When all of that was done, we traced home. A somber Aidan waited for us outside the tracing room of Pride Palace.
His expression sent terror zipping through me. I immediately demanded, “Where are the children?”
“They're fine.” Aidan held up a calming hand. “Yourchildren, at least.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I nearly shrieked. “Is Zariel okay?”
Aidan blinked rapidly and swallowed. “Tima, Horus and Hekate came here to wait for your return.”
“No,” I whispered.
“There was this... pain. It hit all of us,” he went on as a tear ran down his cheek. “It was brief but when it was over, Hekate was bleeding.”
“Katie!” Persephone cried. “Katie? Where is she, Aidan?”
Aidan waved bleakly toward the hallway that led to the back rooms on the first floor. Persephone went running in that direction, but Teharon overtook her. The rest of us followed with less urgency but just as much dread. The first blast of Adro's spell—it must have made Hekate miscarry. I sent her away thinking that she'd be safe in the God Realm but it hadn't mattered. I didn't contain the blast in time. Not for Horus and Hekate's unborn child.
Our solemn procession reached a spare bedroom with an open door and the sound of sobbing leaking out. I took a deep breath before I went inside.
Hekate was curled up on the bed, facing Horus, who sat in a chair beside her, stroking her hair. Her makeup was ruined—streaks of black coating her cheeks and making her red eyes even more prominent. She wasn't crying currently, just staring blankly ahead of her. It was Persephone who sobbed brokenly as she watched Teharon try to work his magic on Hekate. Horus watched Teharon's hands with a shell-shocked stare, not an ounce of hope in it. So, when Teharon looked up and shook his head, Horus didn't react.
Hades had to take Persephone out of the room, she became nearly hysterical, but the other women, myself included, went to the bed and laid our hands on our friend in sympathy and support. We shed silent tears for Hekate as the men gathered around Horus. Pan pushed the men away and knelt beside his friend.
“Hey, birdbrain,” Pan said softly as he took Horus' hand. “I'm here if you want to punch someone.”
Horus turned his body toward Pan, his hand still holding Hekate's, and laid his head on Pan's shoulder. Pan rose into the movement to hug Horus, then Horus started to cry. That sound—that terrible,crushingsound—broke us all, including Hekate. Katie started weeping, her tiny sobs adding another layer of heartbreak to the lament. Shoulders hunched and every eye wept as we mourned with our friends.
I let it go on until the sorrow found a lull—that empty place where you can finally take a breath without releasing it on a sob. Then I called on Love and let it fill me, it's pale pink light easing my pain as it billowed up inside me. That was what I wanted for Horus and Hekate—not a removal of heartbreak but an easing of it: a gentle healing. I laid my hands on their heads, and they went still. My eyes were closed, focused on Love, but they didn't move away from me so I assumed I could proceed.
But as I was about to release the magic into them, another power rose. My star brightened inside my chest, pulling Love back into it, away from the couple. I inhaled sharply in surprise and affront, but with my breath, the star released its light. I felt it leave me in a burst of energy. Horus was knocked backward, off his seat, while the brunt of the starlight sank into Hekate. Brilliant white light coated her body, then condensed in her belly. Her womb.
I heard something. It pounded in my ears. Wings? No. Footsteps? It was slow at first but then quickened. I started to smile as I realized what it was: a heartbeat. A rapid, baby heartbeat.
Light faded as I opened my eyes and let my hand fall aside. Hekate sat up, her hands going to her stomach in wonder and her stare seeking mine. I smiled radiantly, even as tears continued to slide down my cheeks, and nodded. That unreliable star had come through for me twice in one day. I would never badmouth it again.
“Katie?” Horus whispered as he got to his feet, the barest trace of hope in his voice.
Katie just nodded, then burst into tears. But this time, her tears were joyous. Horus launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around his wife. He hugged Hekate exuberantly, then pulled her to her feet and swung her around. They began to laugh that broken, jagged laugh of unexpected joy. Of wondrous relief.
I stepped back; this moment belonged to Horus and Hekate, and they deserved it. But Horus' hand shot out and grabbed mine. He pulled me into their hug and kissed my cheek.
“I bless the day you came into my life, Godhunter,” Horus declared.
“I love you too, Horus.” I hugged them both once more. “Congratulations on your daughter.”
Horus' eyes widened and his jaw fell open.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My children were outside playing since it was right after breakfast for them. The front door had been shut—something that rarely happens and which had likely been done to muffle the sounds of their sweet laughter—laughter that would have been bitter acid to a couple who had just miscarried. When I opened the door, that joyous sound swept into the palace and made me smile. I sent another wave of gratitude to my star.Thank you for this. Thank you for saving those I loved from death and heartbreak.
I stepped onto the veranda and found Sam and Fallon sitting together, somberly watching the children—his thick arm around her slim shoulders. She looked so delicate beside her husband—so pale against his dark skin. Samantha turned anxiously toward me when she heard me approach. Her hopeful stare caught mine, and I nodded.
Samantha jumped to her feet, whooped with joy, and rushed me. I caught her and held her as she cried relieved tears, all while the sound of jubilant lions echoed behind me.
“You did it,” Samantha whispered in wonder as she withdrew from our hug. “I knew you would. I knew you would save that baby.”
“Sam”—I shook my head—“don't put that kind of faith in me. I'll fail you one day and it will crush us both.”
