Zaira was still in bed. The sun had passed its zenith. She was face down on her pillow, which was still damp with old tears and drying blood. She felt bad about not getting up, but the heaviness in her limbs and the dread in her stomach were overwhelming. Her last case had been rough. A car crashed off a cliff. Family of five. No survivors. It didn't matter that this case had fewer deaths than what she had seen before, a death was a death. They always hit her hard, especially dead children.

“Sister?” Zaira heard Rushka call below her, in the entryway.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to talk to me.” She said into her pillow.

Rushka heard her anyway. They flew straight up through her bedroom floor. She heard a few footsteps on the floor before her bed shifted as Rushka sat down.

“Go away.”

They put their hand on her back and rubbed lightly. “You know it was nothing personal.”

“Mmm.”

“How are things?”

“Meh.” It was actually going decently well. With the melting of the snow and the increased visits to the Rosses, she felt better than she had in a long time. She’d even mustered up the courage to go to the library as a Yulmuth and had managed to read a couple chapters. Not that she was going to tell them any of this. She had also missed the angel terribly.

“I have something that might cheer you up.”

Zaira went to get up. It seems she didn’t actually move though as Rushka, a little irked, commanded; “Zaira. Get up.”

That snapped her out of her funk enough for her to slowly start getting up. Just to be irritating she made sure her wings brushed against Rushka as she stretched out.

“Seriously?”

Her wings were pushed to the side as she wiped the leftover moisture on her cheeks. That had been a mistake as she quickly had to wipe the blood from her hand onto the pillow before Rushka saw anything.

“Turn around.”

Zaira took another second to compose herself. She may have felt like crap, but she didn’t want to be more than mildly irritating towards Rushka. She took a few deep breaths, then slowly put her pillow bloody side down and ensured once again the glamour spell on her face was active.

She pivoted to look at Rushka. She instantly spotted the shock of blonde against their dark skin, then the bright pink dress. The child’s head was on Rushka’s shoulder; their little arms and legs were tucked under their body. The angel was probably bringing a lost little one home.

“Something like that.”

Zaira bared her teeth at the intrusion into her thoughts and closed up the mental barriers she had dropped overnight.

Rushka smirked. “I am bringing someone home.” They rubbed the child’s cheek. “Julia...” A wave of panic swept over Zaira, and all her glamour spells automatically went up. The child mumbled sleepily and looked up at Rushka, cranky. “Look who’s there.” Rushka, they pointed to Zaira, and the child’s head turned.

Zaira’s eyes widened as the girl’s frown turned into a bright smile. It was the little ghost. But alive? She had no time to contemplate before the baby hopped out of Rushka’s arms and into hers. She wrapped her arms around Zaira’s neck, squeezing tightly. Tears came to Zaira’s eyes and once the shock of the moment was over the woman returned the hug, wrapping her arms and wings around the little body. She kissed the top of the girl’s head and rocked them both.

“How?” Zaira croaked. She turned her head to look at Rushka, resting her cheek on the girl's hair.

Rushka wore a soft smile. “I put in a request to resurrect her for you. She fit all requirements; the request was granted.”

“Why?”

Rushka shrugged their shoulders. “Reasons.”

“She…is mine now?” Zaira asked hesitantly.

Rushka nodded.

“This is insane. She won’t fix anything; you are putting her in danger by placing her with me.”

“You are no danger to her. I know you will be a great mother. All I ask in return is that you go to therapy. Six months minimum.”

Zaira lifted the baby away from her for a moment looking at the wide blue eyes. Then brought her back to her chest. “Done.” She tightened her hold on the little girl. “Thank you.” She whispered. What else could she say?

In that moment all the things she needed to do to bring a child into her life didn’t cross her mind. She was simply happy. And it seemed the girl was as well. She had settled on Zaira’s lap, head on her chest and sucking on her fingers.

“What is her name?”

“It was decided you would choose it. She didn’t seem to respond well to her old name.” Rushka pulled some papers out of their ever bag. “These are the adoption papers. Fill them out by the end of the week or she will return to the Underworld.”

“Thank you.” Zaira moved to hug them. They returned the hug. It may have been a little tight as Julia, who had been relaxing into the cuddles, whined and tried pushing Rushka away. The adults laughed and pulled apart.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention, she is a witch.”

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“I won’t have to bury her then?” Zaira asked, wide-eyed. Rushka shook their head. A weight she had not noticed lifted off her shoulders.

Zaira leaned back a bit so she could look properly at the toddler or rather baby. She passed her thumb over Julia’s now warm rosy cheek and the girl smiled. The child was younger than had she previously believed. Zaira noticed only four teeth, two on top, two on the bottom with the top teeth only starting to emerge. The smile didn’t last long as the girl looked her over and let out a little confused sound.

The girl stood up on her lap. It was unclear if the unsteadiness in the

girl's legs was from having just been resuscitated or from being younger than Zaira had thought. Perhaps being a ghost allowed for greater mobility? The woman kept her hands on the girl’s hips to steady her as she waited to see what she was trying to do. Unexpectedly the child’s chest collided with her face as the baby’s hand felt around her head and soon found her currently invisible horns.

“Excuse me?” Zaira’s tone was firm but switched to slightly playful as she removed the tiny hands from her horns. “What do you think you are doing?”

Julia’s babbled answer was incoherent but seemed partially like a complaint, and partly like a question. She pointed to the space above her head. Zaira dropped all but the most important glamour spell. At this, the little girl squealed and playfully tapped Zaira’s face.

At first, Zaira flinched at the pain coming from her currently scabbed wounds but then couldn’t help but smile.

“See, you aren’t scary after all.”

She narrowed her eyes at the angel they shot her a smirk. She looked back to the toddler and her smile turned into a frown as blonde hair darkened to black. Zaira’s eyes widened when the blue eyes darkened until they matched her own obsidian eyes. Then the toddler’s facial features changed. At the end, Julia looked at her, proudly smiling. Zaira turned to an equally shocked Rushka, looking for an explanation. They were too busy staring at the child to answer her. Zaira went back to staring at the oblivious baby who could now pass as her own, if not for the lack of demonic features.

“That is not a glamour spell…” Zaira said. It wasn’t. The baby’s features had actually changed. Magic was no longer emanating from her.

“That is… Unexpected… But not unheard of…” Rushka mumbled more to themselves than Zaira.

Both had heard of children, more often those of magical backgrounds, changing their appearance. Sometimes the change was permanent, sometimes the ability to change their body was maintained. Though Zaira had only seen a handful in her lifetime. Not that she really conversed with others much.

Zaira brushed the short hair that had fallen into Julia’s face away. “You are smiling now; I am certain you will not appreciate looking like me when you are a teenager.” She warned.

The child listened, but the only answer was a playful cry and a bounce.

“I need to go.”

Zaira shifted her attention to Rushka. They had gotten up.

“Where are you headed?”

“Back to Anatolia. I’m not sure when I’ll see you again, I had to get special permission for today. Here. This is for you.” They held out a long red fabric embroidered with little gold flowers. “To carry your baby.”

She took it. “Thank you.” Still holding said baby, she stood and gave her ndugu a hug. “For everything. I’ve missed you; I’ll miss you.” She held them a bit longer than she had intended as excess emotion rolled down her face.

They returned the hug and stepped back. Giving her a slight smile, they unfurled their wings and took off upwards, through the top of the house.

Zaira had planned on spending the day in bed. Now, of course, her plans had changed.

“Ok, sweetheart.” She looked at the baby in her arms. “Where do we start?”

The baby only babbled in response. Zaira knew she would have to keep an eye on the girl’s reactions and emotions. She should have asked Rushka if they knew anything of the girl’s background. Did she come from a good home? Did she have any living relatives? How did she come to be trapped with such an evil entity?

“We need to get you all settled in.”

The girl babbled once more as Zaira started moving. She laid her head down on her new mother’s shoulder, one hand in her mouth, the other clutching long black hair tightly.

As Zaira’s descended the stairs the joy at seeing the child again was overpowered by doubt. She had been so happy to see the girl again she hadn’t stopped to think as to whether she should take her in. She couldn’t even keep her own son alive; how did she think she was going to keep a witch alive?

She rounded the corner at the end of the staircase and spotted a few baskets in the entryway. In them were enough provisions to last a couple of days.

A book drew Zaira’s attention. She picked it up.

Cross-species adoptions

Your guide to raising witches

VOL I – Baby & Toddler

Gods bless Rushka.

She noticed volumes II-IV in the baskets as well. She would be reading them all very thoroughly.

“Look at that!” She said enthusiastically, bending down to pick up a stuffed bear. “It’s a little bear! You like those.”

She placed the bear in Julia’s line of sight. The one little hand reached out and grabbed onto the bear, pulling it close, holding it just as tightly as she was gripping Zaira’s hair.

Zaira brushed her hand through Baby's hair. The girl probably needs to settle in before returning to the baby she’d come to know.

She sat in the rocking chair. Giving them both time to digest the past half-hour.

After about an hour or so Zaira tried again to get the girl to play, this time with the doll she liked so much as a ghost. No luck.

Zaira saddened. How come such a young child, whom she knew to be very playful, had no interest in playing? Though, being resuscitated could probably throw anyone into a loop.

Zaira wondered, did Julia remember, even subconsciously, her years of being dead and trapped? Did she remember her life beforehand?

Zaira squeezed the girl a little tighter. For now, and forever really, Zaira would hold the girl as much as she wanted to be held.

She wrapped the girl to her chest with Rushka’s gift and started unpacking. As she went, she made a list of things she would need.

Why would the Underworld approve the resurrection? Why did Julia get a direct resurrection instead of her soul being resorted like the rest? And why did they approve Zaira as the girl’s guardian? Surely, they knew what she was?

Rushka had also thought to give her a car seat. That would come in handy tomorrow. Some plastic dishes, a couple changes of clothes, diapers…

Maybe they didn’t know? What if she sent in the adoption papers and they realized their mistake? They would take the baby and arrest her?

She shook those thoughts away. Another problem for another day.

A diaper change later, she had finished her list with the help of the book. She made sure to include a fire extinguisher and repair kits for the eventuality that Julia would break something due to uncontrolled magic. She may also want to buy a name book. A few ideas skirted around her mind, but she found none adequate enough to speak.

The baby started whining. Zaira called it time for food. She had some leftover cooked green beans from the day before. She mashed some and cut some into small pieces, unsure of what Julia would eat. She did check the book for help, but it seemed she was at that age where it could be anything, she may not have even been weaned yet.

The chicken went in the oven, and she sat down at the table, Baby on her lap. She picked up a piece of green bean.

“Hey, sweetie.” She said.

The baby buried herself deeper into Zaira’s shoulder. Zaira scrunched up her face in multiple different ways to tempt to girl to eat. The baby just turned her head away. The mashed beans were slapped away. After several tries and much whining and crying later, Zaira was about to try the now-cooled chicken when the baby finally let her know what she wanted. The baby ‘tap-tapped’ her breast.

Baby wasn’t particularly happy to receive a bottle instead but many tears later the girl finally relented.

A repeat happened at bedtime, but unfortunately, no matter how much the baby cried, Zaira couldn’t breastfeed her. The debacle did seem to tire her out though as Zaira managed to rock her to sleep relatively easily.

Zaira placed the baby in a straw basket she had covered in fabric. In the absence of a crib, this would do. Just as it had worked for her son, and countless babies before. Her son never had a bed of his own. He’d just slept in his basket until Zaira wasn’t afraid to co-sleep. It wasn’t like she’d had another option; they couldn’t afford another bed.

Baby scrunched up in her sleep, fists balled tightly, threatening to wake up. Zaira laid a hand on her chest. Baby took a few quick breaths, giving the impression she was about to cry, but the next breath was deep, and so was the next. Baby relaxed and drifted off fully.

Zaira crept down the stairs to not wake the sleeping child. Her sleeping child. She smiled. She had come down to fill out the paperwork and… Place someone very important.

She had decided. This had been that final push she had needed.

She had friends. The forest was welcoming. And she had someone to live for. No matter what came next, she would fight for that baby.

As she moved towards the fireplace, she brushed her fingers over the beautifully decorated box in her hands. It was a dark walnut, a forest river scene painted over the lid. Resisting the urge to open the box, she placed it on the fireplace. This was home now. She placed the wooden horse next to her son; he would have loved it.

She sat herself at the kitchen table with the paperwork and started to fill it out. Leaving out the baby’s name, mentioning the changing appearance in ‘Child Description’, and thinking of what she would have to do tomorrow to get the house baby-friendly. No more moving through objects. Well, if that wasn’t included in the girl’s range of natural magic. Zaira hoped not.

Once that was done, she flipped open the growth book and started reading it properly. She was planning on reading until morning, but Baby started crying so she went to check on her. She settled in bed with the girl on her chest after a nappy change.

Zaira thumbed to find the page on uncontrollable magic. According to the book, it was still early. But perhaps that change in appearance signaled this little one was ahead of the curve.

She also pondered breastfeeding, sure the little one was on the cusp of needing proper food but for her species it was acceptable to continue breastfeeding for another couple of years. It would also mean she wouldn’t need to prep a bottle. She passed a finger over a soft cheek. Even more so, she wanted to try this with this new baby. She remembered how nice it had felt to be able to do that with her son. It would be a way to bond with her daughter. And if it didn’t work, then it wasn’t the end of the world.

Zaira didn't put the baby down the whole night. She spent her time staring at the child, squishing a hand, petting a cheek, or stroking Callie’s soft dark hair.

Calliope - yes. That name kept coming to her.

In the morning big dark eyes opened and looked at her.

“Good morning, Callie.”

She was rewarded with a big smile.