Chapter 12
EMMELINE
I set down my book, pressing a single blade of grass between the pages, as Elora crawled into my lap. She’d long since abandoned her blocks, and had been pulling grass and dandelions around the perimeter of our quilt, even as her normal nap time passed us by. Though she still preferred crawling, Elora grasped my dress to pull herself to standing.
“Why, hello, baby,” I said, and she gave me a gummy grin. The presence of two front teeth sent a pang through my heart. She was growing too fast. I returned the smile before pulling her into a hug. I was grateful for her pleasant mood. Feeding had been difficult while she’d been teething, but the worst was past us. I finally felt like we’d found a routine. “Are you hungry?” I asked.
In an instant, she was pushing away. Her smile was gone, and all I could see was a determined, furrowed brow as she leaned into me. Using her chubby, little hands, she grasped at my shift, trying to pull it down.
“Just a minute,” I said, loosening the drawstring and adjusting my stays. Her perfectly defined curls bounced the same as she did, impatiently wiggling as I made myself more comfortable. Leaning against the tree whose shade we’d borrowed, I stretched out my legs as Elora clambered over me.
“Da da da da da,” she babbled, making herself comfortable.
“All right, little love. Come here.”
The moment she was properly latched, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It was a warm day for spring, and we’d been enjoying the weather ever since her birthday. She couldn’t hold her hands still as she fed, one little fist tapping away at my waist while the other unfurled against my chest. Tiny nails that needed to be trimmed scratched at my skin, and I gave her my fingertip to grasp onto instead. Her grip was tight, only relaxing after a few minutes. Elora’s eyes stayed closed, and her body grew warm and heavy. She was a steady weight on my lap as she drifted off to sleep.
I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to miss these moments. If I’d handed her off to nursemaids as was expected, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy this peace with her. Milk drunk and pacified, this version of Elora was the one that helped me know I was made for this.
There was no greater gift than being her mother.
My arm grew numb, and I grimaced as I tried to adjust myself beneath her. I didn’t like to move much when she was so fresh into her sleep, but I was afraid I’d drop her if I didn’t. She didn’t rouse as I shifted my pack, using it to support that arm. Her curls fell into her eyes, and I gently brushed them away.
I didn’t expect her to pop off my breast, but she tore away from me, looking up with wide, blue eyes. Blinking slowly, she watched me. Gods, she was beautiful. A bubble of milk and saliva slid down her lip, and I smiled at her.
“Brave girl of mine, blessing divine, brought to me under the two twin skies,” I sang, slowly rocking her back to sleep. I wasn’t sure of the meaning of the song, but it was the only one my mother had ever sung to me, so it made sense to soothe my own babe with it.
Soon, her eyelids grew heavy, and she nestled closer, going back to the breast and falling into a deep sleep. All I could do was stare at her. How had I created something so perfect?
And worse, how could I have brought her into a world that still had so much strife? One day, she’d grow into it and inherit so much mess. That didn’t feel fair. As my gaze kissed the upward tilt of her nose and the twitch of a smile in her sleep, I was overcome by temporary grief.
I hoped her father would protect her from it.
It was less than an hour later when the man in question came outside, sweat dripping from his brow. His shirt was off within a breath, as he scanned the tree line. We’d been coming outside often for nap time, and it was the highlight of his day to find us, sun weary and smelling like nature.
My chest tightened when he finally spotted us, and his long legs brought him over with haste. I twisted my mouth into a frown, eyes widening as I stared up at him. He couldn’t see me while the bright sunlight beat down on him, but I hoped he’d feel my emotions through the bond.
Don’t you wake this child up, Rainier Vestana.
As he moved closer, his gait shifted. Gone were the purposeful strides of an eager prince, and instead, I found the excited half-skip of a smitten father.
“My girls,” he whispered, an enormous grin lighting up his handsome face. “Please,” he begged, wiping his curls from his forehead before holding out his hands for our daughter.
“She hasn’t been asleep very long,” I argued. “And you’re sweaty.”
“Just for a minute,” he pleaded. “Before she arrives. You know I won’t get a moment until she leaves.”
Though we’d been quiet, Elora adjusted in my arms, squirming farther up my lap. I didn’t know how she knew. The two of them had shared a connection since birth—before it, really. They had been quite the pair her entire life. Sure enough, Elora blinked up at me, somehow already apprised of her father’s presence even in sleep.
And of course, probably because he was there, she wasn’t fussy at all. Dreamily, she smiled up at me, before grasping my hair and tugging a bit too hard. I didn’t think there would ever come a time I was sick of seeing that curve of her lips—even as she unintentionally caused me pain.
She was precious, and she was perfect. And she was ours.
Rain bent down, distracting me with a lingering kiss as he scooped Elora into his arms. He smelled of sweat and oak, and I couldn’t begrudge him for loving his daughter as much as he did. He stood, holding her in his arms, as she reached for the curls that matched her own. He’d been talking about cutting his hair shorter, though I’d convinced him not to for quite some time. But as we approached summer and he hadn’t finished building our home, I thought the heat might make me lose that battle.
“The floors in her bedroom are done,” he proclaimed, as his fingertip burrowed into that spot beneath Elora’s chin, causing her to squeal and squirm in his grasp.
“Only one left, then, right?” I asked, hoping for him to finally allow us to move into the home of our dreams. I had grown quite tired of my proximity to Shivani within the palace, and I couldn’t wait to make this place our own.
“Our room is all that is left. Arguably, the most important room,” he responded, and I rolled my eyes as I stood. “You want a little brother, don’t you, sweet girl?” he asked our daughter, tickling her side. He was ready for more children. I, however, wanted to focus on Elora for a little while.
“Your father is so impatient,” I said, adjusting my clothing as I pressed a kiss to our daughter’s forehead. “If he had it his way?—”
“Emmeline!” A singsong voice called from the large doors which would eventually lead straight into our bedroom. They were my favorite feature of our home alongside the garden those doors would open into once Rainier was finished.
“I thought she would meet us at the palace,” I murmured, double-checking the drawstring of my shift.
“Where are you?” her voice trilled, and I didn’t want her to start screaming my name even louder.
“Over here, Lucia!”
My sister turned, the sun gleaming on her white hair. Though she wore it pulled away from her face, it was nearly blinding. It made me grateful for Elora’s curls, knowing the wave of the strands would soften the refracting light.
Lucia and I had always looked different because of our hair, but even now, she’d stayed the same while my body had changed thanks to childbirth. It was strange to look at her—a walking and talking mirror into my past if I paid no heed to our other differences. I reminded myself to be thankful for everything my body had done for me; so many people didn’t survive childbirth, and I’d only been able to because of my divinity. The stretch marks and loose skin were worth it.
“Give me my niece,” Lucia demanded as she stomped closer. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen her last.”
“You couldn’t have been home for more than a fortnight before you turned right back around,” I argued. Lucia whipped her head to glare at me. I was not helping her cause, apparently. But I wasn’t lying. She’d visited us three times since Elora was born.
I snorted when I looked at Rainier to see he’d moved farther into the shade of the trees, going so far as to side-step behind a sapling which had taken root amongst the older giants. Elora’s hands covered her eyes, and I wondered if Rain had coerced her into a game to tease my sister.
“We can see you, you know,” I drawled.
“Peek a boo!” Rainier said, and Elora’s little hands flew away from her face, and she screeched in delight.
“Loo, loo, loo, loo,” she started babbling, hands clapping as she saw her aunt.
“That’s right, Elora. I am your favorite auntie.”
“Don’t let Ven hear you say that,” I said, and Lucia only laughed as she barreled toward my child.
“Come here,” she said, holding out her arms, and Elora nearly jumped out of Rain’s grasp to get to Lucia. My husband’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at my sister.
Throwing his arms out to the sides, he turned toward me. “See?” he yelled.
“I do see,” I said, unable to stop my perusal of his sweaty abdomen, watching the way an errant drop rolled down the divot at his hip.
“Oh, gross. Stop.” My sister covered Elora’s eyes before mumbling to her quietly. “They’re so icky. Don’t even look at them.”
“You want more nieces and nephews, don’t you?” I asked sweetly, before closing the distance between me and my husband. “You should be glad we enjoy each other’s presence.”
Lucia made a sound spectacularly similar to a retch, making me chuckle. Elora smacked her aunt’s hand away from her face, irritated by the way she was limiting her vision, before reaching for her father. Children were so fickle.
“Ma ma ma ma ma,” she babbled, fidgeting in my sister’s grasp.
“Mama?” Lucia laughed, turning Elora in her arms to pepper her with kisses. “He’s not your mama, silly girl.”
Rainier stepped forward, mussing Elora’s curls as she squealed from her aunt’s attention. “She’s trying to say ‘my love,’” Rain informed her.
“She calls me Dada for ‘dear heart.’ We really ought to start referring to each other differently in front of her. Just so she’ll learn,” I said.
“Awww, why?” Rain asked, brows arching high. “I think it’s adorable.”
I huffed a laugh, turning to my sister for her assistance. But she only looked at the two of us with a soft smile.
“I’m so happy you’re happy,” Lucia said, reaching out to squeeze my hand before traipsing off with Elora after a butterfly. My sister had sacrificed so much to give me this life; I would forever be indebted to her.
“I missed her,” I said, putting my arm around Rain’s waist. “And my parents. I wish they would have come.”
Rainier pressed a kiss to the top of my head, chuckling as Elora accidentally smacked Lucia in the face while reaching for the butterfly above their heads. “We’ll visit them soon. Before our son arrives.”
“So, within the next twenty years?” I asked, grinning up at him. He squeezed my bottom, pulling me closer.
“I was thinking before the year ended,” he countered. “If we keep up this pace, we could gift Elora an army of siblings when she ascends.”
I snorted, pinching his backside. “We have all the time in the world, Rain.”
“I know, Em. I know.”
“Em? Em, wake up!”
I groaned, rolling over. I had a crick in my neck, and the last thing I wanted to do was open my eyes. My mouth was dry, and I wanted nothing more than to linger in the sweetest of dreams.
“Em! Please!”
The voice was muffled, and I decided to ignore it. If I willed it hard enough, I could be with Rain again in my dreams. I could hold the version of my daughter who hadn’t grown to resent me, who looked at me like I was her entire world. Free from war and turmoil and guilt, I could steal a few moments of peace.
“Divine hell,” the voice said, and I suddenly grew warm. The ground rumbled, and the golden bond in my soul tugged harshly.
Drowsily, I opened my eyes, and for a moment, my heart stopped. I thought I’d gone blind. I couldn’t see anything, save for small flashes of light.
The bond trembled, and I finally understood.
“Rain?” I croaked. He wasn’t supposed to be back yet. I couldn’t see him, and when I reached outward, my hand struck something soft and cold, limiting my movement.
“Your light, dear heart. You need to use it,” he said, with a slight edge of panic to his voice.
I blinked quickly, fighting against tears. I didn’t know what was happening, but Rain was here. Rain was back and alive and hopefully successful in his mission, but I was stuck.
I attempted to lift my hands to my face, but my hand dragged along the unforgiving barrier, and the sensation of a shadow wrapping around my fingertip gave me clarity.
I’d somehow managed to encase myself in a tomb of my own shadows.
My breaths came quick and shallow when I realized what was happening. I’d largely been able to handle small spaces, ever since Rain had helped me in the cavern. I thought perhaps I’d been able to move past the trauma of being stuck in that dark cave when we were children. But I knew now I would probably never fully escape it. Before the dark wisps of divinity could tighten around me, I summoned Aonara’s divine fire into my hands. With a grunt, I used my gift to punch my fists through the wall of unending dark.
“There you go,” Rain said, gripping my wrist with his warm, callused hand. “I couldn’t make a dent on this side, Em. Are you all right?”
“I think so,” I said, pulling my hands back inside the shadows, slowly sliding them upward between me and the barrier. My shadows were stubborn, and I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t submit to me. How could I have unwittingly created this?
“What happened?” Rain asked, and the bond gave a dull shudder. I could barely feel his emotions on the other side, everything drowned out by the roaring need which vibrated the bond. Mind, body, and soul—the bond required us to connect.
“I was having a dream. I-I don’t know what happened. How are you here?” I asked, as the shadows near my stomach disintegrated. I moved my hands upward, desperate to free my face and regain my sight.
“I came back as soon as I heard you were missing,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on my belly. He was right about the outside of the shadowed coffin. My work to free myself had to be done from the inside. It was cramped and uncomfortable, bending my arms in such a manner.
“Missing?” I asked, trying once again to wrest control of the shadows. “What time is it?”
“Close to dawn.”
“I slept here all night?” I breathed deep as the restrictive press of my own divinity left my chest.
“Em, you’ve been missing for more than a day.”
I shouted, words failing me. I’d slept for an entire day and then some. With a frustrated grunt, I focused entirely on my shadows. They’d betrayed me. I shouldn’t have slept like this. My divinity shouldn’t have enclosed me in this tiny prison while I dreamed. When the shadows released me, I sat up and reached for Rain.
“I’ve been asleep. I-I don’t know what happened.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked, pulling me into his lap.
I reached up, tracing my hands down either side of his face. It had been over a week since I’d seen him last, and he looked exhausted. I knew that each time he left, there was a chance I’d never see him again. I couldn’t quite care about my mysterious shadow sleep when I had him with me, here and whole.
“I came to see the dragons,” I said, finally allowing my gaze to break from Rain. The creatures in question had circled around us. Irses was the closest, and when he caught my attention, he pushed his snout against my shoulder. Ryo yawned from beside him, and, one by one, I noticed their bleary eyes. They’d all been asleep, just like me.
“And then?” Rain asked, brushing my hair from my shoulder. “Did you get hurt?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I did my best to remember. “I tried to rift. My head was aching, and I was so tired. I must have passed out.” Shaking my head, I could only imagine the turmoil I caused. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, pulling me into his chest. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
“How did I sleep for so long?” I asked, still confused about everything.
“Probably because you have barely slept at all the past month.” He kissed the top of my head. “The shadows seemed to protect you.”
“My dream,” I murmured. “It was so real. Almost like…”
“What was it about?”
“You,” I said, not allowing myself to think of that joyous alternate version of our lives.
“And Elora.” I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck. “I think I might have created a vision—like Cyran.”
“It’s possible,” Rain replied. His chest rumbled as he pondered the idea, and he gave me another kiss.
“Did it work?” I asked, changing the subject. I was hopeful that we would get some sort of respite from the Supreme’s attack. If Rain was able to stop their supplies, it could change everything.
“Yes,” he murmured, though there was an inkling of sadness from the bond. Where there should have been elation and a blossoming hope in its place, despondence twined across the golden tether between us. “We should call off the search, Em,” he said. “Dewalt thought you’d gone off and risked your neck.”
“Oh, gods.” Sour shame filled my throat, followed by an aching guilt. How many people had Cethina killed while I’d wrapped myself in comforting dreams? “And you’ll tell me what happened on the way to the healer’s tent?”
Rain put both of his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back to get a better look at me. “Where do you need healing?” His gaze tracked over what he could see, searching for an ailment.
“Not to heal me. They need me, Rain.”
“Mmm. We’ll see.” Without another word, he stood, supporting my back with one arm and using the other to scoop me under my knees. I couldn’t find the energy to argue with him as he carried me through a rift.