A Sword in the Sun

by Shannon Page

  Elnor was nowhere in the front rooms. “Here, kitty!” I called again, on my way back to the kitchen, where Petrana was still holding Rosemary. “I’ll take her now,” I said to my golem.

  With my baby back in my arms, I went upstairs. I was even less sleepy now, so I took Rose to the front sitting room, where I rocked her back to sleep.

  I sat holding her for several hours, pondering all that I’d learned. And hadn’t learned.

  — CHAPTER TWELVE —

  In the morning—well, later in the morning, after it got light—I sent a message to Leonora through the æther, telling her that Gracie was alive and well, that she wasn’t in Los Angeles, and that I had promised not to reveal her whereabouts—that I didn’t even know them myself—but that I was going to continue to try to talk her into coming home. I asked her to please let Gracie’s parents know.

  Then I braced for her response. She would be sharp and bossy, she would demand to know why I hadn’t let her know at once, why I hadn’t detained the witchlet, why…

  Thank you, Calendula, she said. I am glad to hear that she is well, and I appreciate your letting me know. I will pass this along to her people. Please continue your efforts as you can.

  What? I sat in my chair, blinking, trying to parse this. It sounded…straightforwardly mild, supportive, grateful. Where were the hidden barbs? I couldn’t find any. In my arms, Rose stirred, smacking her tiny lips together in what I was already learning meant she wanted to nurse soon. I opened my blouse for her.

  I will do my best, I sent Leonora, as my baby began her breakfast.

  Thank you. How are you feeling? How is your energy?

  I smiled. Ah, there, at least, was my concerned coven mother. I’m good. Nursing the baby now.

  I would like to have one of your sisters come by to see you, and her, and check on your food supplies. See if you need anything. It was not exactly couched as a request.

  I started to protest but then realized that that might be helpful. Okay. I’m having my birth parents over for brunch, so I could use a hand. Not Niad, though.

  Leonora sent a chuckle through the æther. Will Sirianna do?

  Perfectly.

  Very well. She cut the channel, and I leaned back in my chair, still rocking slightly as Rosemary nursed.

  Life was certainly strange these days, wasn’t it?

  Siri helped me and Petrana get food together for a simple brunch. I worried I would think about cooking in this very kitchen with Logan, preparing a dinner party all those months ago…But Sirianna was so cheerful, and the new baby was such a delight, that it was easy to focus on happy thoughts.

  I was also a bit nervous about my mom’s state of mind. She’d checked in with me every day over the æther, but I hadn’t seen her since before the birth.

  When my folks arrived, though, they cooed and cuddled the baby just like everyone else. I watched Mom carefully; she seemed delighted, relaxed, and at ease. “She’s so beautiful,” she said, looking from the baby in her arms to me and back again. “And she so resembles you. I can see your chin and cheekbones, and definitely the brow line.”

  How anyone found cheekbones in that plump baby-face was beyond me, but I just grinned back at my mom. “Is that what I looked like as a newborn?”

  “Pretty much. Not the red hair, though—yours was entirely black, before it all fell out and then grew in blond.”

  “Blond?” I put a hand to my dark brown tresses, held in a French braid.

  “Yes, for the first year or two anyway.” Mom smiled down at Rosemary. “So don’t get too attached to any of it now, because it’ll be something else before you know it.”

  Wise words.

  “I still can’t quite believe I’m a grandmother,” she added, patting her own dark hair, tucked carefully behind her ears. She must have spelled it this morning, for it to be staying so still and smooth. Her face was also smooth, completely unlined; she could have passed for a human thirty. Or maybe thirty-five. I looked like a thirty-year-old, after all, and she had politely set her apparent age to be older than her daughter’s.

  “No one will believe it,” I assured her.

  After the meal, Mom pulled me into a strong hug at the doorway. “I’m so happy for you, my darling,” she whispered into my ear.

  “I am too.” I hugged her back. I wanted to ask her more questions…and I also didn’t. She seemed good now—she really did seem happy.

  Maybe things were actually okay.

  The next few weeks fell into a comfortable routine. Rosemary grew, and remained the mildest, happiest baby ever. I couldn’t believe my luck…I mean, I really, truly had trouble believing it. Trouble believing that she was all right. But Nora, Manka, and Sebastian all examined her thoroughly and repeatedly.

  “She’s in perfect health,” Nora said. “Growing just as she should, and already strengthening her magical channels.”

  “But she never, ever cries,” I told her—I told them all. “You don’t think that’s weird?” Everyone just smiled and told me to be grateful.

  And I was. But it was just too strange.

  Jeremy visited nearly every day, briefly. He didn’t press his suit, and he didn’t bring any more emotionally laden presents. I was grateful for both of these things, and for the fact that we were relaxed together. Rosemary seemed to like him. She let him hold her as agreeably as she did everyone else. I knew I’d have to address the issue of the contract sooner or later, but for now, this worked just fine.

  No more cats, or witchlets, came through the supposed portal in my closet. I went in there twice more, exploring—both with and without Elnor—and could never find the edge again. Finally, I gave it up. If it was truly a thing, then it was being kept from me. For some reason.

  I was just beginning to wonder why Gregorio Andromedus had been so quiet when he sent me a message. Calendula Isadora, my son informs me that the child is healthy and happy, and that you are recovering from your confinement.

  I had to smile at his old-fashioned notion, at the old-fashioned word. Yes, thank you, we are both well, I sent back.

  I am glad to hear that. Then a pause. I am also glad to hear that you are spending so much time in Jeremiah’s company.

  But of course, I said, then couldn’t resist adding, my girl needs to get to know her father, after all.

  Just so. Good day, Calendula. Then he cut the channel.

  What was that about? I wondered. Just checking on me? Reminding me, yet again, to be a good little witch and keep my story straight? How addled did he think I was?

  What did he make of the removed ring? He knew, of course; he had to. I knew of no new leash he’d put on me. Was he letting me be, or was his current method of control just that much more subtle?

  I fretted about all this for a while before shrugging and going back to enjoying my daughter.

  I didn’t hear from Gracie again. I sent her one message, letting her know that Leonora and her parents had been told that she was alive and safe. She didn’t respond.

  Foolish child, I thought, and ignored the part of me that felt envious of her—her what, exactly? Her freedom? Bravery? I wasn’t sure what to call it, the thing in her that had just taken charge of her own life, at age fifteen.

  Even if she was making a terrible mistake, she’d almost certainly recover from it. She’d be wiser for it, too, once she got over the pain.

  I hadn’t been anything like that bold when I was her age.

  Christine and I finally had that lunch date. She took me out to an amazing Chinese restaurant near the medical center where she worked as a nurse-midwife. “My brother says you like Chinese food,” she said, smiling at me over her plate of pot stickers.

  “I love it,” I said around a mouthful of Happy Family. “And this is incredible. Does this place do delivery?”

  “Yep, anywhere in the city limits. Grab a menu when you leave.”

  Rosemary occupied the seat next to me. I’d finally gotten a clever little harness-chair thing that worked in
both cars and stationary furniture, and could even be transformed into a front-pack, so I could wear her but leave both my hands free. She lay in it now, watching me eat, blowing her usual bubbles.

  “That is the world’s most adorable baby,” Christine said. “And this isn’t just redhead solidarity speaking.”

  “She is adorable, isn’t she?” I asked, grinning at my child.

  Christine laughed. “She’ll have to learn humility somewhere else, though.”

  I snorted. “What am I supposed to do, pretend I don’t think it’s true?” I looked across the table at her. “Seriously, you work with moms and babies all the time. Who doesn’t think their little one is the most precious perfect thing ever?”

  “You’d be surprised, actually.” Christine snagged a pot sticker with her chopsticks and bit off the end. “Some mothers get all worried about their babies. They think they’re funny-looking, or they behave strange, or they aren’t growing like they should.”

  Now that she mentioned it…“Is it normal for a baby to never cry?” I asked her.

  She looked at me quizzically. “Literally never?”

  I nodded.

  “Really?” she insisted.

  “Really never.”

  Christine shook her head. “I’ve heard of that, but…You had her tested for all the possible chromosomal abnormalities, right?”

  “Sure,” I bluffed. I’d have to go research what kinds of tests humans gave their babies. Maybe I could even run some of them in my lab at home, or at least modified ones to apply to us. “Everything came up normal.”

  “Huh.” She looked across the table at Rosemary. My baby lolled her head about, looking back at Christine…or at the food…or the lights. Who could tell? “Well, babies only cry when they aren’t getting their needs met. And every baby is different. They come ready-made with their own personalities and temperaments, to be sure. Maybe you’re just really good at knowing when she’s hungry or tired or needs changing.”

  “That’s probably it,” I said. “I guess I’m just lucky.”

  “Count your blessings,” she said, taking another bite of the pot sticker. “I can see that you’re getting enough sleep—you look great. Both of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I steered the conversation away from my peculiar baby by asking Christine to tell me about her work, which she seemed more than delighted to do. It was fun to see her eyes light up as she told me about easing the birthing process, helping moms bond with their babies, seeing them months later as they grew and developed. The rest of the lunch hour flew by. “I gotta run—but thanks for coming all the way out to the avenues!” she said, getting up and grabbing the check.

  “My pleasure. Anytime. And the next time’s on me.”

  “Deal. And you don’t have to leave—lunch rush is over, they won’t need the table.” She pulled her employee badge out from where she had tucked it into her blouse as she walked up to the register to pay.

  I took her at her word and stayed, polishing off my own dish and then the few pot stickers Christine had left. Amazing food. I was going to throw away the menu from that other place. How come Raymond didn’t know about this one? His own sister wouldn’t have told him—

  “Ba-ba-ba-ba,” Rosemary babbled from her baby seat.

  I looked at her, frozen. My mind was filled with memories of Raymond, and I could suddenly see his likeness all over her face. Did nobody else see this? Not even his own sister? It wasn’t just the red hair; all her features were his.

  I thought about what my mom had said, about her resembling me. Was that just the typical bullshit that people told all new moms? “Oh, she looks so much like you…”

  Had anyone gone on about how much she looked like Jeremy? No, they hadn’t, because she didn’t.

  “Ba-ba-ba.” She waved her tiny, fat little hands in the air in front of her and smacked her lips.

  I glanced around the restaurant. Only a few tables were still occupied; surely nobody would mind a nursing mother. I pulled Rose out of her chair and got her latched on with only a minimum of indecent exposure.

  While she had lunch, I thought about Raymond. I did miss him, and I was still unhappy with how we had left things, although they were better than they’d been for a while. He was probably really busy with his band, making their new album, doing cloud sound things or whatever. I had deliberately not asked Christine about him; I wanted to become friends with her, not with Raymond’s sister. But now I wished I had.

  Well, I could call him, of course.

  And maybe I would.

  But then he’d want to see the baby. Would he see the resemblance?

  How could he not?

  If he did, then what? Did I seriously imagine he was going to, what, call me on it? “Hey, you said that baby’s not mine, but she clearly is!” Right, I didn’t think so.

  But it would be weird. He’d suspect, and he’d feel uncomfortable. Far more likely that it would go like that—that he’d want to ask, and not feel like he could, and we’d be right back in that awkward place where I was keeping secrets and he knew it and we couldn’t talk about any of it.

  I sighed and shifted the baby to my other breast. I missed him, and I wanted him to know his daughter, even if he couldn’t know that she was his daughter; and I couldn’t figure out how to make that happen in the actual universe that I lived in; so I decided to let it go, for now.

  Maybe things would work themselves out…later. Maybe she’d lose this red hair and the resemblance would become less obvious. Maybe…

  Maybe someday I wouldn’t be such a freaking coward.

  Sebastian visited me again. He’d been by with the healers a few times, but this time he came alone.

  After the usual niceties of food and drink, and inspecting and then playing with the baby, and making sure that I was well and energetic and all that, he said, “So. I have an update on the missing research subjects.”

  My stomach sank. I hadn’t forgotten about them, exactly, but…

  He saw my face. “I wish I didn’t have to bother you about it now, while you’re still recovering—”

  “No, no,” I said, “I’m fine. Jeez. I’m going out to lunch with friends and feeling great. My baby doesn’t even keep me up at night. I was just…”

  “You were just getting over a difficult childbirth and getting adjusted to living with an infant,” he said, his voice kind and gentle. “And there wasn’t really anything to do, then—at least, not that I couldn’t do myself. But now I need your help.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. It was nice that he was trying to be cool with it, but there was no reason I should have been loafing at home, letting him deal with things. “Okay. So, what’s going on?”

  He sat back in his chair and looked at his hands, clearly gathering his thoughts. “First off, I have a confession.”

  I just looked at him.

  Now he looked back up at me, bravely meeting my eye. “You told me not to try to use the gold ring, but…I couldn’t help myself.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Sebastian!”

  He put up his hands. “It’s fine, nothing happened, but—”

  “You don’t think anything happened, but you don’t understand—”

  “Callie, listen to me, please,” he said, more forcefully. “Hear me out. You can yell at me afterward if you want to, but at least just listen.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He took a deep breath. “I didn’t put the ring on. You were very clear about that, and I believed you. Still do. But I did some, well, experiments on it in my own home lab.” At my expression, he went on, “I don’t have anything like the setup that you do, but I do have the ability to run simple tests and stuff in my house. In the corner of my kitchen, actually.”

  I had to stifle a snort at this. I’d never have pegged Sebastian Fallon as a kitchen witch.

  “Anyway, I was able to do a little probing about the magic embedded in the ring. And here’s the thing. It’s a very old artifact,
yes, but it’s been refilled with essence over the centuries. Even quite recently.”

  I leaned forward. “Was it…stealing my essence while I wore it?”

  “No, it wasn’t.” I frowned, confused, as he said, “Just the opposite. Didn’t you say it increased your power? It wasn’t draining you…but it had to get that power from somewhere.”

  “Logan,” I breathed. “And all the witches suffering draining essence…”

  “Exactly. Dr. Andromedus is…I think he’s been the one behind this.”

  “Behind what? Behind the essence-stealing?” He’d said just that, and of course I’d been suspecting it myself, but it was as though something shifted once it was spoken aloud. Now we would really have to face it.

  It was too awful.

  “Yes. Exactly that.”

  “Not Flavius Winterheart.” Again, I’d had increasing doubts, but…

  Sebastian shook his head. “It doesn’t look that way.”

  I felt sick to my stomach all over again, thinking about what Jeremy and I had done to Flavius…burning his magic out of him, permanently, as punishment for a terrible crime…a crime that he probably hadn’t even committed. “Oh, Blessed Mother.” The old warlock had lied about so many things, fundamental, world-changing things. Of course he would assign a fall guy to be blamed for his own misdeeds. And make himself the hero for “discovering” it.

  “I know.” Sebastian looked very grim. On the verge of tears, in fact. Gregorio Andromedus was his mentor, his teacher. Yes, Sebastian had been suspicious of the old warlock for some time now, but he didn’t know even the things I already knew…things I desperately wished I could share.

  But I couldn’t, I still couldn’t. This confirmed what I’d not wanted to think…but I had to still keep pretending this was a terrible surprise.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have to pretend to be horrified. I reached across the table and took his hand. “This is just awful. I don’t know what to think.”