Heph: Modern Descendants 3, page 21
Phyre groaned.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” I questioned for the millionth time. Veva had turned the room into a virtual hospital, complete with units for future babies and monitors of all types. Her concerned eyes searched mine. She understood that we could not risk taking Phyre to a modern hospital. We didn’t know what would happen when she gave birth. Hestia had no history of birthing children, so there was no telling what could happen.
“Heph, I need you to be strong.” Veva’s hand came to my shoulder, and I took a deep breath.
“I can’t lose her,” I whispered.
“You won’t,” she tried to assure, but her normally tough tone was weak. Phyre groaned again, and Veva spun away from me.
I did what I was told. I held Phyre’s hands. I whispered words of encouragement. I wasn’t convinced she heard me. She gnashed her teeth and swore under her breath. She screamed out in pain, making me want to tear down the house, and uproot the whole forest, if it would soothe her. Veva sweated through her smock and Ember stood on the other side of Phyre, helplessly doing the same thing as me.
What seemed like a lifetime passed before one squiggling, messy baby boy appeared.
“Handsome like his father,” Ember giggled in relief.
A minute or two later, another boy came shrieking into this world. They both looked large to me, and I marveled that my tiny Phyre had nurtured such amazing creatures.
I kissed over Phyre’s forehead and stroked back her hair. Her eyes drifted closed in defeat and exhaustion.
“Let her sleep for now,” Veva said, but I couldn’t stop touching her, telling her how much I loved her, and thanking her for giving me so much joy.
Then a monitor beeped. A screeching, elongated sound ripped open my heart, and blood drained out of me.
“Heph, move,” Veva yelled, pressing down on Phyre’s chest. She counted as she worked and I was vaguely reminded of something. Adara on the beach, Triton trying to revive her. As if underwater, I heard Ember scream for Hestia, and commotion ensued. I had hardly moved, stepping back only enough to watch Veva work, and listen to the nails-on-a-chalkboard noise of a flatline monitor.
phyre
I’d been dreaming. The forest was in bloom, and I ran through a meadow. I was laughing as I chased two tiny beings, giggling with delight, and teasing me with their pleasing sound. I spun to find Heph walking in long strides behind us. He could have easily caught me, as I could have reached for these two stumbling babes running before me, but we keep up the ruse of one following the other, soaking up the sound of blossoming summer and bubbling laughter. Heph smiled at me, and the world stood still. I stopped chasing, and waited for him to approach me. His smile shyly grew, and his eyes gleamed. I anticipated the kiss he would give me when he neared me. He was constantly touching me, pampering me with tempting kisses and a tender embrace. I couldn’t get enough of him, and my heart raced.
And then, he passed me. He didn’t stop and wait, but followed the boys without a glance at me. Their laughter grew and their pace quickened. Heph broke into a run after them as I stood still, watching them get ahead of me, too far ahead of me to reach them even if I raced. My heartbeat slowed and I remained frozen to the forest floor, watching them continue off in the distance. Heph hadn’t looked back. The babes led the chase. They climbed the hill for our house, our home, built together with hope for a future filled with love.
Heph didn’t look back.
The boys didn’t stop.
And I stood still.
Then the house burst into flames
heph
“Make her stop,” Veva screamed, as flames fired from the hands of my wife. The sheet caught instantly and Ember flung it off Phyre. Hestia stood over Phyre, chanting in words I didn’t understand, but the recess of my mind recognized as ancient Greek. Veva looked up at Hestia, her eyes questioning for a moment, before the words began to mumble from her lips. Surprised at her own recognition of the ancient sounds, she worked harder over Phyre’s chest while Ember tried to extinguish flames at Phyre’s finger tips.
I stood as if in a strange dream, women hustling and chanting around me. The door flung open and Seraphine entered with Ashen and Adara at her heels. Flame filed in last, and I was brushed aside. I stood in the corner of a too-crowded room.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Adara interjected into the chaos. The hurt in her voice spoke volumes as the others hung their heads, knowing they’d kept this secret from their sister. The thought was Adara had enough to focus on within herself; she didn’t need to know that another of Hestia’s girls was having a baby.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Ember offered weakly.
“I could have helped,” Adara replied. Hestia shook her head, suddenly knowing a truth she never shared with the others. Adara’s eyes found her foster mother and Hestia smiled, encouraging whatever mystery to finally be shared.
“I had a child. I know how this is done.” My heart dropped at the admission. Adara spun for the window seat. I didn’t understand anything I witnessed, but under the cushion was a stash of candles and boxes of matches, collected from a variety of places according to their different color shades and sizes. Lighting one candle and then another, Adara passed the pillars of wax with flicking flames to each sister. Veva still worked at Phyre’s chest but her pressing slowed, her mouth hanging open in wonder.
Each of Hestia’s girls, including Hestia took a candle and stood around Phyre. I panicked that their chants were a séance of sorts, a calling of the fire, willing it to extinguish. Wetness covered my face, mixing with the perspiration of too many bodies in a tightly confined space. I stared at Veva, willing her to do something. Vee looked up at me and removed her hands from Phyre’s chest. Tears trickled down her face as well. She shook her head once and stepped back from the bed, letting Phyre’s sisters engulf the space instead. A circle formed around Phyre, and Veva came to me. She wrapped her arms around my waist, but I hardly felt her touch. I stood, staring at my wife’s limp body, surrounded in a ring of smoky flame and soft chants.
“I’m so sorry, Heph,” Veva muttered at my side, but I stared in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. I loved her, and she loved me. We’d been married. We built a home. She gave me two beautiful boys. Suddenly, my attention turned to two innocent babes, swaddled and laying within clear glass cradles. I walked methodically to their crib and scooped up one at a time in each arm. Veva held the door for me as I stepped into the hall, pressing my sons to my chest, and sobbed.
+ + +
“What the fuck is happening?” Solis barked at my side. He’d taken a baby from me, and paced the hall outside Phyre’s room. Between the soft sound of singing inside the bedroom and the gentle cries of two hungry boys, I couldn’t think. My own tears had subsided for the moment, and I found Solis staring at me.
“She’s…” I choked on the word, not allowing myself to speak it. She couldn’t be. “She’s…”
Solis’ honey-eyes questioned mine, softening as his expression fell. “No,” he hissed under his breath, and I nodded to answer him. Veva remained outside the door, her forehead pressed to it. Guilt sat on her shoulders, though I knew she’d done what she could. The fire was engulfing my wife, and Veva wasn’t a firefighter.
Another set of feet stomped up the stairs and my heart dropped. I felt his presence before I saw him. Death followed him, despite his quiet demeanor.
“Hades?” Veva sighed, looking up at our blue-faced cousin. Her body twisted and she braced herself like a giant X over the entrance to the bedroom. “You can’t have her,” she bit.
“I’m not here for her. You know that’s not my thing.” Hades’ wasn’t Death. That was another entity, but Hades represented the underworld, and my thoughts travelled to fiery pits and darkened heat. He’d come to take my wife underground, if it was best for her. I pressed baby one against me.
“What do you want?” Vee snapped, more aggressive than she should have been. Too startled still to believe all that was happening, it should have been me questioning our cousin. I should have been the one demanding an explanation, but my heart had stilled and my compass didn’t balance. My inked wrist ached, as if the fire inside it had lost its flame. I was lost, with images of my magenta-haired girl lying limp in a bed of flames.
“Vee, it’s time. Do your thing,” Hades said. I looked at my sister, her face aghast as she stood wide-eyed staring back at Hades.
“What do you mean?” Veva questioned.
“I mean, it’s time.” His sapphire blue eyes narrowed, and Veva swallowed. She nodded as if she understood and turned for the door.
“What’s happening?” I asked, completely puzzled at this display. The appearance of my cousin. The sudden confidence of my sister. Even Solis held a goofy grin. “What the…”
“Veva needs to realize her power,” Solis answered.
I blinked.
“What power?”
“The one that protects women and children. Her midwife skills need a second chance.” I stared at Solis a moment, still not comprehending.
“Is she using my wife as some kind of experiment?” I barked.
“She’s going to bring your wife back.” Solis’ words empowered me and I handed the baby to Hades. An awkward transition occurred, but after a moment, Hades understood how to hold him. Two broad steps and I entered a room heavy with wisps of lingering smoke and choking fragrance.
“She’s asking for you,” Veva said, and I stared in wonder as my wife lounged upright on the bed. Her skin shone with sweat, but her smile was restored. She peered at her hands, but looked up instantly as I stood at the end of the bed. Like a phoenix rising up from the ashes, Phyre sat among fire scorched sheets and the remaining heat of flames.
“Hephaestus,” she whispered from her magenta-cherry lips, and I took my first real breath in hours.
phyre
Heph’s face looked ashen, streaks of sweat trickling down his cheeks. His expression remained passive as he stared back at me. I worried that my dream was reality. Our home had burned. I lost the boys, and I’d lost him. Dampness covered my skin. I shook with the effort of dying and rising again, something completely foreign to me. I heard them chanting, and Veva pressing on my chest. I smelled the fire and felt the flame, and all the while I raced after Heph in my nightmare while he ran away from me. But the call to the flickering flames and the sounds of my sisters turned me away from the retreating back of Heph. I struggled in the dream, especially when he didn’t respond to me.
Don’t you want me anymore? I thought in my head, but there was no answer to my call, and the songs of sisterhood carried on. Making a decision to follow the fiery sound of ladies chanting, I turned for my sisters and ran. A gulping breath seized my chest, and I swallowed the necessary oxygen to feed the spark within me.
My little spark, the words rang out, and a blaze of energy grew. I raced for the cry of my sisters and opened my eyes to see Veva standing over me, her smile refreshing as her eyes glistened.
“Thank the gods,” she whispered.
“Thank a goddess,” Hestia corrected, and she hugged me. Moments later, Heph entered the room and standing at the end of the bed was where he remained. I’d lost him for real, I thought, with all the magic of my rebirth, and…my head turned to the right, finding two cradles empty.
“No,” I groaned, suddenly feeling the weight of a hammer slam into my chest. “No,” I cried out, staring at the emptiness of two infant beds. The smell of burning fabric and the lingering heat suddenly suffocated me. My babies. My hands clutched to my chest as my heart, moments ago dead, raced with life, while staring at the loss.
I’d begun to rock and two arms embraced me, pulling me into a solid-wall of a chest. Breathing deep the scent of man and forest, I took gulping breaths of Heph to clear the visions in my head.
“What did I do?” I muttered into his chest, feeling unworthy of his tender hug. Thick hands stroked up and down my back, slowly fingering each vertebrae of my spine, as if counting the keys of a piano. The rhythm soothed me when I didn’t deserve to be comforted.
“No,” I pushed back on Heph. His expression instantly giving away his hurt. I didn’t deserve his support after I’d killed our children. Weeks we’d been without each other. He was afraid to touch me, and I feared I’d hurt him. While I wanted him to hold me, and reassure me as he often did, I couldn’t imagine intimacy with the weight in my belly and the pain in my back. Heph worried he’d hurt the babies and never initiated anything other than soft kisses and delicate brushes over my skin.
“What the…?” Heph growled, his expression shifting to anger. Tears fell immediately at the stern look on his face. He’d forgotten himself. For a moment, he forgave me, but reality set in and he remembered, I’d tarnished our children. No, I’d killed them. The salty liquid fell faster; fell too late, as it always did.
“I’m so sorry, Hephaestus. So sorry,” I choked, stating his full name as I rarely did. My head shook back and forth, closing my eyes to block out the disappointment in his. “I didn’t mean it. I never meant…I couldn’t control it.”
“What the…” Heph’s voice softened and a thick hand covered my shoulder. “What are you sorry for?”
“I killed our babies,” I sobbed, covering my face with my own searing, scarred palms. The salt from my eyes stung the open sores, but I deserved the pain. I’d heal all too quickly, while my heart would break, and my head would hurt for the rest of my days.
“You didn’t kill our babies,” he said, stroking his hand down my arm and cupping one hand in his. I looked up.
“I didn’t?” Something in my face made him smile, slowly, hesitantly.
“No, the boys are in the hallway with Hades and Solis.” My eyes flicked over his big shoulder for the partially opened door.
“But…I thought…” Drifting my attention to the empty cradles, I stared. My second hand was encircled with his and he pressed our fingers together. “I don’t understand.”
“We lost you,” he said, his voice low and shaky. “You started to burn after giving birth, and I thought…” He choked on a sob and released one hand to cover his forehead.
“You aren’t upset with me?” The question seemed unwarranted when the expression on his face stilled me.
“Upset. You died and came back. I don’t know what to think, but upset is not the word for it.”
I stared at the puzzled look in his chocolate eyes gone hollow and unfocused as he blinked back at me.
“But you were standing there…and you looked angry…and I thought…” His mouth covered mine and hands delved into my hair. He tugged at the strands as he pulled me toward him, pressing himself against me. God, I missed him, and just as eagerly I returned the kiss, hands circling his neck and forcing him to me. I couldn’t get close enough in my relief. Relief that he wasn’t upset. Relief that he hadn’t left me behind. Relief that I hadn’t killed our babies.
“The babies?” I pulled back, releasing his firm lips with a soft pop. “What did we have?”
A soft chuckle behind him broke the tension and Heph twisted to see Veva and Ember each holding a large bundle.
“You had two boys,” Ember cooed, staring down at one dark head of hair. Veva turned to face the second child toward me.
“They look like their father,” I laughed quietly, noting the dark features of each.
“Let’s hope they have their mother’s spirit,” Heph said, lovingly staring at me, and forgetting our audience, I lunged for him again, breathing in the warmth of his mouth and the taste of his tongue. We had time to make up for, and thankfully, time to repeat all the things we’d missed out on over the last month.
“I love you,” he mumbled against my closed lips. I swallowed his words and whispered them back before opening my lips and proving it more.
A cough broke our reconciliation, and I blushed, but not too deep. I was proud of Heph’s love and my hands slipped around his arm, afraid to release him. He held out one arm, reaching for one child, and Ember crossed the room to bring me the other.
“What will you name them?” Veva asked, a smile in her question, along with curiosity.
I looked at Heph, as we had discussed this at great length. We didn’t want something typical, and agreed that we wanted names worthy of courage, worthy of the journey we took to find love.
“Hammer,” Heph announced, staring in wonder at one set of eyes matching his own.
“Anvil,” I whispered, my eyes watering again at the set that peered up at me.
“Two symbols of strength,” Hestia offered. “Excellent choice and strong names for two boys.”
“The next one will be a fire symbol,” Heph said, looking up at his adoptive mother.
“Who says there will a next time?” I laughed, completely dismayed and discouraged to ever repeat what just happened.
“There’s going to be a next time,” Heph assured as his mouth leaned for mine, and his lips told me we’d be repeating more than having babies, but practicing making them as well.
epilogue
heph
“You should have seen your face,” I teased, handing a glass of wine to Hades. The expression on his face still stern in remembrance.
“I don’t know what to do with babies,” he scoffed, shrugging a shoulder before taking a sip.
“Kids?” Solis shuddered, as if the word was dirty.
“You both lie,” I laughed, looking from face to face of my two friends. Solis paced like a pro with Hammer in his arms. Holding a child was second nature to him, and with the experience of our father having so many, I worried if it might be in Solis’ genes. Hades was a quandary. His father had produced him, but his mother had been another type of goddess, opposite his father. She was life to his death, similar to Hades and Persephone now. Yet, he looked just as natural holding a child, questioning the miracle in his arms.
