Chapter 26
The library had always been the place I was most at peace. Surrounded by those soft leather spines and the scent of yellowing paper, well, there was hardly a place on earth more soothing than a library. I’d once seen the Library of Alexandria—I’d sat in it as a temple of learning in amazement, feeling like I’d come home.
I’d mourned its loss for centuries. In fact, even thinking about the knowledge lost over the squabbles of men made me inordinately pissed off. They’d really put themselves back a few centuries in learning, and for me, that was unforgivable. But I’d given up caring about the foibles of men a long time ago. Politics hadn’t been my problem in centuries, and I wasn’t in a hurry to change that, despite our current predicament.
The answers I was searching for were probably in the ashes of that building. That was the real frustrating part about the world following the burning of Alexandria.
We’d done our best to store invaluable tomes from around the Mediterranean here in Crete, especially after the monolithics came into power. We were a pagan religion, after all, and everyone knew that to rise to power, you had to obliterate the identity of the people you were conquering. We protected what we could, and I tried to remember what I couldn’t. Sometimes I wrote it down in the old language, just in case anything happened to us, but humanity would need someone to decipher that too.
For the first time in an age, the library here didn’t give me peace. It wasn’t giving me the answers I needed to reassure Wren, and I found that more frustrating than I wanted to admit. I wanted to tell her that it would all be okay, give her a step-by-step account of events to expect.
But no such checklist existed.
I thought about the small, waifish thing that seemed to be shrinking under the size of her stomach every day. She’d been here for four days now, and we all hedged around each other like wild animals sussing out new predators in the territory. Except Milo. He’d thrown himself into caring for Wren like it was his only purpose in life.
Once, caring for a Goddess had been his only purpose. All our purposes. I shook my head at those old thoughts resurfacing. Wren wasn’t a Goddess. She was just a woman who’d gotten caught up in something she shouldn’t have. Her only fault was being too nice.
The ultrasound machine had been caught up at the sea port, due to an industrial strike, so it had been delayed arriving, but should be here any moment now. I’d spent all my time reading obstetric texts and journals about the dangers and monitoring of multiple births. By the time they were ready to be delivered, I would ensure that I knew everything there was to know about any eventuality.
She would still need to go down to the hospital in Heraklion, and I hated that idea already. But I would be with her, and if anything happened, I wouldn’t hesitate to flex my powers and take over.
I nodded at the plan I was forming, closing the book in front of me and standing to flex my shoulders. I wanted to fly, stretch my wings, maybe do a lap around the islands to assure the Gryphon inside me that our territory was well defended.
He’d been restless since they’d arrived, and I didn’t fool myself by pretending I didn’t know what that sensation in my chest meant. I just wasn’t ready to admit what it could be. Not now, when the future was more clouded than it ever had been before.
Unlike my brothers, who were their animals—their human forms merely glamors of themselves—I was dual-natured. I shared my soul with the Gryphon, and we shared the body we both possessed. He was wise and surprisingly good-natured, so he was happy to let the man walk around primarily. Even he knew the time of flying the skies freely as a Gryphon had long passed. He didn’t like it, but as I said, he was wise.
When we’d left the deserts of our homeland and come to Crete, the world had already been changing. Our territory had once ranged from Persia to Egypt, but the Gryphons had been all but eradicated. The people we’d had, the riders we’d carried, were all gone too. The magic we’d possessed had gone back to the earth; all that was left was two forms and no purpose.
Alone, my Gryphon and I had flown across the Aegean, and I’d become enamored with the Goddess, who believed in life and death and renewal. I’d fallen in love with her so completely that her death had almost killed me too. If I hadn’t had the Gryphon, I may have just faded away with her.
But while the Gryphon had loved the Goddess, thought of her as part of his flight, he hadn’t loved her with his whole soul.
Which made his feelings since Wren’s arrival more concerning. He’d been pushing at the edges of my control, anxious to be out. He was grouchy and discontented, but he’d given me too much control over the centuries, so I was able to hold him back. His emotions, which I’d always been able to read like my own, were wild and anxious.
In short, I didn’t know if she was his mate or if he wanted to murder her. And that was terrifying. But I couldn’t keep him locked away forever either.
A knock at the wall door reverberated through the whole compound. It was part of the ward, but if the person who knocked had bad intentions, it would zap them halfway back to the ocean. I assumed it was the townsperson who was delivering the ultrasound machine, so I made my way down from my wing toward the front room. Usually Erus or Tryp answered the door. They were the least… other of us all. So if it was just a tourist with seriously broken instincts, they’d send them on their way easily enough.
When I walked into the front room, Milo was hefting a giant crate heavily wrapped in plastic through the doorway, like it weighed nothing. “Where do you want it?”
I looked around the formal living room. This would do as a temporary med room for now. We never used it; it wasn’t as if we held lavish parties or ever entertained at all. I’d bring in one of the chaise lounges that sat in storage, and that would be enough.
“Here is fine. Thank you, Milo.”
He set it carefully down, eyeing the crate. “Do you, uh, need help setting it up?”
Goddess, no.Milo was not the most gentle creature when it came to things that needed finesse. He’d built the wall outside with his bare hands. He could bench press a car with ease. He could fight like no man I’d ever met before. But he could not gently piece together medical equipment.
“It should be fine, brother. Could you tell Wren that the equipment has arrived and should be ready in about an hour?”
Milo grinned at the idea of seeing Wren, nodding and all but skipping away. His happiness was something I hadn’t thought I’d ever see again, and even if I didn’t think she was the Gryphon’s mate, I would protect her with my life just for that.
It took me a little longer than I thought to set up and calibrate the machine, and I ran through the instructional videos a couple of times. However, by the time Wren knocked on the doorjamb, it was all set up and ready to go.
Was it odd to be nervous?
My Gryphon huffed inside my head, and I hushed him. “Wren, come in.” I waved her over to the long piece of furniture I was using as a bed. It wasn’t really a convenient height, but it would do. “I just finished setting it up.”
Unsurprisingly, two steps behind her was the God of War. The Gryphon grumbled at his presence, but seemed to take it in his stride. Again, that confused me. If the Gryphon thought Wren was his mate, he wouldn’t take the connection of Néit so easily. He could be a possessive fucker.
I wasn’t particularly surprised that Milo, Tryp and Erus followed. They’d been creeping around each other, but there was no doubt the bond was getting stronger. She’d described it like a pull, and apparently, with the bonds being so new, the pull meant they had to be at her side all the time.
She was probably going to lose her mind if she didn’t get some space. No matter how bonded, everyone needed alone time to reset.
Again, the Gryphon grumbled, but didn’t protest. I grinned past Wren at my brothers. “I see we have an audience today.”
Wren rolled her eyes, though she didn’t seem overly put out. “I can’t blame them. Their entire futures hinge on these three.”
I frowned at her words. “That doesn’t give them any rights over you. If you want them out, I’ll make them leave.” The Gryphon’s growl rumbled up my throat before I could swallow it down.
She sat down in front of me with a heavy sigh, rolling her shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t mind them being here.”
As if to fly directly in the face of her words, Demke appeared. Their eyes clashed, and I waited for her to protest, to ask him to leave, or send me an imploring look or something.
Instead, she just tore her eyes from him and smiled tightly at me. “Let’s get started.” She laid down and pulled up her oversized shirt—which I was fairly sure belonged to Milo—and the rounded expanse of her stomach became center stage.
I squirted some of the cool gel on her stomach, then a little more on the wand. I was happy with the quality of the ultrasound; it was top-of-the-range technology, and I was long past justifying how I spent my money. Besides, once Wren gave birth, I could anonymously donate it to the hospital in Heraklion.
“There isn’t a hospital on the mainland missing this piece of equipment, is there?” she asked, her eyes focused on the screen as I got my bearings.
Shaking my head, it didn’t take me long to find the first baby. “No, this is brand new. I was just thinking we could donate it once it’s no longer needed.” Taking a still image, I checked the measurements. “Okay, baby number one.” I really wished I could have her files from her normal doctor, but I had no medical standing to request them. Maybe I’d get Wren to request them, and hopefully they could email them over as soon as possible, both so I can adequately judge Wren’s care, and because I was insanely curious.
“Wow,” she breathed as the image rendered. A 3D recreation of the baby’s face appeared on the screen, and while he looked a little like the clay monsters which appeared out of the Persian desert four thousand years ago, I knew he was perfectly formed.
The more concerning part of that statement was the he.
“Do you want to know the sex?” I choked out, trying not to spoil one more thing for Wren, when really I wanted to ask Demke what he thought the baby’s gender meant for our theory about the Fates.
The Fates had never been male. They were always a trio of females. Had we been wrong about this whole thing?
“Uh, I think so. I’ve had enough surprises this pregnancy.”
Milo laughed, but his eyes were locked on her face, not on the screen at all. I looked between Demke and Néit, because they’d understand what I was trying to tell them with my next words. “You’re having a boy.”
Milo’s eyes snapped to the screen, so maybe he knew what I was trying to say too. “What?”
Wren’s face folded into a confused frown. “Why do you all look so freaked out?”
Néit squatted down beside her easily, which was quite a feat, because the guy was huge. “It’s nothing bad. Just historically, the Fates have always been girls. Women. That means either Teron is wrong reading the ultrasound, Demke is wrong about the threads of fate, or the Great Weaver has decided to mix things up.”
I raised a brow at him. “I’m not misreading the ultrasound.” I managed to keep the snippiness out of my voice… mostly. I looked around for the next baby, finding him easily. Yep, another him. “Another boy. But he looks healthy and strong.” From what Wren had told me about how far along she was, and what her OB-GYN had said, they looked like they were growing well.
I searched around for the third baby, who was a little more hidden, but I found him eventually. Still perfect in every way. Still another boy.
Three boys. What did that even mean?
Meeting Demke’s eyes, I found him as equally at a loss as I was.
Had we been completely wrong this entire time? And if we were operating under the wrong conclusion, what did the Greek Mythics want with Wren?