Im going to leave you with Nurse Riggins here, Dr. Blumlein announced as he shed his gloves. Shell conduct the ultrasound, so we can check on the development of your baby and triangulate your due date. Once thats finished, Ill be conferring with you in my office.
Just stay on your back and uncover your tummy, Ms. Eresby, Nurse Riggins said as she rolled over the portable ultrasound machine. Once my abdomen was exposed, she slathered it with a clear gel and then turned on the machine.
What, exactly, are you looking for when you do this? I asked as she placed the transducer against my swollen belly.
Right now Im monitoring the babys heartbeat and seeing if your placenta is in the right place, the nurse replied, keeping one eye on the monitor as she slowly moved the transducer across the expanse of my bared belly. Im also looking for fetal abnormalities. So far everything is checking out just fine. She turned the computer screen about so that it was facing me. Do you want to say hello?
I stared at the black-and-white image on the screenalthough it looked like a cross between a smudged Xerox and an X-ray, there was no mistaking what I held within me was a very well-developed fetus, with its legs folded up like landing gear and its tiny hands held before its face like a boxer. The first thing I did was laugh in delight at the sight of my childso close, and yet so far from me. And then I began to cry.
Im sorry, I said as the nurse paused in her duties long enough to hand me a tissue. I didnt mean to lose control like that.
It happens all the time. She smiled. Im used to it.
I just wish my boyfriend was here to see it, I said as I blew my nose. Can you tell if its a boy or a girl?
Oh, yes, Nurse Riggins replied, nodding her head. Hes definitely a boy.
I nodded my head. So Lafos dessert was right, after all.
And is heis he? I couldnt bring myself to finish the sentence for fear of saying what I dreaded would somehow make it so.
Theres nothing to worry about, Ms. Eresby, the nurse said reassuringly. Your little boy is perfectly normal. . . .
A big, stupid smile split my face as I heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing the news.
Hes got all ten fingers and toes.
* * *
Dr. Blumleins private office was every bit as tastefully appointed as his waiting room, with diplomas from a prestigious university and medical school hanging on the walls, alongside framed photographs of famous women whose vaginas he had looked at over the yearsincluding my own mother.
Nice to see you, again, Millicent, the doctor said, motioning for my mother and me to take a seat. I must say its a good thing you brought your daughter in when you did.
Is there a problem? I frowned, protectively crossing my arms over my stomach.
Although your general health is excellent, Ms. Eresby, and the babys fetal heartbeat is very strong, it appears there has been a gross miscalculation somewhere along the line. According to the ultrasound and my own physical examination, Id say you are closer to thirty weeks.
Thats impossible! I exclaimed in disbelief. There is no way Im almost eight months pregnant!
I dont know how else to explain it, Ms. Eresby, save that it might have something to do with the babys mixed parentage. I admit I know practically nothing about Kymeran biology, save that their gestation period is far shorter than ours. To be frank, I dont feel comfortable taking you on as a patient, as this falls way outside my area of expertise. However, I can give you a referral to a colleague who specializes in high-risk pregnancies. . . . He scribbled down a name and address on a piece of notepaper and handed it to me. Hes in a much better position to handle a case as . . . unique as yours.
I see, my mother said stiffly, gathering up her purse. Why dont you just come out and say that your malpractice insurance doesnt cover hybrid pregnancies, Daniel?
Now, Millicent, youre not being fair! he objected.
Perhaps Im not, she conceded. But that can be said for a lot of things in life. Come along, dear. As we left the doctors office, she paused to give him a final, withering look. Oh, and by the way, Ill be stopping by your receptionist on the way out in order to cancel my next appointment.
* * *
I cant believe he would try to fob you off on another doctor like that! my mother fumed as we exited the penthouse elevator.
He did have a point, Mom.
So does a pencil, she sniffed. That doesnt mean I should sit there and let someone jab it in my eye.
Clarence opened the door before my mother had a chance to retrieve her keys from her purse. Welcome back, Madam, he said, then turned to address me. Miss Timmyyou have a lady caller in the Grand Salon.
My mother frowned and glanced at me. Who could that possibly be?
Perhaps its Nessie, I suggested.
Upon entering the Grand Salon, I instantly recognized the regal figure with the peacock blue hair standing before the fireplace, staring at the museum-quality Dürer hung over the mantel.
Lady Syra! I exclaimed, unable to refrain from smiling in welcome.
What are you doing here? My mother asked frostily. She was standing on the staircase behind me, glaring down at the Witch Queen with unconcealed hostility.
Hello to you, too, Millicent, Syra replied graciously.
Why on Earth did you allow this woman into my house? my mother snapped, turning her withering glare on Clarence.
The lady said she wished to speak to Miss Timmy, and refused to leave until she did so, the butler explained apologetically. I deemed it best not to aggravate the situation, given her . . . abilities.
My mother snorted in disgust and returned her attention to Lady Syra. What do you want with my daughter, sorceress?
That is between Tate and me, the Witch Queen replied politely but firmly.
Her name is Timothea! My mothers shout was loud enough to make the pendants on the crystal chandelier jingle.
Mom, please! Let me handle this, I said, doing my best to try to soothe her. Do you trust me to do that? For a moment it looked like she was going to fight me on it, but then she grudgingly sighed and nodded her head. So, I said, turning to face Lady Syra, why are you here?
Its about Hexe. Is there someplace where we can speak in private? she asked, glancing about the ballroom-sized salon.
We can talk in the library, I said, motioning for her to follow me. My mother glared at Lady Syra as she passed her on the stairs, but remained silent.
Compared to the Grand Salon, the library seemed relatively cozy. Once I closed the door behind us, Lady Syra heaved a sigh of relief and allowed her shoulders to drop.
If Hexe sent you here to try to talk me into coming back, I warned her, Im going to tell you the same thing I told Scratch: Im not setting foot in that house until he agrees to give up the gauntlet.
While I am here on Hexes behalf, she admitted, he didnt send me. Something is horribly wrong with my son, and I need your help. I stopped by the house last night for a visit, but no one answered the door. I was about to leave when Scratch called out to me from the rooftop and said Hexe had locked himself inside his office and was refusing to come out. So I used my passkey to let myself in. It took some cajoling, but I finally got Hexe to open the door to his office. I dont know what he was doing in there, but he positively reeked of Dragon Balm. I asked him what was going on, but all he would say was that youd left him because you were tired of being poor, and then slammed the door in my face. She shook her head as she spoke, as if she could not believe her own words. This has something to do with the Gauntlet of Nydd, doesnt it?
Im convinced thats whats wrong, I replied grimly. Theres a curse on the gauntlet thats keeping Hexe from using his Right Hand magic.
I should have known that thing was trouble the moment Trinket hissed at it! Lady Syra said ruefully, reaching up to pet the familiar looped about her neck. Is it true Dr. Moot was the one who bonded that thing to Hexes hand?
Im afraid so.
She frowned in consternation. But why would he go to that old tosser? Was it just a question of money? I would have paid to have it done properly, you know. Curse that foolish pride of his. Hes just like his father!
He had his reasons. They seemed to make sense, at the time, I replied, leery of going into detail for fear of saying too much. Things were bad enough already without dragging the Maladanti into it. Ive tried to talk him into getting the thing removed, but hes convinced that if he can find Madam Erys, he can get the curse lifted without having to remove the gauntlet itself. He wont listen to reason.
Its the damned Dragon Balm, Lady Syra said with a grimace. Esau used to smoke that crap to try to forget the man he used to be. There was always a touch of darkness to my brotherthe same that exists in all Kymeransbut once Nina was no longer in his life, it spread like a cancer throughout his soul, until it drew him down the spiral of the Left Hand path.
Is that what you think Hexe is trying to doforget?
If my son has indeed lost his Right Hand magic to a curse, he is suffering a fate most Kymerans would rather die than endure. No wonder he seemed a shadow of himself. TateI dont know what happened between you and Hexe, but if you truly love my son, you will come back with me to Golgotham.
Please dont ask me to do that, Syra.
Im not asking, Tate; Im begging, she said, taking my hand and clasping it tightly. I could have cast a Come Hither and dragged you back downtown against your will, but I didnt, because I know thats not what Hexe would have wanted. You wear the Crown of Adon, which marks you as his true love, just as it marked his father as my true love. When my father forced me to send Horn away, I became bitter and angry, and I could feel the darkness rise in me, whispering in my ear in a shadows voice. The only thing that kept me centered, that drew me back to the light was my child. When I looked into Hexes eyes for the first time, I was filled with hope and strength. If not for my son, I would have joined my brother on his downward spiral. Of that I have no doubt.
That is why you must go back to GolgothamHexe needs you and his child to fight the darkness gathering within him. I have already lost my brother to the Left Hand pathI will not stand by and allow it to claim my son as well. If you can get Hexe to agree to it, I will pay to have the Gauntlet of Nydd removed. Once its off, Ill have it destroyed. I dont care if its a historical artifactit has meant nothing but sorrow to the Royal Family.
I fully intended to tell her no. The word was resting on my tongue, waiting to be spoken. Going back to Golgotham was risky for me, not to mention the baby. But when I looked into Syras eyes, I saw a mother terrified for the sake of her sona son who had the same golden eyes.
* * *
When I told my mother I would be returning to Golgotham with Lady Syra, she was so taken aback she actually set aside her bourbon. What do you mean youre going back? I could almost see the steam shooting out her ears.
Hexe needs my help, I explained. We might be having problems right now, but I still love him.
This did not mollify my mother in the least. I know what youre up to, witch! she snapped, pointing at Lady Syra. Youre trying to steal my daughter away from me! Youve cast some kind of spell over her so you can drag her back to your good-for-nothing son!
Mother, please! You make it sound like Ive pricked my finger on a spinning wheel!
She turned to glare at me in disapproval. This was all an elaborate trick, wasnt it? she fumed. You just wanted to get back into my good graces long enough for your father and me to unfreeze your trust fund. Is that why you got pregnant in the first placeto get Grandma and Grandpa on the hook?
I dont want your money if it means turning back into a kid you can push around and tell what to do! I replied. Ive been there and done that, Mom. I didnt like it the first time, so why should I sign up for it again, and bring my kid along for the ride? And speaking of which, as far as Im concerned, my baby only has one grandmother . . . and its not you. I knew I drew blood with that last remark because I saw her flinch, and I realized that I would regret saying it later on, but at that moment I couldnt have cared less that I said something so cruel to someone I loved. I was my mothers child, after all. I turned to Lady Syra and motioned for her to follow me. Come onI need to pack.
No need, Miss Timmy, Clarence announced. He was standing at the head of the stairs that led to the Grand Salon, holding my suitcase in one hand and Beanies leash in the other. I trust I wasnt being too presumptuous?
Honestly, Clarence! my mother spat. First you let that witch in the door; now youre helping Timmy pack her bags! Have you no sense of loyalty?
Ah! That reminds me, the butler said, taking an envelope from his breast pocket as he stepped forward. Here is my letter of resignation, effective immediately. Normally, I would have given substantially more notice than this, but the circumstances are unique. I will be accompanying Miss Timmy, as she is in greater need of my services than either yourself or the master.
She opened the envelope, scowling at the contents. This letter isnt dated.
I wrote it some time ago, Clarence replied. Ive just been waiting for the right opportunity to deliver it.
Youre leaving us to go work for her? she scoffed. How do you expect to get paid? In magic beans?
While I may have served the Eresbies, from boy to man, with my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself, I have also kept my eyes and ears open and have used information I have overheard at table to make certain investments in the stock market, Clarence replied. I have managed to accumulate something of a nest egg. Granted, its nothing compared to the Eresby fortune, but, to be blunt, I dont need your stinking money, maam. Ive got plenty of my own; more than enough to retire anywhere in the world. And as it so happens, Ive chosen to retire in Golgothamat least until the baby comes.
Youre behind this as well, arent you? my mother snarled at Lady Syra, her eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. You werent happy with taking away my daughter, so now youve cast a spell over Clarence and turned him against me as well!
You still dont get it, even after all this time, do you, Millicent? Lady Syra said sadly. A true heart is stronger than any magic I can cast.
And with that, I walked back out of my parents penthouse, leaving my mother sputtering to herself, alone and untended, in the echoing expanse of the Grand Salon.
Chapter 24
This is most certainly a . . . change from the Upper East Side, Clarence said as he looked up at the looming boardinghouse. He was trying to remain positive, although I could tell he was somewhat intimidated by his surroundings. Most . . . quaint. In a peculiar way.
Dont worry, Clarence, I smiled reassuringly. Itll grow on you. I promise.
As I unlocked the front door, Beanie was so excited he slipped his leash and dashed headlong into the house. He was greeted by Scratch, who rubbed himself along the length of the Boston terrier, a look of feline delight on his hairless, wrinkled face.
Youve come back! Scratch exclaimed, his voice barely audible above his purrs. I was afraid you were gone for good! Thank you-thank you-thank you for bringing back my dog!
Oh. My. Clarence gasped, staring in astonishment at the hairless winged cat rubbing itself against my shins.
Scratch froze in midpurr. Whos the nump in the suit? he growled.
Clarence is an old friend of mine. Please dont call him a nump. Hes going to be living here now. Clarence, this is Scratch.
Pleased to make your acquaintance . . . sir? Clarence said, with his usual aplomb.
Great, another numI mean, human underfoot, the familiar sniffed, fixing the butler with a bloodred glare. But if Tate and Beanie say youre cool, then I guess Im okay with it.
Wheres Hexe? I asked.
Hes still locked in his office, the familiar replied in a worried voice. He wont talk to me anymore. Ive never seen him like thisit scares me.
* * *
Hexeits me, Tate, I called out, tapping on the closed door. Can you hear me? The dead bolt abruptly unlocked itself, although I had not heard any movement inside the room. I glanced down at Scratch, who nodded his head, before pushing open the door.
The office looked like it had been ransacked. The floor was covered with books and scattered papers pulled from Hexes sizable collection of grimoires, as if someone had been frantically searching for something. The shadows thrown by the Tiffany lamp with the armadillo-shell shade made the taxidermied crocodile hanging from the ceiling seem far less dead than usual. Hexe was slumped across his desk, surrounded by empty bottles of absinthe, Cynar, and barley wine, with a hookah sitting by his silver-clad right hand.
As I stepped into the office, I was struck by the peculiar odor that permeated the room. At first I was at a loss to identify it; then, with a start, I realized it was Hexe. He normally had a warm, pleasantly chypre-like smell that reminded me of citrus and oakmoss with just a hint of leather, but now he seemed to be exuding something closer to bitter lime with a touch of mildew. I knew then I had made the right decision coming back.
He stirred as I drew closer, raising his head to squint at me. Tate? Is that really you? he asked in a ragged voice. Although his hair was uncombed and he was wearing a couple of days worth of beard, there was no sign of the sneering, cold-eyed stranger in his weary face.
Yes, its really me. I smiled gently as I knelt beside him. Ive come back to help you, baby.
I never meant to say and do those things to you, he said in an earnest whisper. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about it. I never wanted to harm you, Tateyouve got to believe me.
I know, I said as I caressed his stubbled chin. The gauntlet is doing something to you, poisoning you, somehow. Your mother says she knows a psychic surgeon who can help you.
Hexe drew back and a flicker of fear crossed his face. ButbutI need the gauntlet.
Do you need it more than you need me? More than you need our baby?
But that means Ill no longer be able to work Right Hand magic.
You cant work Right Hand magic now, anyway. So why fight getting rid of the damned thing?
Hexe dropped his gaze to his gauntleted hand, which he had yet to move or try to touch me with. I was going to cast a Come Hither to summon you back and hold you to me. I even looked up the spell. But I couldnt bring myself to do it. Does that make me weak?
No, I said as I put my arms around him. Youre the strongest man I know.
* * *
It took a pot of coffee and a couple of Vegemite sandwiches, but I eventually coaxed Hexe out of his office and into the kitchen. As he sobered up he became more and more like his old self, even though he still smelled a bit off. Throughout it all, Scratch sat on his favorite perch atop the refrigerator and watched his master intently, as if afraid Hexe might disappear if he looked away.
What did you say to my mother about the gauntlet?
Just that its cursed and turning your Right Hand magic widdershins. I didnt tell her about Boss Marz smashing your hand with a witch-hammer. Shes scheduled a meeting with the psychic surgeon for tomorrow.
Hexe froze in midchew. That soon?
The quicker we can get that thing off you, the better, I replied.
I suppose youre right. He set down his half-eaten sandwich and stood up from the table. Im going to go take a shower. Care to join me?
Ill be there shortly, I said. I just want to check in on Clarence and see how hes settling in. This has been a big day for all of us.
After tidying up the kitchen, I headed upstairs and stopped by what, until recently, had been Octavias room and knocked on the door.
Its unlocked, Miss Timmy.
I opened the door to find Beanie sitting on the bed, patiently watching Clarence as he unpacked a collection of loud Hawaiian shirts from his luggage and placed them in the wardrobe.
I see youve got a fan. I laughed.
He seems to find everything I do fascinating and of the utmost importance, Clarence replied. Its certainly a boost to my self-confidence.
Whats with all the Hawaiian shirts?
All my adult life, I have dressed like a butler. Years ago, I promised myself, once I retired, I would never wear a suit and tie again. I have been collecting Hawaiian shirts for exactly this occasion. I cant wait to start trying them out.
I tried to picture Clarence in something besides the tidy three-piece suits he had worn for as long as I could remember, but my mind just wouldnt go there. It was like trying to imagine my grandparents naked.
I trust your young man is feeling better? he asked solicitously.
Hes not out of the woods yet, but hes doing a lot better, I replied. Hes more like his old self than hes been in a while.
Im glad to hear it. I know you love him very much. I can see it in your eyes whenever you talk about him.
I was never able to sneak much past you when I was a kid.
No, you couldnt, he agreed as he unpacked the clay ashtray I made for him at summer camp twenty years ago, and carefully placed it on the bed stand. But, then, you were always a very loving child.
Clarenceare you sure about all this? I asked gently. I appreciate you wanting to help me, but if this places any hardship on you at all . . .
Ever since I was a boy Ive wanted to see exotic places and unusual people, he smiled wryly. However, I am not much for travelling. I have a deathly fear of flying, I turn green the moment I set foot on a boat, and I have an unfortunate tendency to become carsick after a couple of hours. For someone like me, Golgotham is the answer to my prayers . . . provided the cat doesnt eat me.
And as for hardships . . . what I said to your mother wasnt hot air, Miss Timmy. You dont have to worry about money for the time being. I would be honored to handle the household finances until you and your young gentleman get back on your feet.
I jumped off the bed and threw my arms around the old butleror at least tried to, since my belly was now in the way. Clarence, youre my very own fairy godfather! I exclaimed. And youve really got to stop calling me Miss Timmy.
Whatever you say, Miss Timmy.
* * *
As I entered the bedroom, Hexe strolled out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower. As he toweled his hair dry I realized it was the first time in weeks Id seen him naked, and was startled to see how thin he had become.
I went to see an obstetrician today, I said.
Hexe lowered the towel to stare at me apprehensively. Is the baby?
Hes perfectly healthy, I replied. But were going to be parents a little sooner than we thought.
He laughed joyously as he grabbed me up in his arms, twirling about as if we were on a dance floor. For a few glorious moments everything wed gone through seemed to disappear, and we were happy again, just like we used to be. We were still laughing as he pulled me down onto the bed.
When you went away, I was afraid Id never get the chance to be a father to my child, he said, placing his hand over my gravid belly. I know what its like, growing up without a father. I dont want to perpetuate that kind of a family tradition.
Youre not being fair to your dad, Hexe. Your mother sent Horn away to keep your grandfather from banishing him.
I realize its stupid and childish, he sighed, but part of me is still mad at him for not being around when I was a kid. Theres so much I needed to learn that only he could teach melike how to be a father and a husband. This is all new territory for me, and Im afraid Im going to fail at it.
The fact that youre worried about being a good dad is a good sign, I reassured him. I attended some of the most exclusive private schools in the city and, believe me, truly bad fathers fuck up their kids without giving what theyre doing a single thought.
Hexe held up his right hand, turning it from side to side as he studied the Gauntlet of Nydd. The funny thing is, I just wanted to be able to support you and the baby. You would think I, of all people, would know that magic has its price. The gauntlet may have given me back the use of my right hand, but its come at the cost of nearly driving away those I care most for in life.
Well, itll be gone for good in a couple of days, I said firmly.
Still, even though it perverts my magic, at least it allows me to use my hand for more wholesome purposes, such as brushing my hair . . . and other things, he said as he slipped his hands underneath my blouse. The gauntlets finely crafted chain mail felt as smooth and organic as snakeskin sliding against my flesh. Its been a long time . . . he whispered.
Too long, I agreed, as I pulled his hungry mouth toward mine. We made love for the first time in weeks, fumbling and giggling until we found the best position to accommodate the changes to my anatomy. And once it was done, we drifted off to sleep, with Hexe cradling me in his arms as if I might disappear. The bitter lime smell that clung to him was almost entirely gone, save for a faint, lingering trace.
* * *
I am walking up a long, winding staircase of living glass, its colors forever shifting and pulsing. The staircase twines about a towering pillar, and as I climb I look out across a vast cityscape made of living glass, its spires shining and strobing in the sunlight. I raise my eyes to the skies and see massive dragons wheeling far above my head, their long, narrow tails fluttering in the wind like the tails of a kite.
At the top of the staircase is a temple. Although it, too, is made of living glass, its doorway is fashioned from the skull of a massive dragon, its fleshless maw yawning wide to accept the faithful. I enter the temple, the interior of which is one vast room, in the center of which is a huge cauldron filled with multicolored flames. Kneeling before the holy fire is a figure dressed in a hooded robe, its head lowered in prayer. Although I have never seen this place or this person before, I know that I stand in the Temple of Adon and that this is the Dragon Oracle.
The robed figure rises and turns to face me. In one hand he holds a tall staff made from the shin of a battle-dragon. I start with surprise, for the face of the Dragon Oracle is that of Mr. Manto. The only difference is the white sash that binds the blind prophets eyes. The Dragon Oracle points to the multicolored fire dancing in the cauldron, causing it to flare and jump even higher. When he speaks, his voice echoes like a struck gong.
The hand is in the heart.
As the Dragon Oracle intones the words, I recognize them as the final portion of the prophecy pieced together by Mr. Manto, a world and countless millennia away. But before I can unravel the meaning of his words, I am overwhelmed by the smell of rotting limes. Suddenly a disembodied six-fingered right hand emerges from the sacred fire and strikes with the speed of a cobra, grabbing me by the neck. I try to pry the phantom hand from about my throat, only to have it tighten its grip. I struggle to free myself as the life is throttled from my body. . . .