Starfall

by Michael Griffo

  “I know what you’re thinking, that without the child the triangle will be broken,” Luba says. “But what you might not realize is that I’m not as power-hungry as my granddaughter. I have enough magic in my bones to overcome even the bitterest of disappointments.”

  Is this what all you sick people call balance?! I turn to Vera, who is looking through us like she’s no longer interested. Help me! Help me figure out if Luba’s telling the truth or bluffing. The only thing I can hear is my mother’s voice.

  Remember, Dominy, you are blessed.

  With a conscience! Which is something I don’t need right now. How can I condemn an innocent child to death in order to bring my mother back to life? Even if Luba is bluffing, there’s no way for me to know that until it’s too late. The only thing I know for certain is that if she brings my mother back to life and a child dies as a result, I’ll never forgive myself. I can hardly deal with the fact that I had to give in to Rayna’s request and kill her and that I jump-started Miss Ro’s death; I can’t . . . No. No!! I simply cannot have another death on my head.

  “Leave . . . my mother alone,” I whisper. “Just let her sleep.”

  “As you wish,” Luba replies, not even hiding the fact that she’s incredibly satisfied.

  “You just remember what you agreed to, Luba,” Vera reminds her. “One of the children will be given to Orion.”

  “And both children will live,” I add.

  Luba bows theatrically, bending her head so far over her knees that her hair covers her face entirely. From behind the black curtain, she whispers, “And you should both remember that Luba always wins.”

  Before she even stands up, the moment has come for her to claim victory. A scream penetrates the memory with such ferocity that the past is obliterated and we’re thrust back to the present, right in the middle of the Jaffe living room, right where Nadine has fallen to the floor in agony, kneeling in a pool of water, both hands clutched around her belly that is still swollen, but now appears to be vibrating.

  “How opportune,” Luba gushes. “It looks like my granddaughter is about to give birth.”

  Chapter 23

  Sometimes being a witch has its benefits.

  While Nadine was still in mid-scream, all of us—Luba, Vera, Nadine, me, and Melinda—joined hands and instantly vanished from the Jaffe house to take yet another journey. This trip was noisy, but thankfully, short, and no one except me was surprised by our final destination.

  “Why did we come to The Retreat?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we have gone to Memorial Hospital?”

  Pushing Nadine through the front door that Winston is holding open, Luba snipes over her shoulder, “We have our own way of doing things.”

  Once inside I immediately look over to the receptionist’s desk and see Elkie staring at us. She is hardly startled by the screaming pregnant girl and her motley entourage; if anything, she looks as if she’s been expecting us.

  “Get the operating room ready!” Winston bellows, trying to sound authoritative, but coming off as merely anxious.

  “Already done, Mr. Lundgarden,” Elkie replies, with an aura of efficiency. “And now that you’re all here, I’ve set the alarm.”

  “Good, then you can go!”

  This time the voice is much more authoritative because it doesn’t belong to Winston, but to Melinda. Elkie pauses a moment just to prove that she isn’t following orders, but is merely ready to leave now that she’s performed all her duties. As she walks by me, she whispers in my ear, “Don’t forget there’s a full moon tonight.”

  When I pause before responding it’s not because I want to make sure Elkie makes it safely outside; it’s only because I had totally forgotten! After my fiasco last year with a BM—Blue Moon—and the calendar I made for Caleb and me before he went to college, I can’t believe I still forgot. I know I have a lot on my mind and things have been moving at warp speed lately, but that’s no excuse. How am I going to make sure Nadine’s twins are safe if I transform? This better be the quickest delivery in reproductive history!

  “Ahhhh!!!!!” Nadine shrieks. “Hurry up! They’re coming!!”

  Sounds like I may get my wish. Melinda, however, isn’t quite sure what she heard.

  “What do you mean they’re coming?” she asks.

  It’s lucky for Melinda that Winston is holding Nadine on one side and Luba is holding her on the other, because Nadine lurches forward as if she’d like to strike her mother with the full force of her power. “I’m having twins, you idiot!”

  “Twins?!” Melinda shouts.

  Ten, nine, eight, by the time I count down to seven, surprise has turned to fear. “Luba, did you know about this?”

  Snorting smugly, Luba replies, “Why do you think I’m allowing her to be here?”

  Everyone’s head snaps toward me. I guess they’ve all come to know me as Unwanted Guest #1. Group thought isn’t always effective or correct.

  “Not her!” Luba scolds. “The other intruder.”

  Turning around, I see Vera, who’s appeared in physical form for the first time since we arrived at The Retreat, carrying two balloons, one blue, one pink.

  “I don’t know about y’all,” she says, “but I’m hoping for one of each.”

  She may not be human, but she does have a sense of humor. Unfortunately, Nadine doesn’t find Vera or her comment humorous. On the contrary, she knows that if Vera’s around, that can only mean she’s in trouble.

  “Get . . . her . . . OUT OF HERE!!”

  “Nadine, what are you getting so upset about?” her mother asks. “She’s nothing.”

  Struggling violently to break free from Winston and Luba, Nadine is so terrified by the possibilities of what Vera’s presence means that she’s forgotten to use her powers. She’s turned back into what she was when she entered this world, just another helpless child. Well, this child is about to bring two more into the world, and through the window I can see the sky starting to darken, so she better do it soon or else she’s going to have a wolf next to the stargirl in the delivery room. I can’t imagine that will sit well with Nadine.

  “Don’t be a fool, Mother!!” Nadine wails. “Don’t you know what she is?!”

  “No! No, I don’t!” Melinda replies. “Luba, what the hell is going on?!”

  Now Luba and Winston are practically dragging Nadine down The Hallway to Nowhere, with the rest of us following close behind. We turn the corner on the right, and I see a brightly lit room at the end of the corridor that must be the delivery room. Nadine comes to the same conclusion as I do.

  “No!!! Don’t let her in there with me!”

  “Luba!” Melinda shouts over her daughter’s continued screaming. “Who is she?!”

  “Not who, Melinda, what!” Luba states. “Orion has sent one of His minions to check up on us.”

  Melinda literally does a double take, but still can’t quite believe that the girl she’s staring at is connected in any way to Orion, the god her family worships. Vera must sense Melinda’s doubt, because the next thing she does is rip the flesh mask off her face to reveal a floating orb of starlight.

  “Now do you believe it?” Vera asks.

  Stumbling backward, Melinda slams into the open door to the delivery room and stares dumbfounded at the starlight where Vera’s head used to be as the rest of us pile into the room. The light jutting out from Vera’s body is blinding, and until she puts her face back on, no one can see a thing. Temporary blindness is doing nothing to calm Nadine’s nerves, and the moment they try to strap her onto the operating table, she slaps Winston in the face with the back of her hand and runs for the door. Before she can reach it both Vera and Luba raise their hands, and the door to the room slams shut.

  Sobbing, Nadine bangs on the door. “Let me out! Someone, please!! Let me out!!”

  I have to look away because I don’t want to feel pity for her. I know what she’s capable of; I know what she’s done. I know what they’re doing to her now isn’t right, but it is fair and
just. And it’s the only thing we can do to prevent her from becoming even more evil than she already is. When I look back I don’t expect to actually want to help Nadine.

  Obviously, Luba wants this delivery over as quickly as I do, but whereas I’m willing to let nature take its course, Luba has never been one to succumb to greater forces. She reaches out with her right fist and then pulls it close to her chest. With a thud Nadine falls to the ground.

  “Let go of me!” she cries.

  Luba repeats the movement with her left hand, and Nadine starts to slide across the floor, frantically grasping at the air and the linoleum to try to stop herself from moving, all the while flailing and kicking and digging the heels of her white sneakers into the floor, so the squeaking noise mixes in with her screams.

  Another movement of Luba’s hands brings Nadine closer to her fate, but she isn’t about to stop trying to break free. I flinch when Nadine twists onto her stomach. I reel back when she stares at me and mouths the words, “Help me.” It’s exactly what I needed to be reminded that Nadine is getting exactly what she deserves; those are the exact same words Napoleon mouthed to me last year. I couldn’t help him, but I can help the children who will never be able to call him uncle. Thanks to the girl standing next to me.

  “Stop struggling, Nadine,” Vera says. “You know it’s futile to go against the Master’s plan.”

  I don’t have to look at Luba to know that she’s raising her arms, because Nadine starts to rise off the ground and float toward the operating table.

  “This isn’t the Master’s plan!” Nadine screams. “It’s yours!”

  “No, child,” Luba corrects. “It’s mine.”

  For the first time since we’ve arrived at The Retreat, Nadine is quiet, not because she’s at peace, but because she’s been stunned into silence. Yes, Nadine, this is what it feels like to be betrayed; this is what it feels like to know that someone you thought loved you has turned against you; this is what it feels like to have your entire world destroyed. Enjoy the feeling!

  “After everything I’ve done for you, Grandmother,” Nadine starts, “you’re going to betray me?”

  Luba opens her mouth to respond, but no words emerge, only four blasts of black smoke that whip out of her and around Nadine’s wrists and ankles. Once her granddaughter is strapped to the table, Luba finally speaks.

  “Isn’t that what you were going to do to me?” Luba asks.

  Nadine’s defiant expression speaks louder than any reply, and we all know what her intentions were. Luba leans in close to Nadine and whispers, “Now, child, the time has come for you to learn your true place in this world.”

  Those are the last words Nadine hears before passing out.

  Glancing outside, I see that the sky is becoming completely dark; I don’t have much more time left. I can see the full moon slightly visible in the dusk, and I can feel the wolf spirit begin to stir deep inside of me. Could it be possible that just for tonight I could keep the animal at bay? Why not! He’s been brought out in the light before, which is against the rules, so why can’t he stay hidden during a full moon?

  “It’s time,” Vera announces.

  No! I can’t transform yet! The girl has to stay; the girl has to be the one to protect these children! I don’t trust any of these people!

  “The first child is coming!” Luba shouts.

  Nadine might not be conscious, but she’s clearly in pain. Her face is contorted into a grimace, and it’s covered in sweat. Her chest is heaving up and down like she’s having difficulty breathing, and her wrists and ankles are twisting and turning, trying to break free from Luba’s smoke cuffs.

  “Winston, hold her steady!” Luba commands.

  The Cell Keeper tries, but it’s as if he’s afraid of touching Nadine, like he’s finally realized that the Jaffes are contaminated, and he doesn’t want to risk an infection. Too late, fool!

  “I . . . I c-can’t,” he stammers. “She won’t stop m-moving.”

  “My God, you are such an imbecile!” Melinda cries out in disgust.

  Pushing her lover out of the way, Melinda positions herself behind Nadine and places Nadine’s head in between her hands. Nadine must know that her mother is holding her because her movements become even more agitated.

  As Melinda leans in close to her daughter, I have to turn on my wolf-hearing to eavesdrop. It serves me right to listen in on someone else’s private conversation.

  “Remember, Nadine,” Melinda whispers, “you are blessed.”

  No! She’s stealing my mother’s words; she’s trying to be like her! Melinda will never be like my mother! She’ll never be anything like her!

  I feel a warmth on my shoulder, and for a fleeting moment I think that Jess has arrived to help ease the pain, but the light burrowing into my skin is silver, not golden. Vera smiles at me, not like a mother, but like a friend. I don’t know why, but I know that even though I may not be able to trust everyone in the room, I can trust her. Even though she’s Orion’s offspring, she has truly come here to help me.

  “Soon it will all be over,” Vera says, just before turning her attention to the patient. “I can see the baby’s crown.”

  Then, at the same time, Vera and Luba whisper, “Push.”

  Two streams of smoke—one silver, one black—twirl together to combine, to become one, and grow so large that they practically consume Nadine’s body. Slowly the smoke cloud begins to dissipate, and Nadine is reacting as if her body is on fire.

  I’m so focused on watching Luba and Vera deliver Nadine’s children that I don’t feel my cell phone vibrating in my back pocket until the second time. Looking at my phone I see that Arla wants to know where I am and if I’m safe since the moon is about to make its monthly appearance.

  Quickly, I text her that I’m at The Retreat and that Nadine is about to give birth. By the time I put the phone away, her first child is born.

  “It’s a boy,” Luba pronounces proudly.

  The newborn wails loudly, could be happy to be alive, could be furious to be part of this family, but he sounds healthy and strong and resilient. Luba places the child on a cloud of black smoke where he continues to gurgle and cry, but he’s alive. So far Luba is holding to her promise.

  The silver-black smoke thickens again, writhing and undulating all around Nadine’s body until finally it disappears completely. Its job is done; the second child has been born.

  “It’s a girl,” Vera announces, placing her on a cloud of smoke next to her brother.

  I watch the two babies, only seconds old, coo and wiggle, as they acclimate to their new surroundings. Instinctively, their tiny hands reach out to feel the other’s fingers, reconnect, resume the connection that they had only moments ago in the womb. A connection that is about to be severed forever.

  Without looking at the children or Vera, Luba states, “Take one of them and leave.”

  “No,” Vera replies.

  What do you mean “no”?! That’s the whole reason you’re here; that’s the whole reason I’m here! I can feel the fire start to pulse through my veins and the pain begin to enter my limbs. Outside the full moon has risen; inside I’m faced with another turning point.

  “I said choose one child and then leave here for good!” Luba cries.

  “It isn’t my decision,” Vera replies. “It’s Dominy’s.”

  “What?!” I hear myself shriek in a voice that’s dangerously close to a howl. “Why is it mine?”

  “In order for true balance on earth to be restored, it must be maintained by one who was born here,” Vera explains. “I was not, and Orion doesn’t trust Luba to issue a mandate that she won’t benefit from. Only you can make this decision, Dominy, because only you will decide what is best for the children.”

  If I had more time to dwell on the conflicting rush of emotions bouncing inside my head and my heart and my soul, I probably would, but I don’t. The full moon is casting a glow on me that I can’t ignore; I’ll soon be under its command, and the
n I won’t be able to make any decisions. I have to act, and I have to act now. And the only way to decide is to trust my instincts.

  I look at the boy and then the girl, and both of them have the mark of Orion, three stars just above their hips. Except for their gender the children are identical, until I see another marking on the boy’s foot. It’s almost invisible, but my wolf’s vision can see that he bears another birthmark, this one in the shape of a golden sun, this one a gift from my friend. This small imperfection on the boy’s skin is a message from Jess showing me that he will remain protected by the spirit of the Omikami while being raised by Nadine. Once again and maybe for the last time, Jess has crossed dimensions to help me, to guide me when I need her most.

  Crying for myself and for the baby girl that I’m holding, I offer the child to Vera. Just as she takes the girl, the transformation overwhelms me, and I crash to the floor. I can hear Winston screaming in the distance, so I know that I’m changing before their eyes. Despite the pain, I’ve got to reach out once more to Vera before she vanishes with Nadine’s daughter! She must hear me.

  “Please . . . protect . . . her!”

  I don’t know if I’m hearing Vera’s words or if I’m listening to her thoughts, but she promises me that she will. She also promises me that I will be repaid for restoring balance and carrying out Orion’s wishes. I don’t care about any of that right now; I just want to get out of here. A hospital room is no place for a wolf.

  Luba couldn’t agree more.

  “Listen to me, animal,” she silently speaks. “Get out of here. Get out of here now before I forget that we have a truce!”

  Trust me, Luba, you’ll never forget! Just like Jess will never let that child be harmed!

  Outside I gulp down the air, and it tastes as sweet as the freshest carcass. I’m about to run off to lose myself in Robin’s Park when two smells wrap themselves around my snout; the scents are dissimilar, but both are familiar. One is alive and luscious and vigorous, and the other is decaying and bitter and harsh. I lift my head, and in the distance I see two humans whose faces I instantly recognize.