29. Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Her limbs shrunk, turning into wings, as her hair and skin fell away from her body, sloughing off into a pile on the floor with a wet slap.
White feathers began to sprout from her, replacing the skin she now lacked, and Ena knew she should be in awe, or grossed out, or both, but she couldn’t bring herself to care much about anything right now.
All she could think about was surviving the next contraction, and dreading how much it would hurt.
Xena, her human form fully replaced by that of a white snowy owl, glanced to the side, looking at Turner briefly with her predatory eyes.
“Be safe out there,” he said to her solemnly, and then she spread her wings and took off into the whiteout storm.
The next few hours were a blur of pain and relief.
Ena was so exhausted by this point, her body shut down in between contractions, drifting off into a shallow, restless sleep just to conserve energy.
She couldn’t feel the baby moving around anymore.
She told herself that could be normal as her labor progressed, but it didn’t stop her fear that something was wrong.
That none of this was going the way it was supposed to.
Ty and Turner hovered around her, offering her food, water, and in Ty’s case, blood. She took a few sucks at his wrist, just to ensure she was satiated, but if anything, the blood seemed to make the contractions come on faster and harder, so she stopped after a few sips.
Sometime around dawn, the contractions became near constant, and within a few minutes, Ena sat up suddenly, feeling as if her insides were falling out. She let out a grunting scream as she felt her whole body start to contract and push.
“Ena?” Ty asked, turning towards her in frantic worry. “What’s happening?”
“I’m pushing,” she said through gritted teeth, though she didn’t really mean to. “I—I think the baby’s coming. I can’t stop it.”
Oh, Gaia. This shouldn’t be happening like this.
Kaya needed to be here. Greya needed to be here.
Someone who could help her, help her baby.
Ena felt utter panic rise up inside her.
She was going to die. She wouldn’t be able to get this baby out, exhausted as she was.
It would be stuck and she would die. The baby would die and—
“Ena, look at me,” Ty said to her, his voice strong. “You can do this. We can do this.”
“I can’t, Ty,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t think I can. I don’t know if I can.” Even as she said the words, she knew she had no choice. No one else could do this but her. There was no way out but through, she knew that, and yet—
“I’m right here with you,” Ty said. “You’re not alone. Just focus on what you have to do. Kaya will be here soon, I’m sure of it.”
Another contraction rocked her body and Ena began pushing again.
She had no idea what she was doing, if she was pushing the right way, or if what needed to happen was happening.
All she knew was that it hurt. She screamed as the pain tore at her—as her body stretched and shredded in ways that it never had before.
And then it stopped—the contraction ending the torment as Ena tried to breathe and recover.
Ena had no idea how much time went by—she existed in an endless loop of contractions, searing, tearing pain, and frantic breaths as she squeezed Ty’s hands. But eventually, she heard a new voice enter the cave.
“Xena! You’re back,” Turner said with relief as Xena transformed back into her human form once more, shedding her feathers at the front of the cave.
“Yes,” she said, sounding out of breath and exhausted as Turner handed her the clothes she’d discarded when she left.
“Where’s Kaya? Is she coming?” Ty asked, posing the question that had been on Ena’s tongue.
“She’s on her way,” Xena said. “They were just a bit behind me. Is she—”
Xena’s question was cut off as Ena screamed again, her body contracting and trying to push the baby out. Ena reoriented herself to all fours—the only position that felt comfortable and steady—as her body seized.
When it subsided, Ena wondered if it would ever come, or if maybe something was wrong. Something she couldn’t see.
“Hang in there, Ena,” she heard Ty say to her through the fog of her pain and exhaustion. “Kaya is coming, just hang on.”
Another hour went by, but Ena barely moved now. She was so tired from everything, she could barely hold up her head, her limbs. Her body contracted around her, trying fruitlessly to push the baby out, but she couldn’t do anything to assist it anymore.
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the front of the cave, and Ena cracked her eyes open to see a Max in his giant bear form subsume the entrance, a small, fur-clad figure on his back. Both of them were out of breath and crusted in snow and ice.
“How is she?” Ena heard Kaya say as her eyes drifted closed once more.
She felt the woman approach her, placing her hand on her forehead, followed by feeling her wrist for her pulse.
“She’s been pushing for hours, but nothing seems to have happened,” Ty said. “I have no idea if everything is as it should be, or if something is wrong.”
“Let me look,” Kaya said. “Ena, lean back, dear. I’m going to look and see if I can see the head, okay?”
Ena heard her, and nodded her head, but didn’t have the energy to move.
“Ty—help her lie down,” Kaya said, her voice serious as she realized Ena’s state.
Ena felt Ty’s hands on the back of her head and under her legs as he scooched her forward and helped her lie down on the furs. She felt Kaya gently part her legs, looking between them to check for the baby.
“Do you see anything?” Ty asked.
“I do, I see the baby,” Kaya said, but her voice seemed concerned.
“Isn’t that good then?”
“Yes, it’s good, but I’m worried why it hasn’t come all the way out yet, if she’s been pushing this long like you said.”
“What could be wrong?”
“It could be stuck, caught by its shoulder on her pelvic bone,” Kaya said. “I’ve seen it happen before, back when I used to attend births as part of my Coven duties.”
“What can you do?” Ty asked, his voice distraught and terrified. “Will they be okay?”
Ena had never heard his voice sound so helpless before, and it chilled her to the bone to hear it.