The Queen and the Tower

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The Queen and the Tower Page 20

by Shannon Page


  And yet the odd feeling persisted.

  I went into the living room and sat on the couch, my hand still on my belly. The warm sensation I’d noticed a week or so ago, at Logan’s apartment…it was still (or again) there, though more subtle than before. And now that I thought about it, my breasts were sensitive. Had been so for several days.

  No! Not possible.

  “Elnor!” I called. My familiar came to sit in my lap. I scritched her ears and waited for her to settle. I should probably have done this in my circle upstairs, but I could do a simple scan here. Maybe I just had a touch of the flu.

  A breast-hurting flu?

  No!

  Once Elnor was open to our working, I started the process of clearing my mental decks, noticing and letting go of irrelevancies and distractions before focusing on what I was looking for. I led my consciousness downward, releasing my surroundings, dropping into a light trance. I focused my awareness inward, settling into my own skin, my muscles, blood, and bones. I envisioned myself as one of my own tiny homunculi, coursing through my veins, taking note of everything I saw—down to my toes, to the back of my right shoulder, to the ends of my hair. Elnor’s feline-huntress energy joined mine as we traveled.

  Releasing the extremities, I ventured further inward, continuing the process of centering. To the middle of my body. Noticing and setting aside its normal functions. The crackers I just ate, breaking down in my stomach. The water I drank, absorbing into my tissues, hydrating me. Enzymes and hormones doing their work.

  Hormones…

  I focused, focused, focused. My ovaries, with their lifetime supply of eggs, ready to be deployed. My Fallopian tubes, an open channel, leading to…my uterus.

  My womb felt full, rich with blood, active and warm. Was I about to have a period? I was at least as regular as most witches—which is to say, not tremendously so. Four or five times a year, maybe.

  Was that what my uterus was busy with? That would explain sore breasts.

  I waited, focusing. Listening. Was there a second spirit there, a second set of energies?

  Don’t lead the witness, I told myself, with an internal laugh. It’s so easy to project, when you think you know the answer. So hard to wait, and listen, and not decide.

  I heard a second heartbeat.

  I gave a sharp gasp—not surprised, exactly, since this was just what I’d been listening for, but astonished. Because this was so, so impossible.

  And now there was too much noise in my mind to hear anything. I tried calming myself once more, but gave up after another minute. Elnor had started fidgeting as well, reflecting my own emotional turmoil.

  I had to get a second opinion. Actually, I had to get a qualified first opinion. And with the healers busy…

  Mother? I sent to Leonora. Are you busy at the moment?

  I am always occupied, but you may come.

  Five minutes later, I was at the door of her office in the coven house.

  “Let us find a quieter place,” she said, after a glance at me. I don’t know how much she was reading off my face and body language versus what she was detecting magically, but she clearly understood this wasn’t a casual visit.

  We climbed the back stairs and went into a seldom-used parlor on the second floor, beyond the classrooms. Formerly a bedroom, this room was small and oddly shaped, stretching around the southeastern corner of the building and furnished with mismatched chairs, an ugly sideboard, and a coffee table stained decades ago by a spilled potion.

  This room, far from the rest of the house’s common areas, was our place for private talks. If this door was closed, everyone understood why.

  The air smelled musty, unbreathed for some time. I wished I’d brought Elnor, but she’d been too unsettled, so I’d left her home.

  Leonora sat in a straight-backed wooden chair; I chose a flowered overstuffed chair with a small tear on the right arm. I tucked my legs up under me and looked at her.

  “Can you tell if I’m pregnant?”

  My coven mother gazed at me. “Very likely. Do you have reason to believe you are?”

  “Yeah…I kind of do. I think.”

  “I thought I noticed a disruption in your energy. I was unaware, however, that you were attempting such a thing.”

  “I wasn’t. It was a complete accident.”

  “Witches do not get pregnant accidentally.”

  I shifted in the chair. “I know! But…I can sense something, there. And my breasts are sore, and most food is unappealing.”

  She studied me another long moment, then raised both hands. “Sit very still, but also relaxed. Is that position comfortable?”

  “Yes.”

  Tendrils of her magic surrounded me, then searched within. It was not unpleasant—it could be, if I resisted, but of course, I’d asked for this. I wanted to know.

  I waited, feeling her intention following the paths I’d followed at home. I felt her come to the same conclusion.

  She lowered her arms and sat back in her chair. “Well. I do believe you are with child, Calendula Isadora.”

  I sighed, my hand going automatically to my belly. “Wow.”

  “By Gregorio’s son, I take it?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  “Does he know?”

  “No—I came to you first. And, like I said, I wasn’t trying! I had no idea this was possible.”

  She frowned. “It shouldn’t be. But your line is more prolific than most.”

  “I’ve only had sex with him a few times! And I was never even thinking about a daughter.”

  “Perhaps not consciously…” She trailed off. “Well, be that as it may, the solution is simple enough.”

  I felt unaccountably relieved. This was why we joined covens. The wisdom and experience of our elders.

  She nodded, still with a small frown on her face. “And it were probably best done quickly,” she went on. “I see no reason to inform the warlock, or his father.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Yes,” she said, more decisively. “I believe we have all the required herbs here in the house. We can begin at once.”

  “The herbs?” My stomach clutched in fear.

  Leonora looked at me gently. “For the miscarriage. You can, of course, terminate the pregnancy by your own power, but I believe that is needlessly taxing, and could cause damage that would come to haunt you later.”

  “No.” I got to my feet and started backing toward the door, without even realizing I had done so. “No, no miscarriage! What are you talking about?”

  She got up as well and took a step toward me, arms raised in supplication. “Calendula, please, sit down.”

  “But—but this is crazy!”

  “The whole thing is crazy. You are not even in a union with the warlock; there has been no provision for children. And, more importantly, you are blood-sworn to this coven. These things are planned years in advance, not leapt into willy-nilly. I do not even know if any members of the Artemis Guild are available to step in to take your place.” She put a gentle hand on my arm and drew me back to my chair. “Calendula, you know that all major decisions must come through me—daughters particularly. If it even is a daughter—if you had no conscious control over the conception, it could very well be a son!”

  I trembled, but took my seat again. “It feels…female to me.”

  She sat back down too. “I believe so as well.” Then she leaned forward, holding my gaze. “Did I not warn you about undertaking anything of importance during this period of mourning?”

  I nodded.

  “And during the waning moon, at that!” she went on. “I am sorry, but this daughter really should not be allowed to enter our world. We have no idea what her nature might be; such a spirit could have come from anywhere. She could have some very malevolent designs. Something is very, very wrong here. Calendula Isadora, think about it.”

  “That’s just the problem! I haven’t had a chance to think about it. I… suspected I was pregnant, and I came straight her
e to ask you about it—and you just want to kill her!” My hand strayed to my belly once more. I’m sure it was my imagination—impossible, for just a tiny bundle of cells—but I thought I felt an answering tremble under my fingertips. “She can’t be bad—I would feel it. You can’t make me kill her.”

  “As a matter of fact, I can.” Her voice softened. “But I will not. Take some time, then; clearly this is very overwhelming, particularly with everything else that’s happened to you recently. I am sure that, once you think it through, you will see the truth of my words. We can speak about this again in a few days. That will be soon enough.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” I said, quietly. “I appreciate the time.”

  “I will advise you, however, not to speak to the warlock about it,” she said. “That will only muddy the waters, and create confusion. If you do decide you want to establish a union—with him, or any other warlock—you are welcome to do so. You will have plenty of opportunities to have a daughter; perhaps even more than one, if you so choose. But this is no way to go about it. I knew I should never have let you move to that house.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Mother. But I do think I ought to tell him.”

  “Why?”

  “Just…it seems fair? She’s his daughter too.”

  “He’s not likely to be even as understanding as I am,” she said with a wry smile. “He will feel deceived, ill-used.”

  Would he? Or would he understand that it had been a bizarre accident? I wished Logan were still here to talk to. Now that she was gone, Jeremy was the only person who seemed to understand me. Well, maybe Sebastian too; but this was hardly his business. Wouldn’t Jeremy want us to solve this problem together?

  “You’re not going to make me move back here, are you?” I asked.

  She paused a moment, considering. “No, I will not have you moping around our congenial home like a prisoner. You clearly need additional time to explore your independence, and I will grant you that.”

  Even though it was what I wanted, the way she put it, well, it sort of soured it. The familiar Greek chorus of Logan’s words echoed in my mind yet again: Leonora did treat us all as children.

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “So go and do your thinking, and we shall talk again in a few days. We will need to take action soon, before it quickens.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. It.

  Not that I was going to argue the point with Leonora. “Yes, Mother,” I said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  She gave a genuinely warm smile. “Of course, daughter. I know this must be a terribly hard passage. Do not think me unsympathetic.” She got to her feet, her heavy robes rustling at her ankles. “I am glad you came to me first.”

  Am I? I wondered.

  — CHAPTER FOURTEEN —

  I opened the front door and let Jeremy in. “I am so sorry, my dear,” he said at once. “I know how this must seem, but truly, it’s been absolute chaos and I haven’t had a moment to get away. I understand that you came by the clinic the other day, and I know how much you want to help, but you must know—”

  “It’s not that,” I said. “Come in. Sit down, I have something to tell you.”

  He followed me to the couch, looking bemused, as well he might, after my no doubt irrational-sounding demand to see him as soon as possible.

  “Well?” he prompted, after a silence that had dragged on a minute or so.

  “Yeah. I, um.”

  He reached over and caressed my knee. “Whatever it is, I am certain it will be all right.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right.” I took a deep breath and blurted, “I’m pregnant.”

  He blinked at me, staring blankly, as though I’d uttered a string of gibberish. He opened his mouth. “Er.” Then he seemed to almost willfully recover, leaning forward to pull me into his arms. “Calendula! That is marvelous news!” He kissed me firmly on the forehead, then drew back to look into my eyes. “Just…newly?”

  Okay, it was a fair question. Sort of. He knew I hadn’t been seeing any other warlocks. Didn’t he? “Yes.”

  He nodded. “I knew there was a powerful energy between us. It’s…” He trailed off, as if searching for words. “I confess I am rather… baffled, though. This is a large and, frankly, stunning decision. I might have thought you would—”

  “It wasn’t a decision. I wasn’t trying.”

  He looked back at me again, even more blankly than before.

  “It just happened,” I went on. “I don’t know how.”

  “I…did not know that was possible.”

  “Neither did I.”

  More blankness. “You’re quite sure?”

  “One hundred percent.” I patted my belly.

  “Hmm.” After another long moment, he gave his head a little shake, and then brightened. “Well! All right then. I shall get my father’s advisors working at once on the terms of the contract. Not to worry.”

  “I…” Contract?

  “Should we be working with Leonora’s representatives, or with those of your birth parents? I confess, the more time I spend here, the less I feel I understand the local customs.”

  I found my voice at last. “I’m flattered, Jeremy, but really, there’s no need—I’m sworn to my coven, you know, and…” I watched his face, flustered. He looked very confused.

  “You do not wish a contract with me? You…will be terminating the child?” He glanced down at my belly, as though there was something to see there. Besides my hand.

  “No! I don’t know, but not that. It’s all happened so fast. I don’t know what I want.”

  He frowned. “Well…you may be sworn to your coven, but as far as I understand, coven witches do not bear children. Even here. Children happen in unions. That’s what the Artemis Guild is for—when witches take leaves of absence.”

  That doesn’t make it a biological imperative! I thought. And there he was, warlocksplaining again. But, well, he wasn’t wrong. About the custom, that was. “I do want you in my life, and in her life. But I don’t even know if I can sign a contract right now.”

  His face softened, and with it his tone. “Anything is possible, if you want it.”

  “I…don’t know what I want.”

  He smiled tenderly. “Callie, given the circumstances, I feel that I must say this: I hold you in very high regard, and no one can deny the energy between us. Though our courtship has been unusually abbreviated, I believe it is clear that we are quite compatible, in bed and out of it.” He put a gentle hand on my belly, next to my own hand, as his smile grew. “I also recognize that you are young, and do not understand everything about how things are done, but you must know that no witch honors a warlock thusly without feeling quite serious about him.”

  I looked back at him, my emotions in a tangle. He wanted a union with me? (Or was he just bending to custom?) He wasn’t angry, at least. That was good. But he clearly didn’t believe me, that it was unintended. And did he have to be such a patronizing jerk about—well, everything? I wasn’t that young! “I really, truly didn’t plan this,” I said. “I’m still not quite sure how it happened. I’m not making that up.”

  His smile started to look a little frozen, as his puzzlement warred with it.

  “I mean, I do care about you too, of course,” I went on. “I care about you a lot; we are good together. I let myself get swept away, and I must have lost control, without realizing it.” I mingled my fingers with his over my belly. “And she’s amazing, I can already tell. She’s something you and I did together. I’ve never met anyone like you. But, it’s kind of all too fast for my brain and my emotions to catch up with. You know? With everything that’s happened in my life lately…” I waved a hand vaguely; he nodded. “Does that make sense?”

  “Of course it does, my dear. I should not have pressed. But I was, as I said, quite surprised.” He leaned forward once more and pulled me into his strong arms. “I am sure, once the shock has worn off for both of us, our path will be clear and sim
ple.”

  I relaxed into his embrace, letting him distract me with passion once more. He was awfully good at it.

  But later, much later, as I lay alone in my bed (he had offered to stay, but I’d pleaded exhaustion, and a need to think things over), I thought about…her.

  About my daughter, growing within me.

  She was mine…no, she was herself—her own self. Even if I had no idea what her personality was, what her strengths might be, what color her eyes and hair would be—anything about her—those things were already there, becoming her.

  And yet to the rest of the world, she wasn’t a person. She was a complication, a message, an opportunity, a scheduling problem, a breach of protocol. The tangible result of an alliance between two strong families…an asset. A challenge to the integrity of a powerful coven.

  Even, perhaps, a threat.

  How screwed up was it that the first two people I’d brought my news to had assumed they were in charge of it? That they owned—well, her. And, by extension, me.

  Leonora could, if she chose, reach into my womb with powerful magic and crush the growing life there. I didn’t think she would actually do that, she had said she wouldn’t…but I didn’t know that for sure, did I?

  Could Jeremy—or Gregorio—force me into a union against my will?

  Did I not want a union just because Jeremy had blithely assumed that I would? I was, in fact, quite taken with him. And unions didn’t have to be monogamous—that was just another detail to put in the contract, or not.

  But it was way too soon! Blessed Mother, I’d known the warlock, what, two months? And for much of that time, he’d been courting my best friend, with me cheering along on the sidelines. I’d only been intimate with him a few weeks—this was all just completely absurd. You don’t make even a twenty-year commitment after such a whirlwind romance; more typical durations were thirty or forty years.

 

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