The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [36]
“And is Travis the father?”
“In my heart he is.”
What did that mean? Grace took a step closer. “I don't understand.”
Vani turned back, a bitter smile on her lips. “You are not alone in that.”
What was Vani talking about? She couldn't be two months along already. It had only been six weeks since Midwinter's, when they met Travis at the Black Tower. Two months ago they had been on the fairy ship . . .
Like a needle, knowledge pierced Grace's brain. The odd looks, the strangely tender gestures. It was impossible, and yet it was the only answer. “It's Beltan. He's the father.”
Vani said nothing, and that was confirmation enough.
Grace gripped her arm. “But how? Beltan is—”
“I know what Beltan is. He was tricked just as I was.”
“Tricked?”
Vani pulled away. “It was the Little People. They drew us below the ship, into a garden like this, only in full bloom. And they caused each of us to believe that the other was . . .”
“Travis,” Grace said, seeing it clearly, as if through magic. “They made each of you think the other was really Travis.”
Vani nodded, her gold eyes haunted.
“But why would they do such a thing?”
“I would that you could tell me.”
Grace couldn't. As Falken had often said, the Little People were queer and ancient, and while they were not the enemies of mankind, they were not friends either. Their ways were a mystery, and their purposes unknown.
“Does Beltan know?”
“I'm not sure. If not, he soon will.” Vani pressed a hand to her stomach.
Grace examined the options. Vani was two months along. It was too late for a tea brewed of mistmallow seeds. And a surgical procedure was out of the question here, in these conditions. “So you're keeping the baby.”
“It is not the child's fault how it was made. And who knows? Perhaps Travis Wilder was not my true fate. Perhaps I was only meant to pursue him, to be led to this.” Vani turned away, but not before Grace saw the tears roll from her eyes.
Since Grace had known her, Vani had always been fierce and strong, but now she seemed slender and surprisingly delicate, alone and frightened. So often in her life, Grace didn't know how to respond to people. But this she understood.
Grace wrapped her arms around Vani and held her close. Vani resisted, but only for a moment, then she let herself weep. After a minute she was done, and gently but deliberately she pulled away.
“You have to talk to Beltan,” Grace said.
“I know. But not yet.” Vani wiped the moisture from her cheeks with a rough gesture. “I wish only that there was a way I could tell both Beltan and Travis together, so that I would have to speak these words but once.”
“Maybe there is a way,” Grace murmured, startled at her own words.
Vani gave her a curious look, but Grace shook her head. She would have to think about it later. Right now she needed to perform a thorough examination on Vani, to make sure everything was progressing as it should be.
“Come on,” she said. “Let's go back in where it's warm.”
Grace held out her arm. Vani stared at it a moment, as if unsure what she was supposed to do with it. Then, tentatively, she hooked her elbow around Grace's.
“I am not good at this,” Vani said.
Grace glanced at her. “Not good at what?”
“Sharing secrets with another.”
Grace smiled. “That's what friends are for.”
“A T'gol has no friends.”
“This one does,” Grace said, tightening her hold on Vani's arm, and they walked that way back to the keep.
10.
It was evening by the time Grace returned to her chamber. She had spent over an hour in Vani's room. The T'gol had been reluctant to allow herself to be examined, but Grace was a queen and a doctor. She was not about to take no for an answer. Realizing this, Vani had submitted.
As far as Grace was able to tell—without blood tests or an amniocentesis—Vani's pregnancy was progressing normally. At first Grace wished for an ultrasound machine, only then she realized she had an even better tool. She pressed her hands to Vani's bare, flat stomach, shut her eyes, and reached out with the Touch.
Instantly she saw the fetus. It was tiny, its life thread