Descension (38 page)

Rage filled him, boiling his blood and vibrating his body. He wanted to rip open his chest and yank his heart out. He wanted to tear every last fiber from the carpet. He wanted to scream until his lungs exploded. But he didn’t. He merely whispered one word.

“Medea.”

It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and he didn’t make it lightly. It would mean leaving his little girl, leaving the only piece of Rose he would have left. But he wouldn’t be able to keep her safe without Rhosewen. If Rose died, so would part of him—the biggest part of him. Their daughter’s best chance would be to hide in the non-magical world, oblivious to her heritage, and he had to give her that chance. He owed it to her. He owed it to Rose.

He lifted himself off the floor and walked to the closet, emerging with a large jewelry box made of cocobolo wood. Hinged by pink gold, it had a long stemmed rose carved into the lid. He’d made it with the intention of placing his daughter’s first ring inside and giving it to Rose on the day of the birth. He’d never gotten the chance to fill it and would never get the chance to present it to his love.

He sat down at the table, sadly staring at the box for several heart-wrenching seconds. Then he sealed it with magic. Only his daughter would be able to open it now.

~ * * * ~

That night, after their parents had gone to bed sad and defeated, Rhosewen lay in Aedan’s arms, thinking about the day’s events. “I’m glad our parents are here,” she whispered, “but it’s making mom sad.”

“Everyone’s sad,” Aedan replied. “It’s hard to see someone you love in so much pain, but we’re not the ones who have to feel it.”

“You do.”

“A small fraction, my love. I hate that I can’t take it all.”

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

“I know, but I would anyway.”

Using his chin, he brushed her hair from her face and touched his cheek to hers. With such a short amount of time left to them, he didn’t want to talk about the end, but there was something that had to be done. “Rose?”

“Yeah?”

Dread weighed on his chest like a boulder as he searched for inner strength. “You understand, right? That your body might not… that there’s a chance…” Why was it so hard to say out loud? He was furious with himself for being so weak when his wife and child needed him so badly.

“It’s okay,” Rhosewen whispered, laying a frail hand on his face. “You don’t have to say it. I know what the odds are.”

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and he quickly kissed it away. “I’m sorry, Rose. We don’t deserve this. It shouldn’t be this way.”

“No, but it is. The most important thing to do now is make it all worthwhile by giving our baby girl the chance she deserves.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And I’m going to make sure she gets that chance. No matter what happens to us.”

“I know you will. You’re the most amazing man in the world. Our baby and I are very lucky to have you.”

He kissed her cheek then looked at her left hand. “There’s something else I want to do for our daughter. I want to give her the opportunity to know her mom.”

“I’d like that, too,” Rhosewen squeaked, more tears streaming from her eyes.

Aedan lifted their hands, gently wiping her face dry with a knuckle. “I’ve been working on a spell that could provide that for her… if things go wrong.”

“What kind of spell?”

“I want to imprint memories of our time together on an item, something symbolic of our relationship. Your wedding ring would be perfect. We’re both connected to it, which will make the images clearer, but if you’d rather, we could use something else.”

“No. I want to use the ring. How will it work?”

“I’ll take care of the spell work. All you’ll have to do is hold the ring close to your heart while focusing on the memories you want her to see.”

“That sounds easy,” she approved. “I focus on those memories daily.”

“Me, too,” he whispered, rubbing his lips across her bony cheek. “I’ll be adding my own recollections later, so don’t feel pressured to remember everything. I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.”

“I won’t. This is a really good idea. How will she get it?”

So she knew. She knew he wouldn’t be staying after she was gone.

He considered her question for a long moment before giving the best answer he had. “I can’t promise she will get it. I haven’t figured everything out yet, but I hope to provide her with information that will lead her home. I’ll lay the clues, but it will be up to her to follow them. If she does, the ring will be waiting for her. I don’t know any other way to do it without putting her in danger or risking her well-being.”

“I have faith in you, Aedan, and in our little girl. If this is our best chance to safely share our lives with her, I want to take it.” Her gaze roamed to her wedding ring. “When should we do it?”

“Whenever you’re ready, but we don’t want to wait too long. I’m afraid the weaker you get, the weaker the imprint will be.”

“That makes sense. Can I wait a couple of days, though? I want to make a few more memories before I do it.”

“Of course, love.”

She laboriously turned her head, finding his devoted, emerald gaze. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for this, Rose.”

“Not just for this. For coming into my life, for loving me and our baby, and for taking care of us.”

“I love you guys so much, Rose. I’d do anything for you. I would die for my two beautiful girls.”

“I know. That’s why I love you. For that and so much more. You’re my everything, Aedan.”

“Forever,” he whispered, touching his lips to hers.

They laid together for a long time that night, not talking, not sleeping, just feeling, just being together, both brokenhearted, both in pain, both deeply in love.

Aedan and Rhosewen’s nights were devoted to lying alone in their borrowed bed, but they spent their days with their parents. So over the next week, during daylight hours, one could find the family of six in the largest bedroom of the old, country house. Rhosewen remained in bed. Aedan held her left hand while Morrigan held her right. Caitrin did his best to keep his wife and daughter comfortable. And Daleen sat to her son’s right with one arm wrapped around his back. Serafin was the only magician who rarely held still. When he wasn’t performing examinations on Rhosewen and the baby, he was busy meeting the needs of the healthy occupants of the room.

Their conversations remained light and focused on family. Kemble, Cordelia and Quinlan were staying with Cordelia’s parents in Alaska. Cinnia was expanding her café in Cannon Beach. And Kearny was spending an ever increasing amount of time in Oregon, sweeping Enid off her feet.

“There’s something about those Oregon girls,” Serafin teased. “Our Virginia boys keep disappearing.”

“We grow beautiful women,” Morrigan whispered, brushing a spiral from her daughter’s forehead.

“Yes,” Aedan hoarsely agreed.

He rarely spoke anymore. He just listened and stared at his wife, soaking up every move and every word. They were in constant agony now, but the pain had become as much a part of them as anything else. For the most part, they silently endured, but when Rhosewen felt a surge of increased love for her daughter, often triggered by the baby’s movements, their torture intensified, throwing them into flexed fits of agony. When this happened, Morrigan had to leave the room.

Katherine sporadically popped in to ask if anybody needed anything, and she always stayed a while, visiting with Rhosewen and doting on the unborn baby. An eternal ray of sunshine, Katherine brightened the atmosphere, reminding them that life thrived outside the melancholy bedroom.

Early Wednesday morning, she brought in a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, toast and jam, and Rhosewen insisted she stay and dine with them. All of them ate save for Aedan, who wouldn’t let go of Rhosewen’s hand. He would force down a piece of toast the next time he used the bathroom.

Katherine finished first and set her plate on the dresser, moving to Rhosewen’s side. “May I talk to the baby while you eat?”

Rhosewen laboriously swallowed and smile. “You don’t have to ask.”

Katherine beamed as she looked at Rhosewen’s stomach. “Hi there, baby girl,” she cooed. “Are you getting a full belly? Should be; your mommy loves pancakes. Know what else your mommy loves?” she asked, gently tapping Rhosewen’s tummy. “You. Your mom and dad love you so much. You’re a very lucky girl.”

The baby moved, rolling beneath near translucent skin so clearly, they could discern the shape of her tiny hand and its five tiny fingers. That’s when things went from bad to worse.

Rhosewen screamed as her tormented body bucked, and her breakfast plate flew from her chest, shattering against the nightstand. Aedan tightened his grip as he groaned into his bicep, and their parents jumped from their seats, their breakfast plates disappearing into thin air. Startled, Katherine had fallen from the bed and was lying on the floor.

“You should leave,” Serafin said, helping her to her feet. “You shouldn’t see this.”

Horrified, Katherine backed out of the room, closing the door as she went, and Serafin moved to the bed, contemplating how to examine Rhosewen’s thrashing body.

Morrigan rushed to take Rhosewen’s right hand, and Aedan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to master the pain in a desperate attempt to provide mental, physical and emotional support for his wife. But it was the longest, most painful episode yet, and his smarting body was hard to ignore.

Rhosewen’s screams faded into wails as tears flooded from her closed lids, and her legs curled and flexed, her feet drilling into the bed as her head dug into pillows. Aedan opened his eyes, finding her biting a hole in her lip, and he choked back a sob as he buried his face in her neck.

She was in so much agony; he couldn’t stand it. He had to do something. He had to help her. Through clenched teeth he spoke, rubbing pursed lips across tight tendons. “Rose… remember that cave I took you to? The one at Devil’s Den? How we sat reading the emotions in the atmosphere?” He felt a slight change in her body and forced his own to move, climbing into bed with her. “I was already in love with you,” he whispered, scooting as close as possible. “I’d already decided to follow you to the ends of the earth. Everything you said, everything you did, exuded beauty, compassion and grace. You were the most captivating woman I’d ever met. From the very beginning.” He was able to unclench his jaw, and her moans had quieted, but tears still ran from her closed lids as her flexed feet pushed at the covers. “As I watched you play with the baby alpacas,” he continued, softly kissing her stretched throat, “I was already scheming on ways to keep you in my life. You forever became my perfect Rose that day.”

“Aedan,” she sobbed, popping her eyes open.

He left her neck, finding her teary gaze. “Ssh… You don’t have to say anything. Just let it get better. It’s getting better.”

As his warm breath washed over her lips and cheeks, her legs stilled, sinking into the blankets. She let go of her mom’s hand then rolled onto her side, lifting her palm to Aedan’s cheek. “You had me… the moment… you met me…”

Their faces came together, cheek to cheek, and tears streamed from their bloodshot eyes—sad rivers running down the contours of her sunken features. Aedan didn’t mean to cry, but once he started, he couldn’t stop, so they cried together, treasuring what they loved and what they’d lose, while fighting the agony holding their bodies captive.

~ * * * ~

By the time Rhosewen and Aedan regained control, Serafin had performed seven examinations. Aedan stayed in bed, lying close to Rhosewen as they listened to Serafin’s update.

“You’ve been dilated to two centimeters for three days,” he explained, “including first thing this morning. Now you’re at a three. The baby looks great—around six pounds, fully developed and healthy. She could be safely delivered at a moment’s notice. Your body, however, is a different story. The deterioration is increasing in speed. Your health has declined more in the past four hours than it did in the first three days we were here.” He paused, lightly clearing his throat as he glanced at the floor. “Particularly your heart. It’s struggling to keep your blood pumping, and I fear another episode like that will have it stopping altogether.”

Rhosewen calmly nodded her understanding. At this point, she wasn’t afraid of dying. The two things she feared most were a separation from Aedan and a risk to her child. She knew the separation wouldn’t last long, so her number one priority was her daughter’s safety.

“Do you think it will make it through the delivery?” she asked, speaking of her heart like it was a rusted component on a piece of old machinery.

“I can’t promise anything,” Serafin replied, “but the longer this continues, the smaller the chances.”

Rhosewen’s bruised lips dropped into a frown. “What can we do to speed up the delivery?”

Aedan winced. Speeding up the delivery meant shortening his time on earth with her.

Serafin glanced at his son then bowed his head. “There are things we can do to invoke an early birth, but you’ve already progressed from a two to a three this morning. I think we should wait a while, see how you do naturally. If you don’t dilate anymore today, inducing labor might be our wisest option.”