Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [142]
She couldn’t speak to him in her usual way. He was in another world, with herself in another form. It would be jarring to communicate so she sensed for him instead, searching for his silhouette, allowing the image to play across her mind. She sighed, spotting him in the underbrush. She saw herself as well. They were near the Corsanon gorge, hidden in the reeds, watching the water. In her vision, she had her arm around Drayco’s neck, his rumbling purr making her fingertips vibrate. She smiled, both aspects of her feeling satisfied, connected.
As the pail filled, she felt a warm sensation along her spine, though when she reached for the cow’s hip to pull herself up, the warmth turned into a ripping pain. It lasted for thirty heartbeats and vanished. Rosette’s forehead was damp with sweat, and she leaned against Delilah who looked back at her with huge brown eyes. ‘What was that?’ Rosette whispered. Am I being spelled?
Bracing her back, she waddled over to the gate and latched it open. ‘You don’t mind if you find your own way to the paddock this morning?’ she said to Delilah. ‘I’m not feeling up for the walk.’ The thought of getting back to the cottage seemed daunting enough. She covered the milk pail and collected the eggs, the pain not returning. Perhaps it had been a cramp from sitting on the low stool. It felt like her body had doubled in size, after all, and it was bound to be hampered by certain positions.
Or the baby is coming, Maudi.
Drayco, my love! You can talk to me!
Of course I can, when you are asleep on this side, it’s easy for me to find your mind there. Either way, here or there, you are still you.
She smiled, relishing the sound of his voice, catching up on his doings as she shuffled along towards the cottage, bucket in one hand, basket in the other. He was telling her about the rabbit he caught when the pain struck again.
Maudi?
I’m fine, she said, panting. Her knees wanted to buckle but there was no way she would let them, not with a full pail of milk and a basket of eggs at stake. She started to call for help but didn’t have the breath for it. Excuse me, Nell? Are you busy? She sent the mental message through clenched teeth.
There was only a moment’s hesitation. Rosette! I’m coming. Breathe!
Rosette took a deep breath but it was knocked from her as pain gripped her body. The pail fell and white milk splashed to the ground, disappearing into the soil without a trace. She dropped to her knees. The eggs rolled from the basket, cracking open, bright orange yolks sticking to the new spring grass like strange wet flowers. Nell. Help!
It was the longest day Rosette could remember and the longest night. By morning she couldn’t pretend the look on Nell’s face meant everything was all right, though her mother’s words were soft, encouraging, loving. Grayson’s too. He remained calm and strong, holding her up when the contractions came, allowing her to sink deep into each one. She’d panted, walked, focused, turned and twisted but nothing was helping. The baby didn’t come.
Night turned to day again and for the first time ever she saw fear in Nell’s eyes, and Grayson wouldn’t look her way at all. She pushed, screaming, the roar of Drayco echoing in her mind, though no other sound came when she finally birthed her child. The cottage went deathly quiet.
‘What’s wrong? Nell? How is she?’
Rosette struggled to get up, but Nell eased her back down, her hand on her heart. ‘Give me a moment.’
Still there was no coo. No cry. No movement from the baby. Finally Nell passed the limp body up to her and she held him to her breast. Her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. He was perfect, not a flaw or a mark, though his eyes stared at her, unseeing. Deep, empty eyes. Lifeless. Her tears fell onto her baby as she sobbed.
Nell massaged her belly and Rosette was barely aware when the afterbirth came. They washed her and changed the sheets around her as she held the dead child. Grayson pressed a steaming cup to her