Again, thanks to my first ever reviewers :D
In answer to one of my reviewers: I know the chapters are short, but I'm used to people being dissuaded by long chapters, and plus I post quite regularly anyway :)
To both Daine and Numair, the prospect of children during their marriage was an unspoken but seemingly inevitable thing. Four years ago, when they were wed, Numair had thought of children much more than his young bride. Though he fantasised being a father, he knew that Daine was still barely an adult, and convinced her to use a pregnancy charm for a good three years, with little resistance. When Daine was twenty one, on Midsummer's Day, they had watched the children of Tortall staging an amateur play for the royal court, and it was that day that she came to a decision, and told Numair that she was ready.
And so, a year almost precise to the day, Numair and Daine's child was conceived. Bewildered and surprised, they soon realised that the shared apprehension that followed in the days after Daine's (and Kitten's) revelation were owed to the mere fact that they now were parents, and that between them, they had created new life.
Seven weeks into her pregnancy, the symptoms began to take a steady hold of her. 'Morning sickness', as Alanna and Thayet had grimly told her, came unpredictably, forcing Daine to divulge her food. A more startling effect was that she found it near impossible to listen and to converse with her animal friends-even Cloud, her beloved pony.
One day, as the sun rose to bleed its crimson rays across Tortall's walls, Daine could be found sitting on a bale of straw, crushing stems plucked from it out of frustration. Close by, Cloud bowed her head in futileness. The Salmalin stable was empty, save for them.
You…, she attempted, but the words that followed were decayed and crackled as roasting meat would.
"Why? Why can't I hear them!" Daine cried. The rugged mountain pony could only answer with a regretful stare.
"I feel so…alone. I can't even call them."
The speech of self pity was interrupted by hasty footsteps from outside, and soon Numair appeared. A letter hung in his hand, his face weary with the prospect of yet another crusade.
"Daine-do you have a moment?" He smoothed down one side of unruly raven black hair as an exaggeration of his fatigue.
"Any distraction's worth a moment of my time." She replied, getting up from her seat. She rubbed Cloud on the muzzle, and swept past.
"It's another summons from Jonathan-more immortals trouble."
"What now? A rabid griffin?" Daine said cynically, aware that a common symptom of pregnancy included altered moods.
"Close," Numair grimaced. "Stormwings-we were sent word from the Stone Tree nation."
"Barzha?" Daine asked quickly, ears pricking up at the reference to an old friend.
Her husband nodded. "They need help. One of their own has gone-well, mad."
She raised an eyebrow.
"He was one of their best mages-perhaps stronger than any other Stormwing we've known-and somehow he was consumed by a spell. He's a tyrant. He's already burnt the forest where the Stone Tree's live, and two people are dead."
Both mages shared a foreboding expression. Many humans had been dismayed when, after the Immortal War, when Ozorne was finally defeated, some of the Stormwings remained in the mortal realm. Resented but left alone, the Stone Tree nation kept themselves to themselves, and the balanced of harmony between human and Stormwing was as taut as it had been all those years ago. If two people were dead because of a Stormwing…
"Can't they kill him themselves?"
"No. He's too strong. They need us." Daine processed this information in her brain. She knew what would come next: Numair would say that there'd be no need for her to come, that she needed to rest and take care of herself and the child.
"No, Daine, I know what you're thinking. I can't let you risk two lives on this mission." Numair drew an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
"I won't be at risk. With your Gift we'll be fine."
"Your wild magic isn't working properly. How do you know that you can still sense immortals?" Determination was firmly set in the mage's face.
"I don't know. But I don't want to stay here, lounging in bed all day! I'm miserable! I need a distraction."
"Daine, listen to me," Numair held her by the shoulders, tight but gentle. "If anything ever happened to you, I'd never forgive myself. Please, do me the favour of easing at least one of my worries."
The woman stared at him hard. "I make my own choices, Numair. You don't think that I am burdened with worry when you go to fight alone? We work better, we fight better, and we manage better, together. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."
Daine broke away from her husband's desperate grip, storming from the stables, across the courtyard and into the Salmalin quarters. Numair scanned the urgent letter again, and muttered an unrepeatable word as fears swept over him like ferocious waves that threatened to drown him at any moment.