Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

by Elizabeth Holland

  “Here and Frostmoor?” I wondered.

  “Maybe,” her eyes trailed to the floor. “What about the darkness, though?”

  I shook my head. “Do you think she’ll be an enchantress, too?”

  “Charlotte is.”

  “Then maybe Isle Lore’s moon too,” I was sort of mumbling. I wasn’t sure I understood any of it. “You know, I think I have a dress back at my aunt’s house,” I pulled my shoulder bag up over my head as I stood. Scarlet gave a nod. “I’ll just get that and some other things there. It’s getting too late to shop anyway.”

  “Well,” she followed me to the door, “it’s never too late to shop.” We both laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll let you get ready.” She hugged me after I opened the door. “Text me as soon as you’re back.”

  “I promise.”

  I waved as Scarlet drove off. I sat into my car, gripped the wheel, and then I cried. I don’t know why, I don’t really think I was sad, or happy, or mad. I just cried. In my mind, I kept getting flashes of my mother smiling at me. Like the times throughout my childhood when I needed her the most. A skinned knee, a lost stuffed animal… she was just… hovering there in my mind’s eye. I put my head in my hands and realized my fingers were trembling. I stared down at my belly with tear-filled eyes. I hadn’t felt anything, hadn’t noticed a bump. The more I thought about it, the more the fear grew. What if she’s not okay? What if she’s not going to survive?

  “The ritual,” I mumbled in that echo-ey, cool space between my warm body and the fogging window. And, like clockwork, Elliot was at my side with an attention-demanding glare. “Oh my god! You have to stop!” Of course, he didn’t say a word. If only it were the real man. “Get out of my head,” I demanded, clenching my hair and shaking my head. “Get out!” When I opened my eyes to the passenger seat, the man was gone.

  I drove as fast as I could, and luckily, I didn’t get pulled over. I rushed through the front door of my childhood home and called out for my aunt.

  “Irene?” she came out from the bathroom with damp, tangled hair. “What’s the matter?” her eyes scanned me completely. I could see how my shaking grasp on her arm and the tears I couldn’t control were leaving her frantic. “Just tell me,” she ushered. “You can say anything.”

  We sat together on the couch as she turned the lamp on. I shuddered as I spoke, “Listen. Just listen.” In a few seconds, the distant tapping of the drum-like beat came to my ears. And a second later, it registered in hers. She covered her mouth with a gasp.

  “But Elliot’s been gone,” she argued. She was no fool. Without Elliot here—since after the revoking—to father a child, it meant that the baby had already existed. She shook her head. “I can’t believe it survived the ritual. I can’t believe I didn’t see this,” she mumbled.

  “I’m so scared,” I felt my lip quiver.

  My aunt shushed me and pulled me close. “You knew this was a possibility,” she rubbed my arms to ease the shaking.

  “Not the darkness part,” I huffed.

  “It’s alright,” she drew in a deep breath. “The baby is alive and quite strong. This explains the darkness in your eyes.”

  “Is she holding onto the stone’s magic somehow?” I wondered. I had no idea what to expect at this point.

  “I don’t think so,” my aunt set me back and looked me in the eye. “I think she has her father’s spirit. And she’s powerful enough to show her presence beyond the metaphysical.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” she smiled. “When your mother was pregnant with you, I could see the faintest, thinnest blue aura around her form. It was easy to miss. And since she was an air enchantress, I recognized the blue as a sign of you.”

  “Can you see a change in my aura?” I wondered.

  She shook her head. “Not at all. Instead, she’s one with you, permeating the entirety of your soul.” That’s heavy. “Listen, you both went through a major event. The revoking should have killed you, and it would have if not for the tears.” I remembered with a nod. “This baby has already been through more than she should have. But, dear, she’s survived it all.”

  “Are we bound to each other?” I scrunched my nose with curiosity.

  “Absolutely,” her eyes widened. “A mother is always connected to her children. All through life, and sometimes in death.” My aunt held the air for a moment before smirking in thought.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I bet you’ve had some wild dreams lately,” her mouth perked up in joy.

  “How did you know? Wait, Elliot asked me the same thing. Does he know?”

  “He must,” she agreed. Her brow lifted in thought for a split second, and then she explained further. “You’re going through the bewilderment.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s something dragons experience,” she shook her head. “No other creature feels this weight like a dragon. When your baby begins to develop magical attributes within the womb, you begin to visualize the father. Everywhere, day and night, no matter what you do.”

  “Why?” I was nearing the edge of my seat.

  “Because the baby is drawing energy to build its powers. Usually, when both parents are near, the bewilderment is nothing more than increased attraction and intimacy. But since you’re so far away from Elliot… phew, I bet you’re having some incredible dreams.” I felt my cheeks warm.

  “When I see him, will they stop?”

  “Only after the initial incubation is over. This is the time before the baby develops its physical form. Right now,” she glanced to my belly, “your baby is only growing in spirit.”

  “How long does that last?” I couldn’t stop asking questions, and thankfully, she had all the answers.

  “It’s different for each dragon. Elemental magic plays a major part, as does the degree of full-bloodedness.”

  “And faeries don’t go through this? Enchantresses either?”

  She gave a kind smile, “Only dragons transition into something completely different than their original form. The incubation period—and the bewilderment—is necessary for this transition to exist.”

  “Sanne gave me a prophecy about her, about the baby,” I glanced down at my belly then. It was hard to admit to myself that I was indeed carrying a child—Elliot’s child. In every second of silence, my mind was making all sorts of assumptions. What were the chances of her having a mark? What impact would her birth have on the realms? On nature? “She said the baby would arrive when the moons chime twice.”

  “This moon is nearly full,” she lifted her chin. “But it isn’t our moon that matters.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Strength like this, magic so pure and deep… she’ll have your mother’s enchantment for sure.”

  “The moons of Frostmoor and Isle Lore then?”

  “There’s only one way to be certain,” my aunt informed, and then quickly rushed off to the kitchen. I listened to her rummage through a drawer, returning with a cloth and a needle.

  “What’s that for?”

  “I need to read your blood,” she said and then pursed her lips. You what? “Then I’ll know the baby’s true form.”

  I nodded, apprehensively, of course, but I did. My aunt sat down at my side again and set the cloth out on the wood floor beneath us. She then gripped my hand and pricked my finger until a bead of blood pooled at the tip. I hardly felt a thing. Turning my hand downward, she waited for the blood to fall onto the cloth, and when it did, a pattern emerged.

  “Hold still,” she advised before rushing over to the bookshelf. With a little blue book in her hands, she came back and flipped through the pages. It must’ve been a book about symbols, because, as she flipped, I saw countless images and icons with little text.

  Keeping my hand perfectly still, I studied the pattern on the cloth. Swirls and randomness, peaks and valleys; the emerging design seemed to encompass all sorts of things. My baby’s multi-elemental nature was nothing new. I had expected it
truly. But the more the blood dripped, the more I wondered if the baby would ever find balance in her life.

  “I’ll need time to check the charts,” my aunt jumped from the couch and went to the bookshelf.

  “That’s it?” I called to her as she slipped into the kitchen. Coming back with a mug of tea, she was nodding. “What realm is she from? What moons are we watching?”

  “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the journey tomorrow?” she raised one brow. I had forgotten how accurate her visions were. Or how much she knew without letting on. The baby, though… I couldn’t believe she didn’t see her coming.

  I bit my lip and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ve got a dress upstairs.”

  A dress. The only dress I owned was the black one I wore to my mother’s funeral. It was pushed all the way to the back right of my closet, behind some old jeans I hadn’t wore since high school. I pulled out the dress and held it up. I knew it would fit me fine, but it needed to be washed. I ran downstairs and into the laundry room, and I started up the load. My aunt was at the kitchen table with a large paper unfolded out before her. When I came close to the table, she jumped a little and then gasped.

  “What’s wrong?” I took a seat.

  With a breath out, as she pulled her glasses down and looked over the rim, my aunt shook her head. “I’ve gotten used to being alone lately,” she huffed.

  “It hasn’t been that long since I left,” I crossed my arms.

  My aunt sat back and bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s been quite a long time. When you left for Skye Sorn, there was snow outside,” she waved her hand to the window. “It’s nearly warm enough for shorts.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve been alone,” I told. “And I’m sorry I startled you.”

  With a growing grin, my aunt shook off the apology as though it wasn’t necessary. “It’s alright. I’m just on edge lately,” her eyes trailed to the charts before her. “And so much of this doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t?”

  “Well, you see here,” she pointed to some lines and ellipticals that must have represented the heavens. I really should have been trying to understand more, especially as Lady of the Wild, but I never made time to study magic. Not like my sister. “According to the blood, your daughter belongs to the dragon and the enchanted realm.” I got a little giddy thinking about my baby and the magic she might someday possess. “Their moons align often, really. More often than I expected.”

  “Does that mean I’ll have her quicker than normal?” I asked, remembering the dragon couple back in Frostmoor—and their endless pregnancy.

  “Nothing about this baby is normal,” my aunt eyed me from over the rim of her glasses again. It stilled me solemnly. “But what’s most confusing,” she glanced back at the charts, “is how much time passes between the last pair of full moons and the next.”

  “Isn’t there a pattern?”

  “Typically, yes. But my predictions, based on the predictions Erik has been mapping, leaves us with twice as long of time between chimes.”

  I lifted my brow and sighed. “So, how long?”

  Looking me in the eye, she said, “The end of spring.”

  DRUMMING

  I woke up the next morning in my old bed upstairs in my old room. I had stayed with my aunt, who insisted it was for her own benefit, but I knew better. Rolling over in the blankets—blankets I didn’t take with me because my brother was so wonderful to get me new things—I could smell the lingering scent of the lotion I adored. My newest bottle now sat in my bathroom over the bookstore, but this scent, a scent from me stripping out the last bit of creamy softness, was from the very first bottle. The one Dylan got me.

  To say I missed him was an understatement. My brother and I hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but he was family. More than family, really. He was my protector, my guardian until Elliot’s arrival. He saw that I was safe, even when I made it difficult. And now look where he was. Frozen in a slumber, left to his dreams, day and night, not a sound, not a movement. I wished I could talk to him, to get his advice about everything that was happening.

  It wasn’t like I could just go around talking to my friends. Scarlet knew, but I didn’t answer her texts last night for fear she’d asked me a thousand questions. She’d want to know everything from how I was feeling to possible name choices. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Charlotte had a right to know, just because she was my sister and we helped each other during times like this. But again, I knew she’d be picking apart my brain, trying to understand everything she could about the baby I had yet to feel. Not to mention the disapproval she’d have when finding out it’s Elliot’s child. We’d be forever linked together; nothing could ever take that away. A Lordship and Ladyship was one thing, but a child was eternal.

  And Lydia, how badly I wanted to call her up and spill everything that was going on. Something, though, was telling me that it was better to leave her alone. She and Lucas had been spending a lot of time together, and they were happy. Even with this Greyhart stuff coming to light, Lucas seemed to be doing well, spending more time out in the city than at home. I knew this bothered Scarlet, but she was seeking something he didn’t care to uncover.

  I didn’t want to cause attention to myself anyway. It was in my nature, unfortunately, to create distractions, to have everything somehow revolve around me. I knew that wasn’t what everybody needed, though. They needed to have time to heal from all the stress of the revoking. I needed time to heal. We had all traveled so much, experienced so much; it hadn’t even been a year since I discovered what I was. Besides, the next few days were about the death of a king, and the crowning of a new ruler. I needed to support Tristan, to be there for Lorcan, and to try my hardest not to jump Elliot’s bones the minute I saw him.

  Rolling up from under the blankets, I felt a weird pressure in my lower belly. I touched it, realizing something was off. And when I saw myself in the mirror, it confirmed what I had expected.

  “What, what is it?” my aunt practically dove into the room after I screamed. “Oh, dear goddess divine,” she said as her jaw dropped. I was staring at myself—at the little bump that seemed to blossom overnight. I almost couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel my heart beating anymore. “Irene, it’s alright,” my aunt led me to the bed. It felt weird to sit down, and so I popped right back to my feet.

  “This isn’t real,” I shook my head. “This can’t be real.”

  “Well, it looks real to me,” she blurted, covering her mouth just as quick. She reached over and I nodded to allow her a feel. And the baby jolted, almost like she flipped over completely.

  “Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m not ready for this. I can’t be a mother. I can’t handle this right now. I barely know how to use my own magic, let alone deal with an infant—an infant more powerful than anyone I know.”

  “Irene, breathe, please,” my aunt stood to meet me eye to eye. “You are definitely capable of handling this or nature would not have gifted you such a treasure.” Her words struck me deep. I inhaled and then let the stress leave my body as the air left my lungs.

  “How am I supposed to go unnoticed at the funeral? It’s not like I can hide this,” I pointed to my belly.

  “And you shouldn’t.”

  “Everyone will be freaking out! They’ll be afraid of her. They’ll think she’s a demon.”

  “They should fear her,” she spoke firmly.

  I exhaled and gathered my thoughts. Turning in the mirror, I realized the bump wasn’t any bigger than my hands as I cradled it. “Really, it kinda looks like I gained a little weight.”

  “It does,” my aunt observed me as she put her hand on her chin. “Yes, and your dress,” she left the room quickly. In about a minute, she returned with my dress from the dryer. “It’s loose enough; she won’t pop out front like you did,” she laughed to herself.

  “I did what?”

  “Your mother visited me when she was pregnant with you, and you stuck straight out front.” The idea
of my mother being pregnant with me gave me a smile. And then, out of nowhere, I missed her all over again as tears clouded my sight. “It’ll be alright,” my aunt pulled me to her chest. “We’ll all take care of you and the baby; you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  I was worried. And about so many things, but right then, I was missing my mom. I didn’t want to spend an hour talking about her though. I had to get ready to attend a funeral.

  “Thanks,” I told my aunt. “I’m going to head back to my apartment to get ready.”

  My aunt nodded.

  “Oh, and I’m going to wait until after the funeral,” I glanced back to the mirror. “If I can somewhat keep her hidden, then it’ll be for the best right now. I’ll tell everyone after.”

  “Of course,” she nodded with a smile.

  Just before I started my car to leave, Bryn sent me a text. She was coming to my apartment to pick me up at ten. Her friends from Talon Grove would be making the portal for us in her backyard like before. That first time was heavy on my mind as I drove under the sun and toward my home. I had left Elliot in the mortal realm—I left with his child. If I had known, I probably wouldn’t have gone. Would Charlotte even be alive? Would Caleb have gotten himself killed trying to avenge her? All the what-ifs and maybes were starting to creep me out. By the time I parked behind the bookstore, I had a terrible case of the goosebumps. And a fresh vision of Elliot.

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” I sighed as I left the car. The silent man followed me up the stairs. “Don’t you see what you’ve done to me? Don’t you know you’re not real?” I couldn’t believe myself. I knew he wasn’t real, but I kept talking to him. I unlocked the door and went inside, and I even held the door for him to enter. The man stood there staring at me, and I had the idea to take advantage of him one last time. Maybe it would keep me calm when I came face to face with Elliot for real. Maybe I wouldn’t jump him in the middle of the ceremony.

  A breeze came from the northern window, and I walked over to close it. The place was cool, but the sun was starting to filter in across the floor and warm the air. I slid my shoes off as Elliot—silent, dreamy Elliot—kept his eyes on me. I went over and stood on the sunny patch and closed my eyes. The drumming of my… my daughter… came to my ears almost immediately. She was getting stronger, and at a faster rate than I imagined. Spring was in full bloom now, and my daughter would be born near June. Maybe have those pouty lips like her dad. Maybe be mouthy like me. What will we name her? What school will she go to? Should I go back to Frostmoor? I felt at my belly and she rolled a little. It was like she knew I was thinking about her. I looked up at silent Elliot and didn’t feel a single urge to rush at him.