Page 25 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

Bridget and Hildegard stood by the elevator doors, the doctor bracing one hand against the small of her back and the other resting on the curve of her belly.

"Clan Mother. Kian." She inclined her head.

The elevator was slow, arriving only now at the basement level. As the doors opened, Hildegard began directing the Guardians to the converted operating room where they were to deposit the chests.

"How are you feeling?" Annani asked as they followed the procession into the place designated for the resurrection.

"Like a whale," Bridget said. "A beached one, most days. Turner keeps offering to carry me places, and I keep telling him that this is not my first baby. I'm pregnant, not incapacitated, though some days I'm not sure I mean it."

Annani smiled. "I remember that feeling. I could barely move when I was nearing my term. My babies were all big, and I am even smaller than you. I blamed their fathers, who were all big men." She sighed. "I have a type. They all had something of my Khiann in them, not that any mortal could measure up to a god, but as much as was possible."

"I know what you mean. Julian's father was a big man as well, and Julian weighed almost ten pounds at birth. I was miserable."

"I was not. It was glorious, and I cherished every moment."

Seven children, the prophecy had promised Annani. She had delivered five into the world, each fathered by different mortal men, who in their own way carried an echo of Khiann in the shape of their kindness or the breadth of their shoulders or the particular tilt of their smile. Five children whose eyes she had searched for a flicker of the god she'd lost and had found echoes of him in each of them, again and again.

Five children born and only four remained. The memory of Lilen was a wound she kept behind a wall in her mind and tried not to visit too often because the abyss waited for her there, ready to swallow her again. That left two more owed to her, if the blind seer's second sight had been true.

Two more children were yet to be born.

Would she have them with Khiann, restored and whole?

The thought bloomed too fast and too bright, full of giddy hope that had no business existing yet, not tonight, not before she even knew if Khiann would open his eyes again.

She shook her head.

"Mother?" Kian asked. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes." She composed herself. "I was allowing my imagination to get ahead of me. One thing at a time."

"Where did it go?"

"Never mind." She waved a hand at Bridget instead. "I want to see where the magic will take place. Take us to the converted operating room."

"Of course." Bridget led them through a set of double doors into the large room.

The bones of an operating theater were still visible in the high, adjustable lighting overhead and the drainage grates set into the polished floor, but the surgical equipment had been cleared away, and in its place stood five hospital beds, evenly spaced, each flanked by its own bank of monitoring equipment, cables coiled and ready, screens dark and waiting to be woken.

"This was the only room in the clinic large enough to hold five beds and five arrays of medical equipment, with adequate space to work around each one," Bridget said. "Still, it's going to be crowded in here."

"Is it enough?" Annani asked. "I mean, do you have enough people to take care of five simultaneous resuscitations?"

Bridget nodded. "We'll manage with what we have. For the critical early hours, when each chest is opened, I want one qualified set of eyes assigned to each patient specifically, so nothing gets missed in the chaos of five simultaneous procedures, but later we can rotate." She tilted her head to look at Annani from under her red eyelashes. "It would have been better to stagger it, but I assumed that you would want it done simultaneously."

"Not if that means taking unnecessary risks."

Bridget let out a breath. "We can handle it. We will open the chests one after the other to check that we have five live ones, and then we will take them out of the chests one at a time without rushing. It's going to be okay."

One by one, the chests were set down, each beside its designated bed, until all five stood in a row down the center of the room.

"This one is nailed shut," one of the Guardians said, crouching beside the nearest chest and running his fingers along the seam of the lid. "I'll need a crowbar."

"I'll get one," Anandur said.

Still more waiting. It was unbearable. She had waited for so long that these few extra minutes should not count, but it was getting harder now that she was so close.

"We are almost there, Mother," Kian murmured, close enough that only she could hear him. "You need to hold on for a few minutes longer."