Sacrifice

by Heather McCollum

  Drustan tore his gaze from Anna and looked at the frowning man, the man he hated, the man he could kill with a single touch. Murdock wouldn’t even know that he’d been poisoned, but he’d be dead within a week. Drustan narrowed his eyes.

  “You do not look like a vagrant,” Anna said and smiled at him. “And I’m an excellent judge of character.”

  Her words snapped Drustan away from his dark thoughts. “I was just leaving,” Drustan said, dragging his gaze from the face he knew better than his own. He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode down the hall before he interfered anymore. If he’d have killed Murdock right there, a prominent doctor in London, how many other lives would have suffered in the future?

  Drustan shut himself in the dark broom closet. He breathed deeply and concentrated on the only place he’d felt real love in his life, the time of his birth. This time he would watch Semiazaz closely. The man had raised Drustan, staying with him through the years of painful teasing and neglect. He spent every evening going over his plans with Drustan, how together they would win the final battle to control time. “You can stop yourself from being tainted,” he would say each night before Drustan fell asleep. “Your mother will love you, and you will no longer be a monster.”

  He rubbed a fist over his thumping heart as he stood again outside the cottage in the center of the ten standing stones. Was he a monster? Wouldn’t the act of killing billions make him even more so?

  ****

  Anna woke with a start, and for a moment she had absolutely no idea where she was. She flexed her feet under the blanket, stretching her cramping calves as she recalled a dream she’d had. No, it was a memory. She rolled to her side, teasing the details out of her groggy mind. Drustan had walked into a room at the hospital when Winston was trying to rebuke her for her rash comments to Newton and Bradley. How could she not have remembered that before? He’d been so beautiful in his quiet, fierce way.

  The sun was full and starting to descend in late afternoon. She pushed partway up to see the sketches scattered around her. The deep ache of worry returned. Her stomach grumbled through the silence, and the baby twisted and kicked. “Food, I know,” she said and slid her feet to the floor. She found her little leather shoes and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her. First urgency was the relieving of her bladder, then food, then…she wasn’t certain.

  The kitchen was definitely not barren. From the looks of it, she thought that Drustan might be expecting to come back soon. The bread was not moldy, though not terribly fresh either. She broke off a bit and nibbled it along with a chunk of cheese she found in a cabinet lined with stone to keep the contents cool. There were some root vegetables and onions in there as well. Perhaps she’d make some soup later.

  “Have you decided to move in then?” she asked herself. Perhaps that’s what she should do. Just wait for him to return. The Macleans, Drustan’s sister and Drakkina couldn’t reach her here since Drustan had warded the house, plus she was protected from the demons. Anna rested her hands on her stomach. Until she was forced to descend in search of food, she and the baby were safest right where they were.

  Her belly tightened, turning from flesh to granite under her splayed fingers. Then again, if she went into labor, being alone where no one could help her was not safe either. She breathed deeply, calmly until the vice loosened. Maybe she could leave him a letter, something explaining that she thought Semiazaz may have played a trick the night the stable collapsed. Anna glanced down at her stomach. “He doesn’t even know about you, does he?” The baby kicked gently as if to answer. Anna could not reveal someone so important by way of a sentence in a letter. She sighed heavily and pushed herself up to search for a piece of paper in the house, a leaf of paper that didn’t already depict her face.

  She found one in the den with a pencil. They slid from her fingers as another contraction tore across her from front, all the way around to her back. Her fingers curled into the molding as she sucked in air and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the boulder to change back into just a swollen belly. She pressed a fist into her lower back, kneading the ache. “That one was serious,” she panted. Perhaps she should ride back to Kylkern. The thought of facing that pain alone, when something could go wrong with the baby…. A shiver rippled through Anna. She needed to get to Matilda.

  Anna grabbed her blue wool cape from the couch and froze as another tightening immobilized her. Blast. She didn’t even have time to write the letter. She breathed large gulps of air and leaned against Drustan’s couch. Another pain grabbed her at the door. She sucked breath in through her clenched teeth, bringing a vibration to the whistled inhale. She was a first time mother. Shouldn’t labor come on gradually over hours, days? She took another step toward the trap door in the deck and clutched her round belly as it hardened again. Had the first contraction even subsided before the next one started?

  “Baby Girl, too fast,” she groaned. Everything about the baby was fast. Her conception, her growth, and now it looked like her birth. Would Anna survive it? And what would happen to the baby if she didn’t, stuck up in Drustan’s warded house where no one could reach her? Panic pressed Anna to drop to her knees. She must get down from the tree.

  Anna dangled her legs over the hole, and the world tilted. Her exhales hissed through her teeth, the noise something she could latch onto. The pain ebbed, but Anna knew another would be coming immediately. She flopped her foot downward in search of a rung. “I’ll need your help,” she whispered and hoped the baby wouldn’t allow her to drop.

  Below Mazy neighed. Anna could hear her dancing in the brush.

  “Anna?” Patricia’s voice flowed upward, washing her with utter relief.

  “Yes! I’m here,” she called. “And the baby is coming.”

  “Come down,” Patricia said. “I cannot help you up there.”

  Both of Anna’s feet found the rung, and she twisted from her back to her front. “I’m coming,” she yelled as another contraction squeezed through her, rendering her motionless on the swinging ladder.

  “Come down now,” Patricia said, her voice calm, demanding. Couldn’t her sister see she was immobilized by pain?

  The trees swayed around the clearing, and Mazy neighed again, backing away. Somewhere Tenebris growled. Could he turn against her, against the baby? But Anna couldn’t consider anything logically, not with agony wrapping around her from front to the back, a wide swath of coordinated cramping.

  “Get William,” Anna called. “I…can’t move…until…” She panted through her teeth, making the quick shhh sound over and over.

  “You must drop to the ground,” Patricia said. “I cannot touch the ladder. You are only a foot off the ground. Let go.”

  The cruel impatience in Patricia’s tone pushed tears to Anna’s eyes, the pain making her weak and emotional. Yet all she could do was breathe.

  “Now,” Patricia said, coming closer. Anna could hear her voice right over her shoulder. “I am here, but I can’t help you unless you step away from the ladder. It’s warded. Just drop. You’re so close to the ground.”

  Tenebris growled fiercely. Was Patricia frightened? Her sister didn’t know the wolf like Anna did. As the contraction ebbed, Anna lowered her foot to the next wrung.

  “That’s it,” Patricia urged. “One more step and you’ll be on the ground.”

  Anna realized her eyes were squeezed shut against the pain. With each contraction, it was harder to stand. Her legs trembled, and her arms tingled from hyperventilating. Fingers numb, she didn’t think she could hold onto the rope ladder any longer.

  “Yes,” Patricia coaxed. “Step off, and I’ve got you.” Her voice sounded right near Anna’s ear. Why didn’t she just grab her? Couldn’t she see that Anna needed help?

  “Matilda,” Anna panted. “I need…”

  “Step off!” Patricia yelled.

  Anna opened her eyes and stepped down, her numb hands giving way. Without strength Anna couldn’t do anything but fall, her gaze wi
de as she realized that Drustan’s deck was only a foot above her head. She sucked in a frantic breath, the foul tang of death on the breeze. A scream tore through Anna as she rushed toward the hard, root-gnarled ground.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My mother is a blowfish.

  Drustan held the bouquet of wildflowers he’d gathered as a gift while he watched through the tiny cottage window. Gilla blew her cheeks out as she strained from her position on a bed of draped blankets over the center slab. A young Serena mopped their mother’s sweat-drenched forehead as Merewin brought a stack of clean, dry rags to the woman watching between Gilla’s bent knees.

  “I see the head,” the woman said and wiped her forearm across her brow. The woman shook her head. “Birthing on a table.”

  “It’s a magic table,” one of the young twins called from the corner where Druce paced. “We’ve all been born there.” With each of Gilla’s grunts and groans, Drustan’s father looked over and paused, his eyes too round. His hands were fists, but then the other twin came over, wrapping her arms around his leg.

  “Up,” she said, and he lifted her. She patted his cheek and offered him a smile.

  Drustan’s focus turned back to his mother. She sucked in her cheeks and then pushed them out again, straining upright, almost into a sitting position. Pain and determination warred against each other across her tight face.

  Drustan funneled his magic in through the window, just a tendril else someone might notice. He focused on the images and feelings in Gilla’s mind, searching for the emotion behind the watery sharpness of her eyes. Did she love him? Did she despise him for the pain of his birth? He’d been more difficult than his sisters with his accelerated growth.

  As he connected with his mother’s mind, Drustan nearly doubled over with the pain. His hand snapped the stems of the blue cornflowers. He inhaled, forcing his focus past it, deeper into Gilla’s thoughts. She counted. One, two, three, four…all the way up to ten as fast as she could before starting over again. The focus was intense, completely absorbed with a goal, the goal of seeing her little child.

  Drustan couldn’t breathe as a feeling so strong, stronger than the pain, enveloped him. It went beyond the human need to create other humans. This feeling—it held images of little hands, tiny toes, a soft head nestled in her hand. It smelled of sweetness and innocence. It felt of smooth skin and warm touches. It promised giggles and hugs and handpicked wildflowers.

  Gilla strained, splitting her body open, yet loving him with every ounce of her being. A mother’s love, untainted by the pain, free of judgement, happy to sacrifice her body in exchange for a fragile little life.

  Drustan stood there, unbreathing, frozen in awe, and something far greater as he realized that yes, indeed, he had definitely been loved. He would go inside, bring the flowers, save his family. He would change the past, give himself a chance at a real life.

  Drustan heard his earthly first breath, followed by little bellows, but turned away, his eyes going to the forest. A bubble of pain seemed to search along a thread to him, calling to him, begging for his attention. It burst inside his chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Anna,” he murmured, barely able to draw breath. As Gilla had battled through her pain, he fought his way through his, opening his eyes. “Hold on.”

  ****

  Voices echoed in high and low pitches like sounds in an empty surgery room. Sharp and tinny. Anna hurt, but kept her eyes closed. She followed one of the voices like a bird after an insect until she was able to focus enough to understand.

  “You could have let her just fall.” Murmurs in a deeper voice. “None of us caught her? Then who did?”

  Another female voice spoke in a lower octave. “We could kill her and the babe now, before everyone arrives.”

  The words whipped the rest of the fog from Anna’s mind. She held still, draped on something hard, her arm hanging off, prickling with near numbness.

  “Drustan would know,” a deep voice answered.

  “What does that matter?” another said, disdain evident in his near growl.

  “It matters through the final battle with the witches. After that, not so much.” That voice was familiar. Anna could imagine the long snaking beard Semiazaz favored.

  The baby moved within her, bringing on the familiar ache, wrapping around her middle to her back. Anna stifled a groan, but the voices stopped. They knew she was awake. Instinctively, Anna clutched her hardening stomach. Her eyes blinked open, and the images righted themselves before her, around her. Drustan’s demons.

  “Nonsense,” Semiazaz said, his white beard rolled down the front of him like a frothy waterfall. “Anna Pemberlin is to be our queen. We would protect her for our Lord Drustan.”

  Anna wasn’t sure which demon had suggested the murder, but several of them looked toward the cat-like woman staring back at her with hate-filled, slitted eyes.

  Anna struggled to sit up, but another contraction tore through her. She breathed as they stared, black bulbous eyes, sharp teeth in open, drippy maws, horns, snakes. She looked away and realized she sat upon the granite slab in the middle of the ten soaring stones. Where she’d first seen Drustan, the arena for the final battle, and the prophesized place she would give birth. Panic gripped her, but she managed to keep her words coherent. “How did I get here? What happened?” Her gaze snapped around the forest outside the stones. Where was everyone?

  “You fell from the ladder,” Semiazaz said low, like he was talking to a patient in the mental ward.

  Anna whipped her head around to face him. “You tricked me into falling. You said I was near the ground. I thought you were my sister.” It all came back. Patricia’s impatient tone, Mazy’s fear, even Tenebris tried to save her with his growling. But what could one animal do against twelve powerful demons and a wizard corrupted by evil?

  “You need to take that from her mind,” the cat-demon hissed. “He’ll see it.”

  “Drustan can’t read her mind,” a horned demon said.

  “She’ll tell him.”

  Semiazaz held up one hand. “No, she won’t.”

  Anna watched the sly man. What could he say that would keep her quiet? More threats? She held her chin high.

  “Queen Anna, once Drustan wins this battle, he will need a council to deal with all the souls he brings back when we snip certain temporal threads. You’ve said it yourself. If the killing of millions is left to him, it will change him, corrupt his heart that you so value.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” she gritted out and panted as another contraction escalated.

  Semiazaz’s bushy eyebrows rose over his eyes. “If he kills all of us in anger, humanity will overrun the planet, killing itself off in terrible, panic-filled ways. He needs us to do his dirty work, Anna. You guard his heart, and we will handle the rest. Besides, after you slipped, we were the ones to save you.”

  Anna didn’t believe that for a second. Baby Girl probably saved them both. Anna slid her hand down her belly, resting between contractions. “I will need a healer to help me. Matilda Maclean or Merewin, Drustan’s sister.” Her words fell fast upon each other as another contraction climbed.

  “In good time,” Semiazaz said, and the agony made it impossible to respond.

  Anna lay on her side, her knees drawn up to take the pressure off her back. The granite was hard and cold under her. She didn’t have her cape, and she shivered. Closing her eyes, Anna prayed.

  Lord, help me, please help my baby. Please send Drustan to me.

  Wind whipped through the stones, a twisting cyclone of mist. “Anna,” boomed Drustan’s voice as he coalesced into his body. A wave of relief washed away the dryness of lonely panic that ran under Anna’s skin. Drustan. Large, powerful, beautiful Drustan. She soaked in the image of him. Her pulse raged, and her fingers trembled as she brought them to her swollen body.

  He ran directly to her, clutching a large bouquet of wild cornflowers, their cheerful blue faces bending at their broken stems. He dropped
them, next to her on the slab as his gaze raked down Anna to stop on her enlarged belly. “By Lucifer,” came out on a hushed breath.

  “No,” Anna said. “By you.” She panted but managed to speak. “You did this and then left.” Tears flowed out the corners of her eyes. “I even went to your home, but you were gone.” She didn’t even bother to stop the salty paths. She groaned as hot liquid wet her thighs under the layers of her dress. Her birthing waters. “Drustan, I’m giving birth now, here.” She glanced around and shivered. “On a rock.”

  “It’s a table,” he murmured. “A magic table.” He swung around. “Find blankets for your queen.”

  The title sent a shiver through Anna. Did he still plan to conquer his sisters, cut the temporal threads? “Drustan?” Anna breathed.

  He took her hand. “The baby, he grew quickly, like I did.”

  She nodded and breathed through her teeth. “It’s a girl. Our daughter.” Her eyes widened as she tried to see past him. “Don’t let them hurt her.”

  He laid his hand on her hard belly, and looked back at Semiazaz. “You’ve been wrong before, about my mother. She did love me. I’ve been there. I saw.” His eyes narrowed at the wizard as he swallowed hard, his jaw tense.

  Semiazaz floated closer, his face tense, determined. “You’ve seen the prophecy, too. For us to win the day, you know what must be done. The child’s powers outweigh your own. But you can bring her back when you rule time. The world will be right and safe for her.”

  “Bring her back?” Anna’s scream came out as a stifled huff with her contraction. She grabbed Drustan’s hand, squeezing, her nails biting into his flesh. “What does he mean, bring her back?”

  Drustan cupped her flushed cheek with his free hand, rubbing his thumb against it. Heavy emotion sat in his eyes. “I will fix everything, Anna. I promise. I will create a new life for us. I saw my mother, my sisters, my father. I will remake my life, and you will be with me. We will have our baby. It will be perfect.”