As the wave subsided, I heard a voice I felt I should recognize say, “Put me down. Put me next to Mercy.” The voice was dry and cracked. It seemed to come from an ancient place.
A hand took mine. It was cold, withered. Still, there was something in his eyes. “Uncle Oliver?”
The old man nodded his head. “Yes, Gingersnap, it’s me.” Adam knelt next to him, holding him up. It seemed without Adam’s support, Uncle Oliver would collapse.
“Was it the photo?”
“Photo?”
“The one you damaged. The one of you and Granddad?” The question cost me a lot. I had to pant to keep from passing out.
I was surprised by the sound of Oliver’s reedy laughter. “No, sweetheart. It’s nothing like tha
t.”
“Then what is it?” Iris demanded. Something in her tone seemed to say she had her hands busy enough with me, she didn’t need any kind of nonsense from her little brother right now. I very nearly laughed, but such an act lay beyond me now.
“You tied your life force to the baby’s, didn’t you, Oli?” Ellen asked. I realized this link had been the cause of the gray hair I’d noticed earlier. He hadn’t added his magic to the runic spell my aunts had drawn on my body—he had given his very life.
“Indeed I did,” Oliver said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Of course, I didn’t count on the little fellow taking quite so much.”
“You have to break off the connection,” Ellen ordered. “The anchors, they are trying to take the baby. They will take you with it, if you don’t cut the tie.”
“And if I do cut the tie, they might just succeed.” Oliver coughed, then wheezed.
Iris approached and loomed over us all. “Oliver. Break the connection. You must. If you let go, we might just be able to save you. Tell him, Mercy. Tell him.”
I wanted to. For his sake. For Ellen’s sake. But mostly for Iris’s sake. She had virtually raised Oliver herself. In many ways, her little brother was less a brother and more of a son to her. She didn’t want to lose her little boy. I understood that, but neither did I.
“Once upon a time,” Oliver said, “I made an unforgiveable mistake. In anger, I made a mistake that took a child’s life.”
Adam’s face convulsed in tears. “I forgive you. I forgive you,” Adam repeated, then buried his face in Oliver’s dwindling shoulder.
“Thank you,” Oliver said, “but when I said ‘unforgivable,’ I meant I cannot forgive myself.” His body trembled. “I know doing this does not make up for the life I took,” he said, and I noticed the hand that held mine had begun to glow. The pain once again faded, and I could focus on his words. “I just hope somehow doing this gives my otherwise pointless life some meaning.”
“Stop it right now,” Iris commanded.
“Shush now, sis,” Oliver said, then focused on me. “How about it, Gingersnap? Will you let me do this for Colin? And if not for Colin, then for me?”
Who knows? If my body hadn’t been nearly ripped apart by pain, if I weren’t so terrified for the life of my baby, maybe I wouldn’t have allowed it. As it was, I nodded. “Thank you.”
I no sooner said the words than the light that had built up around Oliver’s cold and trembling hand shot into my own. Oliver’s body slumped. Someday, when things were better, when Colin was sitting on my knee while I sang him lullabies, I knew my heart would break at the memory of the sight that was going on before my eyes in this moment. Adam clutched Oliver’s frame, but within seconds, it began to dissipate, falling away into powdery dust. Adam tried to grasp at the disappearing residue, but the very act of clutching caused the fines to float away at an even faster rate.
Adam fell back on his elbows, his face betraying the onset of madness. Grief and horror filled his eyes, along with only the finest touch of blame. A wildness took over his features. He spun himself up from the floor, and ran out of the room, along the hall, and down the stairs. Even though I didn’t register the sound of the door, I sensed he had left the house. A small part of me that could see past my own fear and pain worried I’d just watched a man lose his soul.
“Help me get her on the bed,” Iris said. She had moved into crisis mode. She would find Adam. She would mourn Oliver. But her tone told me she had decided to deal with one tragedy at a time.
Ellen’s response came in the form of a whispered prayer for serenity. Would my baby’s fate be one of those things she might still change? Iris circled around to my feet, and I felt Iris and Ellen’s combined magic levitate me and shift me over to the bed. Ever so gently they let me down on the coverlet.
“Did it work? Did Oli’s sacrifice work?” Iris asked as Ellen laid her hands on me.
“I believe it has, but the baby is still coming,” she said, then her voice fell as she whispered something to Iris.
“I see,” was Iris’s response to the unheard comment. She leaned over me and placed her hand on my cheek. “You be brave. Ellen’s gonna see to it that you and that boy of yours will both make it through this. I’m going to go deal with the other anchors.”
“Don’t go.” I reached out and grabbed her arm. “They will kill you.”
Iris gently removed my hand from her arm and let it down gently. “No, darlin’, they are gonna try.” She turned to Ellen. “Take care of her. I am going to put an end to this. I will be back right after I make these sons of bitches pay.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Aunt Iris is gonna fix this for you, honey. You just be a good girl and do what Ellen tells you.”