Vylas nodded and looked back down to his feet.
“The Voidwarden knows,” she blurted out.
Vylas’ head flipped back up to face her.
“It was time for a renewal, anyway,” she added.
Vylas turned inside. “Come on in. I’ll make some tea.”
He waved Jularra over with his book, and they both wandered inside. Vylas placed his book on a chair on his way to the kitchen while Jularra slid out a bench and sat down.
Vylas started to fumble around with jars of leaves and herbs. The clinking of glass and hollow pops of uncorked lids instantly relaxed Jularra. Vylas’ tinkering in the kitchen was a sound that accompanied her best entrenched memories. Her eyes glazed over as she started to speak.
“I fought against this, pushed it away… denied it for so long, Vylas. I feel like I’ve been defeated. Maybe I’m confusing how I feel about this with how I feel about our victory in Brinnock.”
“That’s a possibility,” he said, still facing his stove. Countless jars crowded the shelves on the wall above it, and the open cupboards to each side. “But I can tell you your mother felt the same way.”
“Hmm?”
“Defeated. Even though, like you, she knew she was doing right by us. She felt like she had lost.”
A cast iron lid rattled reassuringly. Vylas turned around and set the teapot down before sitting next to Jularra. He grabbed her hand and patted it.
“Listen. You have not, and are not, lost.”
Jularra sniffed and cleared her throat as he continued.
“There is not another soul in this land that can do what you need to do to protect the realm.”
Jularra turned and looked at him, needing to look into his eyes, unashamed of her tears.
“I will help you, Jularra,” he offered. “I will help you and your child prepare.”
Jularra tried to wrestle back her tears, but then started to cry.
“Help her, Vylas,” she implored through gritted teeth. “Let me be the last queen that dies before her time.”
"You will be, Jularra. I promise."
Eleven
Jularra's saddle was drenched in blood.
Keleah and some of the others had tried to help her, but none of their skills could alter nature’s course and Jularra’s pain continued to build. Cramps gnarled her insides while waves of slamming agony hammered at her lower back as though trying to snap it. She'd tried a spell and a hastily-mixed elixir, but neither helped. Out of ideas and running out of time, she galloped towards Vylas, hoping he might be able to save the baby.
She grew weaker with each stride. The insides of her legs were wet and cold against the wind as she continued to bleed. Wanting to simultaneously die, save the baby, sleep, and get to Vylas, she struggled to hold her eyes open.
All of this, for nothing.
The horse tore up the path.
I’m going to die anyway.
She gripped the reins tighter in one hand. With her other hand, she reached down and grabbed the horse’s mane to keep from falling out of the saddle.
The baby’s gone. Acorilan will fall.
The horse’s powerful stride thundered against the ground and sent Vylas sprinting into the yard to meet her, alarmed by her posture and the chaos of her arrival.
“Jularra?” he gasped.
His eyes went straight to the blanket of blood under her. It had dripped down her leg, her boot, and her stirrups.
Jularra could only hazily entertain the notion of getting off the horse. She tipped sideways and slid down. Vylas caught her, bending his knees slightly while he confirmed he had her.
“The baby…” Jularra moaned. Her eyes were closed, her breathing labored. “I think I’m losing…”
She felt Vylas scramble. The sound of the creek grew louder. Vylas gasped, then swayed, trying to distribute her weight a bit more evenly. Jularra bounced in his arms as she felt him slide down to a knee. He brought his other knee down and set Jularra down gently in the creek.
The cold, racing water stung her body awake. Her eyes shot open as she sucked in air as quickly as she could. With the fresh air and the stimulation of the river, her body continued with its plan. She had to push. Her body told her to.
A fresh wave of pain sliced at her insides. She grunted through a scream and clamped down on Vylas’ arms.
“Vylas! Save it!”
“Hold on!” he said, trying to tear himself away from her. “Let me go and get…”
He looked down. She followed his gaze to see a fresh pool of red cloud the water. No! Jularra clenched her eyes shut. Vylas swallowed and hesitated, but not for long.
He fumbled past her skirt and grasped for the top of her breeches. He pulled them down before flapping her skirt back over her thighs. He shook his head, out of breath.
“I’m sorry, Jularra. I’m sorry.”
Her body convulsed. She shot up into another involuntary scream of. She pushed and grunted. Blood and tissue escaped down the stream.
Jularra choked in another chest full of air and immediately started to sob. She climbed over onto a bank of the small creek, her body finally giving her a reprieve.
Vylas slumped backwards onto his hands and watched as she clawed the soil. “It was too far along,” he panted. “I couldn’t…”
Jularra stirred as she continued to cry into the dirt. “It’s going to know…”
Vylas continued to gasp for breath.
“The Voidwarden’s going to know I lost it!”
Vylas rolled over and crawled to his feet. He raced into his house and quickly returned with various plants, compounds, and liquids, before slipping back down to his knees beside Jularra. Beyond exhausted, she managed to lean back onto her elbows.
“What are you doing?”
He leaned over and collected some of the bloody water in a small jar.
“Buying you some time,” he said.
He traced a circle in the dirt with his finger and, along with other elements, drew in symbols for life and motherhood. He placed the jar in the center of the circle.
“I
