A staggering pain ripped Green Ash's belly. Bending over, she clutched at the yellow fabric of her dress.
"Green Ash?" Primrose called. He knocked over a water bowl in his hurry to reach her. "Are you all right? Is the baby coming?"
The room had gone silent, and dozens of wide eyes had fixed on Green Ash. Locust leaned over the edge of the sleeping platform, her lean, tattooed face creased with alarm. Short black hair spread in a halo around her head. She shot a glance at Checkerberry.
Checkerberry sat like a statue carved of weather-beaten wood. Only her nostrils flared to show that she breathed. "Witched ..." she whispered. The old woman's thoughts had gone dark.
Primrose raced to the fire to fill a cup with herbs and hot water. Green Ash rocked back and forth, moaning. Her whole body burned as though the invisible creatures of the Underworld had crept into her womb to bite her with teeth of fire.
From the silence, Checkerberry's hoarse voice rose. "Come and listen to me, children. I'm going to tell you a story of long ago. A true story of Nightshade and the evil creatures that come at her bidding ..."
Reluctantly the youngsters tugged their gaze away from Green Ash and stared at Checkerberry, who had leaned forward into the midst of their circle, her eyes blazing.
"I heard her calling," Checkerberry began. "It was in the middle of the night, and I thought she was calling to me. She'd only just come from the Forbidden Lands—four cycles old, she was, and helpless. I'd decided to sleep in the temple for a few nights in case she needed me.
"The wind battered at the temple as I walked through the dim corridors, following her voice. Nightshade was crying. My heart ached for her. I had a little girl of my own at the time. Pretty, with big brown eyes, and I kept imagining how my own Hopleaf would feel if she'd been diagged away to a strange land, with no family or friends.
"In the corridor that led to Nightshade's room, all the firebowls were out. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face—but I kept marching, pushing on through the blackness to get to her.
"Her door-hanging was swinging when I arrived, as though someone had just entered. A thin line of Ught seeped around the edges, Ughting the floor at my feet."
Little Hyssop's face had slackened in terror. She had begun to wring her hands in her lap.
"I heard Nightshade laugh. A gay sound, as if all her fears had been swept away. When I pulled back the door-hanging and stepped into that firelit room, my heart rose into my throat. I don't know what they were. Huge things, with no arms or legs. They Danced around her bed, their beaks clacking like thunder while they spun and leaped in time to music I couldn't hear."
Primrose dropped the cup, and it smashed on the floor. Green Ash's gaze darted back and forth between her aunt and her brother. Primrose stood rigid, as though the words had torn the threads of his soul.
Checkerberry's mouth hung open for so long a time that a bead of spittle formed at one comer and dribbled down her chin. Big-Nosed Rattler cast a pleading look at Primrose and mouthed, "What's wrong with her?"
Primrose shook his head; Checkerberry blinked herself awake as though returning from a long Soul Voyage.
"I . . .I cried out—in fear, you see. And the dark shadows . . . That pink demon with the twisted face flew at me. He drove me down the hall, clutching at my hair and dress while I screamed my throat raw. The next day, my baby—Hopleaf—^she died. Witched. Witched by Nightshade, because I'd seen the evil Spirits she'd called to keep her company."
Checkerberry lifted her head and stared straight at Green Ash. In the pause. Primrose touched his mouth with quaking fingers. Locust's eyes had narrowed to slits where she peered over the sleeping platform.
"Witched," Checkerberry repeated. "My baby died!"
Green Ash jerked as a warm flood poured from her vagina, soaking her yellow dress. "Oh, Primrose! Help me! I have to get to the birthing women. I think ..."
But when she had stumbled to her feet, she saw that it wasn't water that trickled down her legs, but blood.
A low groan worked its way up Green Ash's throat. "Hurry. The pain. Ah!"
The room whirled around her, but she didn't realize that she had fallen until she heard the children's shrieks and saw Primrose lean over her, his face wild with fear as he called hoarsely for Locust. Primrose slipped his arms beneath Green Ash. In a voice that shook, he said to Locust, "Get old woman Nit. Quickly. She lives near the southern end of the palisades."
Locust sailed out the door, her black hair flying in the sunlight. Green Ash barely realized that she had gone until she heard the scotching of sandals on gravel.
Primrose stroked Green Ash's hair. "It's all right. Everything's going to be fine. Stay calm."