by Angie Fox
“Okay, well, maybe they hadn’t heard clearly.” Or maybe they wouldn’t tell. Or maybe I was just screwed.”
A sharp rap sounded outside.
I nearly jumped out of my skin until I saw it was Horace. “Petra, we have an emergency.”
Leta and I shared a glance.
He yanked open the door. “Medusa is in labor and she won’t come into camp. We’ve got her in Father McArio’s tent, but she’s not doing well at all. They need you there. Now.”
chapter nineteen
I pointed to Leta. “You stay here.” I never should have talked her into broadcasting to the dragons. I knew she was still recovering her powers. But damn it, we didn’t have time to wait. She’d looked good. She was talking fine. Damn it! I glanced up at the cloudless sky, half expecting the gods to come crashing down on top of us.
And now we were out of time. I headed back out, buckling my watch on my wrist.
“Horace,” I said, leaning back inside for my stethoscope, “I need you to go to the recovery tent. Get me a half-dozen surgical masks, two gowns, towels, hot water, an emergency field kit, a fetal heart rate monitor, and a Snickers bar.”
Yeah, I felt kind of bad using Medusa’s medical condition to get a Snickers bar, but cripes, it had been a long week.
And I needed breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever meal we were supposed to be having.
The sprite sped away and I began jogging toward Father McArio’s place, with Leta on my heels.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, nearly running into some supply clerks walking the other way. They looked overly pleased with themselves, and barely minded the jostle. I wondered what they’d been doing with our inspector friends.
Leta kept pace with me. “How are we going to fix the problem with the dragons?”
“Hell if I know.” I ventured another glance at the sky. At least we hadn’t been smited. Yet.
There was nothing to do, except, “You want to help deliver the child of the damned?”
She snarled, baring her teeth. “I will shift into a dragon and devour her!”
“Nope. You’re out,” I said, leaving the path, dodging graves as I headed through the cemetery. I’d have Horace send a nurse up.
I tried to think who. Most of the medical staff had been squeamish of the gorgon even in the early stages of her pregnancy, when she’d been happy. Nobody even pretended to get excited when she’d dropped by with thank-you finger cookies. Yes, the ingredients had been suspect and I didn’t actually eat them either. Still, the nurses could have at least pretended.
I held up near the entrance to the minefield.
Yes, Medusa’s child was bad news, but it was an innocent baby. It was my duty as a doctor and a decent person to give that child the best possible start in this world.
Then I noticed Leta was still next to me. “This is as far as you go.”
She visibly paled. “You can’t leave me to face Marc alone. He will be enraged.”
And then some. He’d told her point-blank she wasn’t ready to use her powers and we’d gone ahead and tried it anyway. In our defense, we were desperate.
We had to find something—anything—to turn this situation around. Besides, when you got down to it, at least it was our butts on the line and not his.
“Talk to him.” Marc was a smart guy. And a dragon. “I also want you to find Galen. Let him know Medusa’s in labor.”
She hesitated. “You love him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I told her. With all my heart.
She watched me for a long moment. “Will you hide with Medusa if the gods come for you?”
“Leta.” She knew as well as I did. “There’s nowhere to hide.”
* * *
By the grace of all that’s good, I made it through the minefield and down the path to Father McArio’s without tripping any pranks. We didn’t have time for me to be wrapped up in a giant spiderweb or fend off dozens of Hickey Horns.
His sculpture garden gleamed in the high midday sun. Father liked to work with junk metal, and he had quite a collection of pieces. Most of it consisted of birds and other winged creatures that appeared as if they’d take flight any second. As I drew closer, I saw dozens of very alive, very sinister-looking black vultures.
They rested on the sculptures and all along Father McArio’s roofline, their bald heads and narrow gazes following me. I didn’t let my guard down for a second, which meant I nearly tripped over the metal sculpture of Pegasus, lying battered on the ground. It seemed Medusa still held a grudge.
I opened the door to the hutch, sending a multicolored Talavera cross slapping against the wood. “What have we got?”
Father stood up from the stool at Medusa’s bedside. She was lying on his cot, with pillows piled behind her and at least two quilts over her.
“I’m burning up!” she said, flinging it all off. The gorgon’s breathing was labored, the snakes on her head twining as she turned to me. “Doctor! I need you.” She gripped Father’s arm as he tried to move away. “Get me another Popsicle.”
It was stifling in there. Fitz the hellhound had abandoned his post at Father’s side and was nosing frantically for my attention. “Has your water broken?” I asked, edging past the snorting beast.
She nodded. “Right in front of some hotshot hero who thought he was going to chop my head off.” Her taloned fingers trailed down her green-scaled torso, coming to rest on her bulging stomach. “Do you know how embarrassing that is?”
I doubt he’d lived to tell about it. “How far apart are your contractions?” I asked, unwinding the stethoscope from around my neck.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know.” She groaned as I pulled up a stool and listened to her heartbeat. “Time has no meaning on the Isle of Wrath and Pain.”
Fitz’s cold nose hit my elbow. Yeah, well, this place wasn’t exactly sterile.
Medusa was a little out of sorts, but that was to be expected. Her chest sounded fine. I’d have liked to have taken her blood pressure. “What do you say we get an orderly up here and take you down to the clinic?”
“No!” She turned on me, her eyes ringed with red. “I am not going to expose my baby to dragon pox.”
“You don’t have to worry,” I told her. “It’s just a camp rumor.” Started to keep the inspectors busy.
She hissed. “Of course dragon pox is real. I looked it up on the Internet. Symptoms are elevated breathing, thirst, dry eye, itchy arms … paranoia. I think I might already have it!”
“Gorgons can’t get it.”
“Supe MD didn’t say that.”
Lovely. Another Internet diagnosis. I tried another tack. “You may have some of those symptoms,” I told her, “but I gave you a full checkup at your baby shower and I can guarantee you, you don’t have dragon pox.”
“And I’m not going to get it either.”
“Fine.” Damn it, where was Horace? “We’ll deliver the baby here.”
She’d had a normal pregnancy. I wasn’t expecting any problems. I ignored Father as he went a little green around the gills.
He recovered nicely, though, handing Medusa a Go-Gurt.
“What is that?” I asked as she ripped open the wrapper.
“It’s a Popsicle,” he said, with an overly bright smile on his face.
“O-kay.”
“All the pregnant women get them,” Medusa said, slurping. “I read it online.”
I traded a glance with Father, who was nodding frantically. “So you get them too.” Right. Okay. Because I was willing to bet there wasn’t a Popsicle within a thousand miles from here.
Frankly, I was wondering how Father had gotten yogurt.
“Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?” Father asked. A wicked gleam shone in Medusa’s eyes before he waggled a finger at her. “No heads of your enemies on pikes.”
She sighed, settling back on the pillows. “It’s not like I wanted all of my enemies.”
“I know,” he said,
adjusting the blankets over her rattlesnake tail.
Medusa dropped her Go-Gurt, her teeth set in a snarl as she gripped her belly. “Eeeeeee-yeeee…!”
I timed her contraction as the lanterns above our heads swayed. The paperweights on Father McArio’s desk rattled, as did the pens in a St. Louis University mug nearby.
The blankets twined in her tail crinkled and began to fall apart. I watched, rooted to the spot, as they crumbled to dust.
“Gah!” She flung herself back down on the cot.
Holy hell. I shook my head. “Forty-eight seconds,” I said out loud, still not quite believing what I saw.
I’d tried to learn as much as I could about gorgon birth, but this wasn’t in any of the manuals. I sure hoped we weren’t in for any more surprises.
“Did that happen before?” I murmured to Father, as he found a broom and quietly went to work on the mess.
“Yes,” he said. “I have to give her credit, though, she tried to go easy on my Notre Dame stadium blanket.” He smiled at a lumpy greenish mass in the corner.
Maybe I’d have Horace bring me a pair of fireproof gloves. Just then the sprite banged in through the door, followed by two more orderlies with delivery supplies, baby monitoring equipment, and even one of those portable baby warmers.
“Thanks, Horace,” I said, as they started setting up.
“I’m not staying,” he answered, handing me a Snickers bar. It was obviously melted. We were in limbo. I didn’t care.
I shoved it in my pocket for later. “Did you get me a nurse?”
“No,” he said, in a way that brooked no argument. Damn. I wasn’t going to talk about this in front of Medusa. “What about Rodger?”
“In surgery.”
“Send for Galen.”
“Absolutely not!” Medusa shrieked. “I came here to see the professionals. Anyone else will be turned to stone.”
I rested my hands on my hips as Horace and the orderlies fled. “Did you have to do that?” I asked Medusa.
“Power has its privileges,” she said simply.
Nice.
She unwrapped another Go-Gurt while I pulled Father aside. “You’re staying, right?”
He glanced over my shoulder. “As long as our patient doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Good. Listen,” I said, unsure how to say what I had to tell him next. “Leta let my identity slip. And hers. She told every living dragon in limbo.”
“No,” he said softly.
“Yes.” He touched my arm and I almost wished he hadn’t because it made me want to sit down and cry.
It might not even matter anymore because I was about to deliver the baby that would damn everyone. It seemed everything I tried to do to make things better only made them worse.
Father shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
I shrugged off his grip, needing a little levity. “Fine load of help you are.”
It didn’t faze him. “I do know that things happen for reasons that we sometimes don’t understand.”
I smirked. “After everything we’ve seen here … You really believe that?”
“Yes,” he said, positively unwavering. “And there’s a reason you seek out my help. Deep down, you believe it too.”
I shook my head. I’d give my life for a pinkie’s worth of his faith. “Father, I—”
“Eeeee…!” Medusa shrieked behind me.
Father lurched backward. I went sideways. The ground shook so bad I had to grab on to the tent pole to stay upright. The cart rolled into the heart rate monitor and both of them crashed over.
“It’s coming!” she screamed as winds tore through the tent.
Merde. I hoped it was just the child of the damned and not the gods coming to smite me. The canvas crackled. Fitz was barking wildly. The door rattled on its hinges. Light poured in from around the corners as everything rumbled and shook.
“Hold on, Medusa. I’ve got you!” I said, taking one hard step after another into the driving storm. Dust stung my eyes and I forced myself to keep pushing forward even as the gorgon clutched the sides of the cot. She ground her teeth, the snakes in her hair standing on end.
I knelt in front of her and fought her gauzy skirt. Father averted his eyes as I made my exam.
“I can see the head.” She was fully dilated. Two or three good pushes and we should be good.
The winds died down and she leaned forward, panting. Sweat slicked her forehead and arms. “You can see my baby?”
I fought a grin. “She has hair like her mother.”
Medusa choked on a grin.
“We’re going to push on the next contraction, okay?”
She nodded.
“Father, can you get me some fresh towels? And your welding gloves,” I added, not taking my eyes off my patient. “You can do this, right?”
She blinked twice. “I want an epidural.”
“It’s too late for that, but the good news is this baby is coming fast.”
“My baby,” she said, panting.
“Yes,” I said, reaching up to squeeze her hand.
A knock sounded at the door and Horace burst in.
“Did you bring Rodger?” I asked, trying to see behind him. I’d even take Nurse Hume at this point.
“No.” Horace eyed Medusa like she was going to fry him on the spot. His attention shot to me. “We have bigger problems. The investigators are on the way.”
“Here?” Panic shot through me. “They’re coming here?”
Horace nodded frantically. “Thaïs is with them.”
This was it. Only I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t do anything.
“Run!” Horace shrieked before he zoomed away.
“Eeeee…” Medusa clutched her belly.
“Get me the gloves,” I said, hurrying toward her.
Winds streaked through the room. I clutched onto the bottom of the cot as it began sliding sideways. Father gripped my arm, shoving the gloves into my hands as the back wall of the tent blew out.
I shoved the gloves on as Father worked to keep the cot upright. Medusa screamed and sunlight blazed down as we lost the roof.
“She’s coming!” I screamed over the din. Baby snakes snapped at my gloves as I supported the head. “I want you to push!”
Medusa’s tail slammed against the side wall, taking it down. “It hurts!”
“On the count of three!” I told her.
“Ow-ow-ow!”
“One.” The cot lurched toward me as the bottom right leg snapped off. Father shoved a shoulder underneath, keeping it steady.
I could almost see the shoulders. “Two.”
“No!” she screamed.
Father reached out to take her hand, his shoulder still bearing the brunt of the lurching cot. Her talons dug into the skin on the top of his hand, drawing blood.
Driblets of sweat ran down my back. “Three!”
Medusa’s shriek shattered the lanterns.
I forced my hands steady, as my pulse pounded in my ears. “Push!” We almost had the baby’s shoulders free.
“Duck!” Father hollered as one of the boards from the ceiling swung down, crashing into the freestanding heart monitor.
Fists pounded on the door, never mind that we had two entire walls blown out. “Investigators. Open up!”
Fuck.
Not now. Heart in my throat, I ignored them. “One more push.”
“Argh!” Medusa flung her head back, her tail blasting through what was left of the side wall. “You said that the last time!”
“Go!” I ordered.
She stiffened, her growl shaking the tent.
Crash. The door fell in.
chapter twenty
Wind shrieked through the space. Thaïs stood front and center, flanked by two heavily armored investigators. The operatives wore head-to-toe red, with polished boots and the crest of the gods on each shoulder.
Sweet Jesus. I couldn’t deal with them right now.
My gloved fingers suppo
rted the baby’s head as a tiny asp from her hair wound around my thumb. This was what mattered. This baby. This life. I locked eyes with Medusa. “I’ve almost got her.”
“Halt!” Metal screeched against metal as one of the investigators pulled his sword. I glanced up. The other whipped out a roll of parchment from his coat, his back ramrod straight, his jowls sagging. “We have a warrant.”
“It’s going to have to wait,” I called above the winds, my clinical armor threatening to crack as Medusa geared up for another contraction.
She sat up on her elbows, body clenched, breath tight. “Get out!” She glared at the intruders, her hair twining. “Out! I command!” Her jaw clenched and her irises reddened.
Oh, no. Not now.
“Calm down!” I warned her. Stress was bad for the baby and there was no way for me to monitor what was happening with my equipment in pieces on the floor.
Medusa’s face was a mask of rage.
Padre and I shared a terrified glance. “Look away,” I warned.
He jammed his head against his chest and shut his eyes tight. I did the same, bracing myself as bright heat seared through the tent. My breath felt humid, my hands stiff as I kept them steady for the babe. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. I took deep, measured breaths, tasting the acrid stench in the air, trying desperately to stay focused despite the unmistakable crackling of flesh turning to stone.
My mind swam and my muscles ached as the heat died down.
“What is this?” Medusa demanded.
Neck stiff, I lifted my head to find the gorgon frowning at me.
She heaved, her face set in a snarl, but at least her eyes were back to normal. “Intruders are not in my birth plan.”
Mine either. I could only imagine the mess behind me, but I didn’t have time to look. The baby was coming fast.
“Okay,” I said to the gorgon. “Are you ready?”
She clutched the rails of the cot and looked at me like I was the one shooting curses out of my eyeballs. “It. Hurts.”
“I know. You’re doing great.”
I flexed my fingers. “One more time,” I said, as Father grappled with the bottom of the cot.
