The Dragon of Sedona
Page 22
Retrieving a pair of gloves from his bag, Tobias snapped them on. “Raven, just lean back, I’m going to check you again.”
Maiara already knew what he would find. “She is ready, Tobias. The baby is coming.”
Raven squeezed her hand, her eyes frantic. “Is that true? How do you know?”
After a quick exam, Tobias blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Raven, but Maiara is right. It’s time.”
Another contraction hit Raven and she cried out. Maiara drained off some of the pain. She muffled a gasp.
“You’re helping her?” Tobias whispered to Maiara as he dug in his bag.
Speech was impossible, but she nodded, her knuckles paling as they gripped Raven’s hands. Finally the contraction abated, and she let her go.
“They’re getting stronger,” Raven said, voice trembling. Her tone was one Maiara had heard many times before. Every mother reached this point. As powerful a witch as Raven was, giving birth meant letting go. What was about to happen was out of her control, bigger than anything that had ever happened to her before.
“Trust.” Maiara clutched her fingers and rode the next wave of pain with her. “You are in the hands of the Great Spirit.”
As soon as it had eased, Tobias jabbed a needle into Raven’s thigh and pressed the plunger. “This will take the edge off.”
“What is that?” Maiara asked.
“A medicine to dull the pain. Better than willow bark.”
“Oh.” The tools and new medicines in Tobias’s arsenal fascinated Maiara. When they had more time, she hoped Tobias would teach her modern healing the way she had taught him her ways.
Raven’s body went limp and then her eyes closed. Maiara took the opportunity to whisper to Tobias. “The little one is…” Maiara motioned with her hands.
“Correct. It’s too big,” Tobias confirmed. “We have to take it out cesarean.”
Maiara shook her head, not understanding the word. Tobias made the motion for cutting open the womb. She raised her hand to her mouth. She had seen it done once, but the mother did not survive.
Raven moaned but didn’t open her eyes.
“The medication has taken effect. Good.” Tobias dug in his bag again and removed a soft roll full of narrow, sharp knives and other metal tools. “We need to do this now before things get complicated.”
“What could be more complicated than this?” Maiara couldn’t imagine anything more difficult than cutting open a woman to remove what was inside her.
Tobias helped her into a pair of gloves. “If the baby doesn’t want to come willingly.”
Maiara shot him a horrified look. “What type of baby doesn’t want to be born?”
Tobias frowned. “Dragons are an interesting species. A dragon mother is fireproof, and her eggs are born burning. Raven is not fireproof. Let’s just hope this baby is more witch than it is dragon. Do you have your amulet?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then call Gabriel. We’re going to need him to hold her down.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Raven drifted in and out of sleep. Whatever Tobias had given her had made her incredibly drowsy, and she floated off whenever the pain lessened. Then a contraction would come and rip her from her slumber before the drug washed her under again.
This time when she woke, Gabriel was standing over her, and he wasn’t smiling. “Tobias has to get the baby out, Raven. It’s going to hurt.”
“How? They can’t do it here,” Raven mumbled. She didn’t even have an IV.
“They have to.” His dark eyes burned.
Raven finally understood through the haze of the drugs and the pain. Tobias needed to perform the cesarean, here and now. Without anesthesia. Fear knocked on her heart, but she refused to open the door.
The moment she’d learned she was pregnant with Gabriel’s child, she’d known this wouldn’t be easy. Tobias had tried to convince her to end the pregnancy there and then. He’d told her it would most likely kill her. Legend warned the child of a witch and a dragon would be a monster.
But Raven had faced death before and she loved a man others thought was a monster. She loved this child. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Do it.”
Gabriel nodded toward Tobias and then circled her wrists with his hands. She locked her eyes on him.
“Hold her,” Tobias said. A cold, searing pain sliced under her belly button.
She tried not to scream, but in the end, she failed. Tipping to the side, she heaved and heard Gabriel curse as she threw up over the side of the bed.
“I said hold her, Gabriel! By the Mountain, man!” Tobias snapped. Raven did not fight Gabriel as he held her shoulders down. “Now, Maiara. This is the hard part.”
Maiara grabbed one of Raven’s hands and the pain lessened considerably. The healer’s lips moved in silent prayer. She was taking some of the pain. Raven would have to thank her for that later.
Dimly, Raven risked a glance at what Tobias was doing. The egg was halfway out of her abdomen, its outer shell like a coiled string of pearls. Surreal. Was the haze in the room drug induced or from the blur of her tears? Either way, the egg was beautiful, and it pulsed peacock blue at the center. Her baby’s heart. Tobias cut away at some type of biological web that kept him from removing it.
Beside her, Maiara groaned. “Tobias, quickly!”
Desperate to get the baby out, he wrapped an arm around the egg and attempted to tear it free. Crackling magic stirred in the air around them. If she’d been able to speak, she would have warned them all to get back—she knew this magic—but she was too weak. Purple lightning ignited from the shell and across her skin, sending Gabriel, Maiara, and Tobias flying. The egg stayed where it was.
Raven wailed as the full magnitude of the pain slammed into her. Every nerve ending burned like she was on fire. Tobias attempted to get to his feet to help her and fell down again, his legs trembling. Maiara reached for her, no doubt to help with the pain, but she’d been thrown too far away and her legs, like Tobias’s, failed her.
And through it all, Raven could feel the echo of an emotion coming from the egg. All that purple magic was something she could sense, absorb, as she did with every other kind of magic. And in it, she saw the truth.
Her baby was scared.
With her last ounce of strength, she reached for the egg, her teeth chattering from an unexpected wave of cold that overwhelmed her flesh. Her fingers dug into the bumpy exterior, wet with her own blood. Grunting with the effort, she heaved. Using her muscles but also her witch’s connection to the elements, she willed her child into existence with a spell that came from nowhere else but the depths of her soul.
The pain was unfathomable. Her flesh tore and her blood spilled, but her child gave way. She collapsed against the bed with the egg tucked into the crook of her elbow.
All at once, her body went rigid, muscles locking. Then, everything went dark.
The lights came back on for Raven and all the pain was gone. She stood beside herself as absolute chaos broke loose in the room. Gabriel was howling as if his heart was being pried from his chest with a dull spoon. He hovered over a corpse holding a giant pearl.
That couldn’t be her, could it? The body was too pale to be human, and all the light had gone from the blue eyes, the pupils nothing more than pinpricks. The abdomen was torn open from hip to rib in an ugly mess that might as well be called a disembowelment.
Maiara placed her healing amulet on the body’s neck, the skin of the corpse barely darker than the white shell. Again, Raven resisted the idea that it was her lying there. She couldn’t accept it. She was right here, warm and safe, watching it all.
Tobias tried to replace all her abdominal parts, fumbling with bloody innards and clamps and strings. Raven had a sudden comical vision of Humpty Dumpty. She’d had a great fall. You’ll never put all the pieces back together, Tobias. Never.
Gabriel pounded on her chest. Be careful, she thought. You’ll hurt the baby. The egg after all was still ne
stled in the crook of her arm in all its pearlescent glory. It was all about the child now, she realized. That was the important thing.
“You’re a mess,” a woman’s voice said.
Raven jumped at the sound. A dark-haired goddess appeared at her side. There was no doubt she was a goddess. She wore a white gown that draped around her perfect olive skin in a way no human could pull off, its color brighter than any she’d seen before. Her eyes were the color of liquid gold. Being in her presence was like standing in the sun.
“Who are you?” Raven asked.
“You don’t recognize me, granddaughter? I suppose I should insert a number of greats before grand, but the gods and goddesses put little stock in measuring time. I wouldn’t know how many greats, and I would be hard-pressed to name your entire lineage. Surely when you look upon me, you must see some part of yourself.”
“Circe.” She said the name with reverence.
The goddess bowed her head. “Yes, it is I.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Dark realization traveled through her soul. “Am I dead?”
“Yes,” Circe said. “Whether you stay that way is still to be known.”
The stuff she was made of turned to cold lace like her soul was nothing more than a delicate frost on stone. She’d read the Greek gods were easily offended. Raven lowered her eyes, trying to find the right words. “I have so much to thank you for, Circe. My magic. My mate. Please, goddess, I beg you for one more favor. I want to know my child. If there is anything you can do, please help me live.”
Unmoved, Circe raised a hand. “We have little time together, Raven, and there is something I must tell you. A message you must hear and remember.”
Raven didn’t understand, but she hoped the message was for the living and not the underworld.
“A long time ago, your ancestor and her two sisters discovered a book of spells called the Golden Grimoire. The grimoire belonged to Hera herself, a gift from Zeus containing the secrets of the immortals. Anyone capable of wielding the spells inside can harness the power of the gods. Afraid of the grimoire falling into the wrong hands, Hera convinced Hades to secure it for her in the underworld. There it stayed for centuries until the three sisters conjured it.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Circe, my namesake and your ancestor, along with her sisters, protected the book in this realm for generations, until a jealous rival revealed their secret. When Hera discovered their insurrection, the three sisters took refuge in Paragon, one of the few worlds beyond Hera’s control. There they hid the book in one of the five kingdoms where it survives to this day. Can you imagine what happened next, Raven?”
“Hera tried to get it back?”
Circe nodded. “As soon as Hera discovered the book was somewhere in Paragon, she demanded that the goddess of the Mountain return it to her. But like me, the Mountain is a descendant of a titan. Zeus and Hera have little power over her. Rejected, Hera poisoned the ears of the king and queen of Paragon, making them ravenous for power. It is because of her that your mate is here.
“Everything happening in Paragon is fueled by Hera’s jealousy and her desire to get that book back. And she is merciless. She has always hated my creation and will burn Paragon down to pluck the book from its ashes if unchecked.”
“Your creation. That’s right, you created dragons.”
“And their world.”
“I don’t understand. She’s Hera, the queen of the gods. If she wanted to burn Paragon down, why hasn’t she already? Why not snap her fingers and call the book to her?”
“Even gods and goddesses have rules and limitations,” Circe said. “Paragon is under my protection as well as the Mountain’s, and we have friends among the gods. We’ve succeeded at keeping Hera in check, but she has weakened our hold from the inside. The dark magic keeping Eleanor and Brynhoff on the throne is also corrupting the Mountain. She is vulnerable, and if the Mountain falls, Paragon falls.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Mark me, Raven, only when the treasure of Paragon sits upon the throne and the Golden Grimoire is returned to Hera will their world or this one be safe. I will help you along the way when I can.”
Raven’s head spun. How could she possibly process everything she’d been told? “But… what do you expect me to do?”
The goddess stared down at the egg, still pulsing in the crook of her body’s arm. “Don’t you know, granddaughter? The truth is in front of you.”
She didn’t know, and she had no idea what the goddess wanted from her. “But I’m dead!” She pointed at her body and the people she loved working diligently over it.
The goddess’s gaze burned into hers, and the smile she gave her washed over her like the light from a star. “Don’t underestimate yourself, granddaughter. The three sisters are the most powerful magical beings in any universe. Reunite them. Use the magic you were born to yield. Save Paragon.”
“But… but…”
“Remember.” The goddess leaned over and whispered a poem in her ear that rooted in her mind. “It’s time, Raven. Breathe.” Circe grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her mouth to Raven’s in a kiss that ignited her lips and seared her throat. Light branched to her hips and elbows. It blazed in her fingers and toes. Circe’s kiss was like drinking sunlight, and when that liquid fire had filled every part of her, she crashed back into her broken body. Breath flowed into her lungs and pain followed, branching through her body once again.
Eyes wide, Raven clawed at the amulet around her neck and held it in her fist. She was a witch who could absorb magic, and she did so now, drawing healing power into herself from the shell, from Maiara, from the dragon tooth that still dwelled in her stomach.
“For the love of the goddess,” Tobias whispered. He dropped the needle he was using to try to stitch her abdomen and backed away. Maiara cried out and pulled her hand away, and Gabriel stopped beating against her heart.
Inch by ravaged inch, Raven’s body mended itself, everything back in place, the muscles rejoining, the skin adhering itself in layers. The stitches Tobias had finished fell from her newly formed skin, digested and spit out by her healed body.
Everything hurt and her limbs trembled despite being whole again. She needed water. Nourishment. Only then did she realize her arms were empty.
Tongue like leather, she struggled to speak, but when she did, her voice reverberated through the room. “Where’s my baby?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
For most of Raven’s life, motherhood was an abstract concept that lurked in the periphery of her experiences. Only in her wildest imagination had she dreamed of being a mother at all, and nowhere in those dreams had a pearl shell come into play. But Raven lived in a world of magic now, and her child did too.
“Am I awake? Because this feels like a dream. Is this a dream?” Avery leaned back in the plush leather couch and stared at the egg nestled among the burning logs in the fireplace.
“You’re not dreaming.” Raven sipped tea in the seat beside her. “And you haven’t lost your mind.” Gabriel had carried her out there a few minutes ago and propped her up in a nest of pillows. With Willow’s help, he’d made a tray of food and drink for her as well. Although weak and sore, Raven felt in amazing shape, considering she’d been dead less than an hour ago.
“Is it okay for it to be in the fire? Burning like that?” Avery asked. Her tone was equal parts wonder and skepticism.
Gabriel refilled Raven’s tea and fed her a finger sandwich from the tray as if she were a child. Raven loved the attention of her mate and kissed his fingers between bites. While she was chewing, he answered for her.
“Not only is it okay, it is good for the whelp. In Paragon, dragon mothers place their eggs beside a stream of lava in the mountain to incubate. See how the shell glows? The heat fuels the magic. If you touch it, you’ll find the shell itself is barely hot.” Gabriel never took his eyes off Raven as he spoke.
“I’ll
take your word for it,” Avery said.
Raven’s newborn was the size of a small watermelon with a bumpy shell that reminded her of a Fabergé egg decorated with hundreds of large pearls. A one-inch ribbon of smooth white broke the otherwise uniform exterior in a spiral from tip to base. It was through this thin strip that she viewed a silhouette. Raven smiled when the dark outline of five fingers pressed against the inside of the shell. Her baby’s tiny hand.
The rest of the shell glowed from within, either blue or green depending on what angle she looked at it. It was as bizarre as it was beautiful.
“Have you thought about names?” Avery asked. She seemed as entranced by the egg as Raven was.
Gabriel fed Raven a bite of pasta. She chewed and swallowed before answering. “Not yet.”
Avery gave a low, breathy laugh. “Is he going to feed you the entire time?”
Raven grinned at her sister. “Maybe. Does it bother you?”
“Bothered is a strong word. I’ve just never experienced intimacy like this before. I can’t imagine anyone feeding me from their fingers.” Her wistful gaze latched onto Gabriel as he stroked Raven’s hair.
Gabriel smirked, his dark eyes leveling on her sister. “Maybe you need to date a different sort of man.”
It was intimate, but more than that, it was their bond. Raven sympathized. Alexander and Maiara were cuddled together in a chair made for one, painted into their own world. She and Gabriel were connecting over a meal. And although Tobias wasn’t currently in the room, he had a similar bond with Sabrina.
As a human, Avery would likely never experience the same. When dragons mated, they mated for life. She hoped her sister would know love one day, but even if she did, it would likely be different than hers and Gabriel’s.
Tobias came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel against his wet head. He’d been so covered in Raven’s blood he’d needed to shower. Thankfully, Willow had insisted on cleaning up the bedroom. Her heart warmed with gratefulness for the oread.