Richelle Mead - Shadow Heir

“It would,” I agreed. “Especially if it came from me.” It was also preferable to Pagiel getting banished. Unfortunately, me “reasoning” with him was easier said than done. “I have to go back.”

“Eugenie—”

“I can do it,” I said, more to myself than Roland. “I’ll be exposing myself, but it’ll be worth it—especially now that I’m not pregnant. Except, the thing is, if I leave here and let myself be known again ...” Here it was, the awful truth that had been building within me since Roland explained about the blight. “If I go to Tucson, I might as well go to the Otherworld while I’m at it. Once I’m out of here, I’m out. If there’s some way I can help undo what’s been done and save my people—to save everyone’s people—then I should do it.”

I could tell by his face that he’d been thinking along those lines but wasn’t happy about the options either. “They really are distracted,” he said. “Your enemies. They’d probably leave you alone if you could help them.”

I nodded. “I know. I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about them .”

“The twins.”

I nodded again.

He took a long time in responding. “Well, the thing is, we can pull you out of here without anyone Otherworldly knowing where you were. And that means no one will know where the twins are either. They’ll be safe.”

“I know,” I said.

“Then what ... ?”

Something in my stomach sank. “I don’t want to leave them, plus I won’t be able to contact them or get updates. And if I go to the Otherworld ... well, you know how these things are. There’s no telling how long I’ll be gone.” The first time I’d gone to the Otherworld, I’d intended to make a quick late-night jaunt. By the time that mess was over, I’d ended up queen of the Thorn Land. “I don’t want to be away from them. I know it’s silly. They probably don’t even know I’m there, but I can’t help it. I just feel ...”

“Like a mother,” he said. He put his arm back around me, seeming more at ease as the one doing the comforting.

“I suppose,” I admitted. “I didn’t think it’d happen. I’ve spent all these months afraid of them, afraid of what was happening to my body ... and now that they’re here, I can’t imagine how I got by without them. Like I said, it’s silly ... especially since I’ve barely touched them.”

“It’s not silly at all.” He was quiet for a few moments. “You don’t have to go, you know. It’s a mess, but no one expects you to take care of it.”

“ I do. These are my people—in the Otherworld and in Tucson. How could I ignore them and then try to teach my children to do what’s right? I would always know I’d abandoned everyone else. Of course, if gentry start regularly raiding our world, my failure would hardly be a secret.” I laughed but found little humor in anything right now. I leaned my head against his chest, like I used to when I was little. “I have to do this. Isaac and Ivy will be okay. No one knows they’re here, and Candace and Charles have enough love for quintuplets. If the twins are discharged before I get back, they’ll be more than taken care of. It’s just ...”

“What?” he asked gently.

I felt tears start to form in my eyes and willed them away. “I just wish I’d gotten the all-clear on holding them before I left.”

“You can wait,” he said. “Wait until you can hold them, then go to the Otherworld.”

For a moment, I was tempted. Nothing seemed more important in the world—in any world—than having my son and daughter in my arms. But the longer I put off dealing with the blight, the more people would suffer. Plus, I had an uneasy feeling that if I waited much longer, I might never actually leave. My life here had been slow and comfortable, which had been good for me. It was what I had needed. It was what the twins still needed. Staying here, living a sweet, uncomplicated life with them and the Reeds would be easy. I could sink into this life and never look back....

“No,” I said. “The sooner I take care of this blight business, the sooner I can come back to Isaac and Ivy.”

Roland held me tightly. “I’m sorry, Eugenie. I’m proud of you, but I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, pulling gently away. “This is the right thing to do. But before we leave, there’s something else we have to do.”

He gave me a curious look. “What’s that?”

I caught hold of his hand and tugged him forward. “Come meet your grandchildren.”

Leaving was even harder than I’d thought it would be. And believe me, I’d expected it to be pretty hard.

It was one thing to talk of sacrifice with Roland, when I was away from Isaac and Ivy and fired up by the thought of saving the Otherworld and stopping Pagiel from pillaging among humans. Going forward with that decision, in the light of day, proved to be an entirely different matter—especially when I was back at the hospital throughout the following week. It didn’t help that the hospital staff kept regarding me like I was crazy. I knew they couldn’t imagine any “family emergency” in the world that would be important enough to justify leaving the bedsides of my NICU-BOUND children. The nurses didn’t judge—not openly—but I was certain I could see the disapproval in their eyes.

Or maybe I was just projecting.

The Reeds were equally astonished, but they had enough faith in Roland and me to believe that whatever cause was taking me away must be important. A good part of what delayed my departure was filling out the reams of paperwork that named Charles and Candace as the twins’ guardians in my absence. Presuming the twins were discharged before my return, Charles and Candace would be allowed to take Isaac and Ivy back to their home. Whenever I started discussing money to help cover the costs that such a venture would entail, nobody would listen to me.

“Nonsense,” Candace exclaimed as we were eating lunch in the hospital’s cafeteria one day. I had just brought up—for the tenth time—the idea of Roland and me pooling funds to buy baby supplies. “I won’t hear of it. What are a few baby things here and there? It’ll be nothing at all.”

I might almost have believed her if I hadn’t discovered a book on “baby essentials” lying around their house, with a shopping list in Candace’s handwriting tucked inside. Most items—and there were a lot more than “a few”—had had “x 2” written next to them, which didn’t reassure me any.

“It’s too much,” I argued. “You guys can’t afford—”

“You have no idea what we can or can’t afford,” she scolded. “You just take care of whatever it is you need to and get back to them. We’ll worry about those little ones. You don’t have to.”

It was impossible not to worry about them, though. No matter how often I told myself that the twins were out of immediate danger and simply had to fulfill their NICU time, I couldn’t help but fear maybe a doctor had missed something. Likewise, although I never doubted the Reeds’ love and devotion, I kept imagining worst-case scenarios. Candace had a dangerous job, after all. What if something happened to her? Would Charles be able to care for them on his own? Would he and Evan have to move in together to take care of the twins, like in some wacky sitcom?

These imaginings delayed me day after day until, one afternoon, Roland called me into Candace’s home office. He’d been checking his e-mail on her computer and beckoned me over to his side. “Look at this,” he said, flipping to a news website.

I leaned over his shoulder and felt my heart sink. “Oh Lord,” I muttered. The story was about a group of “hooligans” who had raided and robbed an outdoor farmers market in Phoenix—on horseback. Reports and witnesses were as sketchy as the Tucson theft had been on TV, but there was no doubt in my mind that this had been Otherworldly in origin. The nature of the farmers market had probably made it easier for them. Food, pure and simple, with easy accessibility. “I don’t suppose they rode their horses from Tucson to Phoenix?”