Rock, Paper, Shivers
Page 17
“But you’re not her,” he countered.
I frowned. “No, but I’m all we’ve got. Plus Marcos and the banshees.”
“That’s the other thing,” he sighed. “I think we should have killed Marcos. He was able to block you from calling the phantoms, and he tried to call them from you, even after he’d been captured.”
“And he failed,” I added.
“This time,” he argued.
I rolled onto my back, pulling away from him. “You really have no faith in me, do you?”
He turned and wrapped his arms around my ribcage, pulling me back toward him, then propped himself up so he could look at me. “Madeline, you are the only thing I have faith in.”
I smiled. “Then trust me on this.”
He leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on my lips, but seemed perplexed as he pulled away.
Suddenly worried, I asked, “What is it?”
He frowned. “I just realized you never told me what it was you were trying to hide from the key. Why you couldn’t say all that you needed to while it was still inside you.”
My heart warmed. “So you understood? I was hoping you would. It was so hard trying to leave without being able to explain.”
He gave me a tight squeeze. “I understood you couldn’t say certain things in front of the key, not what they were.”
I smiled, content in the fact that Alaric had known me well enough to understand what I’d been trying to convey. “The Morrigan and I were working with the key, with the intent of regrowing Yggdrasil.”
Alaric tensed, but didn’t speak.
“What the key didn’t understand, was that it would have to become a part of the tree again, and hence, a part of the earth. It would no longer be a sentient being.”
Alaric nodded in understanding. “So you wanted to keep the key in favor of your plan. If you’d told me you were going to regrow Yggdrasil, I would have questioned you, and you might have said the wrong thing.”
“Exactly,” I replied.
“But that doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t let me help you,” he countered. “I would have gone along, even without an explanation.”
I sighed. “That was the Morrigan’s side of the deal, that I needed to do things on my own. I couldn’t be distracted by wanting to keep you safe.”
“So you were shielding certain things from the Morrigan too,” he said.
I cringed.
He raised a dark eyebrow at me. “Or maybe you weren’t?”
I let out a long breath, preparing myself to be honest. “I agreed with her. I would have never been able to go around raising spirits from their graves if I was worried about you coming to harm.”
“And?” he pressed, knowing me too well to let the explanation drop at that.
“And,” I continued, “I needed to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. My entire life I’ve run from things. I’ve run from my past, from love, and even from you. I don’t want our daughter to ever feel like she can’t handle things on her own. I need to be a living example of that.”
Alaric laid a gentle kiss on my temple, then held me close. “Our daughter,” he mused. “I still can’t get used to it.”
I smiled. “So you forgive me for leaving you out of things?”
He chuckled. “There is nothing to forgive. It was always your choice to make, as much as I would have liked to fight against it.”
I smiled and relaxed into his embrace as I rubbed a hand across my belly. “I’m glad my daughter will have a father that won’t tell her she can’t do things on her own.”
His hand covered mine to feel the small bump underneath the fabric of my pajamas. “Oh I’ll try,” he joked, “but with the perfect role model of her mother around, I doubt I’ll have much luck.”
“So you’re fine with her being just like me?” I asked slyly.
He laughed. “I’m fine with her being whatever she wants, as long as she’s not too much like my sister.”
I jumped as the door to our room suddenly flew open to reveal Sophie, standing in the doorway with her hip cocked, and a bottle of champagne in her hand.
“That’s not very nice, brother,” she chided.
Mikael appeared in the doorway behind her with a paper shopping bag in each hand.
Sophie entered the room uninvited, then came to sit on the foot of our bed while Alaric and I moved to seated positions. Alaric let out a long sigh.
I combed my fingers through my hair to make sure I didn’t look like too much of a mess, but gave up. When people like Sophie and Mikael barged into your room, you had little choice but to go along with it. I raised an eyebrow at the bags in Mikael’s hands as he approached us.
“We’re never letting the Viking do the supply shopping again,” Sophie commented as Mikael set the bags on the bedside table. “It’s almost all booze,” she added, lifting the champagne bottle in her hand for emphasis.
“Well I for one think we deserve to celebrate,” Mikael teased, removing a bottle of whiskey from the bag, followed by a package of plastic cups.
He handed me the cups while Alaric glared at him, then produced another champagne bottle from the bag, handing it to me.
“Sparkling cider,” he explained, “for little Mikaela junior,” he added, gesturing to my belly.
“Hah hah,” I replied sarcastically, tearing open the plastic encasing the cups. “Where are Aila and the others?”
“Watching our new friend Marcos to make sure he doesn’t get any funny ideas,” Mikael explained as he pulled the corked top out of the whiskey.
I smirked. “Maybe we should invite him too. He might be nicer when he’s drunk.”
Alaric looked at me seriously, for once the only one in the conversation not joking.
I offered him a smile as I handed him the sparkling cider to uncork.
He rolled his eyes then smiled, giving in to the situation. He popped the cork into his hand, then took the cup I handed him to pour me a glass. After handing the filled cup and bottle back to me, he accepted a cup of champagne from Sophie. I scooted closer to Alaric and leaned against the headboard beside him. He put his arm around me obligingly, and I felt it as the tension drained from him.
Whiskey in hand, Mikael stood before us and raised his glass. “To traveling through time, cavorting with deities, getting possessed and unpossessed, and still coming out alive.”
I lifted my glass. “To the living, to the dead, and to fate herself.”
Alaric lifted his glass toward the center of the group, but his eyes were all for me as he said, “To Madeline, for being both strong and kind, light and dark, and everything in between, and to our daughter, who will not be named Mikaela.”
Sophie snorted at Alaric’s toast, then lifted her glass. “To family,” she said, encompassing both Alaric and I in her gaze, “and to friends, sort of,” she added, looking to Mikael, who accepted the inclusion with a slight bow, “and to James,” she sighed, “may he find peace in death, even if he doesn’t deserve it.”
We all touched the rims of our glasses, then took a sip. Well, Mikael took more than a sip, then poured himself another glass.
I snuggled closer to Alaric and placed a hand on my belly, enjoying the simple moment. I felt like I’d quite literally been through hell and back, and maybe, just maybe, I was better for the experience.
It was odd to think about how my life had been before, living alone in my little house, avoiding close relationships. Avoiding life. Now I not only had friends, but I had a true partner in Alaric, and eventually we would have a daughter.
What were a few unparalleled forces of nature to contend with, when you had rewards like those?
Dear reader, I hope you enjoyed the third installment in the Bitter Ashes series! The fourth installment can be found here:
Duck, Duck, Noose
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Sara C. Roethle, Rock, Paper, Shivers