As I finished my tea, the oracle took the cup from me and, holding it in his left hand, swirled the contents about three times clockwise.
“I didn’t realize you read tea leaves,” I said. “I thought you foretold the future by tearing the pages out of books.”
“Bibliomancy is my preferred means of divination,” Mr. Manto replied as he placed the saucer on top of the cup and flipped it upside down, allowing what liquid remained to drain away. “But I have been known to dabble in tasseography, now and again.”
Upon righting the cup, he removed the saucer and peered inside, his brow furrowed like a freshly tilled field. After studying the inner rim for a long moment, he smiled, apparently relieved by what he had read in the tea leaves.
“What did you see?” I asked.
“That you will not faint and fall down the stairs,” he replied. “And that Hexe is waiting for his tea.”
As I carried the tea service Mr. Manto had been kind enough to prepare for me upstairs, it occurred to me that perhaps instead of simply relying on trusting a were-tiger’s sense of smell and a soothsayer’s tripped-out prophecies, perhaps I should confirm things for myself with a nice, old-fashioned home pregnancy test. At least that would allow me to hold off on breaking the news to Hexe, who already had enough to worry about without my dumping this on top of him.
The last time I had to deal with something like this was back in college. My boyfriend at the time was a music major named Taylor. We had been seeing each other for eighteen months, and I thought what we had together was pretty real—up until the moment I told him I was late. Within seconds, the man I believed cared for me became a distant, stony-faced stranger. As emotionally devastating as the possibility of my being knocked up was, it was nothing compared to Taylor’s rejection of me. A couple of days later I finally got my period, and we both heaved a sigh of relief, but the damage was done. There was no way our relationship could return to what it was after what I saw in his eyes. What disturbed me the most wasn’t just Taylor’s total disregard, but the sober realization that the love I believed we shared didn’t truly exist. It was like walking far out onto what appeared to be solid ground, only to realize it was actually quicksand.
Although I knew my relationship with Hexe was completely different from the one with Taylor, part of me was still hesitant. The thought of his beautiful, golden eyes looking back at me with that same horrible, uncaring stare made my heart tighten with dread. I have withstood a lot of things in my life, but seeing that would completely destroy me. So I told myself it was best to put things off until I knew one hundred and ten percent for certain I was one hundred percent pregnant. Isn’t rationalization grand?
As I reentered the bedroom, I was relieved to find Hexe looking far more collected than he had earlier. Scratch remained perched on the footboard, his wings folded against his sides.
“About time!” the familiar sniped as I placed the tray on the bedside table. “How long does it take humans to boil water?”
“I would have been back sooner,” I said, ignoring the jibe, “but I ran into Mr. Manto in the kitchen.”
Hexe sat up a little higher in the bed, a concerned look on his face. “Does he know—?”
“Of course he knows,” I replied. “He’s an oracle. But since he’s in no hurry to end up on Boss Marz’s hit list, we can trust him to keep quiet.”
“It feels so strange, using my left hand,” Hexe said as he reached for the cup I held out to him. “I’m so accustomed to doing everything with my right. . . .” He grimaced as he slopped nearly half its contents onto the floor and bedclothes. “See what I mean?”
“You’ll adjust to it, in time,” I assured him. I turned to Scratch, who was still watching the bedroom door like it was a rat hole. “Would you mind giving us a little privacy, please?”
“If you can say it in front of them,” the familiar said, gesturing with his wings to the owls atop the bedposts, “you can say it in front of me.”
“Scratch: do as she says,” Hexe said firmly. “Go make a perimeter check.”
“As you wish, boss,” he grumbled, hopping off the bed. He padded over to the fireplace and, in a single bound, disappeared up the chimney.
“How’s the pain?” I asked.
“It’s not as bad as it was,” he replied. “But I can’t move my fingers.” He frowned at his splinted right hand, which lay motionless atop the pillow beside him. “I’ve been trying to make them twitch, but they won’t respond.”
“You shouldn’t push yourself so soon. Even with magic, an injury like that takes time to recover from,” I said, leaning in to deliver a reassuring kiss. “Remember the mauling you got in the pits? Even with your mother’s regenerative salve, you were bed-bound for a week. Give yourself some time to recuperate, and take it easy for a little while, okay?”
Hexe’s eyes abruptly darkened. “Where did you get that bruise on your cheek? Did Marz do that to you?”
Surprised, I reached up to touch my face, only to wince as my fingers came in contact with bruised flesh. “I must have gotten that when I passed out over at Doc Mao’s,” I explained.
“You fainted?” Hexe sat up even straighter, a look of concern on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I replied as I shrugged and dropped my gaze to the floor. “It was nothing, just . . .”
“Just what?” He frowned. “Tate, I can tell something is weighing on your mind.” He reached out and took my hand, gently pulling me toward him, so that I was sitting next to him on the bed. “My right hand is broken, but that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like I’m made out of spun glass.” He touched my chin, lifting it so that he could look me in the eye. “If there’s something you need to say, just tell me. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”
As I looked into his warm, golden eyes, all the rationalizations I had lined up for why I should keep my big trap shut melted away, and before I knew it the words came bubbling out. “I’m pregnant.”
Hexe leaned back, his cat-slit pupils widening slightly as he absorbed the news. I held my breath, my mouth dry as cotton, as I waited for his reaction. I got it a second later when a wide, goofy smile spread across his face. I was so relieved, I promptly burst into tears.
“What are you grinning about?” I sobbed. “This couldn’t happen at a worse time!”
“I know,” he replied, clumsily dabbing at my tears with the corner of the bedsheet.
“It’s going to change everything forever!”
“Everything has already changed,” he pointed out gently. “But the one thing that is still the same is how I feel about you. I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you, Tate. The Crown of Adon burns above your head—a sign from the ancient gods of Kymera that we are meant for one another.” He picked up my hand and gently kissed its palm. “I am proud to be the father of your child, if that is what you wish.”
Without warning, the hair on my arms stood up and my scalp prickled, and I heard Mr. Manto’s voice, as if he was standing by my side, whispering in my ear, “From two will be one turned three.” I realized that the future was upon me, and it was now time to leave the Crossroads. “And I’m proud to be its mother,” I said, returning his kiss.
I shed my clothes and crawled into bed beside him, snuggling into the shelter of his left arm. As I rested my head on his chest, he kissed the nape of my neck and whispered something in Kymeran in my ear. “What did you just say?” I asked.