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Twenty.

Himila Weed

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“I can’t believe that cake actually turned out alright. And you were worried Penny wouldn’t shine to you. What a great way to spend the last day of my roaring twenties. Thank you, Peach. Truly.” Von turned off the freeway, a piece of his cake wrapped up in the backseat of the car.

I’d snapped a picture on my phone of Von with a princess crown on and Penny in his lap, the two blowing out his birthday candles on the lopsided cake we’d made him. “Thanks for introducing me to Penny. She’s just as great as you told me she was.”

“Well, she adored you. All your worrying that you wouldn’t know how to be a good mum is overruled now.” He cleared his throat, and I knew he was about to bring up our almost-kiss in the kitchen.

I confiscated the conversation and veered it to a less dangerous topic. “I’m thinking of spending a little time with Boston, just the two of us. He’s been depressed, and I wanted to take him out to cheer him up. We haven’t been to the bar in a while.”

“You and Boston go to pubs together? I can’t picture that.”

It was one of our little rituals we’d swung into the habit of while Von was gone. “We’ve gone a couple times. I’m a pretty good wingman. Girls flock to me to rub my belly, and Boston plays the whole, ‘I’m taking my pregnant sister out before she has her baby’ line. He mentions helping me raise the baby, and they can’t stop themselves. It’s a pretty good system.”

I could tell Von didn’t like the idea of Boston helping to raise his baby, but he tempered his response. “That’s nice of you. Mind if I tag along?”

“Now how am I going to buy you the roller coaster you wanted if you’re right there with us? Where’s the surprise element? Where’s the birthday cheer in that?”

Von forced a grin. “Alright. Clear it with Ezra, and that’s fine by me. Though I prefer my presents giftwrapped, so I’d buy a few dozen rolls of wrapping paper just to be safe. I bet the upside-down loops are absolutely wicked to wrap.”

I all but ran into the house the second Von parked the car in Ezra’s driveway. I knew if I kept spending alone time with Von, I’d kiss him, and I wasn’t ready for the fallout of that. I hid from him in Ezra’s study like a child, reading and translating the newest book from Finn, while I tried to keep my mind from wandering to the passionate fervor in Von’s eyes I couldn’t shake. It was too real. Too convincing.

I lost myself in Finn’s book, but as this pregnancy went, I nodded off two chapters in. Unless I was moving, I was having a hard time staying awake these days. My dream swept me under as I lay curled up in Ezra’s leather armchair, plopping my dream self at the beach. Behind me was a forest of stripped, barren trees. They stood like long, thick pillars stretching toward the sky with no greenery to break up their beige and brown innards, which were exposed from the bark being peeled away. The waves gently lapped at the white sand a safe distance away from where I sat between the naked trees and the ocean. I didn’t much care for the water anymore, even in my dreams. The waves could all too quickly turn into a nightmare, with the Mermen dragging me under to tear at my clothes.

I clutched my shirt to my breast as I sat on the beach, vacillating between fear and peace. It was a safe place to go to puzzle out all that happened between Von and me, Bev dying, Bishop dying, and Finn dangling. I shifted the sand before me, and it started to mold together like lightweight clay, letting me reform it easily into small castles and animals and shapes. It was mindless, letting my brain relax as it created and destroyed, created and destroyed. With every creation, I breathed. With every destruction, I felt the hopeful possibility of something new and refreshing just around the corner, and at my very fingertips. There were no expectations for an entire world’s survival on my shoulders here. There were only waves, only sand, and only me.

“I don’t usually see you this time of day,” came a voice I knew without having to look up.

“Hey, Philip. I didn’t expect to see you here. I was kinda hoping for some alone time.”

Philip paused before taking the spot in the sand next to me, affronted. “Is that any way to talk to the man who’s bringing you a present?”

I looked up, my face stoic when I saw that same black leather hard box, about the size of a shoebox, clutched in his hands. “No, thanks.”

“‘No, thanks?’ You’re saying no to my gift?”

I sighed heavily, reminding myself that I didn’t have to be polite in my own dream. I could take up space in my little imaginary world and not apologize for it. “I know I’m going to sound ungrateful, but I’m not a fan of getting a shriveled weed as a gift. It’s not really a gift, you know. The classics, like chocolates, and flowers that are actually still alive? Those are always a solid win. When in doubt, don’t reach for mulch. You heard it here first.”

His knuckles whitened around the box. “If you had any idea the lengths I went to for this, you wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re pretend. You don’t go to lengths. You’re my subconscious trying to make me feel guilty, and I gotta say, I get enough of that while I’m awake. No, thanks.”

“I’m not pretend. I’m right here.” Philip sat next to me and placed the box in front of my crossed legs in the sand. He palmed my belly without asking permission first, which after the fifty-thousandth time, was starting to get a little irritating.

“Yes, and you can go. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’d love a little personal space. Real life’s getting claustrophobic.”

Philip pulled back. “It’s that half-vamp you have feelings for. I can’t get to you when you love him. I’m glad you seem to have come to your senses.”

“Shut up about Von. This is supposed to be my dream time. Go away.”

“Eat the himila weed, and I’ll leave. It’s been too long since your last one.”

“I’ve got news for you, buddy; I don’t actually need a weed to survive.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His hand migrated to my stomach again, rubbing tenderly as he kissed my shoulder. “The baby needs the himila. She’s part Terrawayan, which means she’s out of her element, Topside as she is. And Omen work is hard on your body. Himila helps strengthen the mother. It thickens the placenta and keeps the baby’s heartbeat steady and healthy. I need both of you to stay alive.” Philip’s palm circled my belly again. “She’ll be a princess above all others, which means she’ll need extra magic to keep her as strong as I need her to be, if she’s to rule with us.”

“Wow, I’m a total megalomaniac in my dreams. Who knew?”

Philip was earnest. “You and September need the himila. I can’t protect her from where I am in Terraway. Meeting you here is the only way I can keep you safe. Omens die in childbirth far more frequently than other women do. Something about the wear and tear on your body from reaping makes the chance your heart will give out during birth that much higher.”

I gaped at him. “Why are you putting that in my head? I’m freaked out enough as it is.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe. You need the himila.”

“How are you keeping me safe? You’re fake!”

Philip glowered at my apparent insult. “Do you know how rare the himila is? Most think it’s a myth! I sent someone to the top of Mount Malubha for this.”

“Yes, you scale all the fake mountains for me,” I simpered. “Well done.”

Philip’s voice lowered to a steady thrum. “You told me the Manas attacked you, so I sent one of my men to take care of them. I made sure Serena could never hurt you again.”

I let my subconscious make up a valiant story of vindication where Philip was the feared king who avenged me. “How’d you find Serena? Ezra looked everywhere. He only found her because she was dead.”

“I had a few moles in her ranks. I’ve got spies everywhere. They know who I am to you, who you are to me. They know it’s my baby you’re carrying, and they’re helping me to protect you. How do you think Ezra really got into the house you were being held in by the Manas? They had charms all around the building, but my spy found a way through. Ezra got you out because I was protecting you and our baby.”

I almost started to believe him, but then deflated. “At least tell me this nonsense with your shirt off. I mean, come on now. If you show up with a dead plant for me to eat, at least give me some eye candy.”

Philip took his shirt off with a devious smile, reaching for mine as well, and casting them together onto the sand behind him. He kissed me, reaching into the box and pulling out the himila. “Eat it, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“What if my fantasy is for you to dress up like a chicken?”

“Whatever you ask. Only eat it first.”

I went to grab the weed from him, but he pressed it to my lips, feeding it to me with too much anticipation. This was too important to him, and I didn’t understand why my brain was so insistent I eat a shriveled green and brown twisted weed. I swallowed it down, and watched as Philip’s nerves decreased while he played with my body. “That’s good. That’ll keep our baby safe until I can come for you.”

“Uh-huh. Time for that chicken suit.”

“I think we both know what you want.” We made ourselves at home in the sand, rolling carefully as we made love to the sound of the gently lapping waves.