Tim Lebbon: Dawn

She felt the baby kick.

DENYING THE PRESENCE inside her was pointless. Lenora did not understand, but she quickly became calm and accepted what was happening. I’m an old woman, she thought, but the baby kicked and her one undamaged breast grew, and there were moments when she could remember what it had been like before she became a Krote. Those years wandering around Lake Denyah were clear to her once again, and the shame and guilt she had felt then became familiar once more. Finding a place in the Mages’ burgeoning army had been the start of something new, but now, with so much history behind her, that moment in her memory felt like the beginning of something old.

Though she would always carry the scars, Lenora was no longer a Krote.

She made herself a home in one of the least damaged buildings, collected wood from the ruins for her fire, cleaned the well and drew clear water. With careful tending, some of the vegetable gardens began to show signs of life. A splash of blue birth-blooms came into flower around the village, and several trees unfurled tentative buds.

One morning, rising early from a dream that disturbed but did not scare her, Lenora walked out to the stone bridge and sat on the parapet. She had fled across this same bridge three centuries before, poisoned and driven from the village for falling pregnant out of wedlock. She touched her stomach and felt movement.

As she watched the sunrise, she thought of a name.