Page 90 of Stitches
“Strange, isn’t it?” Ashmedai said as the caravan appeared, cresting the exit from the wood and heading toward them. “This is the last time those carriages will return without passengers. I’m still unsure about sending a delegation, but I know we can’t stay hidden any longer with the barrier open.”
“Remember what I told you of the Emerald Prince,” Levi assured him. “He is a good man. He saved me. He means to change things back home. And his father is a good king, if misguided. The first delegation is only meant to test the waters anyway. They won’t even know our true faces at first.”
“And after all!” Dreya bounded through the crowd, dragging a somewhat stumbling Luccite after her. “You’re sending us! Of course all will be well. Who better than the voice of the people, and our most powerful healer to make sure I stay safe?”
The assumption was, since being within the barrier required them to will themselves to look human or elven or what have you, anyone newentering the Shadow Lands wouldn’t be affected unless they chose to be. People from other lands could finally visit or move here without fear—if only they could be made to understand and accept the nature of this place.
Dreya had indeed been chosen as voice of the people, though Luccite was selected mostly because she’d insisted, and because she was an alchemist by trade, which the Emerald Kingdom allowed.
Standing before Levi and Ashmedai, Dreya didn’t immediately release Luccite but kept hold of her arm. They had been seen like that quite a bit lately and, given how much Luccite used to drape herself near Dreya in obvious if unspoken affection, the healer didn’t look all that bothered by the manhandling.
“I’ve been practicing,” Dreya announced, and with a wiggle of her nose, her more chimeric characteristics faded, leaving her looking quite human—except for her hair. “What do you think?”
“You might want to lose a few leaves.” Luccite snickered.
Dreya moved her head as if trying to get a better look, and Luccite rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion. With a shrug, Dreya returned to her normal self.
“Good thing crossing the barrier should do the hard work for you,” Luccite said.
After a giggle and pressing a loving kiss to Luccite’s cheek, Dreya headed up front to help Yentriss with the delivery, but since the crowd was continuing to grow, Levi and Ashmedai were soon met by another set of friends.
“Hello, Ash. Dear Stitches,” Daedlys greeted as he and Klarent came over to wait next to them. “And may I say, I appreciate you left me with a way to continue calling you that.” He nodded at Levi’s finely inked design.
Levi smiled, and then noticed how Klarent’s robes looked slightly more distended than usual. “Why, Klarent, are you starting to showalready?”
“Indeed, I am.” Klarent stroked a hand down the slight bump of his belly. “Luccite said the gestation might be shorter than anticipated. They’ve even been kicking already. Oh!” His hand jumped where he had it rested. “And they’re doing it again. Would the godfathers like to feel?”
He didn’t wait for Levi or Ashmedai to respond but grabbed both their hands and rested them where his had been. After a moment, Levi distinctly felt a kick.
“Incredible!” he exclaimed. “We are so happy for you.”
“What are you hoping for?” Ashmedai asked, his own grin quite wide after feeling the baby. “Wisps or tentacles?”
Daedlys and Klarent both laughed.
“I just hope they don’t come into this world screaming like their father,” Klarent said with a nudge at Daedlys’s floating form. “That might make poor Luccite’s ears ring for days.”
“If that happens,” she deadpanned, since she was still nearby, “I’m letting you two finish the birthing on your own.”
They laughed again.
She was definitely joking, Levi thought.
Maybe.
It had taken until the festival structures were coming down before Levi and Ashmedai remembered the gift from Klarent had been left behind one of the stalls. They’d reclaimed it then, and for all the sadness the memories of the night of the curse once stirred in Ashmedai, he’d found a place of honor for the tome on the mantel of the hearth in his bedchamber.
“Levi! Ash!” It was Kenner, sitting on Grillo’s shoulder, held up by his lizard arm, which he was more than used to by now. “Do you think anything exciting will be in the carriages?”
“Isn’t there always?” Ashmedai answered. “Is Grillo going to let youclaim something, Kenner?”
“Within reason,” Grillo said.
“You know,” Levi mentioned to Grillo, “I never got the chance to ask you something. I didn’t hear the end of your poem to Yentriss. Did you get her to blush?”
“Spectacularly.” Grillo beamed. “Even better, if anyone asks her about it, she blushes again, such a lovely shade of forest green. You’ll have to try it sometime.” He winked.
At long last the carriages came to a stop at the end of the road, and the usual bustle broke out, with people vying for items after those already spoken for had been claimed. Several spools of soft-looking yarn were heatedly sought after, Levi assumed with the intent of knitting a baby blanket, since the combatants were all those with child, the winners eventually being Amuro and Pentelyn, whose pregnant belly was also noticeably larger.
