by E A Comiskey
Alma stopped so abruptly I almost crashed into her.
Over her shoulder, I saw four little cabins in a row. A man stood there, holding a basket full of wet clothes while a woman took them out one at a time and hung them over a rope. A baby in a sling was wrapped tight against her back.
Wolf came up next to me, his lips pulling back from his teeth.
"Be still," I told him. He sat, but the fur on his back did not lay down.
Without allowing myself time to consider my action, I poured out waves of intention. This is our home. It was promised to us, and we are welcome here. You have to welcome us or there will be blood shed. Welcome us to our home. Be one with our little family. Bring whomever is here with you and pledge allegiance to Hala. Believe in his Goodness. This place was given to him.
The man set the basket down and moved toward us, keeping a wary eye on Wolf. "Name's Wyatt. I got the feeling you mean us no harm."
"That's true," I said.
His eyes widened and focused on my hands.
"My greatest wish is to live in peace, all my days. Will you come and meet my…" I stopped. My what? Lover? Protector? Surrogate father? "Come and meet Hala. He leads us."
"There are twelve of us here. We would all like to come with you and welcome you to the valley."
Wave after wave of pure desire flowed from me into the people who emerged from the little houses. By the time we returned to camp I was exhausted, ready to collapse. The people of the valley, though, were smiling and eager.
I saw Hala reach for the gun in his waistband when we emerged from the trees, but at the sight of the happy villagers, he relaxed. The power of his Gift had a visible effect on them, eagerness slipping into bliss as they drew nearer.
I did not stay for introductions, but slipped away to where the wagon was and, crawling up onto it, I made a pillow of a bag of clothes and gave myself over to sleep. At some point, Alma snuggled up with me and we slept there through the night.
In the morning, Hala emerged from Risa's tent, bright eyed and smiling. I watched him set out, making a wide circle with slow, deliberate steps. I followed his progress as he disappeared into the distant trees, reappeared on the other side of the wood, and crested a small hill, never breaking his careful stride.
On silent feet, I slipped away from the camp. Going the opposite direction from where he'd begun, I intercepted him in a shady meadow at the base of a steep hill. Sunlight teased the earth in tiny patches shaped like diamonds and squares. The flowers turned their faces Heavenward in praise. A stream trickled through the center of them, on an unending mission to join with the river.
Hala saw me. His steps quickened. He lifted me in his arms and spun me around, kissed me, and held my face between his strong hands.
"We found it, Jax. This is exactly the place I saw in my dreams, right down to the crooked old oak tree over there."
"This is where our child will be born," I said.
I'd never seen him so happy. "Yes! We'll build a great kingdom here, and he'll grow up to rule it with wisdom."
"What makes you think it will be a boy?"
He chuckled. "I told you. I've seen him. I've seen that little dark-haired, brown-eyed boy lying beneath the crooked oak. I've seen it all."
I swallowed hard. "He's on his way, Hala."
"It means more than I can say that you have always believed in me." He kissed me again, soft and sweet. Tasting my lips. Playing with them.
I backed away. "I do believe in you, but this time I'm not just going on faith. The baby is on the way."
The blood drained completely away from his face. It was the first time I'd ever seen him look pale. "You're sure?"
I nodded. "My time should have come with the new moon. Now there is a crescent, and it's still not here."
He pressed his hands to my face again and, as he had the day before on the hilltop, he sank to his knees. His strong arms wrapped around my waist. He buried his face in my stomach, and his body shook with sobs.
My own tears were locked up within me. I clung to him, afraid I would grow to forget what it was to be loved by this extraordinary man.
Twenty-One
Perhaps some women were made ill by pregnancy, but I was starving all the time, and my plate was empty.
"Don't get up," Hala said, anticipating my second helping. "I'll get it for you."
"She's pregnant, Hala. She's not an invalid," Risa snapped. "You needn't serve her quite so lavishly."
His eyes narrowed on her. "No woman has ever served more lavishly than the one who would offer her body and her child for another. The least I can do is bring her some dinner."
Risa grew rigid next to me, saying nothing more as her match served me the finest remaining cut of meat. A moment later, she left without saying anything, so far as I knew.
I met James' eyes over the fire. He was obviously curious, but never asked us about what was happening between us.
The next day I went to him. "Let me help you," I said. "I can swing an axe as well as anyone." I picked the axe up and looked around for an opportunity to prove myself.
He laughed. "Hala would have my hide if I let you do any kind of hard labor. I don't have it in me to pick a fight with a demon." He lifted one end of a log longer than two men and dragged it to lay in line next to several others. Even in the chilly morning air, a bead of sweat trickled from his hair, down the side of his face.
I set down the axe and picked up a measuring tape.
He glanced at me sideways and strode away to grab the next log. When he drew near again, he said, "Even if I give you an easy job, like measuring, this isn't the safest place in the camp. Builders get hurt all the time. It's easy to make a mistake and, in this work, mistakes leave people injured or worse." He moved away again.
I dropped the tool and ran to him, grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me. "If you don't give me something to do with my time I will go crazy. I'll die."
He sighed. "You need to escape from the drama."
"You have no idea."
"You want some distraction."
"Anything. Wear me out so I can sleep at night."
He sighed again. I could feel him relenting. His shoulders sagged. "Hala is going to kill me."
"I'll protect you."
"Oh, thank God. The tiny pregnant woman is going to keep me safe." He laughed. "Alright. Stick around. I'll find something for you to do, but I expect you to jump in front of me the very second the demon comes back from wherever it is he's run off to today.
I flexed my pathetic muscles.
"Very encouraging."
I touched my chin with my fingertips and extended it outward. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I know what it is to be desperate to distract your mind."
~*~
As it turned out, Hala was too distracted to be upset about me working with James. When we returned to camp, we found him and Risa sitting with Charlotte and Peter. Though the little group that had joined us claimed no leaders, these two were surely the head of the family. Their soft white hair and lined skin spoke of their great age, but their strong backs and steady hands told of their strength and remaining vitality.
"…a vision," Charlotte was saying. "We are ready to throw our lot in with that, but we're not sure there is any point in moving too quickly. Why provoke the Fae, when they are on the hunt for settlements with powerful technology? Give it a year. See what happens. Perhaps the situation in the east will settle down."
Hala leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes burning embers in the growing twilight. "I was brought to this place at this time. Let the Fae come if they will. That Which Is is on our side."
"That Which Is only fights on behalf of man in bedtime tales."
Hala chuckled. "You think so?"
I caught Risa's eye, and we shared a smile. These people had no idea how far back Hala's memory ran. What was a bedtime tale to them was practically a childhood memory for him.
"If you lack faith, I will have fa
ith enough to carry you forward. We will build, and it will be the greatest city this world has ever known."
As one, they jumped, turning toward the east with wide eyes. I followed their gaze, curious to see what had drawn it. Dragon stood there, Stella beaming at his side. Each of them carried a child on their back, and their eldest peeked out from behind his mother's legs. "Sounds like you might be looking for a builder," Dragon said with a grin.
Hala leaped to his feet, embracing his friend. In a flurry of activity the newcomers were welcomed, hugged, kissed, introduced, and offered food.
Stella pressed her hand against the swell of my stomach. "Congratulations are in order."
I wished I could hear her tone. Was it a statement or a question?
Risa laid her hand over Stella's. "Yes. That Which Is has finally given Hala and me a child. It seems all he predicted is coming true."
A frown flitted across Stella's brow, but she said no more about the baby.
The dragon's shadow fell across our group, and Hala pointed. "My lucky beast approves!"
Wolf licked the face of the child tugging on his fur.
The sadness that never seemed to leave me anymore shifted into aching loneliness. In all this joy, was there a place for me?
Twenty-Two
I spread my blanket on the earth near the river and lay under the full moon, rubbing my hand over my belly. Wolf settled nearby, keeping his eye on the night around us. I spent my days working at James' side, too busy to care that we could not really speak while working. Grateful, actually, for the solitude. We usually ate in the homes of the villagers. Laughter, chatter, commotion, the tears of children, and talk of the future swirled around me, but rarely seemed to touch me.
Risa stayed at Hala's side. Always her hand was on his arm, resting on his thigh, playing with the end of his braid. When she wasn't glued to him, she was with me. "How do you feel? How's the baby? You're working too hard. Be careful what you eat."
Hala watched during these moments, but said little.
At night, I left the group behind. Loneliness hurt less when I wasn't surrounded by people. Most nights, I fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, but that night, under the full moon, the baby danced in my womb and sleep eluded me.
My thoughts drifted backward in time. Donovan placed me in Hala's arms. Hala sat on my bedside, watching over my healing. Hala watched in wonder as the gloves gave me words. Hala stood outside the shower on the boat, his eyes a physical weight on my body. Hala cried out in the moment of ecstasy, his face lit by the flicker of candles. Hala wept against my belly when I told him about the baby.
As though summoned from my thoughts, he appeared out of the trees. I lay unmoving, watching as he drew near with slow, steady steps. Slow and steady, like everything he did. He moved across the earth as one that had all of eternity at his disposal. When I was dead and gone a thousand years, he would still be as strong and beautiful as he was that day.
How long would Risa be at his side? How many generations of descendants would she see spring up from the baby whose movements kept me awake if she raised him as her own?
He sank down next to me. "You're awake."
"The baby is restless." I took his hand and pressed it to my stomach. His eyes widened, a delighted smile lighting his face.
"He's strong!"
I nodded.
"How do you feel?"
I rolled my eyes.
"What?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Because that's what you're supposed to ask expectant mothers."
I chewed my lip. Did he suspect my intentions to mother this child? "Why are you here, Hala?"
"I’m checking on you." He brushed my hair away from my face, letting his fingers trail down my cheek to my jaw.
"I'm fine."
"I check on you every night, you know. After Risa falls asleep."
No. I didn't know.
His eyes lit the darkness. His beautiful eyes. I dove into them, swimming in the love they evoked. My mind longed to tell him to go away, leave me alone, return to his match and let me find my peace. My heart would have no part of that.
Funny, I had the power to bend others to my will, and yet I was helpless to force myself to follow the path that I knew was best for me. Being loved by him felt too good. I was helpless to push him away.
He lifted my shirt and bent, pressing his lips to my stomach, my ribs, my breasts. I clung to him.
When it is over I will tell him this is the last time, I promised myself.
But when it was over I let him hold me in his powerful arms, and I slept there and dreamed of being a queen.
In the morning, he was gone. I sat on the earth alone, crying in grief over the mess I’d made of the chance I’d been given. Above me, the dragon circled.
Twenty-Three
I supported the door while James nailed the strong, wide leather straps that would act as hinges to the frame. He stepped back, let go, and grinned, hands on his narrow hips.
“It’s done, Jax. We did a fine job of it, too, if I do say so myself.” He held out a hand and shook mine.
The scent of fresh-sawn wood tickled my nose. Light streamed through the open shutters, illuminating the shimmering dust motes in the air. I walked through the rooms, running my fingertips over the surfaces I’d spent hours polishing with rough sand until they gleamed like satin.
In the months we’d worked on this place, my hands had grown calloused from the work. It gave me immense pleasure to know that I’d helped create something so lovely and good. There was great satisfaction to be had in useful manual labor. The space was warm and clean and secure. It was a beautiful home.
“You built it. You should get first pick of rooms,” James said.
There were two bedrooms, nearly identical. Everyone knew Hala, Risa, the baby, and I would share this house. No one knew what that arrangement would look like.
I pointed to the room on the east side of the house. I would have the sun shine on me in the morning.
“Wait here,” he said. “I have something for you.”
He disappeared, and I walked through the house one more time, loving the way the breeze moved through the open spaces.
James came back, hefting a bulky load through the door. He carried it into the east bedroom and set it down there.
It was a beautiful oak cradle with tiny winged angels carved all around the edges.
Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to put the cradle in the other room.
“It’s beautiful.”
He laid a hand on my shoulder, the first time he’d actually touched me as far as I could remember.
“This isn’t my business, and I’ll acknowledge that right up front. Also, I swear I’ll never say another word about it after this, but I won’t be able to sleep at night if I don’t say it once.
“I don’t know what arrangements you've made with them or why, but I know this. You are one of the kindest, bravest, hardest-working women I’ve ever known in my life. You’ll be a damned fine mother, and Hala is a fool if he underestimates you.
“If you stay here, and things stay as they are… with you being… his…” He fished for the right word. I waited, heart in my throat to see what he would say, but he left it there, unfinished.
“Just don’t be a slave to the past. Whatever was said; whatever was promised; there’s no shame in re-negotiating. This community will back you up. We’ll all support you, whatever you decide. Or… well… I will. And I’ll do everything in my power to see to it the others do as well.”
Silent tears rolled down my cheeks. I had no words to answer him. It was impossible to imagine what he spoke of: living here in this place, raising my child alone in the shadow of Hala and Risa. It was impossible to imagine anything else. The future was nothing; a smear of grey against an unpainted canvas.
~*~
I was too far along in my pregnancy to be any real help to James. I spent my days setting up t
he new house and reading the books that James had carried with him in the wagon: stories of boy wizards and monsters brought to life by mad scientists. They made me laugh while I read them, but at night I tossed and turned in a nightmare land where magic and science blended into a power that took on life of its own, destroying everything in its path.
Hala worked at Dragon's side from dawn to dusk, and often into the night, laying out the town and digging foundations for the buildings, all arranged in neat squares around a central public area.
James showed them how to build generators like the one in the river near his old house.
Stella knew how to form the little bulbs from glass and silver wire.
By mid-summer, the lights were on.
I stayed up long past sunset, next to the lamp in my room, writing in the leather book Morgan had given me a lifetime ago. I couldn’t bring myself to recount more than the briefest mention of the days with my father. Even the current loneliness was nothing compared to the soul-twisting horror of that time.
Hala shared a bed with Risa. If he still checked on me at night, I knew nothing of it.
Nomads came, drawn by the bustle of construction.
“The Fae will destroy this place,” their leader said, shaking her head as she watched two men string wires from the generator to a forge where steel would be shaped to form the trappings of modern life.
The muscle in Hala’s jaw jumped. “Let them try. That Which Is has ordained this city. It cannot be stopped.”
I looked away from him, at the men working. Most carried guns in holsters on their hips.
The shadow of the dragon passed over them, and I shivered.
Something he said, or maybe the power of his Gift, persuaded them to stay. The tents of the nomads filled the forests. An old woman among them taught me to knit clothes for the baby.
