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“It lit a fire within this water elemental,” I say.
And I mean it.
I will hold on to Raf’s emotion, keep it close to my chest, and remember that this war isn’t just for Isolde or Madigan or me... It’s for the Shades. The people on this island who fear because injustice has made them terrified to speak up for themselves. The tribes that will suffer at Nesta’s hands if we don’t stop her.
Raf pats my knee as he stands. “You’ve renewed my faith, Ada. I’m ready to aid when you need me.”
“Thank you, Raf,” I mumble, as the door to the clinic pops open.
“Have you seen Ada?” Imryll begins talking before he spots me. Then he rushes out, “Ada. Come on. We’ve got to go.”
He takes my hand and tugs me from my seat as if he’s in a hurry and can’t wait for my shorter legs to catch up. Imryll drags me along the path, his pace never faltering as we pass through the village square.
“Why are you running?” I finally ask.
“We need to hurry,” he calls over his shoulder.
I roll my eyes. It’s not like I didn’t gather that much on my own. “Where are we going again? I don’t recall you mentioning that before you pulled me away from Selmar and Raf.”
“I didn’t mention the destination.”
“Please don’t make me ask anymore questions,” I grumble. “Just tell me—”
“No,” he interrupts, tossing me a playful smirk. “We’re almost there. You’ll see.”
“Why are you so excited?”
He doesn’t answer me, instead stopping at the house next door to the Battlerains. I begin to argue about his manners as he walks in without knocking, but I hear Shyla giving directions before we completely cross the threshold.
“That’s it, darling,” she praises. “Nice and steady.”
“What the hell?” I whisper to myself, covering my mouth as we step into the room.
It’s cleared of furniture… Mostly. There’s a bed, a bath-bowl-thing, and three chairs. A pale and petrified man sits in one, staying out of the midwife’s way. His voice is lost until his wife shows pain.
“My love,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against her damp strawberry hair. “You’re almost done.”
Shyla bends to look under the woman’s sleeping gown. “I’m going to check you. I suspect it’s about time to start pushing.”
I quickly turn my back to the scene and glare at Imryll. “Give her some privacy.”
“I’m the attending doctor, Ada,” he states matter-of-factly as he grins. “I’m not here to be creepy.”
“That’s not what I said,” I retort, rubbing my forehead. “Why are you attending? And why did you bring me?”
“This is her fourth child. The risk goes up with each subsequent birth, so Shyla likes to have someone on hand,” he explains. “And I brought you with me to show you the circle of life. Death hurts us all, but new life follows on its heels.”
“That’s it,” Shyla repeats in excitement. “I can see hair.”
I take a peek over my shoulder and immediately regret it. On Earth, so many people say childbirth is beautiful… But it’s not. It’s gory and traumatic. My stomach sinks to my toes as tingles swirl through my limbs like miniature whirlpools.
“Would you like to see?” Shyla asks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, facing the wall once more. “Ada?”
I sigh as I turn slowly. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
It’s the worst distraction ever. There are fluids and some blood… and the baby is covered in white stuff that looks like—I don’t even know. Maybe damp flour? Or drying lip balm that’s been smeared over its skin?
I fight not to gag. Imy chuckles at me as if my comedic flair is the perfect welcome to the world gift.
