"A Cold Spring:-Episodes 21 and 22
If you want to read the whole story so far, Follow this link to Episodes 1-20
Episode21: Unexpected
Discarding the light blanket Mayebelle has wrapped aroundme, I scrabble in the spring-damp mold of the forest floor. Pain in mymidsection redoubles, but I crawl to the edge of the road and use a handy rowansapling to hoist myself up.
“Maddock!” I would have run to him, but little Priscillaor Madeleine or Jane will not be ignored.
A contraction tightens like a band of iron across mystomach. The figure on the path is running now. Running toward us. My wombconvulses, and I’m sure I’m about to die. Mayebelle pulls me back to the warmthof the makeshift pallet of leaves and spare clothes and pushes me on my back.
“It’s real, isn’t it, Mayebelle?” I can’t see past hersolid form and a nagging fear whispers to me, telling me the castle and Maddockare wishful visions only. “It has to be real this time.”
Mayebelle glances over her shoulder. When she turnstoward me, her face is in shadow. “It’s real, my dear, but what it means Icannot guess.”
Through insistent pain, I vaguely feel his steps vibratethrough the rocky ground, vaguely hear his voice.
“What’s wrong? Mayebelle, what’s wrong with her?” Hisvoice sounds so real but I keep my eyes closed tight, convinced he willdissolve into nothing if I open them.
“She’s having a child, you fool.” Mayebelle hikes myskirt and splays my legs apart, peering at my groin. “Right now, by the look ofit.”
A warm hand grasps mine. Solid arms support me. My eyes spring open with his touch. I trace theline of his jaw, the curve of his lips. A quizzical expression on his face, he snapshis gaze from Mayebelle to me.
“How did this happen?”
Mayebelle glares at him with her one good eye. “What anidiotic thing to say.”
She returns to her perusal of my privates and shifts mypelvis into a different configuration. Aching, gnawing pain in my abdomenredoubles and the pressure on my nether regions becomes nearly unbearable. Isqueeze Maddock’s hand.
“Where have you been? Where is Lucia?” I gasp out thequestions. The intervals between contractions diminish to nothing. “She mustn’tget little Ruth or Mary or Esther.”
His La Croix eyes flash. “That will not happen.”
A contraction draws me upright, but my cries are more offrustration than pain.
“No time for news, dear. This baby is most insistent tobe born.” Maybelle pats the inside of my leg encouragingly. “A few good pushesand we’re finished.”
She snaps at Maddock. “Stop gaping like an overripe fish.Sit behind her, brace her back.”
“We need to join the others. Our strength is in numbers.”Maddock sits behind me, stretching his legs on either side, wrapping warm armsaround me. “How long is this going to take?”
“Don’t be anidiot. Do as you’re told.” Mayebelle straightens the blanket beneath my hipsand lays a steady hand on my tummy. “Push, dear.”
As if she has to tell me. Birth is on automatic pilot atthis point. All I know is that Maddock’s arms support me, Maddock’s lipswhisper encouragement, Maddock’s heart beats against my back.
One––
Two––
Three grinding pushes and the baby slips into Mayebelle’swaiting hands. Mayebelle swaddles the wriggling child with a soft cotton toweland lays her on my chest.
Maddock and I look at her for the first time. Little armsand legs stretch, free at last. A sheaf of hair, tawny and wet, lies plasteredon her oval crown. She sneezes, expelling the last of the amniotic fluid. Tinyfingers curl around Maddock’s thumb and milky blue eyes, strangely alert forsuch a tiny child, blink in her damp, red face. I lean back in Maddock’s arms, spent butelated.
“I’ve only beengone a few minutes, Allium,” he whispers. “Just a few short minutes.”
Episode22: A Vial of Time
Mayebelle finishes her midwife duties with precision andskill. A few minutes later, I am warm and dry and contented though I can barelyraise my hand above the coverlet. The baby emits a series of shrieks,protesting the cold air and the outrage of being pulled from one world toanother.
“What a lot of noise and bother for such a little thing.”Maddock holds the baby in both arms, careful to support her head, careful to keepthe blanket snug around her. Her cries soften as he gently rocks her to andfro.
“Impressive how well you do that right out of the gate.” Iam entirely exhausted and afraid to move for fear my muscles will refuse eventhe slightest request.
“I’ve held babies before.” He plants a soft kiss on ourchild’s forehead. “Never one as beautiful as this one, of course.”
“Where have you been, Maddock?”
Stirred from his reverie, he scans the valley, theforest, the sky. He hands the baby to Mayebelle. “We must be on our way back to the others. Noone should be alone. Can you walk?”
As it turns out, I can’t. The long journey, not tomention eight months of fear and longing have taken their toll. “I’m afraid Ican’t even stand up.”
“Never mind, then. “Maddock lifts me into his arms. Myhead fits perfectly into the spot just below his collar bone and I decide thisis infinitely preferable to walking.
“Don’t bother gathering these things, Mayebelle. We’vealready lingered too long on our own.” Maddock strides surely down the slope.Mayebelle brings up the rear with the baby and our hastily gathered kit.
The sun, well above the mountains by now, beams betweenstill-bare branches of oak and sycamore but beneath the pines dappled shadowsplay across our path. A fresh cool breeze ruffles my hair. Not a cloud darkensthe cobalt blue sky, but a dark foreboding gnaws.
“If you don’t tell me what happened, I’m going toexplode. Where have you been? Where is Lucia?” A delicious odor wafts up thehill. I lift my head from its resting place on Maddock’s chest. A rumble in my stomach reminds me I haven’teaten anything in uncounted hours. “And what is that delectable smell?”
Spirals of smoke rise from the ruined castle in thecenter of Highmoor Valley. Smaller fires, kindled by Darkmore and La Croixwedding guests, burn along the riverbank. The smell of food lifts on the springbreeze along with the murmur of conversation and the occasional shrill laugh. Roastbeef. I definitely smell roast beef. After days of eating nothing but oatmealscones, my mouth waters and my stomach gurgles.
“Never let attempted murder and a burned castle ruin agood party. That’s the La Croix motto.” Maddock slows his pace a fraction. “Mystory is brief. I used a time crystal.”
Mayebelle walks close behind us. I peek at her overMaddock’s shoulder. Her scarred face pales and she gasps at Maddock’srevelation. “No one understands how those crystals work. They are infinitelymore dangerous than Lucia.”
Maddock grunts in agreement. “When Lucia set the castlealight, I didn’t know what else to do. No time to measure, you see, to say theproper words. Allium pulled all that energy for her bloody death spell and Ihad to be quick before she scourged the entire valley.”
“I was cornered. I thought you were dead.”
“Do all Darkmores have such a penchant for drama?” Hesqueezes me fondly.
“How did you get your grimy La Croix paws on theDarkmore’s treasured time crystals?” My wits circle like a wayward flock of pigeons.
“I wonder the same thing.” Mayebelle limps as quickly asshe can. Maddock slows so she can walk beside us. “The Darkmores and the LaCroixs have fought wars over those tiny crystals.”
“Aunt Clarissagave me a vial of the stuff when we announced our marriage. She said if I wasfoolish enough to marry a Darkmore, I’d better share the responsibility ofguarding the past and the future. She takes it quite seriously.”
“And you wondered if she likes you.” I snuggle againsthis chest.
“To those of us in the castle, only a few minutes passed.The time crystal shimmered above the table like a star. Lucia knew what it was at once and sheskewered me with the nastiest scowl you’ve ever seen. She disappeared in a puffof what looked suspiciously like sulphuric smoke. You Darkmores do love yourlittle embellishments. Time warped around us. The crystal dissolved in amillisecond. Once the others realized what had happened, they streamed out thedoors. The castle was lost, but they saved what they could.”
“So Lucia is on the loose after all. I’d hoped . . .”
“Never fear. It seems each and every one of our refinedand sophisticated guests came to our wedding armed to the teeth. You’ve never seenthe like of such handily draw spells. Such conveniently available amulets andcharms. Such accessible hexes and potions. It’s a miracle no one was vaporizedaccidentally.”
“What did you expect?” Maybelle sniffs. “You two were theonly ones who believed in peace and harmony.”
“I didn’t know how far into the future we’d been flung. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when Iheard you cry out.” He tightens his arms around me. “I’ve told you mine, nowtell me yours.”
The terror of the night Maddock disappeared, the longmonths of hopeless waiting as our baby grew inside, the cold forbidding winter,and the despair I felt when I looked down on this valley only last night fadewith the morning mist.
“It doesn’t bear repeating.” A little tremble along myspine is all that remains. “Someone is cooking roast beef. I can smell it.”
I’ve dreamt of returning to this valley many times in thepast months––imagined a thousand ways the reunion might go. War and death andfear seemed likely results of Lucia’s most recent atrocity. It becomes clear aswe approach the group of Darkmores and La Croixs none of my imaginings cameclose to reality.
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