggling again. “I’m just so excited.”
“You need to lie still if you want me to know for sure,” he teased.
“Okay. I promise.” She took a deep breath then held perfectly still.
Aedan focused on her belly, and she eagerly watched, but his expression stayed neutral. After a very long fifty-three seconds, he opened his eyes, a serene smile creasing his chiseled cheeks.
“Well?” she urged, body trembling. She couldn’t wait one second longer.
“It’s a girl,” he answered, his voice impossibly tender. “We’re having a baby girl.”
Rhosewen froze as reality washed over her, flooding her with an intense maternal instinct and an incredibly fierce devotion to her daughter. A baby girl, made up of her and Aedan, created by the love they’d shared, was growing, kicking and living inside her body.
Her body… her burning—breaking—body.
She screamed as the worst pain she’d ever experienced consumed her. She arched and clawed at the bed. A thousand daggers stabbing her, a massive boulder crushing her, flames licking every inch inside and out.
“Rose!” Aedan shouted, trying to stifle her thrashing. “Rose!”
Her head flung back, neck flexed, veins bulging as she willed herself to endure. “Aedan.”
“What?” he blurted, sweeping his gaze over her body. “What’s happening?”
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