Christine Feehan - Dark Celebration 17

«Mother!» Savannah screamed and rushed toward Raven.

Gregori was there first, wrenching the cane out of the withered hand. Natalya! He kept his body between the old woman and Raven and Mikhail.

Natalya was already weaving a complicated sign in the air, murmuring softly, insistently. Vikirnoff picked the chant from her mind and added the power of his voice. Nicolae and Destiny joined with him, pouring their combined strength into Natalya through Vikirnoff.

They used throat chanting and mage spell, a combination of Carpathian and mage power. Eileen's mouth drew back in a snarl as the mage fought to maintain his shield. They could not attack him without killing Eileen. Her body bent almost double. The warriors ringed her, watching as her face contorted, showed a mouthful of teeth, elongated, and then went back to that of an older, refined woman.

Shea's pain swept through the Carpathian people, nearly paralyzing the men. Jacques, take her to the birthing chamber. Gregori commanded. Francesca, we must go now. She's too close. We cannot wait.

Mikhail took Syndil by the elbow and pushed her toward Gregori. They need you there as well. We will join you as soon as possible. Get the children home. The Von Shrieders will deal with this mage.

Eileen will need a healer, Gregori cautioned, even as he bent to lift Manolito. Rafael was keeping his brother's heart beating and he remained close to the master healer as they all moved into action.

I will see to her, Darius volunteered.

It is done then, Mikhail said as Jacques swung Shea into his arms and strode from the inn, Francesca close on his heels. Gregori and Rafael followed with Manolito.

Natalya's voice grew more commanding, more insistent. She pointed to the floor, ordering the mage out of the body and onto the floor, to crawl like a dog.

Eileen's body rippled with unease, stretched and twisted until it appeared warped. Her throat bobbed and undulated as growls swelled in volume and spittle ran down her face. She slowly turned her head until she was staring straight at Natalya, the eyes deep pits, wells of hate. The mage stared out at her, the wide, distorted mouth shaping one word. «Traitor,» he accused, the voice a demonic rumble.

Her voice never faltered, although Vikirnoff put his hand on her back to steady her, a gesture of complete solidarity.

A shadow slid from Eileen's body, a dark oily substance, insubstantial, impossible to hold in one's hand or to kill. Several warriors tried, punching through the shadow to try to find a heart, even stabbing at it, but it continued to slink along the floor toward the door. Darius caught the elderly woman before she could hit the floor and lifted her into his arms, taking her back up the stairs to her room.

How do we kill it? Vikirnoff asked Natalya.

I don't know. It isn't a shadow warrior so I cannot send it back to the realm of the dead. It is a lost soul doing the bidding of the mage. Only he can really control it, give it peace or send it away. I have never run across a spell to kill one. I tried a few and maybe, over time, I can come up with something, but it is going to go back to its master.

Dimitri returned from escorting Gabriel with Tamara and Skyler back to their home. «I can try to follow it, see if the mage is close.»

Natalya nodded. «Do not let them see you. The mage is strong and his knowledge is very ancient. I remember some of these spells, but they are faded from memory.»

Natalya watched the Carpathian male shift on the run, a fluid, easy change almost in mid-stride. One moment he was walking tall; the next he was running on all fours as a shaggy, black wolf. «Good luck to you,» she whispered, pressing her hand to her stomach as another wave of pain hit them all. «We'd better get to the birthing chamber if we're going to be of any use to Shea.»

Deep below the ground in the warmest chamber of the cavern, Syndil called to the Earth, singing softly to enrich the soil, preparing it as Shea settled down into the soft bed of the richest loam, her head pillowed in Jacques's lap.

Several feet away, Gregori and Rafael worked on Manolito, trying to draw the poison from his body and at the same time, keep his heart beating and his lungs working.

All around them, candles sprang to life and the soothing aromatic scent of herbs and spices filled the air. The great healing chant swelled in volume as Carpathians everywhere, including Shea and Jacques, sang to keep the great warrior from slipping away, while Gregori undertook the journey to recover his spirit and escort him back to the land of the living.

Shea breathed through the contractions, using Jacques as her focus. She simply crawled into his mind and stayed there as contractions increased in duration and strength. In between she chanted with the others, feeling the camaraderie, being part of something so much larger, in harmony with the earth around them. Sisters and brothers coming together as family to heal one of their fallen-a warrior who had voluntarily given up his life to keep Shea and her unborn child safe.

The healing was difficult and slow, Gregori struggling against a poison meant to give a

quick death. Twice he had to stop, pale and swaying with weariness, to be rejuvenated by Rafael and then Lucian. Darius joined them, indicating Eileen was sleeping comfortably. Vikirnoff and Nicolae, Destiny and Natalya entered the chamber, reporting Dimitri was trying to follow the shadow back to its master.

Through it all, Shea remained quiet in Jacques's arms, breathing through each contraction until she gasped and gripped Francesca's hand. «He is coming soon,» she whispered.

«We're ready,» Francesca assured her.

Shea's gaze went to Gregori, already back in the warrior's body. Francesca swept her arm to encompass all the Carpathians in the chamber and without. «You are not alone. The child will be helped into the world, assisted by our people, welcomed by all and protected by all. Gregori will join us the moment he is able. Let your baby into our world, Shea.»

Shea nodded and waited for the next contraction before pushing.

Gregori stepped away from Manolito. «He needs blood,» he announced softly, «and several risings in good soil, but he will live.»

It was Mikhail who stepped forward to offer blood to Manolito, an offering from the prince in respect and honor for Manolito's sacrifice. It was Rafael who opened the earth to receive his brother, weaving safeguards to ensure Manolito's rest would be undisturbed.

Gregori brushed his hand over Shea's head in a gesture of affection. «So, little one, you are, at last, bringing your son to us.»

«I waited for you.»

He smiled at her. «I am here now.»

«Can you feel him? Are you touching him, making certain he is okay to breathe on his own?» She looked anxiously from Francesca to Gregori, her hands gripping Jacques tight.

All around her she could hear the birth chant, and the beautiful sound nearly overcame her fears-nearly. «You checked him for pollutants, Gregori? You made certain his blood is strong?»

«It is done and all is well. Give him to us and then you can rest. You have been too long worrying. Let him come so you can hold him in your arms.»

Her gaze clung to his glittering silver one, and he gave her another nod of encouragement. «Trust me, ma petite, trust in your people and your lifemate. Release him.»

She turned her head and looked up at Jacques. «I love you. Whatever happens, no matter what. I love you and I've never been sorry, not one single moment.»

He blinked back tears and moved so she could stay looking him in the eye. Mind to mind, they reached for their son. They took a breath and she pushed, never looking away from her anchor-away from Jacques-the love of her life.

«Stop. That's good. Just breathe through it, Shea. He's looking around, take a look at him. He's excited to see his new world,» Francesca encouraged.