The Arcana Chronicles 5: The Dark Calling

And with wrath; I'd been imbued by the goddess Demeter as well. When she'd gotten enraged enough, she'd laid a curse on the entire earth.

I remembered the red witch saying, "Demeter withholds viciously--and gives lavishly. GIVE," right before I'd euthanized a colony of plague victims. Matthew had told me, "Power is your burden."

Not lately.

Aric continued, "When you wanted to use contraception, I agreed. But for whatever reason, this is our situation now. And I, for one, welcome it. After all the death I've caused--"

"I'm seventeen!"

"Your current incarnation has lived that long, but over your lifetimes, you're much older." Equal frustration showed in his expression, but he stifled it. "Can you not see why this could be a good thing, sieva? We will change history. Overturn the game. Perhaps even end it."

That prospect called to me. Before I'd lost Jack, I'd wanted to end the game more than anything. But the fact remained: I wasn't pregnant.

Aric cupped my cheek. "Talk to me. I need to know all the thoughts in your beautiful mind."

Jack's possible survival. Paul's lies. Aric's coming disappointment. Claws. Poison. Punishment. "I'm done." With my bath. With waiting to vent this rage.

I stood in the tub, glaring when Aric used his speed to lift me and wrap a robe around me. "I can walk."

"As you wish." He slowly set me on my feet. Back in our room, I passed the full-length mirror, pausing to take in my appearance. My eyes were glassy, my cheeks pale. I didn't look pregnant.

In the reflection, I spied the white bloom in a vase beside my bed, the rose plant Aric had grown from a seed after we'd had sex for the first time.

Over the millennia, he'd always carried a white rose on his standard. I'd painted one on the wall that overlooked our bed.

Was that budding rose one of those memory waypoints my grandmother had told me about? If so, what else did it signify?

Aric stood behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. For everyone else who'd ever lived, contact with his skin was lethal. For me, his touch was warm and pleasurable. Together we were different.

If Paul had given me a dummy shot, why wouldn't I have gotten pregnant? After all the times Aric and I had had sex?

Potentially unprotected sex.

I swallowed thickly, then closed my eyes to take a mental inventory of myself, using the same power I'd used to find seeds deep in the earth.

Sensing, sensing . . .

I opened my eyes, staring into my own hollow-eyed gaze. Oh, dear God. Something felt fundamentally off with me.

Another glance at the white bloom. Aric had planted more than a rose seed two months ago.

I was . . . pregnant.

"You perceive something, do you not?"

Life and Death had gotten together--how could I think there'd be no repercussions? Realization struck: I was always going to get pregnant by him. He was right; it did feel inevitable.

Didn't mean Paul would escape my wrath.

Over the last several months, we'd been puzzled why my powers had grown weaker. Aside from the global destruction of plants, I'd blamed the Bagman bites I'd sustained or the weather--cold and lack of sunlight in the endless night. Aric had blamed my bottled-up grief over Jack.

Whatever the cause, a pregnancy couldn't be helping things.

How would I contribute in the battle against Richter like this? I was now effectively benched--and would be for months to come.

Aric caught my gaze in the mirror. "Love, all will be well if you trust me."

Paul had garnered my trust. The doctors in the mental ward had wanted me to trust them. Gran had. Matthew had. The Hermit had. Just tell me your story.

I was tired of trusting, could barely bite back that acid rage. The Empress didn't get caged or contained.

Or compromised.

Aric had seen me as a bloodthirsty red witch in the past and must fear I'd return to form. He should.

If Paul had screwed with me, he'd die.

I told Aric, "I am pregnant."

His eyes glittered with emotion. "So you are, little wife."

I smiled into the mirror. "Which means I'm going to kill Paul."

2

"This can't be undone," Aric told me as I laced up my boots. "If you're wrong, you will have murdered an unarmed mortal who's been of great service to everyone here. Guilt for things in the past already eats at you."

"Paul gave me a shot and told me it was a contraceptive. This happened." Almost positive about that. I finished with my boots. "I believe it's a woman's choice when to start a family. Paul has robbed me of my choice. I'm going to punish him for it."

"Who will deliver our child? After working as an EMT, he attended two years of medical school. He's the only one with medical experience. When I prepared this castle for any foreseeable future, I never imagined that you and I would have a baby--I have no other doctor for you."

"That's a problem I shouldn't even have to consider." More blame going to Paul.

"If not for your sake, then think of the Magician." Finn had gotten his leg mangled in a cannibal's bear trap. Then he'd rebroken it fighting the Lovers. The bone had never healed properly. "Paul believes he can reset the boy's leg."

I tensed. "He won't touch Finn." My happy-go-lucky friend might be a trickster, but the Magician was no match for Paul's scheming.

Aric looked taken aback by my tone. Changing tack, he said, "For two thousand years, I've rewarded faithful service from the mortals I employ, providing protection and guidance. Do we not owe Paul some consideration after his care of your grandmother?"

I recalled the medic's gentle expression as he'd tugged up Gran's cover, and a nagging doubt surfaced. I quashed it.

"Paul saved your life," Aric pointed out. "He dug bullets out of your heart."

"I can regenerate."

"Not when you had a contagion in your veins. His quick work could have been the difference between your surviving or not. I owe him my eternal gratitude for that alone."

"You think that contagion ran its course?" I tapped my chin. "Or maybe this spawn of ours will be part Bagger." After all, it'd only been a few months since four Bagmen had bitten me, per Sol's orders. With friends like that . . .

"I'm confident it ran its course. Remember how hard you were able to push yourself dancing? You were blooming with health." Except for my powers. "But that brings to mind an important point: You somehow found a way to trust the Sun Card after his betrayal, and he redeemed himself. I fear that if you suspend your trust of Paul, you'll hate yourself. Especially if he's innocent of malice."

"He's not. For whatever reason, he's lied to you about me. You told me you don't let vipers slither around in your home. Either he goes, or I go." Go. Out into the wastelands. Was the game calling me forth?

At that moment, I yearned to leave. To find out if Jack lived. To forgive Matthew if he did.

Maybe I wasn't hearing anything more from them because I was too deep in this castle, too far behind Circe's watery boundary. Out in the Ash, I might have a better chance of getting to the bottom of Matthew's message.

But Aric would never let me go. Especially not now. Yet more blame to lay at Paul's feet.

"Don't be ridiculous," Aric said, right on cue. "You're not going anywhere."

He hadn't said that Paul would be leaving instead. With a roll of my eyes, I headed toward the door.

Aric followed. We started for the east wing, wending our way among the numerous animals tromping, waddling, and skittering through the castle hallways. He scowled when a family of porcupines simply gazed at us, refusing to budge.

As we edged around them, I said, "It's freezing in here." My breaths smoked. The vines and roses I'd grown along the ceilings were already withering.

"I've started conserving fuel. Only our wing and the occupied rooms will be heated from now on."

"You told Jack we had fifty years of fuel."

"That was before I knew we would have a child. Resources must be man

aged differently now."

"What else has changed?" I slowed to a stop. "Maybe our plan to go out in a blaze of glory together?" He and I had agreed on a one-way ticket to fight Richter and save mankind. "I know you, Aric. I know you've already been puzzling out these new moving pieces . . . ." Suddenly I couldn't get enough air. "One of us will have to live to raise a kid. You're going to make me win the game!"

I'd be forced to endure his demise, then later our child's. I'd have to endure life alone as an immortal for centuries.

In the meantime, I'd be separated from all the fighting, helpless to have a say.

"No," he said firmly. "Lark informed me she has no interest in immortality without the Magician, so I spoke to Circe." About being our Arcana patsy? "She has agreed to win the game, at a time in the far distant future. For now, we will defeat Richter and survive the battle. We will fight hard to live. Both of us."

"How? What's different?"