Marker of Hope (28 page)

“Nah. Big parties aren’t my thing. You want
some pancakes?”

“Mmm…” She nodded. “But first, I need to make
a perimeter run. I won’t be long, madam.”

“I thought we agreed not to call me that
anymore,” I said as she left.

Ayrie peeked her head back into the kitchen.
“For the seventeenth time, no, we didn’t. Be back in five.”

“It was worth a try,” I said.

“Stop trying,” Ayrie yelled from the hallway,
and then I heard the front door slam, announcing her exit.

As I finished beating the pancake mix, I felt
something wet gliding down my legs. I dropped the bowl on the
counter and stared at the puddle on the floor. Had I spilled water?
Then I realized…

“I peed,” I said out loud. “But how…?”

I heard a gasp and looked up. Frederick’s
crooked face expressed disgust.

“Well, color me embarrassed,” I said. “I was
five years old the last time this happened.”

“Uh… I’m no doctor,” Frederick fidgeted, “but
I think your water broke.”

“That’s what this is?” I blinked once at him.
“You mean I’m having a baby?”

“Yes,” he said. “But don’t panic.”

“Frederick, I’m in labor,” I said. He nodded.
“Holy shit.” I looked at the wet floor. “Holy shit, Frederick! What
should I do?”

“If you could hold off on having the baby
right this very minute, that’d be great.”

“Okay. Yeah.” I nodded. “Sure.” I breathed
deep. “So, like, how do I do that?”

“Very good question. And one I wish I could
answer, but I’ve never been in labor—on the count I don’t have the
correct reproductive organs to incubate a fetus—so I have no
idea.”

“I’m panicking. I’m panicking. I’m
panicking!”

“Isis, madam, you’re an intelligent girl.
Most of the time
. I’m sure you can figure it out.” He took
my arm, pulled me out of the puddle, and then dropped a kitchen
towel on the wet floor. “Stay right here. I’ll get someone to look
after you while I get the doctors.” He looked back at me from the
kitchen door. “Stay. Calm.”

“You’re telling me to stay calm when you look
like you’re about to pass out?”

“I might, after I vomit,” he said, and then
left.

***

I’d been preparing for this day for months,
and at last, it arrived. My stomach ached. I didn’t know if it was
from contractions or nerves. The medical equipment and birthing bed
had been set up in Sub Terra, in a room I hadn’t yet seen. After
showering and slipping into a medical gown, Sub Terra was where I
was headed.

Frederick opened the door under the stairs,
previously a bathroom, revealing the lift installed two weeks
prior. It was a small-capacity elevator. I wondered if I’d fit
alongside David. We boarded the elevator, and Ayrie closed the wire
mesh door.

“I’ll come down with your mother as soon as
she gets here,” Ayrie said.

“You called my mom?” I asked.

“No. My mother did,” David said. “I asked her
to. I thought you might want her present.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “I do. Thank you.
Where’s Galilea?”

“I don’t know,” Ayrie said. “She said
something about a surprise and ran off. Do have any other concerns,
madam?” I shook my head. “Good luck. I’ll see you soon.”

David lowered a lever, setting the elevator
in motion. We descended through darkness with a dull yellow light
illuminating the top of our heads. The loud metal clank of the
elevator gears irritated my ears, discouraging conversation. I felt
the muscles in my lower back and abdomen twisting crueler and with
more frequency than before. Why was the elevator ride taking so
long? I needed to sit down.

“How deep are we going?” I asked David in
almost a scream.

“Enough to where we considered it safe.”

After a few minutes, the lift stopped with an
ear-aching screech of metal against metal. Unlike the first time
I’d been underground, light flooded the tunnel. This tunnel,
however, was a lot wider than the one Frederick had led us through
four months earlier, about the span of a house. The faces of more
than two-dozen armed warriors—faces of men and women I’d never seen
before—greeted me. A male stepped forward and opened the elevator’s
door. David took my hand, and I exited the small box that’d carried
us down. My foot touched the ground, and, in unison, the
warriors—my warriors—dropped to one knee and raised a fist over
their heads.

“Say ‘at ease’,” David spoke into my ear.
“Say it loudly.”

“At ease!” I said, and the soldiers rose to
their feet.

“Welcome, Madam Isis, Master Dahveed of
Chios,” the warrior deity who’d opened the door said. “I’m Sendor.
I’ll be transporting you to your quarters.”

“Thank y—” I felt another contraction deep in
my belly, and I squeezed David’s hand. The pain intensified, making
my breath hitch. This was by far the strongest one yet. So strong
in fact, it made me lose my balance. David caught my arms and
righted me. As the pain was receding, another aching wave began.
“Son of a bi… Aahh!” I shook from the pain.

“Isis,” David said. “Do you need to lie
down?”

I nodded. “That one really hurt.”

“Do you have a vehicle ready?” David
asked.

“Yes, sir.” Sendor turned toward the group of
warriors and screamed, “Bring the carrus!”

The warriors stepped aside, making way for a
vehicle that looked like a long golf cart. It came to a stop a few
feet away from us. The back of the carrus was lined with white
padding. David carried me up and lay me on the bed. He sat next to
me. Sendor ordered the driver out of the cart, and he took the
wheel.

The rocky path didn’t help the contractions,
which became more frequent and harsher still. How was that
possible? I’d been fine a few minutes ago. Wasn’t labor supposed to
take hours? Then it dawned on me that it could be hours of this
excruciating pain. I closed my eyes and breathed deep breaths as
David cradled my head.

“Oh my…” I grunted. “Tell him—to
drive—faster. It’s…” I let out a short scream and felt the urge to
push.

“Is the baby coming
now
?” David asked.
I nodded. “Already?” Reluctantly, he raised my gown by the hem. I
saw his eyes widen. “Stop!” David banged on the back window of the
vehicle. “Sendor, stop!”

The carrus came to a standstill. Two seconds
later, Sendor was at the bed of the vehicle. “What’s wrong?”

Over my huffs and puffs, I heard David inform
him, “The baby’s coming.”

“We’re five minutes from the birthing
quarters. We can make it,” said Sendor.

“No,” David said, sweat beads forming on his
brow. “We shouldn’t move her. Can you go and bring the doctors back
here on foot?”

“But I’m not supposed to leave her side,
Sir,” Sendor said.

“Go,” I said.

“But, madam—” Sendor started.

“I don’t care! I’m ordering you—to go,” I
growled.

“Y-yes, madam,” Sendor said and raced
away.

I felt another wave of pain coming, and I
clenched my teeth. The pressure in my pelvic area worsened. I
gasped. David knelt between my legs and lifted the hospital gown.
He wiped his forehead and swallowed.

“You’re crowing,” he said. “Isis, we’re going
to have to do this ourselves.” He reached for my hand. “Okay,
lovely?”

Panic and pain drenched me in sweat. What did
David know about delivering babies?

“Have you—ever—done this—before?” I asked,
taking shuddering breaths.

“Have you?”

Not the answer I wanted to hear. I felt my
insides pulling apart, urging me to release the new life it’d
incubated for nine months. But I didn’t know if I’d be able to
endure the labor of childbirth. So I did something I hadn’t done in
a long time—I prayed.

***

Clutched between David’s hands was a
miniature human being. His eyes spoke of undying admiration as he
studied her petite, fragile body. The sound of her wails made me
laugh and cry at the same time. Our daughter was the most perfect
baby I’d ever seen. Even through a veil of tears, her innocent
beauty shined through. David cuddled her in his arms, her newborn
cries ongoing.

“I think she wants her mother,” David said,
setting the baby on my chest. Her cries died down in a matter of
seconds. “I was right.”

“She’s so beautiful,” I said.

“Just like her mother.” David kissed my
forehead. “Thank you. She’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Speaking of gifts, happy birthday,” I said
to him. “Now, you have a reason to celebrate it.”

“So sweet.” Sendor was back and standing by
the side of the carrus. “Afraid I’ll have to ruin this
picture-perfect moment, however.” His eyes glowed like orange-hot
embers. “She’s ours now.”

CHAPTER 32

By instinct, I cradled my newborn daughter
tighter against my chest. David jumped off the carrus.

“If you’re wise, you’ll stand down, boy,”
Sendor sneered.

It was so fast that I didn’t see how it
happened, but a second later, Sendor collided with the ground.
David’s forearm was wedged into his throat. All of a sudden,
Sendor’s head split in two. Galilea materialized out of thin air,
next to David. Sendor’s head hadn’t erupted open on its own. It was
Galilea who’d split it in half with the dagger she was holding. A
cloud of black flying insects exploded out of Sendor’s cranium,
zooming in my direction. A sphere of pests encased the baby and me,
shutting out the light and replacing it with a dim, orange glow. My
skin crawled as I felt the vibration of their buzz near my ears. I
drew into myself, hovering over my newborn to protect her.

The insects’ hums fell into sync. With a
noise that sounded like static, I heard the words, “Join us.” There
was a pause. “Or your people die.”

At that moment, I realized Sendor had been
referring to me when he’d said ‘she’s ours now’.

“Why should I?” I asked. “You have nothing
I’m interested in.”

“Do this, and you’ll be our queen. You’ll
help us rise from the infernal depths we were banished to.”

“You want a queen of demons? That’s what this
is about?”

“Yessss,” the insects hissed. “In turn, we’ll
eradicate those who have sent us to end yours and the child’s
lives.”

I heard David scream my name from the other
side of the vermin wall.

“If you decline,” the static voice said, “the
child takes your place.”

Like a kick to the stomach, the words knocked
the air out of my lungs. At the same time, a hole opened in the
sphere. I saw fire burning the bugs, and I caught a glimpse of
David, holding a torch.

“Isis!” David called out me.

“David!” I reached out to him.

The bugs let out a squeal and seemed to
multiply, closing the gap the fire had made.

“We need an answer!” the insects’ angry buzz
intensified.

I cradled my daughter as close to me as I
could without hurting her. “
No
! I won’t be your demon queen,
and neither will my daughter. If you want her, you’ll have to kill
me first.”

“As—you—wish.”

The swarm of bugs let out a hair-raising
shriek. I felt a sting of electricity entering the back of my neck.
It traveled like fire through my arms. Fighting against the current
to keep my daughter safe in my arms, I quivered. I was too spent
from the labor of the birth to fight back. My arms began to give,
and the baby fell on my lap. Bugs gathered on the baby’s arms and
face, her frightened wails breaking my heart. As hard as I tried to
reach her, the electric current in my body rendered me immobile. I
was at their mercy.

“Stop! Stop!” I screamed. “I’ll do it. I’ll
go.”

“Good girl,” the bugs buzzed. “The
brotherhood Turpis will be back for you tonight.”

“But I need time to recover from the birth,”
I said. “I need to regain my strength for whatever it is you want
me to do.”

“A setback. How much time is required for
your kind to heal?”

“Three months,” I said without
hesitating.

“You.
Lie
!”

“Forty days. Standard postpartum is forty
days.”

“We don’t like lies!”

“It’s the truth. I swear,” I said urgently.
“You can ask anyone.”

There was a brief pause. “Your words are
verified. You should know we don’t like waiting,” the bugs hissed.
“However, our queen ant must be strong and healthy to reproduce.
There is no recovery time once you join us.”

From what I remembered, a queen ant was
responsible for laying hundreds of thousands of eggs. Once the eggs
hatched, the new ants became the populace of the colony—the worker
ants. It made me sick to my stomach to think they wanted to use me
to breed their demon offspring. Did that mean I would have to—to
mate a demon?
What did I just commit to?

“I may need more t-time,” I stuttered.
“First-time mothers are slow in heal—”

“Forty days is all you’ll get! Not because
we’re generous, but because we need time to break ties with those
we no longer wish to deal with, and to sacrifice an incompetent
queen. Be at the north edge of the forest after midnight of the
fortieth night. Cross us, and you already know the fate of the
child.” A pause. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing!” the insects shrieked. “We’ll
take the newborn as collateral to make ourselves clearer if we
must.”

“No! I do understand.” I glanced down at my
wailing daughter. “After midnight on the fortieth day. I’ll be
there.”

All at once, the curtain of vermin collapsed
into gray, dirt-like particles. Upon landing on the ground, the
dust took the shape of a demon’s torso, a whipping serpentine tail
in place of legs. David flung his dagger at the creature, but it
was a millisecond too late. Before the knife made contact with the
demonic figure, it slithered into the shadows. A trail of burned
earth and the stench of rotten eggs were all that was left in its
wake.