Midnight Soul (36 page)

And it was at that juncture I feared she was
tiring greatly for the midwife kept summoning her to push, her
entreaties seeming more and more urgent, and my sister-in-law was
drenched with sweat, her hair, her shift, the bedclothes, and her
face had gone from red and pained to drained of color and the pain
had drifted from her eyes, a vagueness setting in.

“She mustn’t lose consciousness,” Hilde,
Brikitta’s sister, who’d arrived two weeks ago to be present at
this very moment, hissed.

I looked across the bed to her, a woman
assuming the same position as I, on her feet, bent double, holding
her sister’s hand. Her expression had been joyful and encouraging
these last hours, now it appeared anxious and borderline
panicked.

I then looked to Brikitta and saw not only
her eyes had gone vague, her head was lolling on her shoulders.

“She must
push
,” the midwife pressed
and the urgency was gone.

Fear was threading her tone.

And that fear threaded through my veins.

“The baby’s just about to crown, I can feel
it,” the midwife went on. “She needs one, hearty push. If I can get
hold of him…”

“
Her
,” I snapped, not for myself
(solely).

My sister-in-law wanted a girl.

My brother didn’t care, but Brikitta had
confided in me she longed for a baby girl that she could dress and
Kristian could dote over and Timofei could love and protect.

I had no idea if the child was a girl. I was
not a seer (I’d tried, I’d failed), as Valentine was not.

But I had hope.

“Whatever it is,” the midwife snapped back,
“make her push. If we lose her now, we could lose them
both
now.”

“That is not happening,” I shared haughtily,
watched her open her mouth to speak but I turned my head from hers,
tightened my hand well beyond the strength Brikitta had been using,
feeling her bones and flesh crunch in my grip, and I bent over my
sister. “Awake!” I commanded.

Her eyes fluttered and her head again
drooped.

I yanked her hand hard so her back left the
bed, Hilde cried, “Franka!” but Brikitta focused on me.

“Look at me and push,” I ordered.

“I’m so tired, Franka,” she whispered.

“I’m quite certain you were tired of me being
an unceasing bitch for five years but you never let me beat you,” I
retorted.

She blinked at me.

“Push,” I charged.

“I don’t…have much…more…”

I yanked her again, heard Hilde’s surprised
cry, but my maneuver had the desired results. The fading Brikitta
focused again.

I put my face square in hers.

“Push, sister. I’ll not have you leaving us
now. Not now. Not ever. Today, you bring my brother more joy. You
bring it for yourself. And you bring it for
me
, and I get
what I bloody well want. So you’re giving me a bloody niece.
Now…
push
.”

“You…are very… mercenary,” Brikitta forced
out.

“I’m a Drakkar,” I retorted. “Now, I’d be
happy to have a conversation with you, sister. But before that, if
you’d be so kind—”

I didn’t finish as, before I could, her hand
crushed mine, she bared her teeth as she gritted them, the blood
rushed to her face and she bent forward, groaning.

“I see the head!” the midwife cried.

Thank the gods!

I looked that way and saw the same, covered
in Kristian’s dark hair.

I again turned to Brikitta. “She’s got
Kristian’s hair.” I watched her eyes flash. “Keep going, my
beautiful girl.”

She nodded and kept pushing.

Back and forth I looked as more of the baby
came through, Hilde’s encouragement mingled with my own, and
finally on a tortured cry that I was sure, if my brother heard it
(and the last time I checked, he was pacing the hall outside this
very bed chamber door so he would), would send him into a deathly
fright, the rest of the baby came out.

“It’s a boy!” the midwife whispered
excitedly.

Brikitta slumped against the pillows.

I drew in a long breath, let it out and sat
down on the bed, still holding her hand as Hilde let the other one
go to dash around with bathing cloths and blankets, clucking and
cooing, and murmuring, “How beautiful, so beautiful.”

Through this, Brikitta stared at what was
happening at the end of the bed, an exhausted smile shading her
lips, a look of deep contentment eclipsing the fatigue that
shadowed her eyes.

It took time, but eventually feeling my gaze,
she gave me hers.

When she did, I felt my eyes get moist.

I sniffed and decreed, “A boy. It seems
you’ll have to do this again.”

Her eyes grew wide then her exhausted
laughter filled the room.

I smiled before I leaned forward, kissed her
forehead, let her go, got up and walked out of the room in order to
tell my brother he had a new son.

* * * * *

Noc

Darling.

Noc turned in bed.

Noc, are you there?

His eyes shot open and he sat straight up. He
looked around the room that had no furniture (except that bed) but
still, with the patterned metal mirrors and weave work adorning the
walls and other shit like that, it kicked ass.

The moonlight shone through the opened
windows and he saw nothing.

Noc?

Fuck, that was Franka’s voice.

“Frannie?” he called into the empty room.

You’re there
.

He didn’t know where her voice was coming
from, his head or disembodied in the room.

He also didn’t give a shit.

It was just fucking great to hear her
voice.

“I see you’ve learned some wielding,” he
remarked.

Her voice held humor when she replied,
If
it would not take great magic, I’d be standing by your bed.

He would not mind that at all.

Months had passed. Her lover was not freshly
dead. She was no longer in the throes of grief. Her parents had not
just been discovered to be the fuckwads they were and Franka was
not trying to find ways to cope with the massive changes that
meant, healing from mental wounds as well as the physical ones her
father had unleashed.

It was time they had a conversation.

Though, he’d wait until he had her on his
turf and not do it when she was somewhere else and just coming to
him in his head (or whatever).

I have a new nephew
, she shared.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, that’s awesome,” he said
as he laid back in bed and crossed his hands behind his head.

It is
, she agreed.

“Everyone good?” he asked.

Yes. The baby is healthy, loud and robust.
Quite heavy, he gave Brikitta a tough time, but she persevered.
He’s also quite long, so he, too, will be tall like his father. A
full head of hair. All his fingers. All his toes. Brikitta is tired
but she’s got plenty of people around to look after the child so
she can get some rest. I nearly had to cast a spell on Josette to
make her forget for a time we had a newborn in our midst. She quite
fell in love.

He thought of her and the frequent time she
spent with Tim.

“And I’m sure you’re not interested at all,”
he teased.

They’ve named him Frantz.

Even, however she was coming to him, he could
hear the emotion thickening her voice.

“Baby,” he whispered.

He said no more, giving her a minute to pull
her shit together because that was Franka. She wasn’t about falling
apart.

She took that minute and said in a crisp
voice (total Franka, bullshitting to cover),
He’s quite
handsome.

“Babies aren’t handsome, sugarlips, they’re
cute.”

I thought you said I was cute.

“You are. Babies are a different kind of
cute.”

And baby is what you often call me.

He chuckled.

There are parts of your patois that are
very clever. There are parts that make no sense.
She paused
before she finished,
And now, after I take a week or so to get
to know my new nephew, be certain Brikitta is well and recovering,
and sort out Josette and I, I’ll learn much more.

“Yeah, you will,” he agreed.

Are you…?

He waited for her to finish but she
didn’t.

He turned to his side, wrapping a hand around
his pillow and using both arms to curl it closer.

Like it was a woman.

Like Franka was there.

Fuck he hoped the saying was right that time
healed all wounds.

If it didn’t, he’d wait for her to heal. He’d
help her do it.

But he’d also be right fucking there if she
was.

“I’m ready when you are, babe. Korwahk is
fuckin’ nutty. I dig it to visit and explore, but I’m not sure how
Circe made the decision to live here forever. Interesting. But
still fucked up. Knew she loved Lahn in a big way. Now I know the
woman
loves
her husband seriously ’cause she’s not only cool
livin’ here, she’s totally in her element. It’s like she’s lived
here all her life.”

I would like the opportunity one day to
witness her in her element.

“We’ll figure that out. First, next time you
see Valentine, let her know we’re good to go and have her get in
touch with me so I know when that’s gonna happen. I’m good to go
too but that doesn’t mean I want green smoke to surround me and
suddenly be gone before I say goodbye.”

I’ll be certain she forewarns you
.

“Thanks, Frannie.”

And I must go. It’s late here and I wish to
check in once more with Kristian and Brikitta before I’m abed.

“Right, sweetheart. Glad you floated into my
consciousness and gave me the good news.”

I’m not in your consciousness, Noc
,
she informed him snootily,
I’m gliding on an astral plane,
though without my body. I’ve simply tuned in to your plane. You
have my conscious as I’m in a trance. But I don’t have
yours.

“You do know that makes no fuckin’ sense
whatsoever,” he stated.

I’ll explain it more thoroughly over
pizza
.

Fuck yeah, she would.

“Right, go to bed, baby. And see you
soon.”

Yes, Noc. Soon. Sleep well.

“You too, Frannie. Later.”

Uh…well, um…later.

He grinned and could actually feel it when he
lost her.

Kristian had named his kid Frantz.

Noc liked the guy. Now he liked him more.

He drew the pillow closer and closed his
eyes.

A week or so.

Then he’d finally be home.

And so would Frannie.

Welcome Home

Franka

“By the gods! Look at your garments!”

I whirled from the window, twisting my ankle
as I did so and nearly crashing to the floor.

Just managing to prevent myself from doing
something that incredibly mortifying, I stood blinking rapidly as I
stared at Josette who was rushing through the door.

She was not dressed as me in preparation to
be transported to our new world.

No, Valentine had brought her something very
much different.

She was wearing trousers like Noc’s (he’d
told me they were referred to as “jeans”). Up top she had on
something that was frilly but skimpy. On her feet she had…

I shook my head as I took them in.

They were indescribable. I didn’t even know
what they were made of. There was a sole that looked squishy and
two straps that led from the juncture of her first and second toe
along her foot, exposing the rest of it.

And that was all.

“They’re called
flip-flops
,” Valentine
drawled, strolling in after Josette. “They seemed
very…
her
.”

Josette stopped a foot away and sprung up and
down on them, saying, “They’re very comfortable. But odd. I was
walking and one came right off, flying halfway down the corridor. I
have to scrunch my toes to keep them on.”

I could see this.

However, as strange as her shoes were, in
fact her whole outfit (for a woman), she had it much better than
I.

Before leaving to see to Josette, Valentine
had painstakingly instructed me as I painted my face with a variety
of brushes and wands, decreeing through it, “You’ll need to
experiment in future, and when we’re in my world I’ll take you to
an artist to share further techniques.”

I did this utilizing what Valentine said was
“makeup or cosmetics,
chérie
.”

Although this took some time, and I wasn’t a
complete novice (many in my world painted their faces with rouge or
lip tint, powder on their eyes, kohl to line their lids, pencils to
fill in brows—this happening everywhere, though it was worn
especially heavy in Fleuridia), I was enchanted not only by the
results but by the quality of the elements Valentine had provided.
In my world, they were far more rudimentary.

But after that, Valentine had given me some
other-world undergarments (which I liked very much), as well as a
swatch of material and a curious metal band. She’d then glided out
of the room to see to Josette and give me time to change, stating
with a wave of her hand toward a box on a chair, “Those are your
shoes,
ma petite sorcière
.”

Examining the garment she’d given me, I
realized I simply had to shrug it on like a coat. It wrapped around
the front and closed not with frogs or buttons, but with a belt,
the belt being the metal band.

The material was quite soft and I could tell
it was excellent quality. It was also a sumptuous cream, a color
I’d never worn, but it seemed to highlight the natural olive tone
of my skin, not to mention deepen the color of my hair and bring
out the same in my eyes.

All this was fine.

What was slightly concerning was the fact
that the hem was uneven. One edge of the coat-like dress hung
longer than the other, which aesthetically was quite pleasing, but
it still seemed to be a mistake in construction.