As he plopped the stack of books down onto his desk, he accidentally knocked a thick manila envelope onto the floor, spilling forth a number of full-color eight by ten photographs.
This must be the package Bartho dropped off earlier, I said as I bent to retrieve the pictures. What at first looked like nothing but photos of people going about their daily business on the streets of Manhattan, on closer inspection revealed semitransparent, phantomlike figures, sometimes in the background, or occasionally in the foreground. Some of the wraiths were little more than blurs, but others were easily identifiable. There were Lenape Indians walking unseen among the stockbrokers of Wall Street; Colonial-era knickerbockers in tricorn hats and square-buckled shoes smoking long-stemmed clay pipes in the shadow of City Hall; women in hoopskirts, men in Victorian top hats and muttonchops, and flappers in cloche hats rubbing intangible elbows with the oblivious bike messengers, aspiring rap stars, and harried office workers thronging West Broadway. However, of all the ghostly images, there was only one that made my blood run cold.
Look at this! I said, holding out the picture to Hexe with a trembling hand. Do you see anyone you know?
He scowled at the photograph of Perdition Street, with its usual hectic mix of looky-loos and native Golgothamites going about their day-to-day business. His eyes widened as he spotted the image of Erys threading her way through the crowds. But, more important, was the spectral passenger she carried piggyback, his arms and legs wrapped tightly about her torso. Even when as substantial as morning fog, there was no mistaking the identity of Erys phantom rider.
Esau, Hexe whispered.
Chapter 28
After finding the snapshot among Barthos prints, Hexe and I lost no time returning to his mothers apartment. Amos ushered us into the sunken living room, where we found Lady Syra sipping a demitasse of civet coffee and listening to Aladdin Sane on the stereo.
There can be no doubting itthat is my brother, Lady Syra said grimly as she studied the photograph. And that is, most definitely, his wife, Nina.
But isnt he trapped in the Infernal Region? I asked.
Physically, yes, she replied. But his spirit is another matter entirely. It appears he has regained access to this world by taking possession of the perfect empty vessel.
I always thought Erys mannerisms were a bit stiff, but I just thought that was because she had a stick up her ass, I said with a humorless laugh. Now I realize shes another one of Esaus mindless meat puppets, like the Sons of Adam. It also explains why she kept giving me the stink eye. But why did he come back? It cant be easy for him to cross dimensions, even in spirit form.
Tates got a point, Hexe agreed. I know Uncle Esau despises me, but expending that kind of energy just to try to drive me to the Left Hand path seems kind of crazy, even for him. Theres got to be something else hes trying to accomplish. But what?
If I know my brother, whatever it is will be operatic and apocalyptic. Lady Syra scowled. Not to mention extremely inconvenient.
* * *
Upon leaving Lady Syras apartment, Hexe and I hailed a hansom. Normally, we would have walked home, but my back and feet were killing me and the idea of waddling six city blocks, the last two uphill, did not tantalize me in the least. However, as we reached Perdition, we were forced to come to a halt as the broad street was jammed with people waving picket signs.
Whats the holdup? Hexe asked the cabbie.
Theres some kind of protest going on outside the bank, the centaur replied. It looks like Seamus OFae is involved.
Well get out here, Hexe said, handing our driver a ten-dollar bill.
As I climbed down from the hansom, I could see Seamus, dressed in an impeccable emerald-green Armani suit, standing on the marble steps that led to the doors of First Midas, Golgothams only bank. The leprechaun chieftain was carrying a bullhorn, which he used to address the throng of angry protestors that now spilled out onto the street. One of the faces I recognized among the picketers belonged to Octavia.
Good people of Golgotham! Seamus shouted, his amplified voice ringing out over the noise of the crowd. Are ye goin to stand by and let Mayor Lash sell ye out? Golden Egg Realtya shell corporation owned by Hizzoneris the company that sold Machen Arms to Ronald Chess, for over three million dollars! Chess then turned around and raised rent a thousand percent and threw hardworkin Golgothamites out of their homes and into the streets! I ask ye, my friends, does it sound like Mayor Lash has Golgothams best interests at heartor his own?
As the crowd waved their signs and shouted in angry agreement, the leprechaun strutted back and forth, nodding his coppery head in approval, like a banty rooster on patrol. He might come up only to my knee, but Seamus OFae radiated the kind of charisma youd expect from a born politician and lived up to the nickname Little Big Man.
Just then the door to the bank opened and its president, Mayor Lash, stormed out onto the front steps, his face livid. Damn you, OFae! he shouted. Take your rabble to Blarneys!
Whats the matter, Mr. Mayor? Seamus replied in a taunting voice. Yer not afraid of answerin to yer constituents, are ye?
Before Lash could respond, the crowd suddenly parted itself to allow Beadle Elok to approach. Here now! Whats going on here? he growled, calling for order by holding his staff of office aloft.
Its about time you got here! Mayor Lash snapped disdainfully. I demand that you arrest Seamus OFae for disturbing the peace and unlawful assembly!
Its only unlawful if theres no permit, Your Honor, Elok reminded the mayor. The beadle then turned to address Seamus. Do you have an assembly permit, Councilman?
As a matter of fact, I do, OFae replied as he handed the beadle a folded piece of parchment.
Elok unfolded the document and stared at it for a long moment while nodding his head.
Well? Dont just stand therearrest him! Mayor Lash demanded petulantly.
Im afraid I cant do that, Your Honor, Elok replied. The GoBOO has granted Councilman OFae the right to assemble in protest against you.
Thats impossible! Lash sputtered. I never signed off on such a thing!
It didnt require your signature to make it official, Your Honor, only the acting justicarsand theres Lady Syras signature and seal on the bottom, Elok explained, handing the parchment over to Lash for inspection.
This is an outrage! The mayor was by this point trembling like a furious tuning fork. If you wont clear this mob from my place of business, Ill call in the PTU and have them handle the situation!
I wouldnt do that if I were you, Mayor, said an all-too-familiar voice from the crowd.
The picketers began to murmur among themselves as Boss Marz stepped forward, flanked by his lieutenant, Gaza. His familiar, riding astride his shoulder, turned and flashed its fangs at the assembled protestors in an angry grin.
What are you doing here, Marz? Mayor Lash asked stonily.
I merely wish to add my voice to those asking why you would betray your own kind to the numpsand in an election year, no less, the crime lord replied with an unpleasant smile.
Lashs face went from bright red to white as paper as he turned on his heel and hurried back up the stairs into the bank, his braided ponytail flapping along behind him like the tail on a kite.
I commend your stance on gentrification, Councilman, Boss Marz said, turning to address Seamus. You can count on the Maladanti in the coming election.
I dont need the likes of you stumpin for me, Marz, Seamus replied sharply, scowling at the Maladanti like he was something hed just scraped off the bottom of his shoe.
I wouldnt be so sure of that, if I was you, Councilman, Marz warned. The Maladanti can be a powerful ally at the voting boothsor a dreadful enemy.
And with an ally like ye, who needs a foe, eh? the leprechaun said, spitting on the ground for emphasis. Go on with ye, Marz. Ill sink or swim on me own.
Have it your way, little man, the Maladanti snarled. But dont let it be said you werent given your chance.
With that Boss Marz turned and headed back through the crowd, which recoiled en masse, as if he were a deadly serpent. As he scanned the picketers, his gaze fell upon Hexe and me, and a nasty grin spread across his face. Marz raised his right hand, as if in greeting, then slowly drew his left index finger across the wrist in a mock amputation.
* * *
Needless to say, neither one of us was in the best of moods after our latest brush with the Maladanti. In fact, we argued the entire way back to the house.
I want you to go back uptown to your parents, Hexe said insistently. Its not safe in Golgotham right now.
And what makes you think Id be any safer up there? I countered. If Esau can make it all the way from the Infernal Region, crosstown traffic isnt going to be much of a deterrent to him.
I just dont want you and the baby to get mixed up in whatever batshit evil scheme my uncle has up his sleeve. And that doesnt even factor in the Maladanti.
I get a funny feeling Im on the hit list, no matter what we do. Your uncle seems to have a really creepy thing for me, I said with a shudder. Im also pretty sure that part of Esaus plan is to split us up.
I think the old chuffer cant stand to see anyone happy, he said sourly.
Besides, I cant find anyone either willing or qualified to deliver our baby outside Golgotham, I pointed out.
I still say its too dangerous, Hexe insisted.
Youre probably right. But Im still not packing up and heading home to Mother. I might not be able to sling spells like you used to, but I do have some magic I can bring to the table.
We were still arguing the matter as we entered the house, only to fall silent at the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. Upon investigating, we found Mr. Manto sitting at the table next to Clarence, drinking tea.
Aloysius! Hexe exclaimed in surprise. What are you doing upstairs?
I came to bear witness, Mr. Manto replied. As he turned to smile at us, I could tell the old soothsayer was flying high on diviners sage again. And also to spend some time in the company of this charming young fellow, Mr. Manto leaned over and patted Clarence on the leg. Clarences cheeks turned pink, but he did not offer to remove the older mans hand from his thigh, as he is an excellent conversationalist and makes a damn fine cup of tea.
Bear witness to what? I frowned.
Just as I finished the sentence I was gripped by a strong cramp in the middle of my back and upper abdomen that seemed to come out of nowhere. I gave a sudden gasp of pain and grabbed at the kitchen counter to steady myself. Suddenly Hexe was there, slipping his arm around me as he helped me to a chair.
To that, the oracle replied simply. The dawn of the coming age.
Tateare you all right? Hexe asked anxiously.
Im scared the babys coming, I groaned. The doctor said I was farther along than I realized, but its still too soon. . . .
Not by Kymeran standardsour women normally carry a child for six months.
Now you tell me! I grunted.
Stay right here and let Aloysius and Clarence look after youIll go upstairs and pack your overnight case, and then Im taking you to the Temple of Nana.
The Temple of who?
The Kymeran goddess of childbirth, he explained as he hurried out of the kitchen. Her priestesses are trained as midwives. Nearly every Kymeran child in Golgotham is born in her temple.
Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Timmy? Clarence asked solicitously.
Yes, you can call my parents and let them know whats going on.
Are you sure you want me to do that?
My mother may be a massively insecure, social-climbing racist, but she is my mother and she does care about me, in her own weird, fucked-up way. Besides, youre probably still advising my father over the phone as to which tie he should wear.
You know me too well, Miss Timmy. Clarences smile disappeared as I grimaced in discomfort as yet another wave of pain radiated through my body. There, there, he said as he patted my hand. Everythings going to be all right.
I looked past him to where Mr. Manto sat, still sipping his tea. Is it? I asked anxiously. The oracle did not answer, but instead simply smiled, his pupils so dilated they eclipsed the whites of his eyes.
Chapter 29
Theres nothing to be afraid of, Tate, Hexe said as he helped me into the hansom. The Daughters will see to everythingitll all be over soon.
Where to, Serenity? Kidron asked.
The Temple of Nanaand watch the potholes!
The centaur snorted his understanding, breaking into a brisk canter.
How do you feel? Hexe asked, eyeing me cautiously.
Like Im trying to lay an egg, I grunted. Honey, I should have said something before nowbut I thought we had more time than this. Theres something I need to tell you about the baby. When I had an ultrasound . . . I found out our baby is human. He only has ten fingers and toes. Im sorry. I should have told you sooner . . . but I was afraid. . . .
Hexe merely laughed and wrapped his arms around me. It doesnt matter to me if our child is human or Kymeran. I dont even care if hes born a norlock. The only thing that really matters to me is that he arrives in this world safe and sound. Thats it. I surrendered my right hand because trying to keep it would rob me of the woman I love; you gave up your inheritance because keeping it meant giving up everything that makes you happy. So what if our child doesnt have magic? Hes not going to have a million dollars, either. That just means hell be like every other kid that comes into this world. And you know what? Im good with that.
You know why I love you? I managed to smile, despite the contractions. Because you can make chopping off your hand and getting disinherited sound like the best decisions weve ever made.
* * *
The Temple of Nana was located, appropriately enough, on Maiden Lane, home to Golgothams self-segregated female communities, such as the Amazons, Valkyries, and fauns. It was a neoclassical rotunda, its façade of brick covered in stucco, with a roof of slate and lead. The central rotunda stood a hundred feet high, with a domed and balustraded roof. The main entrance was an oval-shaped door that was so narrow Hexe and I had to enter single file. The foyer of the temple was long and equally claustrophobic, its walls barely three feet apart. There was no light at all in the corridor, save for the glimmer at its farthest point.
Upon reaching the end of the hallway, we found ourselves in the rotunda of the temple, which had ten separate interior stories that opened onto a central atrium capped by a rose-quartz skylight that tinged everything slightly pink.
At the heart of the temple stood a fifty-foot statue of a triple-visaged, four-armed woman. The far right face was that of a young girl, the middle face that of an adult woman, while the far left face belonged to an old woman. Both her breasts were bared, the right full and pert, while the left teat hung withered and flat. The goddess first hand wielded a pair of shears, her second cradled an infant, the third held a length of umbilical cord, while the fourth and final hand held a jug from which water eternally poured forth into the fountain pool in which the idol stood.
At the foot of Nana was a receptionist desk youd expect to see in a medical clinic tended by a jade-haired Kymeran woman dressed in a shell-pink sleeveless robe. As Hexe helped me approach the desk, she left her seat to greet us.
The Daughters of Nana welcome you to her temple, she said with a warm smile. My name is Miri. How long have you been in labor?
About an hour, I guess, I replied.
As she drew closer, a look of surprise flickered across Miris face. Im terribly sorry, but Im afraid the Daughters of Nana only accept Kymeran mothers.
Hexe stepped forward, his golden eyes flashing in anger. She carries my childis that not Kymeran enough for you?
The priestess lowered her head in ritual obeisance. Forgive me, Serenity. I did not realize. She quickly turned back to the desk and spoke into an intercom that echoed throughout the temple. Sister Tipi, please report to the reception desk. . . .
Within seconds an older Kymeran woman with hair the color of sunflowers and dressed in salmon-colored robes appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Welcome, Serenity, to our temple. I am Sister Tipi, midwife emeritus of the Daughters of Nana. I shall be the one tending the birth of your child.
Without warning, I suddenly found myself doubled over in pain. As I cried out, I was dimly aware of a splashing sound, followed by an abrupt dampness on my thighs, and for a brief second I was afraid I had wet myself.
Her water has broken. Page Sister Zena and have her report to birthing chamber three fifteen, Tipi said, checking the clipboard she was carrying.
Right away, my sister, the priestess replied.
Tipi led us to an old-fashioned birdcage elevator that took us to the third floor of the temple, which was lined with numbered doorways, like a hotel. I wasnt sure what to expect in a temple dedicated to a goddess of childbirth, but was pleasantly surprised to discover the birthing chamber contained a bed, rocking chair, and a bassinette, as well as a foldout chair that converted into a bed, and an oversized Roman bathtub.
This is your birthing chamber, Sister Tipi said. Please make yourself as comfortable as you can while I prepare the birthing pool.
You want me to give birth in the water?
It is the Kymeran way, the midwife-priestess explained. It is a ritual that ties us to the island that birthed our race, millennia ago. It also has the added benefit of greatly reducing your pain, supporting your weight, and taking the stress off your perineum during labor.
Now youre talking, I grunted as I eased myself into the rocking chair. Anything that keeps me from getting stitches is A-okay with me.
Just then another Daughter of Nana, this one with moss green hair and dressed in candy pink robes, entered the room.
Hello, my name is Zena, she said as she took my hand. Im going to be your Pain-Taker.
I frowned and looked at Tipi. But I thought you were going to be my midwife?
Yes, I am, the priestess replied. Sister Zena is here to alleviate your pain during labor.
You mean shes an anesthesiologist?
Something like that. Zena smiled. Save that we Daughters of Nana do not utilize drugs of any kind.
Before I could ask any more questions, I was hit by another contraction. And this time it was a doozy. It felt like everything below my breastbone was in a giant clamp that was being gradually, but mercilessly, cranked shut. I gripped the armrests of the chair I was sitting in so hard I was surprised they didnt splinter. Zena quickly stepped forward and knelt before me, so that she could look into my eyes, and placed her hands atop my own.
Take a deep breath and then let it out, slowly, she instructed in a calm voice.
I did as I was told, focusing on Zenas scent, which smelled of almonds and violets. The priestess tilted back her head, and her eyelids fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. As I exhaled, she inhaled, and the pain I was experiencing abruptly diminished, as if someone had turned a dial.
How do you feel? Zena asked, her pale gray eyes seeming a little less focused than before.
Much better, I said gratefully. Thank you.
As Zena stepped away, Sister Tipi came forward and placed her hand on my stomach. Premature birth is common with children such as yours, she said matter-of-factly. But your babys heartbeat is strong. All is going well.
The attending Daughters of Nana helped me change out of my street clothes into a lightweight linen gown, and for the next few hours I lay propped up in the bed, riding out the contractions with the help of Zena. Thats not to say it was a walk in the park. Although the Pain-Taker was able to reduce my discomfort considerably, she did not erase it entirely. Hexe stayed with me the whole time, doing his best to try to make me comfortable by putting cold compresses on my forehead and coaching me on my breathing, or bringing me tea or ice chips whenever I got thirsty. Whenever the pain got to be too much, Zena would quickly step in and take it from me by placing her hands on me.
Throughout all this, Tipi monitored the progress of the delivery by her own laying on of hands. The light in the room was kept subdued, and hidden speakers piped in natural ambient noise, like the sound of rain, wind chimes, and birdsong. This, combined with the calm, self-assured manner of the attending priestesses and Hexes presence, helped prevent me from feeling stressed. Still, although I wasnt in a lot of pain, I was exhausted by the start of my sixth hour of labor, and eager to get the whole thing over with.
Youre dilated to six centimeters, Tipi announced in her no-nonsense voice. The child will be coming soon. Its time to get in the water. She and Zena lifted me off the bed, one to each arm, and guided me to the waiting tub, which was large enough to accommodate three people. As I eased into the warm water, I grasped the handholds molded into the tub to anchor myself.
You, too, Serenity, Tipi said, motioning to Hexe. Your job is to catch your child as he shoots free, and bring him to the surface and . . . Her voice trailed off as she stared at the stump where Hexes right hand should be.
And do what? Hexe prodded.
...hand him to his mother.
Dont worry, Sister, Hexe said as he stripped down to his boxers. I might be missing a hand, but I still have both arms. Im perfectly capable of catching my son when he makes his appearance.
As Hexe climbed into the water, Zena positioned herself behind the head of the birthing tub, within easy reach of me, while Tipi stood at its foot. The midwife-priestess held up her arms, her palms open and turned outward, and began chanting in Kymeran.
Whats she saying? I asked.
Its the Invocation of Nana, Hexe explained. Ill translate; it wont be exact, but its close enough:
When racked with labor pangs, and sore distressed,
We, your Daughters, invoke thee as the souls sure rest;
For thou, Nana, alone, canst give relief to pain,
Which the healer attempts to ease, but tries in vain.
Nana, Protector of the Child-Bed, venerable power;
Who bringest relief in labors direst hour;
We beseech thee: Deliver this woman.
What good is that supposed to do me? Ahhhhh! I cried out in agony and alarm as my entire body from the shoulders down suddenly pushed of its own accord. Zena leaned forward and placed her hands on my temples, pulling the pain from me as it crashed down like a wave from an angry sea. Tipis chanting became louder and more urgent than before, and I became dimly aware that the cadence of her voice now matched the timing of my contractions.
Nanas face is turned to you, now, Zena whispered, her lips pressed close to my ear. You and your child are under her protectionnow push!
I gritted my teeth and bore down as hard as I could, struggling to jettison my precious cargo. I was so exhausted, I felt as if I were trapped in a Möbius stripthat I had, somehow, always been in labor, and would always be in labor; that there was no baby, no future, just the eternity of striving to push something that was and, yet, was not, of myself from myself. I looked in the direction of Tipi, who was still at the foot of the tub, invoking the name of her goddess, and saw standing behind her the shadowy outline of a woman. As I struggled to bring the figure into focus, her face changed from that of young woman, to matron, to crone, and back again. As different as each visage was, one from the other, each face bore the same smile and the same pair of golden eyes.
I heard Hexe excitedly call out, as if from an impossible distance, I see the babys head! I see his shoulder! I took a deep breath and bore down a final time, forcing our baby out of my birth canal and into the arms of his father. Ive got him! Hexe shouted, splashing about like a hillbilly trying to catch a catfish by hand.
As he brought our son to the surface, Tipi finally halted her chanting and stepped into the tub, using a ball syringe to suction the plugs of protective mucus from the babys nostrils and mouth so he could breathe on his own. Only then did he begin to cry, giving voice to a lusty, insistent squall.
Is he okay? I rasped.
Hes more than okay, Tatehes perfect, Hexe grinned as he placed our newborn son, still attached to his umbilical, onto my belly.
I had never been as exhausted and elated as I was at that moment. Esau, Boss Marz, the Maladanti, Hexe losing his hand, my parents disinheriting meall those things lost their meaning as I gathered my child into my arms. I wept and laughed in equal measure, covering the top of his still-damp head with kisses as he waved his fists like a tiny boxer at the brave new world he now found himself in. I was so happy and relieved, I barely noticed the sorrowing look exchanged between Tipi and Zena as they noticed the number of fingers on my babys hands.
Hexe climbed out of the water and put his clothes back on, allowing Sister Tipi room to deliver and dispose of the afterbirth, and then sever the umbilical cord. The priestess handed the baby over to Hexe, who proudly cradled him in his arms as she and Zena helped me out of the birthing tub and back onto the bed.
I propped myself against the headboard and reached out to take our son from Hexe, so I could breastfeed him. Suddenly Tipi and Zena gasped out loud in surprise and dropped to their knees.
All Hail the Blood of Arum! the priestesses proclaimed in unison. All Hail the Heirs of Adon!
It wasnt until I looked down into my newborn sons tiny, wrinkled face, and saw him looking up at me, that I understood the reason behind their adoration. For while my child might have his mothers handshe had his fathers eyes.
Chapter 30
I cant believe we went through so much drama for something so tiny, I said in a hushed voice as I watched my new son nurse. But it was worth every second.
Tipi and Zena, their jobs now done, had withdrawn from the birthing chamber to allow Hexe and me time to bond with our new child. Hexe was stretched alongside me on the bed, staring at his son in open awe. He chuckled as the baby wrapped his tiny hand around his left index finger.
Now that hes here, what do you think we should call him? he asked.
Ive been wondering that, myself, I admitted. I thought we had a little more time to pick out a name. Boy, was I wrong about that.
Before we could discuss the topic any further, I heard what sounded like an all-too-familiar voice raised in argument just outside the door. A second later the door to the birthing chamber flew open and in came my mother, full steam ahead, trailing Sister Tipi in her wake.
How dare you tell me I cant see my own daughter and grandchild? my mother exclaimed, displaying her finest high dudgeon.
Madam, please! Tipi exhorted. It is tradition that the first hour of the newborns life be shared with the parents.
What utter hogwash! Honestly, what kind of hospital is this?
Its all right, Sister, I said wearily.
The priestess gave me a dubious look, but withdrew from the room without further argument. I braced myself for the barrage of backhanded compliments and thinly veiled insults that were sure to follow. But to my surprise, my mother swooped down upon me, throwing her arms about my neck.