The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(58)

Chapter


29


“Please!” The woman’s shaking hands were splayed across her swollen belly as she begged Paxton’s grandmother. “I know you’re Lashed! My own mother told me. I know you can feel for its heart and . . . and . . .” The woman began crying. “This is my sixth pregnancy. None have lasted this long. Please . . .”

His grandmother’s face was fearsome. “If I help you, I will be killed when they do the census. I have grandsons to care for. I cannot risk it. Please . . . you must go.”

The women hadn’t noticed young Paxton sidling closer, watching their interaction and soaking in their shared desperation. The answer seemed simple in his mind. This woman needed help. Who could fault someone for helping?

Paxton had never seen a pregnant stomach before. He found himself face-to-face with the intriguing bulge, and without thought, he gently placed both his hands on it. Immediately he felt a natural heat flow through his body, pounding inside his hands, emanating from him. The woman gave a giant gasp, which was followed by his grandmother’s own intake of air.

“Pax!”

“Don’t touch him!” The woman screamed, covering Paxton’s small hands with her own. His grandmother covered her mouth, her eyes watering. Paxton closed his eyes, lost to the sensation. It was as if he were searching for something through a dark maze, using only this internal sense, seeking around inside this mass in front of him, and when he found it, like a star of waning energy, his hands heated again, infusing something into this woman, into the small body that lay curled in her womb. Her stomach jumped under his fingers, and his hands cooled. A rush of energy buzzed inside him. He lowered his arms and watched as the woman ran her hands across her rounded belly. The laugh she let out, and the beaming smile she gave him was like a gift.

“Thank you.” The woman bent and took Paxton’s head, kissing him repeatedly on his brown mop of hair. “Thank you, boy, seas bless thee.”

But before she could even stand again, Paxton’s grandmother took the woman by the throat, pushing her against the table, putting her face close. The woman grabbed his grandmother’s wrist, her eyes bulging.

“Grandmother!”

She ignored Paxton, staring hard at the woman. “If you speak a word of this to another living soul, even your husband, I shall take the life of you and your babe just as easily as my grandson has given it. Do you understand?”

“Yes! I swear it! I will take this to the grave. Please. You’ve no idea how grateful I am. I would never endanger either of you.” She began to cry in earnest. “I swear it.”

Paxton’s grandmother released the woman, who clutched her stomach and sobbed.

His grandmother spoke again, but with much more gentleness this time. “Pull yourself together and go live your life. Never come here again.”

The woman wiped her eyes and nodded, touching her throat. Then she clutched the door handle and left them.

Paxton was so confused. He felt as if he’d done something good. He’d never felt more alive . . . nothing had ever been so right. So why were tears streaming down his grandmother’s face?

“What have I done wrong, Grandmother? I didn’t mean to upset you. I . . . I couldn’t help myself.”

“I know, dear. I know all too well. That urge to mend what’s broken.” She sat on her wooden stool and pulled him to her knees, taking his face in her wizened hands. “Oh, Paxton. I had so hoped the lineage would die with me.”

Tiern rushed in at that moment, covered in sand with salt water in his hair. “Come see my best sand castle ever, Grandmama!”

“I’ll be right there, sweet boy. Run along.”

Tiern rushed out and she turned to Paxton again. She raised his small hands and looked at his fingertips. Paxton stared, confused. Strange purple lines ran along the bottom of his nails. “What is that?” He pulled his hands away and rubbed his thumbnail. “Why won’t it come off?” A sickening sensation filled his gut as his grandmother stared at him with pity.

“The mark will move up and disappear as your nails grow out. You shall stay with me until those lines go away. I have much to tell you and it must remain our secret. Not even your mum, your papa, or little Tiern can know. I’m sorry you must bear this curse, precious boy. So terribly sorry . . .”

As dawn finally broke, a fat squirrel poked its face out of the crevasse of a nearby tree, nose twitching at the silent morning. Paxton moved with slow patience, drawing his bow, watching the animal creep its way onto the slippery branch. Before it could retreat back into its warm hole, Paxton shot. The squirrel let out a small bark and fell to the ground.

Paxton leaped to his feet and retrieved their breakfast. Back at their makeshift shelter, he skinned the small creature, all the while silently thanking it for giving its life to sustain them, by choice or not. He made a crisscross of larger, slower burning sticks on top of the fire to cook their breakfast. At the sizzle of meat, Tiern gave a cough and Harrison moaned beside him. They’d both been restless the past couple hours, but never opened their eyes.

Tiern rubbed his face and looked down at his hands, slowly closing them and stretching them open again. He cracked his neck, then twisted side to side to crack his back.

“By the seas, Pax.” Tiern’s voice was brittle. “Did we truly wander into the ridgelands last night?”