In the Shadow of the Goddess (Book 1 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER THIRTY

With the servant Constand breaking a path through the crowd, Jill and Lysandra hustled Geniece back to the carriage. They'd barely gone a handful of steps when Geniece stumbled between them, sagging and trembling.

"This can't be right," Geniece whispered, looking from Jill to Lysandra. "The midwife said I had two more months to go. She said there might be discomfort later on but—"

The words were cut short by a moan of pain and a spasm that rippled through her body. Jill exchanged a look with the senior priestess. She was sure her own expression mirrored Lysandra's: concern, and fear.

"The carriage isn't far," Jill prodded Geniece. "Hang in there. You're doing great."

Another groan. Louder this time and more afraid. Jill abandoned consoling her and put all efforts into reaching the carriage. Her arms burned with the effort of keeping Geniece on her feet. The woman was taller than her and Lysandra both, making it a struggle to keep moving. What she wouldn't give for megaphone and the ability to order the oblivious shoppers aside. Anything to move the crowd the hell out of the way.

When Jill thought her arms would simply tear from her shoulders if Geniece fell once more, they found the carriage. She nearly cried with giddy relief as Rel leapt up, took the crying Geniece, and placed her in the carriage. Lysandra climbed in directly behind.

Jill blinked, still on the ground. "You're coming with us? Shouldn't you hide?"

"I've served as midwife on more births than I can count. I think you'll have need of me."

"Then you can save the baby?"

"The question is, can I save the mother?"

Save the mother? Is that an issue? Then, there was no time for thought as Jill found herself shoved inside the carriage by Constand.

The ride back seemed to take forever. Geniece's face contorted with pain, her cheeks a blotchy red. Sweat dripped down her forehead and blood trickled from her bottom lip where she bite it. Her hands gripped her abdomen and she alternated between rocking and writhing. Lysandra murmured encouragingly, telling Geniece she was doing fine, to keep breathing, not to fight the pain, and a thousand other things that didn't sound remotely useful. Jill sat on her hands, watching Geniece fight not to scream and claw at her own clothing, as if the act of ripping off her dress might somehow help get the baby out.

"Lysandra," Jill said, working to keep the fear from her voice. Still, the word trembled and shook. The priestess looked up, following to where Jill's gaze indicated. Constand shouted in panic. The serving girl screamed and tried to squirm away.

The front of Geniece's skirt was soaked red with blood.

The next moments were a blur as the hurtling carriage stopped, everyone piled out, and the bodyguards carried a half-conscious Geniece into the house.

Jill caught Lysandra's arm, stopping her halfway up the front step. "What you said earlier...Is she going to live?"

The priestess gave Jill a level look. "Will you help me?"

Not the answer she wanted, but..."What can I do?"

"These contractions are unnatural. They come too quickly, without any pause. I've seen no birthing water, only blood...Keep her alive the way you made the temple live."

"I will."

"Then maybe she has a chance."

The priestess ran into the house with Jill a step behind. They didn't run far: Geniece was in the front sitting room, propped on a paisley patterned divan. Lysandra barked orders the moment she entered, for clean sheets, hot water, a clean, sharp knife. Servants scurried about and Geniece's moans turned to full-fledged, incoherent screams.