“Alright, Aelani, this is it. You’re nearly finished. Now PUSH!”
Vasi’s voice was firm and commanding as she crouched between the tora’s straining thighs. The woman had been in labor all the previous day and night and the sun was now sinking on her second full day of struggle. Exhaustion showed plainly on Aelani’s pallid features.
“Oh, Black Goddess, I can’t,” she wailed, dropping her head back onto the pillow. She panted hard as another contraction crushed across her swollen abdomen and her knuckles turned white as she clenched a twisted length of sheet. “Vasi, I can’t!”
Vasi looked up. Wisps of pale hair had long ago escaped her neat bun and now stuck to the sides of her ruddy face.
“You can and you must. Your babe is eager to join us. Just a little more and it will be over, I promise. Now push!”
Enari stood at her Sura’s shoulder, dressed in the long white tunic and matching loose trousers worn by all midwives and their apprentices, waiting for instructions. Her worried eyes flicked back and forth between the tora’s sweating face and Vasi’s crouched form.
It had been nearly two days and the baby had not crowned, seeming reluctant to enter the world. Tora Aelani strained and cried out, but no progress was made. Vasi glanced up at her apprentice and spoke softly, wiping her blood-smeared hands on a towel between her knees.
“I want to make one last attempt to determine the babe’s positioning, but I cannot do so through an external examination. Your hands are smaller, Enari, and you’ll cause her less pain.” Rising and putting a hand to her back, Vasi spoke to the prone woman.
“Aelani, I believe your baby is turned to the breech position. I had hoped that time would turn him or her correctly, but this hasn’t happened. I need to examine you inside and see if the babe can be adjusted. Enari is going to assist me in this, as her hand is smaller and should cause you less discomfort. Do I have your permission to proceed?”
Aelani’s frightened eyes shone fever-bright as she solemnly considered midwife and novice, but she finally nodded and closed her eyes.
“Do what you must.”
Taking Enari’s right hand in hers, Vasi inspected the nails to be sure there was no dirt beneath them or ragged edges. Satisfied, she fished a small pot of oil from her bag and greased Enari’s arm to the elbow. The smell of lavender filled the small chamber.
Enari did as instructed, wincing at the look of pain that flashed across the tora’s face at the intrusion. Hesitating, she glanced up at Vasi, who only nodded. Muscles clamped against her fingers and she halted, glancing at Vasi again, concern and uncertainty written clearly on her face.
“I know this is difficult, but I need you to relax as much as possible. We’ll be quick.”
The pressure eased and Enari slid her hand inside the tora’s body very slowly. She reached, but felt nothing. Vasi pressed on her elbow, urging her deeper.
Finally, her fingers touched something that moved weakly, just a tiny flutter of motion…
“What do you feel?”
Enari patted the tora’s foot with her free hand and Vasi’s face crumpled.
“It is as I feared. Withdraw and clean yourself. I have another task for you.”
The tora grunted in relief when the novice had fully withdrawn her hand. Enari moved to the basin beside the blazing hearth and quickly washed the blood and other discharge from her arm. Drying her hands, she returned to Vasi, who was once again crouched at the foot of the bed.
Vasi spoke without looking up, “Go out into the hall and bring the High Mage to me, quietly.”
Enari turned away and slipped from the birthing room into the small, stuffy antechamber. Anya paced fretfully, her face twisting in sympathy with her mother’s increasingly feeble screams. She was wearing the same rumpled clothing she'd been in the last time Enari had seen her, more than twelve hours ago and she looked dreadful. The dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes stood out like livid bruises.
The torina looked up at her hopefully, but she merely shook her head and approached the High Mage.
Eryk was standing with his back to the room, but glanced down when Enari tugged his tunic. She beckoned him and he followed.
His sister lay on the bed, eyes closed and chest rising shallowly. She was, by now, too exhausted to even cry out when the contractions ripped through her. She clenched a length of torn sheet in her hands and clutched it so hard her knuckles stood out white against her already pale skin. She looked shriveled and shrunken, except for the great mound of her belly.
Vasi stood, drawing the sheet down to cover her patient’s naked lower half, and came to him. She directed Enari to wipe the tora’s face with a cool cloth and give her some water, then led Eryk to a corner. When she spoke, it was barely above a murmur.
“The babe refuses to come. I’ve examined her and he’s turned round the wrong way.” Her eyes were the only indicator of the true worry she felt.
“How can I help?” Eryk forced his voice to remain calm and tried to banish the rising fear to a dim corner of his mind.
He'd been called to serve at a breech birth once, by a terrified young Hendai herdsman camped near the Tower. The man had been shown into Eryk’s reading room by a baffled and uneasy adept who, not speaking or understanding the Hendai tongue, could not comprehend what had his guest so distraught. Eryk knew a little Hendai and the other spoke enough Egali that the message was finally conveyed. The man and his wife were returning from the Great Market when she’d gone into early and unexpected labor.
Even though Eryk had no training or experience in midwifery, he'd been unable to refuse the man's desperate pleading and pitiful cries. He’d had gone with him, arriving to find the screaming woman writhing on a pile of blankets within a hastily pitched tent. He tried to examine her, earning a strong kick in the face for his efforts, and administered something for her terrible pain. Despite his best endeavors, in the end the baby was born bottom first, tearing its mother open to bleed to death while they’d been helpless to stop it.
But he had no time to pay heed to fears or memories now, not with his sister’s life in jeopardy.
“I need your assistance to turn him,” Vasi was saying, “I’ve tried to move him from inside, but he’s wedged in such that I can’t without injuring him. Your hands are stronger than mine and I may need you to push for her. She’s at the end of her strength, so there isn’t much time. Can you do it?”
Eryk nodded. “Just tell me what to do, Vasi.”
She grinned tiredly. “It’s good to work with a competent man for once. Most would balk and a few of them over the years have fainted.” Her smile vanished. “You are going to hurt her, but there’s no other way to do this and bring them both through safely.”
* * *
Enari wiped the cool cloth across the tora’s face, gently brushing the tangled hair away from the woman’s fevered skin. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly.
“Thank you, Enari.” She licked her dry lips. “You are very brave to stay, especially for one so young. The kvinna should be proud.”
Enari touched Tora Aelani’s face and tried to convey reassurance. She’d never seen a birth drag on for so long and the tora's age worried her, as it worried Vasi. She took the woman’s hand, noting how icy it felt in her grasp. She rubbed the fingers, attempting to chafe some warmth into the chilled flesh. As another contraction tore through her, Aelani reflexively clutched Enari’s hand almost hard enough to break bones. Enari glanced up at Vasi and the High Mage, wishing they would hurry up and do something to end this suffering. It seemed an eternity that they conversed, but finally they returned to the bed together.
“Aelani, Eryk’s here to help us. Your babe is still turned the wrong way and we must move him. I’m sorry, but this is going to be painful.”
Vasi spoke quickly as she moved Eryk where she needed him. His large hands were splayed across his sister’s stomach and he could feel each contraction as her muscles tensed and relaxed in rapid succession. There was very little time between them now.
Following Vasi’s directions, he probed and then twisted both hands in a circular motion. Aelani shrieked as if she were being gutted, but Vasi instructed him “Again. Once more.” and he did as ordered. He felt something inside the laboring woman shift and ease and suddenly Vasi cried out joyfully.
“Perfect! Enari, here, hold the towel and be ready. Eryk, lift her up!”
Eryk moved to the head of the bed, put a knee to the mattress, and lifted Aelani beneath the shoulders as Vasi commanded the woman to push. Aelani did, bearing down and groaning loudly.
After a moment, there was a liquid sound, a long pause, and a thin wail. Laughing and weeping, Aelani collapsed against her brother’s supporting arm, turning her face into his chest as tears of joy and relief flooded down her cheeks.
“Careful. Support his head.”
Enari held the bloody, mewling bundle as Vasi used a knife to sever the umbilical cord. She stared in wonder at the red and wrinkled little face. He was so tiny it scared her. What could be his chances of survival being born so soon?
“Take him to the fire and clean him. I’ll finish here. She’s still bleeding.” Vasi directed, turning back to the exhausted woman and talking her through the final stages of the birth process.
Enari rose and took the baby over to the hearth. She knelt down and, using her hands and the soft cloths left floating in the pan of warmed water, cleaned the blood and mucus away. The infant was still and she could feel his chest struggling to rise. She turned for Vasi, but she was bent over the tora, back to the fire.
A figure in the shadowy corner beyond the hearth stones caught her eye as she turned back.
He was tall, lean, and silver-haired. Not the silver of old age, but that of pure starlight. His lightning-blue eyes were watching her intently. Their disconcerting and unblinking gaze slowly shifted to the baby and Enari reflexively tried to shield the tiny body.
“It is time. I claim this one as mine for the Goddess herself, to fulfill a bargain struck.” The raspy whisper echoed and rang as if coming from within the depths of a long-dry well.
When Enari looked down, the baby’s lips were turning blue and she could hear quiet choking. Quickly, she pried open his mouth and swept her pinky inside, clearing out a thick greenish substance.
Still, the infant didn’t draw breath. Enari turned him gently onto his stomach and patted his back. He coughed weakly but just once.
Turning him onto his back again, she pinched his nose shut and blew gently into the open mouth.
Nothing.
Blowing a little harder this time, she watched his chest rise one time but no more. She turned him over and patted his back again, using a little more force in her panic.
Looking up, she met the God-Consort’s eyes squarely. It had taken her a moment, but she recognized him for who and what he was.
“You can’t have him, Dusan! Be gone from this place. There will be no death here today.”
Dusan smiled, an ancient and knowing expression, and held out his hand.
A purple vapor rose from between the tiny lips and coalesced into the misty shape of an infant. It moved towards the Guardian as if drawn by a magnet and she could do nothing but watch it go.
The little form beneath her hands fell still.
* * *
“My baby?” Aelani struggled to rise and look around Eryk, searching for Vasi’s apprentice and her child.
“A beautiful healthy boy, my tora. You’ll have him in just a moment.” Vasi replied.
Eryk eased his sister back to the pillows and turned towards the fire, concern rising in his chest.
The baby wasn’t crying.
He took a step away from the bed and from there, he could see over Enari’s shoulder. She knelt before the fire and the infant lay across her knee, deathly still and silent. He watched as the girl removed her mouth from the darkening face. There was no breath or movement from the still form and the little lips were tinged with blue.
Oh, Goddess.
* * *
Enari felt furious tears sting her eyes. The tora had labored for two full days to birth her son, and now he was dying. She glanced around one last time, only to find the High Mage and Vasi still intent on Tora Aelani.
A voice like cobwebs and crystalline chimes sounded in her head, startling and painful in its authority.
“The gift is given unto you, Enari Ihil Hithaerien, daughter of Tanith Minal Hithaerien, and a choice. Knit the broken strands of body and soul and return this life to its vessel, if that be your true will. But choose with care, for all choices have a consequence.”
The wall between her will and her power shattered like a pane of glass struck with a hammer. Power flooded into her and Enari knew there really was no choice in this.
Crooking her fingers, she beckoned and the purple cloud halted, hovering in midair for a moment before reversing direction and streaking back towards her. She gathered it up and, placing her palm over the unmoving chest, she let the power course from her and into the torin, pushing his essence back into his body.
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done and the magic burned as it left her. A golden light, so bright it nearly blinded her, mingled with the essence of the infant in her lap. Time seemed to stretch and stretch and stretch before snapping back with a suddenness that took the pain and light with it.
Enari found herself holding a very loudly alive, and very angry, newborn. Two tears of relief fell onto his upturned face before she could dash them away.
* * *
Oh Goddess, the baby wasn’t crying.
He watched as Enari darted a glance around before settling her eyes on the shadowy hearth corner. She put a hand over the baby’s chest, palm down with her middle and ring finger pressed together. There was a flash of light and Eryk faintly caught an oddly astringent scent.
The baby opened his mouth, drew a long shuddering breath, and began to bawl furiously.
The girl’s shoulders sagged in relief and two tears fell from her tightly closed eyes.
* * *
Unaware that any had seen, Enari began to swaddle the now clean torin. He opened silver-flecked eyes so blue they were like the bowl of a summer sky and gazed up at her, tears rolling down his fat little cheeks.
Odd, but she'd thought his eyes were dark before, like his father’s had been, but then she’d only glimpsed them for a second and she could have been wrong. He had a full head of black hair and he bore none of the squashed features common among many newborns. He quieted as she wrapped him in a warm blanket and was asleep by the time she rose and took him to his mother. Enari couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from the infant and was reluctant to release him.
Aelani held out her arms, a smile of weary joy lighting her face. She pulled back the blanket, and as any mother does, counted the baby’s tiny fingers and toes. Eryk had slipped away to bring news of the boy’s birth to his anxious siblings.
“Oh, he’s perfect,” Aelani whispered. She looked up at Enari with a small frown. “When I didn’t hear him crying, I was afraid…”
“Ayden.”
The tora sucked in a startled breath and Vasi turned slowly. The two women stared, mouths agape.
“What did you say?” the tora breathed.
“Ayden,” Enari repeated clearly, “Last but greatest of yours. The Goddess has seen him and his father sends his blessings.” Her voice was soft and deep and it carried power. She reached out and trailed a finger along the torin’s cheek and he turned his mouth, trying to suckle even as he slept. After a breath she removed her hand and, bowing quickly, turned and hurried from the room.
Aelani stared at Vasi, a mix of wonder and fear in her eyes.
“I thought she couldn’t speak and Black Goddess, Vasi, did you see her eyes?”
“She’s never spoken a single word, not once in the years I’ve known her…”
“Her eyes, Vasi! Did you see her eyes?”
“How could I not?”