The solidness of Pyre was a comfort. His arms drew her into safe place. He had always been her haven. She looked up at him and asked, “What are you doing here?” Her eyes strayed from Pyre to Renate, then back to Pyre. She didn’t ask any more questions. She knew.
Pyre said, “I am needed here to help a life into the world.”
The truth of Pyre’s words stung. Fand could not pretend any longer. Renate was in certain danger and so was her child. This might end badly. It could. At that moment, Fand could not help but think of her own mother. This child, if it lived would grow up without at mother or father just like she had. Poor babe, if it lived. Oh it must live. She turned frightened eyes to Pyre. He said, “I will do everything I can, I promise.” He looked at Rufus. “Bring that table closer. Fand light some candles. We need to get Renate situated. Her contractions are getting very close.”
When the table was placed beside the bed and fresh candles had been put on it, Fand saw the instruments of birth, a large sharp knife, a bag of herbs, several lengths of string, a knotted towel, a strange bladder sort of thing and a stack of folded cloths. Renate lay propped up in bed. Her face had a ghostly pallor. Listlessly she stroked her swollen belly. Her weary eyes sought out Fand’s face. Then another contraction began. The spasm rocked her body. Through clenched teeth Renate said, “It has begun.”
Though pale and obviously frightened, Pyre propped up Renate’s knees and stuck his hand gently between her legs. He said, “Yes, the baby has started to crown. Fand take her hand. She is going to need your strength.”
Fand did as she was told. She was vaguely aware of Rufus and the goat huddled near the cupboard. Taking Renate’s hand in her own, she felt the tension of the other woman, she felt her out right pain. It hurt to bring life into the world, it hurt so much. Renate’s grip increased as her body contracted.
Pyre said, “The baby is moving. Push Renate, push!”
A terrible grunt came from Renate as she bore down. Through her hand Fand was instantly aware that Renate’s heart beat was unsteady. It was racing like a wild thing by jumps and skips. Energy, white cold energy flowed from Fand’s arm into her hand and into Renate. The power was not her own. It was something else, something she had only experienced when she had held Jerim's relic. How could this power come to her now? Her arm felt like ice, burning cold. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pain. She hoped the surge of energy would steady Renate’s heart, she prayed it had come to give her what she needed to survive this ordeal.
The contraction stopped. Renate lay back, limp and breathless. Her hand still gripped Fand’s. She did not speak, did not seem to notice the cold that Fand was so very aware of.
From what seemed like a long way away, Pyre said, “The next one for sure.”
Fand turned from Renate to Pyre. Their eyes met. She did not like what she read in them. He was worried. The blood of birth was on him. So much blood. It took all the resolve Fand had to give Pyre a smile of encouragement. He did not return her smile, but he did nod.
They waited. The goat bleated softly. Fand glanced at Rufus. The young man clung to the goat. His eyes were closed and he was green. Keeper she hoped he wouldn’t be sick. She couldn’t deal with that right now.
All at once Renate’s finger’s stiffened in hers. She groaned and pushed. The veins in her forehead popped up, purple tinged and throbbing.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Pyre said, “The baby is coming.”
A sound like Fand had never heard before squelched. Into Pyre’s waiting hands, a baby came. Softly he said, “A girl.”
Zog had a girl. She was covered in slime, but healthy and kicking. Pyre grabbed the bladder thing and sucked the mucus out of the baby's nose and mouth. A sharp angry cry exploded from the tiny baby. Carefully Pyre checked her shoulders.
Renate whispered, "Wing buds?"
"No."
This answer seemed to please Renate. A weak smile played upon her lips. Pyre put the baby on Renate's chest.
Renate let go of Fand’s hand and wrapped her arms around her child.
With deft fingers, Pyre tied off the umbilical cord, then sliced through it. More blood. So much blood. Fand eyes went back to Renate's face. Her lips brushed against the baby’s forehead. She whispered, “Bye little one, your brother will take good care of you.” Her eyes rolled back in her head and she stopped breathing. Pyre whisked the baby off of Renate and shoved her into Fand’s arms. Angry at the rough removal from her mother, the baby began to wail.
Though covered in sticky birth fluid, Fand held the child up to her cheek and murmured in her ear. Pyre frantically felt Renate’s wrist and then her jugular vein. He laid his head on her chest. He was trying to hear a heart beat. By his expression Fand knew he was not finding one. No, no this must not be happening! It must not! But it was. This precious child would never remember the sound of her mother’s voice. Never again feel the touch of her hand, never know the love only a mother could give. It was wrong!
Pyre stood up. “She’s gone. Rufus, there is a basin in the cupboard. Get it out and put some warm water in it. Fand, clean up the baby while I attend to Renate.”
They all began to move, even the goat. Fand tried to keep her focus on the baby and not on what Pyre was doing. While she gently washed the wiggling newborn, she was amazed that something so tiny could be so strong and so fragile at the same time. Clean and pink, Fand wrapped the baby in a blanket. Her tiny eyes opened. They were dark and murky, not blue. She had heard that sometimes babies’ eyes changed color. She prayed this child’s eyes would not. The downy hair on the baby’s head was black. It glistened in the candlelight. She felt Pyre’s hand upon her arm. She looked into his eyes. They were gentle with wonder. He whispered, “She is beautiful. I think she has Zog’s chin.”
Fand stared at the tiny chin. It was indeed a miniature replica of Zog’s. This baby was bone of her bone. To Pyre she said, “When you take her to Uncle Wert, tell him, that she is Zog’s child. It will help ease the loss of me.” In that moment Fand realized that because of her damn wings, she would never get to see this child grow up. Never! Could the things be removed without killing her? A tear slid down her cheek.
Pyre squeezed her arm and then let go. “I will relay your message to Uncle Wert. Do not give up hope just yet. Perhaps another miracle will occur and you will be able to go home.”
Silently, Fand shook her head. “I think my miracles are all used up.That this child is alive is truly all the miracle I need at the moment.” It had to be enough for now.
Pyre gave her a quick hug and said, “Rufus and I need to move Renate into the cavern. We will make a cairn for her. The baby needs to be fed. Good thing I brought milk.” He looked at Fand with such tenderness, it made her want to cry. He said, “Renate has some teat bags in the cupboard. Do you know how to fill one?”
“Of course.” Fand had fed many a newborn creature on the farm.
“Good then.” He turned from her and went back to Renate’s body. Fand could not bear to look at it. She turned to the cupboard and realized, she could not make a teat and hold a baby at the same time. To put the baby down meant turning toward her bed, which meant she would see Pyre and Rufus carrying Renate out. She closed her eyes and held the baby close. The child’s sweet breath brushed against her skin. Her tiny heart beat strongly beneath her skin. When Pyre and Rufus were in the cavern, Fand took the baby to the bed and lay her down. The child did not like being separated from her and began to wail. Crying was supposed to be good for babies, at least that was what Zolla said, and Zolla would know. She was one of the few women in Tashe who managed to keep all her babies alive. Still the wee thing was hungry. Swiftly Fand heated milk, made a teat and poured goat milk into it.
When she took the teat to the baby and placed it upon her lips, the child needed no instruction. She grabbed on hard, and sucked even harder. Life was in this child. Glorious determined life!