Serena walked over and gave him a hug. “Congratulations.”
He gave her a quick squeeze then let go as she stepped away. Before he realized what she planned, Serena lifted the delicate bundle from Maleena and handed it to him.
“Oh no, I’ve never held a baby before, I don’t know what to do,” he protested even as his arms cradled his daughter’s tiny form securely.
Serena smiled and stepped back. “Nonsense, you’re a natural. Just watch her head; her neck isn’t strong enough to hold it up yet.”
Mckale stared down at the little pink face as a sense of wonder stole over him. “Welcome to the world, little Emmaleen.”
Fonja stumbled along paying no heed to her chapped and bleeding feet or the hot sun bearing down on her. She patted her swollen belly with one hand as she munched a piece of melon in the other. It was delicious and the sweet moisture a welcome relief to her thirst. It was fortunate she’d found so many of them growing in the desert.
How many months had she wandered the empty grasses along the edge of the desert? Where was she going? A thought almost out of reach nagged at her that she needed to find somewhere to do something important. Fonja paused and looked around, trying to remember where she’d been and how she got here.
Darkness lingered on the edge of her thoughts. Her mind shuddered away from it. Memories of eating raw lizards and mice flashed through her mind, and she flinched away from those too. Those days were behind now that she’d found the melons.
Fonja stumbled forward again. She had to get somewhere safe to do something important. A push from inside her stomach made her look down at the small mound that was her abdomen. She stared at it curiously. The something had to with her belly, but what was it?
The sun had nearly reached the horizon when the pains began. Fonja rubbed her stomach in confusion. Maybe the melon wasn’t any good. She examined the fruit in her hand, its sweet flesh looked tasty enough, and it helped her ever-nagging thirst. Maybe she just needed to rest.
She started to sit but paused. Ahead a light flickered. Maybe that was the place she was supposed to find to do the important thing.
Pain bunched the muscles in her stomach at regular intervals now. She had to get to the flickering light so she could do the important thing and make the pain go away. It had to be why the pain had come, to remind her to do the important thing. What was it again? She struggled to remember. Dark memories rose up, and her mind retreated again.
As the light grew closer, she smoothed her hair and dress, not wanting to look a mess when she met whoever occupied the light. Fire, the flickering light was fire. Memories of a man, gentle when he bedded her, flitted across her mind. Then more memories of him hurting her, threatening to kill her, his face twisted with hate.
Her mind dimmed, and she took a bite of melon.
A flurry of activity greeted her arrival at the camp. The people were strange looking. Something about them looked so familiar, but the how and what were too closely linked with the darkness.
The pain doubled her over as it ripped through her and warm liquid ran down her legs. Why was there blood?
Angeni stood as Helki followed a human woman into the camp. Pain held the woman in its grip as blood ran down her legs. One hand wrapped her swollen belly while another held a piece of cactus. More blood smeared the woman’s mouth, torn by the thorns of the cactus. What was left of her ragged dress hung like a sack on her shrunken frame, making her pregnant belly look almost grotesque. Her bare feet were cracked and bleeding.
She smiled at them, and her sunken eyes held a deranged look.
Angeni laid a hand on her mate’s arm to keep him from approaching this strange apparition wandering in from the desert. Her eyes followed the stranger. “Though she is gone in the head she is no danger to us. And close to giving birth.”
“How did she get out here? And is that cactus she’s eating?” Avendala asked, her tone incredulous.
Another pain brought the woman to her knees. Angeni hesitated only a moment. Whatever had befallen this woman, her child didn’t deserve to die—if the babe wasn’t already dead. She took in the woman’s condition. It was amazing the woman herself was still alive.
Angeni turned to a lower-ranking woman, “Misu, prepare a birthing bed. Be quick now.”
As Misu hurried away, Angeni walked up and placed her hand on the woman’s arm. She was little more than skin and bone. “Come, we will help. Have no fear. I am Angeni. Do you have a name?”
The woman nodded. “I am…Fon…Fonja. I think that is right. I have to do something important. Do you think I can do that here?”
With Pamuya’s help, she guided Fonja to the large hide spread out on the ground with pillows laying on it. “What important thing do you need to do?”
“I…” Fonja gazed around, a bewildered look on her sunken face. “I don’t remember. I try, but the shadows are in my memory, and I can’t…”
“We will help you to figure it out. Right now, why don’t you settle down here?” Pamuya helped the woman to lay on the fur and recline against the pillows.
Angeni brought a cup of water, which the woman gulped down. “There is too much blood,” Pamuya whispered.
Angeni nodded. Unless human women were different, there was too much blood already and little likelihood of a live birth. The woman, Fonja, didn’t even look pregnant enough to be ready to give birth. Her belly only looked as big as it did because she was starved. How she carried a child at all was a mystery to Angeni.
Fonja cried out and curled up as more pain wracked her shrunken frame. Pamuya shook her head and looked at Angeni and Avendala. “It will be a miracle if she even has the strength to give birth.”
Angeni stared at the woman writhing on the fur. “There are other ways to save the babe if the mother cannot be saved. For now, let us make her as comfortable as we can.
Pamuya nodded. “We shall do our best then.”
As night crawled slowly over the land and the crescent moon climbed into the sky, Pamuya bathed away the blood on Fonja’s feet and applied a poultice to the lacerations. Angeni gave her a tea to ease the pain, though it didn’t seem to be much help, and spooned some stew between the woman’s lips. Darkness had just fully settled its mantel over the desert when Angeni sensed a change.
“Angeni, it’s happening,” Pamuya said, her old voice tense.
Angeni nodded. “I know.” Fonja’s breathing was shallow and too much blood flowed freely from between her legs. The woman’s skin was feverish as well. She cried out as the pains came, one on top of the other, unable or too delirious to push.
Finally, as Fonja twisted and screamed, Angeni was able to deliver the head and shoulders. The rest of the baby came easily after that. A boy. His color wasn’t good. Angeni gripped him by the ankles and turned him upside down before smacking him on the bottom.
The babe let out a shrill cry, and his color immediately began to pink up. Fonja stretched a hand toward the babe, a moment of clarity on her face as she gasped for air. “The important thing I had to do.”
Angeni cleaned the newborn quickly as Pamuya cut the connection to his mother. Then she wrapped him snuggly in a soft blanket. “What would you name him?”
Fonja slumped back, her arm falling to her side though her gaze remained locked on her son. “Marek…” She took a shuddering breath and whispered, “His name is Marek…” Her eyes closed, and her head fell to the side. The red stain on the fur grew rapidly.
Angeni watched as Fonja’s chest rose once, twice, and then never again. She blinked back tears for the woman who had given the last of her strength to bring her child into the world.
As she cradled the infant in her arms, she really looked at him for the first time. A matt of black hair covered his head and silver eyes peered sleepily up at her. He was so tiny. But then she was used to Ke’han babies. It was possible all human babies were this small, though something told her that this one was tiny, even for a human.
She glanced at the wome
n who had gathered near during the ordeal. Algoma’s oldest daughter had given birth a scant moon ago. “Onatah, I give this babe into your keeping until we can find some humans to raise him. One babe is difficult enough to care for at this age, two will be more so. However, you are the only one who can feed him and ensure his life. The other babies of the camp are already beginning to move away from nursing, and he will need newer and more plentiful milk.” She gestured for the younger woman to come forward. “Although you are the only one who can feed him, we will all help to ensure you don’t feel the burden too heavily.”
Onatah came forward and gently took the tiny bundle. “He is so little. Do you think he will live?”
Angeni shook her head. “I do not know. We can only try.”
“What shall I call him?” Onatah asked, her eyes on the new babe.
Angeni ran a finger over the black hair. “His mother named him Marek. We will respect her wishes and call him that.”
“Marek…Marek.” Onatah repeated the strange sounding name several times. “I will see if he is ready to have his first meal. He is too tiny; he needs some fat on him.” Onatah took her adoptive son and settled on the furs and pillows around the fire she had with her mate.
Angeni watched Onatah’s young mate lean over and examine the child as she put him to her breast. He would take no issue with the babe. It was a woman’s business what child she raised and thanks to their meeting with Maleena and Mckale, the camp had kinder thoughts when it came to humans.
She glanced back at the body of the woman as the men folded the fur up over it and lifted the bundle to carry away into the desert. The predators would take care of the body. Where had she come from?
Kovan looked up as Azurynn strolled into his quarters and leaned against the wall. With a sigh, he set his papers aside. “What do you want, Azurynn?”
She gazed at him through her heavily lidded eyes. “Do you remember your little maid? Fonja, wasn’t that her name? The one you dumped in the middle of nowhere.”
His stomach turned at the mention of her name. The woman had went easily to bed with him and then gotten pregnant to try and destroy him. “What about her?”
Azurynn smiled at him. “She had a boy. She died during the birth, but the child lives. I saw a vision of it.”
Kovan suppressed the flash of rage her news brought on. “I don’t care one way or the other.”
Azurynn’s smile turned sardonic. “Oh, I think you do. What a shame the babe didn’t die with his mother is exactly what you were thinking actually.” With a laugh, she turned and walked away.
Kovan grabbed the inkwell on his desk and threw it across the room. The ink splattered, leaving a dark stain on the wall. He stood and threw the chair too before storming out into the hall. A male servant stumbled back, trying to get out of his way. Kovan made a quick weave and lashed out at the man with it. The servant gasped and fell against the wall, his hand on his chest as blood oozed from his eyes, nose, and ears. Kovan stared at him, holding the weave until the man was dead.
He continued down the hall, leaving two more male servants dead in his wake. How dare Fonja give birth to a live child. How dare she not die before the pregnancy got that far. She did this to spite him. Damn the Fates, he was not a father. He would have to find the child and kill it. He couldn’t allow it to destroy him. It would be better that way. The child would be better off. Except he didn’t know where to look.
As he entered the main chamber, one of the mages approached him. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders. “Kovan, I needed to speak—” He lashed out at her, striking her with his fist and sending her sprawling on the floor.
Kovan stared at her. Fonja had done this. This was her fault, hers and the child she’d given birth to. He was behaving like his father and it was all her fault. Rage built inside until he felt he would burst. Kovan turned and spotted a male mage several feet away, staring at him with wide eyes. He lashed out with the same weave. The mage staggered as blood poured from the openings in his face.
Screams echoed through the chamber as he continued his rampage, killing three more male mages before calling Quillan down to him. He would find the child and kill it. The babe would be better off for it. Fonja couldn’t have gone that far.
First though, he had to tame the monster inside him. It would be terrible, but he couldn’t help it. What he was about to do was all Fonja’s fault for not dying as she was supposed to, for giving birth to his child.
Azurynn watched Kovan leave the Kormai, taking no notice of the carnage in the main chamber. His thoughts had been clear enough. He meant to kill the babe. Something stirred in a dry corner of her dark heart. Azurynn knew what it was like to be unwanted, to be sold and then wanted for all the wrong reasons. She knew what it was like to kill a baby for the right reasons. Kovan’s reasons weren’t the right ones.
She would find the babe before he did. It would be best for the babe. It was a chance to right a wrong in her past and also best for Kovan. His personal demons were driving him to the edge now; they would carry him over it if he killed the child. She knew that better than anyone did. The memory of his mother protecting him and the monster created by his father would war within him until they tore him apart.
Kovan meant nothing to her personally, but the Kormai needed him. Had she foreseen his reaction, Azurynn would have never told him. She truly thought he would rant and rage and then bring the child to the Kormai to be raised. However, Azurynn sensed no wavering in the decision within Kovan’s mind.
Sadira stormed into the main chamber, her shadows flowing around her as she took in the dead mages. “What in the void happened in here?”
“Kovan lost it. Give him an hour or so, and then go collect him before he gets himself killed.” Azurynn pinned Sadira with a look that brooked no nonsense should the woman feel the need to argue. “The Kormai needs him. If you truly wish his death, it can be done after the war with the Guardians is over.”
Without waiting for an answer, Azurynn picked up her cloak from the padded bench by the wall and strode to the center of the main chamber, calling Murynn down to her. She would handle the babe herself.
Sadira approached the border town of Basc slowly. The buzzing of flies hung heavy over the town, punctuated only by the flap of buzzard wings. Ranit followed behind, the tips of her wings leaving grooves in the dirt. Blood stained the street and several of the walls, and the stench of death, vomit, and bodies that had soiled themselves during their last throws of life clogged her airways. She held a small satchel of dried flowers to her nose. It didn’t help, only added a floral scent to the reek.
She found Kovan in the town center on a pile of bodies in front of a fountain. He sat with one leg up, his arm resting across his raised knee, and a roll of tobacco in his hand. Sadira examined the pile; it was just as she figured, all men. In fact, it looked as if every man and boy child in the village was in that pile.
To the side of the town square, the women and girls of the village cowered against a wall, their weeping an accompaniment to the tinkling of the fountain. Sadira eyed the man on the pile cautiously. “Kovan.”
He took a long drag off the tobacco roll and blew out the cloud of smoke, giving her a little nod. “Sadira.” He glanced at the roll in his hand. “These really are pretty good, you know. There are quite a few of them in this town. Apparently it’s something they make.” Kovan looked down at the pile of bodies and chuckled darkly. “Used to make.”
Sadira eyed the women and girl children. “And what of them?” He had certainly created a mess.
Kovan followed her look and sighed. “Regrettably, in spite of everything, I still find that I can’t kill them.” He shrugged.
“Why don’t you go back to the Kormai, and I will clean up here.” She glanced at the huddled women. “We need a few more servants.” Especially since the deranged idiot had killed some of them along with several of her mages. “Some of the younger girls would fill that gap nicely with some training.”
He jumped down off the pile. “Do what you wish. I find I’m tired now. Make sure those you choose bring as many as they can carry of the tobacco packets and the papers to wrap it in.” Kovan held the tobacco roll up for her to see.
“Whatever you want, Kovan.” Had the whole thing completely unhinged him? She looked around at all of the bodies again. He did have some nice handiwork here though. Either way, she didn’t really care other than the Kormai needed him and if he stayed here much longer, Guardians were sure to show up and they would likely kill him.
Kovan flipped the nub of tobacco roll on the ground and walked over to Quillan. Within moments, the black had lifted off and Jumped; back to the Kormai she hoped. With a sigh, she turned to the huddled women. “Now, what to do with you?”
Ignoring their pleas for mercy, Sadira looked them over. “You, you, you, and you.” She pointed to four young women, likely barely off their mother’s apron strings. “Go stand over there. If you try to run, my dragon will kill you. If you try to interfere, I will kill you.”
The women stood frozen. Sadira unleashed her shadows, letting each of the four feel their bite. “You will do as I say, always and without question.” With sobbing cries, they ran to stand by Ranit.
Pulling on her powers, she turned the full weight of her shadows on the remaining women and girls. It was quick and merciless. Not the way Sadira liked it, she preferred to draw out deaths. But she needed to be done with this and out of this town as soon as possible.
Turning her back on the huddled mass of blistered and rotting bodies, she walked toward Ranit and her new servants.
After three days of searching, Azurynn found what she sought. Murynn landed right at the edge of their camp, her black wings whipping the sand up as the creatures ran. The females crowded back against the wall of the half-moon canyon while males lined up in front, their weapons at the ready.
Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) Page 7