Descension (35 page)

The pain throbbed, but not enough to stifle her joy. “Me, too,” she breathed, watching the top of his head through happy tears.

She closed her eyes, and after a long stretch of silence, the pain subsided, letting them fall asleep with each other and their baby on their minds and in their hearts.

~ * * * ~

First thing the following morning, Aedan called his parents and asked them to return to Oregon right away. They’d only been home for three days, but they agreed without hesitation.

Now that Rhosewen knew she was pregnant, other magicians would know as well, just by looking at her aura—the tell-tale colors of love and concern congregating around the womb, its vigilant flow of maturity and responsibility. She was baking, and her oven light was on, so she couldn’t leave the house. She didn’t mind too much and would never risk a trip outside if there was a chance the Unforgivables were watching.

Morrigan and Caitrin’s worry weighed heavily on them, but they did their best to smile around their daughter, unwilling to compound her stress. They weren’t fooling anybody. Morrigan rarely left Rhosewen’s side in the twenty-two hours it took Serafin and Daleen to arrive.

Once the family of six had gathered, they sat in Aedan and Rhosewen’s living room to discuss their options.

For Aedan, there was only one. “We have to leave,” he announced, stroking Rhosewen’s dainty knuckles.

Daleen dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, Serafin kissed his wife’s silky hair, and Morrigan buried her face in Caitrin’s bicep.

“You could be followed,” Caitrin noted. “Then you’d be alone in facing them.”

“We’ll have to take the risk,” Aedan replied. “If we stay, they’ll find out and no one in the coven will be safe, particularly our baby. Our best chance is to hide and hope they never find out Rose conceived. We’ll change our names and integrate into a non-magical community. As long as we’re together with only ourselves to worry about, we’ll have the edge against intruders. We can disappear in less than a second, get out before anyone knows we’re there. We could hide that way for a long time. Until it’s safe.”

“What do you think of all this?” Caitrin asked, looking at Rhosewen.

She slowly shook her head, jarring a few tears loose. “I don’t see any other way, dad.”

The sadness in her aura grasped Aedan’s heart and twisted. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered, brushing a thumb over her tears.

She grabbed his wrist and held tight. “Don’t be sorry,” she insisted, moving his hand to her stomach. “Not about this.”

He ran his hand under her shirt, finding soft skin. “Never about this.”

“They’re right,” Serafin cut in, briefly meeting Caitrin’s stare. “The best we can do is get them to safety without being seen. At least there’s a chance for them that way. Agro would do anything to get his hands on their baby. If they stay here, he’ll quickly discover the truth. Then there will be no hope...” His voice broke, and sad silence held the room, leaving everyone breathless.

~ * * * ~

By that evening, the plans were made, the farewells were said, and Aedan and Rhosewen were as prepared as they would ever be to leave their home. For how long, no one knew.

Daleen had been gone all day, hunting down a place for them to stay, and had met a nice woman living in Ketchum, Idaho. Thirty-one-year-old Katherine Moore was single and childless, a secretary by day and a loner by night. As luck—or fate—would have it, she had a fully furnished, garage apartment with activated utilities and phone service. Daleen softened her up with two years rent, telling her the truth mostly—the apartment was a gift for her son and daughter-in-law who were expecting a baby. She gave Katherine their new names, Chris and Sarah Callaway, and told her they’d be arriving late that night, insisting she not wait up for them.

Daleen had worked out the where while Aedan, Serafin and Caitrin had worked out the how. Morrigan was a mess, unable to tear her attention away from Rhosewen for more than a few seconds at a time, so she didn’t take part in the planning.

The six of them would leave together after sun down, lowering their bodies’ visibility with the same spell they used when they flew during the day. Hiding their auras and bonded lights, however, was something none of them were accustomed to, so Aedan and Rhosewen practiced throughout the day, finding it fairly easy to do. Combined, the concealment spells would provide excellent cover, but an alert magician standing in the right place at the right time could easily spot a shimmer of evidence, so several coven members patrolled the surrounding lands and skies, making sure the Unforgivables weren’t close enough to witness the family’s departure.

Inside their house, Rhosewen and Aedan said sad goodbyes to their parents. The six of them wouldn’t be landing together. In fact, each couple would be landing in a different time zone.

The witches cried, and the wizards flexed, eyes shiny and red.

“Keep in touch,” Serafin insisted, grasping Aedan’s shoulders. “We’ll make sure no one hears our side of the conversation.”

“We will,” Aedan whispered, his throat too tight to do more.

As nightfall approached, someone knocked on the door, and Aedan sluggishly moved to open it, wishing the task would distract him longer than a few seconds. “Kemble,” he greeted, scanning his aura.

“Everything’s clear,” Kemble reported. “We haven’t seen a soul.”

“Thanks,” Aedan mumbled, starting to turn away. Then he paused and looked back. “Will you leave as well?”

Kemble shrugged as he glanced at his house. “We haven’t decided.”

“You should,” Aedan insisted. “If Agro drops in looking for us and sees your lights…” He swallowed and shook his head. “Just go, get away for a while. Maybe stay with Cordelia’s parents.”

Kemble thoughtfully nodded. “Cordelia and I have discussed our options. If we decide to go, we have places to stay.” He glanced at Rhosewen’s tear-streaked face then met Aedan’s sorrowful stare. “I’m sorry, Aedan,” he said, clasping his hand. “I have a pretty good idea what you’re going through, and I hate that such hard times have fallen on you. Be safe, be strong, and come back to us sooner rather than later.”

“We’ll do our best,” Aedan agreed. “Take care of Cordelia and Quinlan.”

Kemble nodded and stepped away. “Goodbye, Aedan.”

“Until next time, Kemble.”

“Until next time,” Kemble repeated. Then he shot toward his post.

“Everyone knows the plan,” Caitrin hoarsely announced. “Call when you safely arrive.”

Aedan and Serafin nodded, but the women continued to cry, and Rhosewen was gasping for air.

Aedan took her face and leaned close, touching his nose to hers. “Breathe,” he whispered.

She nodded, keeping her gaze glued to his as they inhaled and exhaled together, and her eyes eventually dried as her shaking quieted.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she squeaked.

He watched her for another moment then turned to his parents, concealing their bodies and lights while Rhosewen did the same for Morrigan and Caitrin. After Aedan and Rhosewen performed their spells on each other, only hazy shimmers occasionally caught the light, revealing the location of the six magicians.

Each couple clutched hands. Then they stepped into the warm, night air, shooting into the sky as one. They flew east for thirty minutes then south for two hours. When they turned east again, Caitrin and Morrigan slowed, their silhouettes appearing over the bright moon then dropping out of sight. The two of them planned to retrace their path to the community, keeping their senses alert to signs they’d been followed.

The others flew east for another hour and a half. Then Serafin and Daleen appeared out of nowhere, but they didn’t slow down or turn around. They merely held each other close as they continue east. Aedan and Rhosewen were no longer with them. They’d turned north.

An hour later, with Rhosewen wrapped in a hug, Aedan landed in the quiet backyard of a two-story, country home. He scanned his surroundings as he climbed the stairs outside an old garage. Then he used the key Daleen had given him, opening the door to a small, one-room apartment.

After checking the bathroom and closet, they released their concealment spells and appeared in each other’s arms, but they didn’t speak. They just held tight, catching each other’s hot tears and labored breaths.

Once the tears ran dry, Aedan called Caitrin. Then he and Rhosewen crawled into their strange bed, drained by their long and emotional day.

Katherine Moore—tall and slender with long brown hair and bifocals over large, milk chocolate eyes. She was sweet, instantly likable, with an aura that shone brighter than most non-magical auras. The haze was laced with saddening colors, indicating a troubled past and a deep hesitancy to trust the world around her, but it also held an exceptional amount of optimism and compassion.

Katherine adored Rhosewen from day one, doting on her every chance she got. Within six weeks, Rhosewen had found true friendship in Katherine, albeit based on lies.

One evening, as Aedan ran errands, Katherine joined Rhosewen for tea. She’d been thrilled to accept Rhosewen’s invite, and was in an excellent mood as she refilled their mugs, raving about a baby crib she’d seen at a flea market.

“It was so pretty,” she said, adding heaps of sugar to Rhosewen’s tea, “all white with spindly rails. You would have liked it.”

Rhosewen stirred her beverage then sipped, watching the pulsing haze surrounding her company. “It sounds pretty. You should have bought it.”

“You can’t get a crib without seeing it first,” Katherine countered.

“Not for me,” Rhosewen laughed. “For you. You like kids, right?”

“I love kids,” Katherine confirmed.

“Then you’ll probably have one someday.”

Katherine’s aura darkened as her expression fell, making her look older, sadder and wiser. But then her lips curved into a hopeful smile. “I can’t carry a baby, but I would like to adopt one. Someday soon, I hope.”

“Oh,” Rhosewen whispered, eyes moistening. “Adoption is a special commitment. It takes a special person to do it. I think you’d be perfect for the job.”

Rhosewen believed what she said, yet her heart ached for Katherine—an outwardly average, inwardly amazing, beautiful woman, who would never know what it feels like to carry a baby, to know her body was responsible for the most precious, miraculous, magical thing possible.

Sharp pangs suddenly ripped through Rhosewen’s bones, and her mug shattered on the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, grasping at air before finding the edge of the table, her knuckles and face painfully tense.

“Sarah!” Katherine shouted, rushing around the table. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Rhosewen rasped. “I just… need… a second.” She forced herself to breathe through the subsiding pain, which quickly ebbed to a tolerable ache. “I’m better now,” she said, peeling her hands from the table as she willed her smarting body to stand.

“What are you doing?” Katherine gasped.

“Cleaning up my mess,” Rhosewen answered, waving a shaky hand toward broken glass.

“I don’t think so,” Katherine protested, urging Rhosewen to sit. “I’ll clean up your mess while you tell me what that was all about.”

“It’s nothing,” Rhosewen assured. “I’ve just been achy since I got pregnant. Sometimes it flares up.”

“You should see a doctor.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rhosewen countered. “I don’t know why I dropped my cup. Clumsiness, I guess.”

Katherine halted, suspiciously eying her hostess. “You’re the most graceful woman I’ve ever met, Sarah. Whatever that was hurt you more than you’re letting on. You need to see a doctor.” She dumped the broken glass in the trash then turned back with raised eyebrows. “Does Chris know about this?”

“No,” Rhosewen mumbled, thinking about how much energy she devoted to keeping Aedan in the dark. Of course she felt guilty—an unending, gut wrenching, stomach flipping kind of guilty. But she hadn’t found the courage to destroy his happiness. When he performed physical examinations on her and the baby, she worked her own magic, shielding the sore areas of her body when his hands moved over them, and she’d learned how to manipulate her aura, which took constant concentration.

“That’s what I thought,” Katherine sighed, “because he wouldn’t let this go on without getting you medical help. He loves you and that baby too much.”

“I know,” Rhosewen conceded. “I’m going to tell him.”

“Soon?”

Rhosewen was deciding how to answer when Aedan walked in. Katherine glanced at him then shot a meaningful look at Rhosewen, but she didn’t say anything more on the subject.

Aedan covered the distance to Rhosewen in two strides, pulling her out of her chair and into his arms. “Hello, my love,” he breathed, doing so easily for the first time since he’d left. He kissed her lips then knelt, nuzzling and kissing her stomach. “Hello, my other love.”

Rhosewen’s pain pulsed, but she held perfectly still. She’d become quite skilled in her dishonest quest.