Page 26 of Postpartum Spells & Infant Hells

Mom picked up Nyssa as Nana breezed past and plucked Thaniel out of his crib. "Come on, Little Storm," she crooned, settling him into the crook of her arm. "Let's go raise some hell. And don't you dare tell your mother where you learned that word. We'll both be in trouble," she added with a wink down at his scrunched little face as if I wasn’t standing right there.

Mom and I trailed after her, both of us biting back laughter as Nana kept right on murmuring to Thaniel about all the mischief the two of them were going to get into. Every word of it was delivered like sacred gospel. We'd barely made it to the kitchen when the back door opened on a gust of wet air, and my oldest son walked into my kitchen.

"Jean-Marc!" I had Melaina against my shoulder and no free hands, so I crossed the floor and pressed my cheek to his, breathing him in. "You're supposed to be four states south of here, pretending you don't screen my calls. What are you doing at home?"

He dropped his duffel by the door and let me wrap one arm around him after I situated Melaina. Exhaustion formed dark bruises under both his eyes. "Midterms finished Thursday, and you've sounded like the world was ending every time we've talked lately," he reported, kissing the top of Melaina's head before plucking her from my arms. "I wasn't going to sit in a dorm translating Beowulf for a grade while my family fought evil. I caught the first flight out of Raleigh I could get on."

"You should have told me you were coming." I cupped the back of his neck the way I had when he was small enough to lift. My heart panged when it hit me again how grown he'd gotten. "I'd have come to the airport to pick you up. And would have had Mythia make some of her new brownies."

"Because you'd have told me to stay and study." He made a face at his sister, who laughed in response. He was so good with the babies despite rarely being home. "What do you need, Mom?"

"What don’t I need?" I steered him toward the island. I updated him on the latest ending with, "Ava told me to my face what building the bridge cost her. I don’t want to lose half of my power. I’ve had my kids, but I don’t want Nina to lose her chance at children of her own.”

Stella made a face. “Getting the sight that never left her sounds horrible, too.”

“She didn’t tell us how she did it, so we need to find that out. I won't pour my magic into something this size blind," I added. “There are methods buried in grimoires somewhere. The one Lilith managed to find through an archivist had been destroyed. I need you to help us find them."

Stella clapped her hands together. “Let’s call Elena. Ava sent her number along with the rest of the list.”

“You’re the best,” I told her. “Place the call.”

Mythia put a plate of fresh brownies on the island along with several cans of soda and tea. Grabbing a Coke, I popped the tab while Stella dialed the number. Elena was the woman the whole net ran through. She picked up before the second ring finished. The line filled with the clatter of something set down, a wet snip of stems, and a radio playing low.

"You must be the Pleiades." Elena's voice came warm and unhurried, like she'd been expecting me for years. "Ava finally let one of you live long enough to dial my number. Tell me about your babies before you tell me about your trouble. Boy or girl? How old are they? Are they sleeping at all?"

"My mate and I have triplets that are four months old. Two girls and a boy." A surprised laugh scraped out of me. "They’re sleeping in fits, eating like they're being timed, and doing things four-month-olds have no business doing, even for the offspring of a god. Which is most of the trouble, give or take."

"Of course it is. It always begins in the cradle." Something rustled and was set aside on her end. "All right, mija. What is it you need? And get to the point. I don’t have the time or the patience for more."

I leaned into the counter and watched Aidon come in off the porch with mud drying on his sleeve. "Then I'll be blunt, since I'm out of room to be anything else," I admitted. "We've decided to build a Wayfarer’s bridge to stop Kaltherax. But we don't have the faintest idea how. Ava wouldn't give me a single step of the ritual. So, I'm calling the woman everyone swears the net runs through, hoping you'll tell me how. Or who's got it written down somewhere."

The line went quiet long enough for me to check the screen to be sure she hadn't hung up. When Elena spoke again, her voice had gone careful. "You gave it to me as I asked, so I won't bury you with the polite ones," she allowed as the sound of a chair creaked under her weight. "But you're chasing a thing that doesn't exist the way you want it to, Phoebe. There is no book. There has never been one book."

"Crap. That’s not what I wanted to hear. Especially not before I've had breakfast," I muttered, pressing the heel of my hand against one eye.

"I know, mija. I know it." Her words were gentle, the way you'd talk a person back off a ledge. "Listen to me. Ava carries scars from the living half. She hesitates to share the casting and the crossing because she knows well what the process takes out of whoever does it. Those before her had never focused on more than the dead half of the equation. It’s why she has been able to save some of them. It’s also why a living person can cross and return still alive. Most of the old wording burned years ago. It was sabotaged on purpose by people who would rather the children stay lost. Whatever survives, you will have to gather in pieces."

"What can you give me?" I pressed, because she so plainly had some information. "Where do I start?"

"With Margaret," Elena informed me. "She kept the fullest record anyone in this whole sad little net ever managed. Ava has guarded part of it for forty years like a dog lying over a grave. If that woman has decided you're meant to build another bridge, she will send it to you herself. You won't have to ask. Until she does, you’re chasing smoke. You’ll wear yourself to the bone doing it. So don't."

"You're remarkably comforting for a woman who just told me I've got nothing," I returned. It was startling to find I half meant it.

That dragged a laugh out of her that was low and real. "That’s a first for me, but I'm glad because you're going to need it. I’ve decided to like you. Here's what you do today, since I know you can't sit still. I’m like you, so I recognize it. Call Wilhelm and be prepared for a long conversation.”

"Why is that?" Stella pressed, leaning closer to the phone in my palm.

"Who's that?" Elena barked, the sharpness of it making me flinch.

I cringed, my pulse kicking into a frantic gallop against my ribs. "Sorry, that's my best friend. She's going to help me with all this," I rushed to explain. "My mate's here too, along with my older kids, my mother, and my grandmother. I should have disclosed that up front."

"I already knew your mate was with you," Elena returned, dry as old bone. "I can feel his power scorching me straight through the line." She exhaled, and I pictured her pinching the bridge of her nose. "As for Wilhelm. He takes his sweet time and buries you in details you couldn't possibly care about. Rush him, and he sinks right back under and stays there."

"So, he's a slow, thorough sort of man," Nana mused, dragging the words out with a wicked little curl to her mouth. "Does he take his time with everything, I wonder? Because I might just pay the man a home visit and find out exactly how long he can keep going before he sinks back under." She fanned herself, and I choked on my own spit while Stella outright cackled.

My cheeks heated and I shook my head. “Ignore Nana, she’s obscene on a good day.”

Elena barked out a laugh. “Dios mio. I like you and your family. After Wilhelm, you should call Astrid. If you can, point her at something and then get out of her way. Do not call Morrigan unless every other door has slammed in your face."