Descension

by Burgess, B. C.

  “Hurts…”

  “What hurts?”

  “Everything…”

  “Shit.” Hysteria spiking, Aedan blinked back moisture and forced himself to breathe. “What can I do, Rose? Help me make it better. Please.”

  She found his hand, wrapping it in stark white fingers, but she didn’t answer. She couldn’t. If the words were to make it through her stretched throat, they wouldn’t get through her clenched teeth.

  “Rose,” Aedan choked, checking her pulse—rapid, but not fatally so. In fact, he couldn’t find any reason for her pain. Every organ he examined was stressed but working. “I can’t stand seeing you like this, Rose.” It sucked his breath away and pulverized his heart. “Give me a clue, love. Please.”

  He pried her other hand from the sheets and firmly held on, begging for the pain to take him instead, employing magic, willpower and faith to make it so. He would gladly take all of it, every last drop, anything to give her relief.

  His hands began prickling, like an army of fire ants had suddenly swallowed them, and while instinct told him to cringe, undying love and devotion welcomed the burn. As it stretched up his arms and throughout his torso, Rhosewen went limp.

  Muscles rigid, Aedan struggled to breathe through clenched teeth, but he was winning the battle, absorbing then pushing the pain away with relative ease.

  Rhosewen breathlessly watched his face as tears streamed from her bloodshot eyes. “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled, shaking away the last of the burn. He released her hands and took her face. “What was that? Do you have any idea what just happened?”

  Her features twisted as more tears slipped down her temples.

  “You do know,” he realized. “You have to tell me, Rose. What’s going on?”

  “This… this wasn’t the first time.”

  “What? This has happened before?”

  “Never that bad.”

  “Damn it, Rose. How could you keep this from me?”

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know what was happening… and I… I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Ssh…” he whispered, laying his cheek to hers. “Calm down. I’m sorry I cursed at you.”

  “No, Aedan… you’re right. I should have told you… but it’s never been this bad.” Her tears and sobs were relentless, breaking up her speech.

  “It’s okay,” he assured, sweeping her hair from her clammy face. “Don’t worry about that. It’s as much my fault for not seeing it.”

  “But I hid it, Aedan. I’ve been using magic to keep it from you.”

  Aedan turned his face into his bicep, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose. He had no idea how much it would hurt to find out she’d been lying to him. He smoothed his expression and met her stare, gently stroking her moist cheek. “Let’s forget you hid it. We’ll never talk about it again, but you have to tell me everything now. All of it. Okay?”

  She pulled in a ragged breath, trying to calm herself. “Okay.”

  “When was the first time you hurt?”

  “When I realized I was pregnant, but it was nothing like this. It was mild compared to this.”

  Damn. This was bad. “How long did it last?”

  “Most of it went away after a few seconds.”

  “Most of it?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes.

  She squirmed. “Well… it never went away completely. I just got used to it. It’s kind of an achy feeling.”

  Aedan’s features twisted with a different kind of ache. She’d been suffering in silence for five months while he’d been an ignorant fool. “Have there been other times like the first?”

  “Yes,” she confessed.

  “How often?”

  “Two… three times a day.”

  “Shit,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Rose. So sorry.”

  “Why? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I’m sorry you’re in pain and I can’t help.”

  “But you did help. You took it from me.”

  “What about now? Are you hurting now?”

  She shifted and swallowed. “Yes, but I can handle it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. I’m calling our parents. We have to figure out what’s going on before it gets worse.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled, pulling his hand to her heart. “I’m sorry, Aedan. I should have told you, but everything was so perfect. You were happy, which made me happy…” She dropped her gaze, ashamed of her suddenly inadequate defense. “That’s no excuse. It was wrong. You should be furious with me.”

  “Never,” he countered, touching his lips to hers. “I could never be furious with you. But no more secrets. You have to tell me about every little thing, no matter how insignificant you think it is. And please don’t manipulate your aura anymore. I want to see everything that’s supposed to be in it, so I can help.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, desperate to redeem herself. “I promise.”

  He gave her a kiss then started to get out of bed, but she pulled him back, more tears springing from her eyes. “I love you, Aedan.”

  He dried her tears then gave her another kiss. “I love you, too, my beautiful Rose. You and our baby girl are my life.”

  He watched her eyes for another long moment then got out of bed, walking three feet to the phone. Now that he knew what she was going through, he wouldn’t leave her alone, so he embraced the risk of calling their family from the apartment.

  He called his parents first, reaching Serafin on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Aedan greeted.

  “Hey, son. Everything okay?”

  “No.”

  Aedan relayed what he knew of Rhosewen’s affliction, which wasn’t much. “I’ve never seen or felt anything like it,” he finished, remembering the pain he’d absorbed from her hand. “This isn’t a complication stemming from pregnancy. It’s something else.”

  “You think the Unforgivables’ curse hit its mark.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Aedan watched Rhosewen walk to the bathroom then waited for her to close the door. “It seems her pain has something to do with the baby,” he quietly suggested. “It started the second she found out she was pregnant, and it’s only gotten stronger. The worst one yet happened right after the baby kicked and we found out she’s a girl. I can’t know for sure, but it’s as if… it would seem… it’s like the more she loves our baby the more she hurts. And if that’s the case…” He swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. “If that’s the case… having our baby could… it could…” He couldn’t say it.

  He didn’t have to. “I understand, Aedan. I’ll call Caitrin and fill him in on what’s going on. Now that we have an idea of what the spell is doing to Rhosewen, we can research its origins and perhaps learn how to counter it.”

  “Have you ever heard of a spell like this?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. Give us time.”

  “We may not have much.”

  “We’ll do everything we can, Aedan. It’s our number one priority.”

  The bathroom door opened, and Aedan looked at his love. She was so beautiful, even with a pale face and weary eyes. “Call when you know something,” he mumbled, watching her crawl into bed.

  “Of course,” Serafin agreed. “Give Rhosewen a kiss for us.”

  “I will,” Aedan assured. “Talk to you later.”

  “Bye, son.”

  Weighted with worry, Aedan replaced the receiver, quickly crawling into bed with his sweet and sorrowful Rose.

  Chapter 26

  Rhosewen’s pain continued and worsened so by her seventh month of pregnancy, she was extremely ill. Every move enhanced the torture; therefore she barely moved at all. Her dull, sagging skin clung to bone, veined and ghastly white, and her limp spirals were losing their luster. The only parts of her body that hadn’t paled were her bright blue eyes, which were always shiny with moisture, and her big, r
ound belly, which was only big in comparison to the rest of her frail form. Aedan held her hand around the clock, absorbing a fraction of her agony, but Rhosewen endured the bulk of the physical misery.

  Their parents put their lives on hold to search for answers, going so far as to visit dangerous and dark covens, seeking information on the wickedest spells, but they’d found nothing pertinent to their situation. Not even the soothsayers they’d paid exorbitant deposits to could divine useful answers.

  The idea of seeking out the Unforgivables and asking them to remove the curse had been broached several times, but Rhosewen wouldn’t allow it.

  “That would defeat everything we’ve gone through,” she argued after hearing the idea. “Our number one priority is keeping our baby safe.”

  Of course Aedan wanted to keep his daughter safe, but watching his beautiful Rose wilt was killing him. Nevertheless, they decided to stay away from the Unforgivables.

  Aedan was sure the actual caster had been Medea. He’d taken his eyes off her for mere seconds; that’s when the curse had hit. He suggested locating Medea and getting her alone. They could make her talk. He would make her talk, and he’d have no problem silencing her. But Caitrin had gathered information that Agro was keeping Medea under his thumb, which meant they’d have to breach an army to capture their mark.

  So Rhosewen and Aedan suffered, awaiting their fate.

  Through all the desperation and gloom, Katherine had been a godsend, nothing short of an angel. When the curse began taking a toll on Rhosewen’s physical appearance, she told Katherine she’d been diagnosed with a rare, untreatable heart condition. Though curious and suspicious, Katherine kept her questions to herself, going the extra mile to make her renters comfortable. She even did their grocery shopping, taking payment for her trouble only because Aedan placed the money in her purse. He suspected she gave it back by buying extra groceries, and he knew she spent more money on their baby than she did herself. She’d already stocked one of her guestrooms with every newborn necessity imaginable; the apartment had a corner devoted to gifts she’d bought the baby; and she’d ordered a crib, measuring every inch of the apartment to make sure it would fit.

  Aedan and Rhosewen watched Katherine’s avid preparation and found it sweet, amusing and depressing. They wanted to join her in the planning, share her enthusiasm, but due to Rhosewen’s health, they couldn’t reach Katherine’s level of excitement, so they settled for watching it. She brightened their moods, kept them entertained, and gave them a glimpse of the outside world, which they hadn’t seen in months. Yes, Katherine was an angel.

  “Have you decided on a name?” she asked during one of her frequent visits.

  “It depends on what she looks like,” Rhosewen answered, lying on the couch with her head in Aedan’s lap. “We have one for if she’s dark and beautiful, like her daddy, and one for if she’s fair and beautiful…”

  “Like her mom,” Aedan finished, caressing Rhosewen’s white knuckles.

  “I guess you’re not going to tell me the two options?” Katherine concluded.

  “Nope,” Rhosewen grinned. “We want to surprise you.”

  Katherine lifted a hand to her heart, obviously touched by the sentiment. “Are your parents going to visit soon?”

  “Two weeks,” Aedan answered. “They’ll stay until the baby’s born. My dad’s a doctor and will perform the delivery.”

  “That’s nice,” Katherine approved. “I’m sure you guys miss them.”

  “Yes,” they confirmed.

  “Hey!” Katherine exclaimed, her face and aura lighting up, “I have an idea. Why don’t you guys stay at my house for the rest of the pregnancy? I have two extra rooms, so your parents can stay, too. I’ll take the apartment while they’re here.”

  “That’s kind of you, Katherine,” Aedan replied, deeply moved, “but we won’t impose on you like that.”

  “Nonsense. I want you to impose. Please.”

  Aedan and Rhosewen looked at each other, considering the cramped apartment and its tiny bathroom.

  “Okay,” Aedan decided. “We would love to stay, but we won’t have you living out here. When our parents visit, mine will take the apartment.”

  “But I really don’t…”

  “That’s the deal,” Aedan interrupted. “Take it or leave it.”

  “I’ll take it,” Katherine agreed, shooting up from her chair. “I’m going to get the rooms ready. I’ll be back once everything’s in order.”

  “We’ll be here,” Aedan dryly quipped, and Katherine laughed as she walked out the door.

  “That was really nice of her,” Rhosewen whispered, rubbing her stretched abdomen.

  “Yes,” Aedan agreed. “Katherine has a positive and active energy that would give most witches a run for their money, and her heart’s extraordinary.” He leaned over, kissing Rhosewen’s clammy forehead. “Almost as golden as yours.”

  ~ * * * ~

  Two weeks after settling into Katherine’s largest bedroom, Aedan reluctantly left Rhosewen’s side to meet their parents in the front yard. He introduced them to Katherine as Jack and Susan Callaway and Paul and Diane Klein. Then Katherine made an excuse to leave.

  As Aedan led his parents inside, they watched his expression and the air around him, not saying a word. The moment they entered the house, Morrigan sobbed and slumped toward the floor. Caitrin quickly caught her with magic then hugged her to his chest, burying his red face in her hair.

  Daleen wrapped her arms around Aedan’s waist, and Serafin took his shoulders, searching his eyes. “Is it really that bad, son?”

  Aedan wasn’t crying. His Rose still had petals. “Yeah,” he confirmed, clearing his tight throat.

  Morrigan shook her head in denial, her wail muffling into Caitrin’s shirt, and Aedan took a deep breath, struggling to go on. “She’s in bed. That’s where she stays… hurts her to move.” He looked from the faded hardwood to Morrigan’s trembling back. “She wants to see you guys, but you have to keep your composure around her. I don’t want her feeling guilty.”

  Everyone nodded save for Morrigan.

  “I know it’s hard,” Aedan added, touching Morrigan’s shoulder. “And I don’t expect the tears to stop, but you can’t break down in front of her.”

  Morrigan took several deep breaths then left Caitrin’s chest. “I won’t,” she agreed. “If I can’t handle it, I’ll leave the room.”

  “Thank you,” Aedan whispered. “And… I’m sorry… for everything.”

  “Me, too,” she returned, squeezing his bicep. Then she grasped for Caitrin’s hand as she followed Aedan down the hallway.

  When they entered the bedroom, Morrigan stumbled to a standstill, gripping Caitrin so fiercely her entire arm turned white.

  Rhosewen’s body was emaciated, absolutely pitiful, all but the big, round belly brimming with life. Her dilapidated muscles convulsed and flexed as she looked at her parents, her pallid lips curving into a weak smile.

  Aedan rushed to the bed, quickly taking her left hand. Then his muscles tightened as hers melted into the blankets.

  “That’s better,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her hand then laid his cheek in her palm. “Of course, my love.”

  “You guys are just in time,” she said, looking at their company. “Your granddaughter’s kicking up a storm. Come feel.”

  Morrigan and Caitrin flew to the bed, gently hugging and kissing their daughter. Then they moved aside, letting Serafin and Daleen do the same. Soon all four of them had their hands on her twitching stomach, sighing as they reveled in miraculous peace.

  Once the baby stilled, Serafin performed examinations on mother and child. Though Aedan did this multiple times a day, he demanded additional opinions, hoping they could disprove his dire assessment.

  After Serafin and Daleen finished, they took each other’s hands and looked at Aedan. “Let’s give them some privacy;” Serafin suggested, “go talk in the kitchen.”

  Aedan
didn’t like this suggestion and looked away, searching Rhosewen’s eyes.

  “Go,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

  After another long moment of watching her, Aedan looked to Caitrin. “Let me know if it gets worse.”

  Caitrin nodded, keeping his sober gaze on his daughter, and Aedan leaned in, kissing her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her lips. Then he let go and followed his parents.

  Once they sat at the kitchen table, he turned to his dad. “Well?”

  “You’re right,” Serafin lamented. “Her organs are failing her.”

  Aedan dropped his head to the table as an anguished cry scraped his throat.

  Daleen stifled a sob, wrapping one arm around Aedan’s back, and Serafin cleared his throat before going on. “Her heart, liver, kidneys, bones, even her skin, it’s all in terrible shape. The only healthy thing about her is the baby, who’s thriving despite Rhosewen’s condition.”

  “Isn’t there something we can do?” Aedan croaked. “Anything? There has to be something we haven’t thought of yet.”

  “We’ve hit dead ends at every turn,” Serafin replied. “We know the curse was designed to target her and not the baby, and it would seem our theory is correct—the spell’s catalyst is her love for the baby. We’ve figured out the curse’s intention, but it doesn’t do us any good. A spell like this involves thorough detail, details we can’t possibly know. And we haven’t found anyone with a similar experience, no one to clue us in on the specifics. Without knowing the actual spell work involved, we can’t remove it or reverse it. We could guess for years and not get it right. There are far too many components incorporated. Furthermore, if our theory is correct, as long as she loves her daughter, we can’t heal her body.”

  “I’ve tried healing her,” Aedan whispered. “It doesn’t work.”

  Serafin reached over, resting a hand on his son’s back. “I’m sure you’ve done everything you can, Aedan, but this is out of your hands. It’s my belief this will end in one of two ways. The first, the most hopeful, is that we’re dealing with a temporary spell, designed to affect Rhosewen only while she’s pregnant. Once she gives birth, the curse will cease to exist, which means we could heal her… if she makes it through the delivery.” He paused, sliding his hand to Aedan’s shoulder. “But if the curse is everlasting, our hands are tied. Rhosewen’s body can’t take much more. If this goes on, she will die.”