Page 13 of The Baker’s Shadow

Not a question. A confirmation.

My knees go soft.

“I need...” My voice cracks. I swallow, try again. “I need to know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She waves me closer with one gnarled hand. “Come here, girl. Let me look at you proper.”

I approach the counter. She leans over, inhaling deeply like she’s smelling bread instead of a person. Her expression shifts. Surprise, then something darker. Recognition.

“Sit.” She points to a stool. “Now.”

I sit.

She circles me slowly, those blind-looking eyes tracking every inch. Her fingers brush my temples, my throat, the curve of my stomach beneath the dress. They’re cold. Sea-cold. The touch raises goosebumps down my spine.

“How long?” she asks.

“Two weeks. Since...” I stop. How do I explain it? The shadow in my kitchen. The feeling of being hollowed out and filled back up with something that wasn’t me.

“Since the shadow-born fed on you.” Mariska nods like this makes perfect sense. “And fed you in return.”

My lungs stop working. “You know what he is.”

“Of course I know.” She taps my sternum, right over the place where I can still feel that phantom warmth. “Everyone with eyes can see his mark on you. Shadow-claim. Old magic. Forbidden magic, if the stories are true.” She pauses. “But that’s not why you’re here.”

“I can hear heartbeats,” I whisper. “Everyone’s heartbeats. And I’m... my body is...”

“Changing. Yes.” She presses her palm flat against my stomach. Holds it there for a long moment. When she pulls away, her expression has gone carefully blank. “You’re carrying.”

The words don’t make sense. I hear them, but they’re in the wrong order, the wrong language. “Carrying what?”

“A child.”

The laugh that escapes me is sharp enough to cut. “That’s impossible. I haven’t... we didn’t...” But the memory surfaces before I can stop it. The way his darkness had poured into me. The way I’d felt full for the first time in three years.

“You coupled with a void-walker,” Mariska says flatly. “Doesn’t matter if there was flesh involved. Magic finds a way.”

I’m shaking my head. Shaking it so hard my vision blurs. “No. No, that’s not... he didn’t...”

“Listen.” Her hand clamps down on my wrist. Tight. Cold. “This isn’t a human child. The heartbeat. Can you hear it?”

I go still. Close my eyes. Filter through the dozen pulses thrumming around me until I find the one that’s closest. The one that’s inside.

It’s there. Deep and slow. Each beat like distant thunder rolling across a valley. Not the rapid flutter of a fetus, but something ancient. Powerful. Hungry.

“Oh god.” The words barely make it past my throat. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Mariska releases my wrist. “But shadow-born don’t reproduce. They consume. They feed. Whatever’s growing inside you...” She stops, choosing her words carefully. “It may kill you when it decides to emerge.”

The room tilts. I grip the edge of the counter to keep from sliding off the stool. My stomach, rounded and firm and glowing, suddenly feels like a bomb. Something waiting to detonate.

“Can you...” I force the words out. “Can you get rid of it?”

Her expression softens. For the first time, she looks almost kind. “No, girl. This is god-magic. Old-world magic. The kind that doesn’t bend to herb-women and potions.” She reaches under the counter, pulls out a small cloth bag. “But I can give you this. Yarrow root and black salt. It’ll mask the scent. Keep the other things in town from smelling what you’re carrying.”

“Other things?”

“Predators.” She presses the bag into my hand. “You’re not the only supernatural creature in Deception Point. And the one inside you... it’s going to draw attention.”