Tessen wasn't sure if the relief he felt was hers or his own. It mingled with the pain, infusing it with a wary calm. He drifted over it, came to rest on solid ground, and let her guide him into a green magic-touched sleep.
29
Shan
The tiny copper dragon, hardly bigger than a mouse, squealed and flapped her wings as Shan secured her in the birdcage. He adjusted the latch, then sucked on his finger to draw away the blood from where she'd nipped him. She didn't have any teeth yet, but her jaws were strong enough to tear apart both beetles and flesh.
Squeaking, little Rayna grabbed the bars and looked up at him, her copper eyes both irate and mournful.
“Quiet, Rayna,” Shan whispered. He held his finger to the light. The silver-tinted blood had already clotted. “I know you're concerned, but everything is fine. We don't want you to be crushed.”
Behind him, Marita moaned and smacked her hand against the mattress. She pursed her lips and loosed a whistling exhale.
Shan returned to his place behind her and rubbed her lower back. He felt unsteady when upright, as if inebriated, but she needed his touch. She arched her back to deepen the pressure from his hand as she leaned forward over the bed.
The midwife, a stern-looking middle-aged elf named Jaylarae, looked up from her book but avoided contact with Shan's searching eyes. She clucked her tongue and said, “They're coming back to back. Won't be long now.”
Marita reached back and grabbed Shan's hand. “So much pressure.”
“You'd do well to leave now, Spellkeeper,” Jaylarae said. To Shan's disdain, she folded down the corner of her page and set the book aside. She rubbed her hands over her thighs before standing from the chair.
“I'm not going anywhere,” Shan said. He squeezed Marita's hand as tightly as he could with his two functional fingers. Her enchanted opal and silver bracelet tapped against his fingers.
“It's not normal for fathers to be present for the birth.”
“It is where we're from,” Marita growled. She rocked her hips from side to side and lowered the pitch of her moan.
Shan shrugged and flashed the midwife a wry grin. “My brothers and sister were all caught by their fathers, no midwife even present except with the first one. Shit . . . my grandparents hated each other, but my grandfather was still there for my dad's birth. I don't know what kind of weak, blood-shy men you have here in Anthora, but Jade men don't hide when their wives bring their children into the world.”
“Ohh, they warned me about you. Scary inside and out,” Jaylarae muttered.
Marita's head snapped upward and she bared her teeth. “Get out of here if you're going to be an asshole. Otherwise, keep your pinched little mouth shut unless we need your help.”
Jaylarae sighed and plopped down in the chair. “Fine. I'll just . . . be here. You'll be begging for my advice after the first hour of pushing, girl.”
“Unnhh.” Marita spun around and grabbed Shan's shoulders. “Help me to my knees. Now.”
His own balance precarious, Shan carefully guided her to the floor. She leaned back and pulled off her light shift, the last piece of clothing she wore. She threw it to the side, then put her hand between her legs.
“Don't need to push. Body's doing it for me. Can't stop it.” Her eyes widened and her breaths became ragged. “Can feel the head.”
“Too early for that,” Jaylarae muttered.
“You shut your mouth. It's been twenty hours, and this is a head,” Marita snapped. Her other hand found its way beneath her contracting belly and she panted.
The chair squeaked against the floor as Jaylarae made her way to Marita's side. “You need to move. You're going to destroy the rug.”
“Don't care. Not moving.” She closed her eyes and shuddered through a long groan. “Shan. Look down.”
He did, and saw in her hands a squirming body with a translucent membrane covering its head and shoulders.
“Caul birth, an auspicious omen,” Jaylarae gasped. She crouched and carefully removed the membrane before gently helping Marita raise the baby to her chest.
“I was wrong,” Marita whispered, her face illuminated from within. “I thought from the beginning that he was a girl. He's definitely a boy. We have a son.”
Shan touched the baby's face and all of the concealed pain and inebriated darkness he'd felt over the past weeks diminished. This tiny person, this new life gazing up with uncertain eyes at the mother his umbilical cord still attached him to . . . this was his son. Shan just watched for a minute, maybe two, as the baby settled from fussing and squirming to confused wonder.
His shock subsiding, Shan's throat tightened and he rocked forward to kiss both Marita and the baby. “He's perfect. Just like his mom. You're amazing and he's perfect.”
The tears in Marita's eyes mirrored Shan's as she examined the baby's fingers and toes. “I can't believe I grew someone so wonderful inside me. You created him with me, and you helped him come into the world. One singular soul, unlike any other, and he's ours.” She clenched her jaw and grimaced through her smile.
“What's wrong?”
Jaylarae leaned close and retrieved something from beneath Marita. “That's just the placenta, doing what it's supposed to. Nourished him as he grew, and now that it has completely destroyed this rug, its work is done.” She plopped it in a bowl, then set it aside before turning her attention toward the baby. “Healthy-looking child. His human blood is quite obvious, isn't it? I never see chubby cheeks and thighs like that on pure-elven babies. His cord's ready to clip, so how about we do that and get you both up on the bed?”
Marita stroked the baby's wispy hair as the midwife tied off his cord. “I think . . . I think I need some help getting up. I'm so tired and my heart is racing.”
“Of course you are, and of course it is. You're excited and you've been awake since yesterday.” Jaylarae held out a swaddling blanket. “Hand him to me for a moment so I can get an idea of his weight. Your husband can help you get situated.”
Reluctantly, Marita passed the baby to the midwife. Shan stood on unsteady legs, then helped her to her feet. Her movements were sluggish and her hands and knees trembled as she climbed onto the bed.
“Why am I shaking like this?” Marita asked as Shan propped several pillows behind her. She leaned back and accepted the baby against her bare chest. Jaylarae tucked the blanket around his back as Marita positioned him on her breast.
Jaylarae shrugged and wiped her hands with a wet washcloth. “Most of my mothers shake. You'll likely have chills, too. Adrenaline, the stress of birth . . . I'm not sure what causes it, but it's normal. I suppose I'll go wash myself up, then fill out his papers while you get acquainted with him. Does he have a name yet?”
Shan settled on the bed next to Marita. He reached over so the nursing baby could grasp his fingertips. “Did you decide, Marita?”
She let out a soft giggle. “No. I wanted to see what he looked like first, and now I have no idea because he doesn't look anything like I expected him to.”
“Take your time. I can write that part down later.” She took a step toward the door. “I'll be out here if you need me.”
“He looks like you,” Shan whispered once the midwife was out of sight.
“Does he?” Marita asked.
“Definitely.” Shan watched the uneven rise and fall of the baby's chest. “His hair is light brown, or maybe auburn. Hard to tell with how red newborn skin is. I can't tell what color his eyes will be yet, but they're not like mine. My mom said my eyes were this color when I was born, and his are kind of a grayish-blue. I think he has your nose. Definitely your ears.”
Marita yawned, then leaned against him. “I just want to spend the rest of my life looking at him. I'm so tired, though. I've already been unbearably exhausted for weeks, and now I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
“If he's like Zinnia, he'll nurse for a while and then fall asleep. He's tired, too. When he does, I'll hold him so you can rest. He'll sleep more this
first day than he will for a long time to come.”
“I'd forgotten you have more experience with babies than I do.”
Shan stroked the downy hairs on the baby's bare shoulder. “Not much. I was ten when Alon was born, and I was only allowed six days with Zinnia before I had to run.”
Marita slipped her hand under the blanket so she could rub the baby's back. “I've never held a baby before now. Not even my nieces and nephews.”
“You look so comfortable with him.”
“I'm madly in love and I never want to let him go,” Marita said, laughing. “Maybe that's why my heart feels like it's trying to dig its way out of my chest. Are you all right, Shan? Now that you've finally met him?”
The apprehension was gone and Shan felt only contentment. It was a change he hadn't expected, but now as he gazed up on his son he couldn't remember why he hadn't wanted to be a father before. “I love him. I always have, but he's not abstract anymore. He's real, he's ours, and I want nothing more than to hold him. I can wait on that for a few minutes, but not much longer.”
Marita closed her eyes and inhaled. “He smells good, doesn't he? Almost floral.”
Shan kissed his hand and let the baby's scent drift into his nose. “He smells like you, but sweeter. Same honeysuckle scent you've carried since you bound with Rayna.”
“It's delicious, isn't it?” She kissed the baby's brow, then grinned as he looked up at her. “I still can't believe we made him. Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
“He stopped suckling. I want you to hold him before he decides he needs more. I know you probably don't want the damned meddling midwife to come in and see you, but he needs that skin contact.”
Shan slipped his shirt over his head, then reclined onto the pillows. The silver scars on his chest shimmered with starlight gathered from the night sky beyond the window. Marita laid the baby over his heart, then propped herself on an elbow to watch them.
The baby's heart played a soothing countermelody to his own. His warm skin, impossibly soft and perfectly flawless beneath its vernix, offered an extreme contrast to Shan's mess of marred flesh. Shan loved this child, every twitch of his toes, every breath, every hair, every beat of his heart and blink of his eyes.
Marita traced a silver spiral on Shan's ribs. “You look so relaxed. You've held such pain in your face since we were brought to Anthora, and I don't see any of that right now. Really, I think this is the happiest I've ever seen you.”
“Nothing hurts and I'm in love,” Shan whispered, then kissed the top of the baby's head. “I love you both so much and I wish I could hold onto this moment forever. I'm going to keep it in the place only my best memories are allowed so I can recall it whenever I want. Light in the darkness, my loves, and this is the brightest that lantern has ever been.”
“He's a beacon for both of us.” Tears fell from Marita's eyes as she rubbed a spot behind her ear.
“You keep touching your head there. Is it bothering you?”
“It's nothing. Just a little headache. I've been awake for way too long and haven't eaten enough.”
Shan looked down to find the baby had closed his eyes. “I think he's falling asleep. Why don't you take a nap, too?”
Marita eased herself to lying and closed her eyes. “Will you go ask that midwife if she can bring me something to eat? Put a blanket or robe over your shoulders before you carry him out there or you'll scare her. I need to dream up a name for our son.”
MARITA SLEPT IN SMALL spurts over the next few hours. Her fatigue was unrelenting, but the midwife ensured them that everything she was experiencing was normal. While she slept, Shan carried the baby around the suite or sat next to Marita and watched both of them sleep. He knew he needed to rest himself, but he was too enthralled with his tiny son to allow his insomnia to creep away into the darkness.
“Squeak! Squeak, squeak! Squeak!” Rayna called from her cage as a pink and orange sunrise bled into the bedroom. The baby was born just before midnight, and now the beauty of the Mordova Mountains would greet his first spring day.
“Shan?” Marita whispered, her eyes closed. She was on her side on the bed, the baby nursing on her as he dozed.
He reached across the baby to brush a stray auburn lock from her face. “Yes?”
“I wasn't going to ask you to do this, but I think it might help me figure out his name.”
“Do what?”
She opened one green eye and smiled. “See his aura. I want to know if he's magic-skilled.”
“And if he's not?” Shan asked.
“That might be a relief. For both of us.”
Shan shifted his perception to the shadows and examined his son's face and hands. Faint green wisps sparkled above the baby's skin. Shan returned his vision to the light and kissed Marita's lips. “He takes after his mom. Green witch.”
“Ohh...” Marita couldn't quite restrain her frown as she stroked the baby's hair.
“Don't be sad about that, Mar. I was worried that he'd be a warlock. The more like you he is, the better, especially when it comes to magic.”
Her hand relaxed and she closed her eye. “Can you put him in the bassinet and shut the curtains? You need to rest as much as I do, and I'm afraid one of us will roll onto him if he stays in the bed.”
“He'll be alone if he's in the bassinet.” Shan picked the baby up and kissed his head. He wanted to hold him more, but his tired hands trembled and his skin prickled from exhaustion. He worried his teetering strength would fail and he'd drop him if he tried to carry him around again.
“He'll be right next to me,” Marita mumbled. She sluggishly rolled onto her other side. “See? I can keep a hand on him, but he'll be safe in his own space. I'm certain I'll have a name for him the next time I wake.”
A FRANTIC FLAPPING of wings and an explosion of high-pitched squeaks accompanied the baby's wail.
“Okay, little boy. I'm coming,” Shan said, yawning. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, then wobbled to standing. He wasn't sure if he'd been sleep for twenty minutes or two hours. Neither was long enough.
Rubbing his blurred eyes, he staggered around the end of the bed. In the cage on the bureau, Rayna squealed and thrashed herself against the bars.
“What's going on with you?” Shan mumbled. He touched the cage bars only to receive a sharp nip on his finger. “Ouch! That wasn't nice, Rayna.”
The dragon replied with a strident shriek.
“What's gotten into you?” Shan shook his head and approached the fussing baby. The little boy's eyes were clamped shut as he desperately tried to shove his balled fist into his mouth. Shan picked him up and held him to his chest. Marita's side of the bed was empty. “Shh-shh-shh, it's okay. Mommy must have gone to the washroom. Let's go find her and ask what your name is, okay?”
He carried the baby out of the bedroom. The sounds of running water and snoring sat just beneath the baby's whimpering sobs. “Hey, hear that? I was right. Washroom. And that midwife of yours is snoring away in the spare room. You gave her a good surprise coming out so fast, didn't you?”
Behind him, Rayna shrieked again and rattled the cage bars with beating wings and scrambling claws. Shan paused at the closed restroom door and said, “I bet she's hungry, too. Baby dragons love to eat, maybe more than anything else.”
Shan adjusted the baby's weight against his chest and slowly opened the door. “Marita? He needs you.”
Only silence and the trickle of running water replied.
“Marita?”
And then he saw her, prone on the floor next to the overflowing sink. The silver and opal links of her bracelet—the bracelet he had infused with light to protect her and their baby—were scattered beside and beneath her.
He clutched the baby in one trembling arm and bent to touch her back. There was no movement within her chest.
Every bit of his body and mind exploding into panic, Shan screamed, “Marita! No! Jaylarae! Help!”
He couldn't breathe, cou
ldn't move, couldn't think. The snoring ended and bare feet padded on the tile floor.
“Move!” Jaylarae snapped. She slid across the wet floor to kneel at Marita's side.
Shan shifted onto his bottom and slid against the wall. His heart flapping as frantically as Rayla's wings, he rocked the baby.
“Did you find her like this?” The midwife rolled Marita onto her back and pressed one hand against her throat and the other over her heart.
“I . . . the baby woke me up. She wasn't in bed. Found her here.” No, no, no, not this. Shan's tears gathered and his lungs refused to draw air. The baby's sobbing intensified as his tiny hands grabbed at Shan's face.
Jaylarae crouched over Marita's face and pried open her eyelids. “You don't know when she got out of bed?”
Shan shook his head.
Jaylarae cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, then let out an agonized moan. “Shannon, I . . . I can't . . . I can't help her. She's already been gone too long. I'm so sorry.”
“Why?” Shan cried, and the baby wailed louder.
She turned off the water before kneeling next to him. “Honey, I don't know. She wasn't bleeding too much, so maybe a clot, or a stroke, or something went wrong with her heart. I can't tell you the reason right now. I need you to come out of this room now and come wait while I speak with your guards.”
“No. No, no, I can't leave her.” Shan's jaw clenched a little tighter with each squeaked breath. “She can't be dead. Can't be. She was fine, just tired. Why would she dead?”
Jaylarae pressed a hand on either side of Shan's face and kissed his forehead. “I don't know, Shannon. I'm so, so sorry.”
His tears flowed like a cataract and dripped upon the baby's head.
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