Chapter 166 - Life Among the Tanti part 12

Priss went into labor after the snowstorm passed, her water breaking as she squatted at the hearth preparing her morning meal. I had gone to my bed shortly after the sun winked over the rim of the world that morning, and was fast asleep when Ilio flew across the village to summon Priss's mother and sister to his wife's side. I was dead to the world as Ilio and his excited in-laws rushed to the young ones' home, or else I would have heard their babbling and gone to check on her as well. As we'd discussed, after seeing that his wife was well attended, and making sure she was in good spirits, he retreated to my hut to await the birth of his children.

"Wake up, Thest! It is time! The babies are coming!" he cried, and I rolled wearily from my furs.

"It is time?" I asked groggily, stumbling to my feet, then his words sunk in and I smiled in excitement, clasping his arms. "It is time, Ilio! Your children come!"

But he was not so enthusiastic. He paced around my hut all through the morning, growing more and more pessimistic. By afternoon I was checking the floorboards, sure he had worn them smooth. As his wife struggled to deliver the twins, he fretted and despaired, certain of calamity. The boy's lodge was near to mine and we could hear her every gasp. Ilio froze in his steps each time she cried out in pain, his eyes wide, his lips twisted down, then turned to me for reassurance.

"All new life comes into this world in blood and agony, Ilio," I told him. "Her pain will be forgotten when she holds her babies to her breast."

I did my best to soothe him, but my words fell on love-deafened ears.

"What if she dies, Thest?" he moaned. "I do not wish to live without her!"

"She isn't going to die, Ilio," I said. "Come. Sit by the fire. Try to calm yourself."

"I cannot!" he wailed, his eyes full of imagined horrors. "Oh! Did you hear that? I think something's gone wrong! Maybe I should go over there!"

"That would not be wise. The blood—"

"But if something bad happens, I could save her. I could heal her with the ebu potashu. I could make her like us." He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at his locks. "Or perhaps you could do it, Thest. I don't know if my blood is strong enough, but yours is. I know it is! You snatched me from the very jaws of death!"

I quailed inwardly at the thought, but if it came down to it, I would do it. I would make her a blood drinker if it meant preserving her existence.

For Ilio.

What terrible crimes we are willing to commit out of love, no? Or was this selfishness too?

But his fears were groundless. Priss birthed both babies without undue injury, and though her labor was difficult, our resolve to safeguard her life was not put to the test. We heard the cries of Ilio's babies shortly after nightfall. At the sound of their bawling-- first one, then minutes later, the second-- Ilio collapsed to the floor in relief, weeping black tears into his hands.

Yorda came to summon us some time later.

"Come, Ilio," she said, her face lined with exhaustion. "Your daughters await their papa." She looked at me then with a weary smile, strands of gray hair clinging to her round, careworn face. "You too, grandfather."

Yorda and her daughters had cleaned Priss and the babies and disposed of all the soiled linens. The smell of blood and amniotic fluid still lingered in Ilio's home, and it gave us pause at the threshold, but the odor was not overpowering. We were able to ignore it.

Priss lay propped up near the hearth. Her face was gaunt and there were dark crescents beneath her eyes, but she smiled at us as we entered. Yorda had piled clean furs upon her and wrapped both babies, one of which was suckling at the young woman's breast. Priss's sibling was sitting beside the new mother, cradling the second of the pair.

"Come see, Ilio," Priss sighed. "We have two daughters."

"Are you well?" Ilio asked, rushing to her side.

"Tired," she said.

He kneeled beside her and embraced her, then looked to the baby feeding at her breast. Black tears glittered at his eyelashes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. He scrubbed them away, grinning broadly (fangs showing, but no one even noticed, all eyes upon the babes). His fingers hovered at the edge of the child's swaddling, afraid to touch the fragile creature.

"I'd like to name this one Irema," Priss said, stroking the top of the baby's fuzzy head. Irema was the name of Priss's birth mother, who had died many years ago.

I glanced toward Yorda, but she didn't look upset. Priss's mother, Irema, had been Yorda's eldest sister. The Tanti often married the siblings of a deceased mate.

"Yes, of course, whatever you want," Ilio babbled.

"Lorn is holding Little Aioa."

"Aioa and Irema," Ilio said and laughed joyously.

I sidled forward and peeked at the two babies. "They are beautiful," I said. "They have your dark hair and skin, Ilio."

"Yes, they do!" he said, laughing softly.

Lorn approached me with Little Aioa. "Would you like to hold your grandchild, Thest?"

"I'm afraid my cold flesh will upset the child," I objected, but Lorn pressed the tiny bundle into my arms.

"There… See? She likes you," Lorn said, smiling up at me.

I held the child as carefully as possible, afraid even to twitch. I must make the most delicate gestures, I thought, more frightened than I had been in seven thousand years. Cautiously—oh, so cautiously!—I touched the child's plump cheek with a fingertip. Rather than cry out at my icy touch, Little Aioa seemed to find it pleasant. She turned her face toward my cool caress and made a suckling motion with her perfect little coral lips.

I was instantly, madly, in love!

"I think she's hungry," Lorn said, caressing my back as she peered into the baby's swaddling.

"I'm sorry, Little One, I have no milk to give you," I said, nearly swooning in my affection for the tiny thing.

This helpless, beautiful creature was a descendant of my people—a descendant of the children I had made with my wife Nyala; I was certain of it!—and sealed the bond between my adopted son and I. I was joined now to all of them by ties of blood kinship.

The thought made me dizzy with happiness.

Such an unlikely wonder could only have been wrought by the scheming of the ancestors, I thought. I glanced toward the heavens, thanking my forefathers for their generosity. I had sacrificed much to safeguard my people. I had lost even my humanity. But this moment… these tiny creatures… were all the recompense I needed to put paid to all that I had lost. To have a family again! To have a life, after so many long years of suffering and solitude! It was all that I could ask for. It was more than I deserved. I was magnificently happy in that bright shining moment. Perfectly content. My life had come full circle, bringing me back to joy.

It would only last three cycles of the seasons.