by Cait Ashwood
Well. That’s new. Audrey knew each of the women that chose to be active for the summer solstice. Herself, Gwyn, Josie, Leana, the black-haired girl that still didn’t like her, and four of the other younger half-breeds. These were women that believed in the future, and while they might not always agree with each other, Audrey was starting to look at them as her core group. These were the movers and the shakers in the Order, and they’d be the ones to usher in the future, with any luck.
With the women silent, Tops cleared his throat, towering above them. “Ladies, I’m grateful to be here today. Whether or not you have a new life growing within you, I appreciate and honor the sacrifice of your bodies, one you make to ensure the survival of humanity and the continuation of your line.”
Audrey blinked at him. That didn’t sound like something Tops would say at all. Behind him, she caught Ace winking at her. Ah. That explains it. At least the commander was listening to his advisors. Seeker leadership was a complicated thing these days, due in part to the fact that Audrey and Hound had not made any public declarations of status as far as their relationship was concerned. The First Seeker was the partner of the First Lily, and at the moment, Audrey had no formal partner. As such, both men were sharing the duties, something she got the sense Hound appreciated. His standing with the men was still shaky, even though he was now free of the taint. They might never fully trust him again, and Audrey was more aware than ever exactly the kind of impact her decisions had on the world as a whole.
Despite pressure on all sides, Audrey had refrained from making any public announcements as far as her partner went. She’d been too busy between the demands of the Order and the twins to spend much time with either man, though she saw them in passing often enough. Ace came to spend time with the twins when he had time, and Hound kept her updated on happenings outside the tower. Zeche had been rather conspicuously absent, something Audrey asked Hound to look into.
Today was the day. If she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t wanted to decide, much less make an announcement, until she knew if she was pregnant. Not that she wanted to rope Hound into a relationship simply because of a baby, but it would open the door to that conversation. No, it was more a sense of guilt that held her back. Hound was who she wanted, but he wasn’t the best choice for the Seekers. If they’d managed to conceive, choosing him would alleviate some of her guilt at her selfishness.
Audrey glanced up at Deuce, who was approaching her with a faint smile on his face. Terror filled her. I don’t want to know. I’m not ready yet. Her eyes raced to Hound, who was pale and didn’t look much better than she felt. What if he doesn’t even want to be a father?
She swallowed, standing stock still as Deuce paused in front of her. It had been easy not to be nervous leading up to the event; she was too busy to obsess about things that hadn’t happened yet. Now that the moment was upon her, she felt like the proverbial deer in the headlights.
Deuce’s smile fell, and Audrey knew her face must be giving her away. Again.
“Please. Just get it over with.” Was that hoarse, raspy thing her voice? She cleared her throat, looking away. She couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer. She wanted to rip it off like a band-aid, quick and vicious. Around the room, other medics were pairing up with women, their eyes glowing green as they examined their patients. One paused in front of Gwyn and Audrey’s eyes drifted to Ace. He’d gotten some of his joviality back since the Order’s rescue, but now he watched with a solemn gaze, his face a careful mask.
“Congratulations Audrey,” Deuce paused, turning behind him to address his former leader, “and Hound. You are expecting.”
She couldn’t breathe. Fearful, her pulse hammering in her ears and making her dizzy, she looked at Hound, not at all sure what his reaction was going to be. As if aware of this, Deuce moved off to another woman.
Audrey was vaguely aware of Ace breaking into a huge grin and walking over to Gwyn. The brown eyes staring back at her, however, were wide with terror, the whites showing around the iris. Hound held himself perfectly still, his breathing quick and shallow. He was ready to run.
She turned away and walked blindly to a window. She couldn’t bear to see it. Her heart was already breaking—she didn’t need a visual memory of him fleeing the tower to replay in her nightmares for the rest of her life. Audrey swore she was breathing, but it was like none of the oxygen was reaching her. Her head swam and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself, the world taking vertigo-inducing spins around her.
What did I expect? Things had been wonderful on the solstice, but ever since he’d been somehow distant. He’d show up physically, keep her informed, but emotionally he’d been somewhere else. He’d perfected blocking her from the mark, and while it had stung, she’d held out some sort of vain hope that he’d come around, given time. Hound was fiercely independent, and with the mark being cemented, he lost not only a bit of himself to her, but his privacy.
“I didn’t conceive, either.”
Audrey glanced over at Amelina, surprised that she had to blink away tears before she could see the woman properly. “Oh, I did conceive.” Audrey sniffed, a vain attempt at regaining some of her composure. The world was still spinning, though it slowed down enough for her to focus on details. “But I am sorry you did not. There’s always the equinox if you plan to try again.”
Amelina stared at her for a long moment, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’m not sure I’ll be offered the chance.”
Focusing on someone else would only delay the inevitable, but right now, in public, Amelina’s problems were a welcome life vest. “What do you mean?”
Amelina had the grace to look uncomfortable. “He promised he’d claim me come the solstice, to keep me from being shared among the other Seekers. We got out, but he never rescinded the offer. I…” Amelina ran a hand through her raven black hair, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Deuce was otherwise occupied, “I feel like I forced him.”
Audrey blinked, not sure what to make of that. If she knew anything about Deuce, it was that he would have refused if he truly wanted to. Whether that was the right thing to say to Amelina, however, she didn’t know. “Time will tell, I suppose.” That was a non-committal enough answer, right? Deuce kept things close to his chest; it was his specialty.
Amelina snorted. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She glanced over her shoulder, checking on the men’s position again. “What’s with the long face, then? Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”
“I—” Audrey exhaled slowly. “I need a drink, and I can’t have one.” She couldn’t sense Hound’s presence at all now, and very much doubted she’d see him outside of an official capacity in the future.
“Spooked the first-time dad, huh?”
“Lina, I’d really rather not,” she paused, blinking back tears furiously and forcing her throat to open enough to continue talking, “talk about it right now.”
“Oh heavens, you love him.” Her words lacked her trademark cynicism, instead sounding of the particular brand of awe one felt in the moments before the loss of a loved one sunk in. It was oddly appropriate.
Audrey wiped at her eyes impatiently. “I have a family—” she paused, eyes on Gwyn and Ace, who were smiling shyly at each other, both awkward as teenagers, “—err, my children to keep me company. If you’ll excuse me.”
Audrey cried for hours, curled in the fetal position on her bed. Her head throbbed any time she tried to move, so she’d given up. She’d drawn the curtains and had no clue what time it was, alone in the dark. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, so it wasn’t like she had them open and looking at anything.
Such a stupid girl. One solstice does not a relationship make. But he’d kissed her in the Grove, acknowledged her feelings for him. And then all the effort he’d put into the solstice, the pillows, the lanterns, the romantic feel of the evening. Didn’t that mean something? It didn’t matter how many times she replayed the scenes in her head, how many times she analyzed every infle
ction of his voice. All she was doing was spinning herself around in circles. She wanted it to stop, was begging for it to stop, but her brain took great pleasure in continuing to torture her. She’d pay someone to take a club to her head at this point, just to give her a few hours of peace.
She almost didn’t hear the knocking at her door. Go away. Unless someone’s dying, I don’t want to hear about it. The part of her that was a mother, however, couldn’t send the knocker away. What if her children needed her?
She stumbled out of bed, one foot getting caught in the blankets. She kicked her foot, then became irrational with rage when her foot only became more entangled. She grabbed the blanket and pulled viciously, launching all the bedclothes off the bed. Throw pillows flew everywhere, and it wasn’t destructive enough to assuage her.
The knock came again.
“I’m coming, damn it.” Her chest heaved, and she had the brief thought to stop at her vanity and attempt to look presentable. Fuck it. Let the outside mirror the inside for once, eh?
She wrenched the door open, eyes widening slightly to see Amelina standing on the other side. The woman held a tray of soup and toasted bread, complete with what appeared to be watered wine.
“You look like shit.”
Audrey grunted. “I feel like shit.”
A hint of something akin to sympathy was in Lina’s eyes. “You should eat. You going to let me in?”
On some level, Audrey realized they were both hurting. The woman was generally nothing but a thorn in her side, but maybe this would turn over a new leaf between them. At this point, Audrey’s give a fuck meter was completely empty. The woman wanted to invite herself to hell? Who was she to tell her no? “Yeah, sure.” She stood aside and opened the door wide enough to let Lina in. She fumbled on the side table until she managed to get a candle lit, then shielded the flame as she walked around the room, lighting enough of the lamps to provide decent light.
To her credit, Amelina didn’t mention the wrecked bed or the pillows thrown everywhere. She took the tray to the table as if everything were perfectly normal. Attempting to act human, Audrey took a seat at the table and waited while Amelina got comfortable.
“Was quite the drama bomb after you left.”
I’m sure it was. “How many others are carrying?” Drama didn’t interest her. What she needed was numbers. They could always change, of course, but it would be a start.
“Gwyn and Josie. That’s all this time around.” Amelina’s gaze was wary, but Audrey shrugged her off.
“You haven’t had much time on the surface to get your health back. I’m sure it will improve in the future.” Three out of eight certainly wasn’t heartening, but Audrey was relieved that Gwyn had managed to conceive. Her line was pure, and if everything went well, there would be four children born with strong bloodlines. Rowan would have his own role to play, as his blood was strong enough to continue breeding the taint out of the Order’s lines. Whatever else he might be when he got older, Audrey knew he’d be called upon at least to serve in that manner. My children. Creatures to be bred.
Audrey swallowed back bile, shaking her head at her inner thoughts. She was already in a low enough place without dwelling on how she’d cursed her children with her blood.
“Eat.”
Audrey reached for the bread without enthusiasm, her eyes on the uneven edge of slate serving as her table top. She ate mechanically, more because she knew she needed to than anything else. Her head still ached something fierce, and she almost wished it didn’t. This was the least antagonistic Lina had ever been, and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
“Did you have any children?” Audrey had spent nearly a week going over every woman’s heritage and determining who was related to whom. She knew Amelina didn’t have any living children, at least that they’d rescued.
Lina glanced up, looking surprised. “All boys.”
That meant they’d been fighters. “I’m sorry.”
The woman shrugged, tearing off a small chunk of toast for herself. “Nya’s boy? He’s actually mine.”
Audrey glanced up, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “She said she was the mother.”
“Zad gave him to her.” It was said simply, but spoke volumes about the kind of life they’d led down there.
Slowly, Audrey nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll correct the records.” Unless… “Did you want me to—”
“No!” Lina shouted, looking the closest to panicked Audrey had ever seen her. She cleared her throat and smoothed her robes with her hands. “No. She’s been raising him. He may as well be hers. Getting old enough to tell the difference, now.”
Audrey swallowed. So much loss. At least they have a chance at building something for themselves. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but it was something.
The women ate in silence, sharing the meal lost in their own thoughts. A timid knocking at the door pulled them out of their reverie.
“It’s got to be the kids, this time.” Audrey stood, stretching. She’d had enough time to herself. Back to work.
But Josie wasn’t on the other side of the door. In fact, Audrey didn’t recognize the kid at all, but she was young and panting, out of breath.
“Hello there…” Audrey trailed off uncertainly. She glanced back at Lina, who shrugged and walked over with the tray.
“There’s— a—”
“Catch your breath, girl. Speak to the First in full sentences.” Amelina’s voice dripped disapproval, though Audrey was beginning to understand that it was calculated for that effect and not actually indicative of the woman’s emotional state.
The girl nodded, hands on her hips as she gasped for air.
There are a lot of stairs here. Poor thing must have sprinted up all six flights. Audrey put on her best reassuring smile, and the girl smiled faintly back.
“I’m sorry, First.” A pause for another deep breath. “There’s a Seeker here to see you.”
Amelina gave Audrey a sideways look. “Did he give a name?”
The girl’s face screwed up in confusion and she shifted her feet. “I, um, should have asked.”
Lina frowned. “Make sure to identify all visitors in the future. Are we clear?”
Audrey was afraid Lina was going to have the girl in tears, but she seemed to be made of sterner stuff. She straightened her back and stood at attention, almost like a soldier. “Yes, Advisor.”
Lina studied her a moment, then nodded, satisfied. “Good. What did he look like?”
Audrey hadn’t said a word. Hope was a dastardly creature, making your heart race, the corners of your mouth pull up into a smile, your breath quicken, and yet promised nothing. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
“He was about so tall,” she held her hand up to indicate the man’s height, “and really grouchy. He had black hair and brown eyes, and was in his Seeker uniform.” When the girl got no response from the two women, she began to fidget. “He seemed really grouchy, and had a growly voice.”
Hound. Audrey focused on the mark, and now that she was paying attention, she could sense that he was near.
“Thank you, runner. That will be all for now.” Lina’s gaze was on Audrey, and damned if she knew what to do with it.
“Um, Advisor? Do I send him up, or…?”
Audrey flashed a panicked look at Lina. The woman wasn’t her first choice for moral support, but Audrey had no clue what to do. How was she going to face him? He was likely here to formally renounce his rights to the child, and tell her to have a good rest of her life. Heavens, I can’t do this.
“No, I’ll—”
“The First will see him in her audience chamber in twenty minutes. Make him wait downstairs, and don’t offer him refreshment.” The girl bounded away, braids smacking against her back as she started down the stairs. Amelina shrugged nonchalantly. “Might as well make him sweat a bit.”
Audrey laughed, it was so absurd. Amelina knew how to manipulate people, that much she was sure of.
/> “Come on, then. Let’s get you and your room cleaned up.”
Audrey patted at her hair which was a snarled mess. No wonder the poor child had gaped at them.
Twenty minutes passed in a blur, but all was set to rights in her quarters. The privacy screens were up, separating her sleeping area from the rest of the otherwise open floor plan. Her audience room was the only walled-off room in the chamber, and she’d lit the lamps there and freshened the place up. She’d taken the world’s fastest bath, mainly to tame her hair, and was dressed in a simple evening shift with an open-faced robe tied around her waist to dress it up enough for a casual meeting. Her hair was damp against her shoulders, but it was still warm enough that she wasn’t chilled.
Lina looked her over and nodded curtly. “You’ll do fine, Audrey. You got along without him before, and you can do it again.”
Audrey’s nod was stiff and jerky, her stomach dancing in her gut. She hadn’t even been this nervous when she’d told him how to cure him. I wonder how much of the nausea is from the pregnancy? Not that wondering about it was going to give her an answer, but it made her feel less pathetic about it.
Lina rested a hand on her shoulder in a silent gesture of solidarity, then strode to the exit with her confident grace. Audrey listened for the closing of the door, but it didn’t happen. Hound must have been waiting outside her room.
“In here.” The audience room was hardly sound proofed, but it did provide an area where conversations were less likely to be overheard. It also lent a more official tone to their meeting, which Audrey needed to hold herself together. Amelina knew her well, and had set everything up to make this as comfortable as possible for Audrey.
Heavy boots scuffed against the stone floor and Audrey heard the door swing shut. With every step he took, she swore her pulse ratcheted up to dangerous levels. Audrey half hid herself behind a high-backed chair, giving herself something to hold onto. She just had to keep herself together until he left, and then she could deal with the fallout.
