Chapter 25: Cumulative Score

"Don't stop them!" Lindsay cried. "Just trust me! I can do this."

He watched Carak weave between falling spears at Lindsay's direction. They were at the woods now.

Rivuk landed. They only had seconds. "Here," he slipped a small black object into her pocket. "It's a transmitter. We used to use them ages ago when we were mapping the forest. Attach it to the viewscreen in one of Boz's boxes."

Lindsay took Carak's spear. "Are you ready?" she asked Rivuk.

"Do it." He heard the familiar low whir of the cameras and lunged for the spear.

"Tell Deneta I love her," she said, striking him hard across the head.

His world went black.

He didn't know how long he'd been out when he was woken by his soldiers. "You almost caught them, your grace," the soldier said. "Please accept our deepest apologies for targeting you, we thought you might be helping them until she struck you."

Rivuk rubbed his head as little black orbs whirred about it, recording. "You couldn't have known."

________________________________________

Lindsay and Carak tramped through the forest. "OOOOeeee eeee eeee eeee!" she called into the blackness. "Unh!" she crouched down.

"Are you hurt?" Carak asked.

"No, just contractions. Don't worry, my friend used to get them all the time late in her pregnancy, Bragstonhiggs or something." Now she really wished she'd paid more attention. But she hadn't exactly pictured that she'd have her first baby in a world far away from hospitals... or the internet... or any knowledge about human pregnancies whatsoever.

"I can carry you, if you want."

"I'll be ok. Just a momentary- uragh!" She panted slightly. "Ok, that one hurt. Don't worry, we'll be there soon." She cupped a hand to the side of her mouth and called again. "OOOOEEEE! OOOOEEEE eeee eeee eeee!"

From somewhere off in the distance a call answered back. "OOEE OOEE OOeeeOOO!"

"That's them!" she cried. "OOOOEEEEEEEEEooooo!"

The branches rustled above them and suddenly four Bonat in patrol uniforms fell to the ground, landing lightly at their feet. She recognized the center one immediately.

"Sirix!" she cried.

"You!" he said. His eyes narrowed as he pointed his harpoon at something to her left. The other three did the same.

She turned just in time to see Carak hiss, taking a defensive posture with his jaw open wide and taloned fingers spread.

She didn't hesitate. She jumped in front of Sirix's harpoon. "Sirix, don't! Please! AHHHH!" She crumpled to the ground. Into a puddle. She tried to sit up but crumpled further into a little ball on the warm, wet dirt.

"Lindsay!" Carak cried, rushing to her.

"Carak!" She grabbed him, kissing him on the lips. She heard the gasps of the soldiers behind her, she turned to Sirix, eyes wild, pleading. Pain ripped through her body, she gripped Carak tighter.

Carak wrapped his arm around her and lowered his head, exposing the top of his skull to Sirix. "Strike true, Bonat," he said. "I won't leave her."

Lindsay watched as Sirix hesitated a moment, then lowered his harpoon.

"So, this is the father?" Sirix said.

Lindsay nodded, wincing. She couldn't remember ever having been in this much pain before.

"Of course it'd be the one who nearly clawed my eye out. Stand down, troops. I know it's hard to believe, but this one's a friend." He dropped his harpoon and knelt beside Lindsay and the Child of the Immortal. He brushed his cheek against her sweating, shaking one. "Indsayee, is it the baby?" he whispered.

"It's coming," she moaned. Then she screamed.

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Author's Note:

So the trouble is, it's going to be a while before the next book. I've been working on a project with fanfic author G12G4 which takes place immediately before Lindsay is kidnapped and it's taking longer than anticipated so while the third book in this series, Children of the Immortal, has been started, it's only about a third of the way finished. Since I can't promise anything in the very near future, I'm going to include the first chapter here, so you at least get resolution of the cliffhanger. If you liked this story, please leave a review. The indie book version will be available on Amazon in the near future.

Children of the Immortal

Chapter 1: Exile From the Metropolis

"ARGHaa!" Lindsay cried, gripping her belly. It hurt so much! It was like being torn in two from the inside! She screamed again as it felt like her entire body was cramping in on itself. She could feel her cervix stretching. No! She wasn't ready! She felt a hand in hers and squeezed. She saw Sirix wince.

"Lindsay," Carak said. She could see the panic in his eyes, those great milky white orbs with a ghost of blue floating within them. He brushed the sweat from her brow with the back of his large, taloned hand.

"Carak..." she moaned, trying to reach his face. That hideous face that had become so beautiful to her. She wanted to stroke his cheek, to show him she would be fine. To feel his cool grey flesh, smooth under her hand, to reassure herself she would be ok. "Aaaah!" she cried, her hand clenching to her body instead. He took her clenched hand in his, and pulled her close.

"We need to get her to Donil, now," Sirix said. He sounded so calm, somehow. Even his gold-rimmed indigo eyes did not betray any hint of fear. The Bona Serat Corsar, who'd led the Bonat people through hundreds of battles. Somewhere between warrior king and spiritual leader, in moments like this it was easy to see why they followed him. He brushed his free hand through Lindsay's dark hair, pulling it back from her sweat-slicked face. He pressed his blue, scarred lips to her brow. "Don't worry, my Indsayee, we're taking you home."

Indsayee. The word instantly calmed her. His name for her. She let out a deep sigh, then clenched her teeth as another contraction ripped through her.

"Carak?" Sirix addressed the giant grey mutant holding his wife. "That's your name, isn't it?"

Carak nodded.

"We need to get her back to the camp. It's a long way off, do you think you can carry her?"

"Of course."

"Then let's go."

Lindsay felt herself lifted off the ground, above the heads of the Bonat soldiers. At over seven and a half feet tall, Carak dwarfed those around him. She didn't even have the strength to grip onto him, only to lie there in his powerful arms and focus on each contraction, trusting her body to him as she'd done so many times before. She hadn't meant for the meeting of her first husband and her lover to go this way. Of course, she'd never meant to have her first baby on an alien planet, to an alien father, either.

She could see the flash of the white hair and blue skin of the Bonat soldiers, her soldiers from her army, as they leapt through the trees as nimble as gibbons. Carak sprinted along the ground behind them. It was seventeen miles to the camp, or whatever the Bonat called miles, she couldn't remember through the haze of pain. She could feel the leaves breaking from branches as they lashed Carak's broad body, his large muscles protecting her from all but the errant leaf. And yet, despite his strength his hold on her body was gentle, perfect strength in perfect control, as always. The fully disciplined soldier, even now when she could feel the panic in the sinews of his arms, in the tightness of his abdominal muscles.

Carak and Sirix, and soon Donil. She couldn't be in safer hands. She felt a sense of ease she hadn't since the third prince, Rivuk, took her from her husband and wife almost a year ago. She was going home. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing. They'd take care of the rest.

In the fog of her mind she heard someone shouting.

"Get her on the bed!" She knew that voice. It was Donil! Finally! She wanted to see her, to embrace her, labor or no labor.

Why couldn't she open her eyes?

Why couldn't she move?

She felt cold.

Drained.

Sleepy.

"She's bleeding out!"

Hey Donil, she tried to say. In her nearly conscious mind she was tired and charming, with an exhausted smile. Like a pregnant woman on tv.

"It's the wings! We have to get the baby out!"

"The head's coming out!"

She felt it between her legs. Something large. It didn't really hurt. Nothing really hurt.

"See if you can manually compress the wings."

"It won't fit that way!"

She felt a strange pressure on her belly. Then something pulling. The thing between her legs slid back inside.

From somewhere in the distance something cried.

"It's a boy," Donil said.

So Rivuk had been right. He thought it was a boy.

She wanted to see it, to hold it. But she was so tired.

"Stay with me, Lindsay," Donil said. "You've pulled through worse than this."

Lindsay. It'd taken Donil months of practice to be able to say it. Their language didn't have words that pulled back the sides of their mouths like the name Lindsay did. She'd wanted to surprise Lindsay by saying it.

"He just never leaves her, does he?" She heard a voice that sounded like Sirix, if he were underwater.

She was vaguely aware of being fully enveloped in the warmth of a body.

"No." That was Donil, but with the same weird underwater quality.

"I suppose she chose well."

"But you wish it was you."

"Of course. I just got her back and I can't even hold her!"

There was a loud buzzing in her ears devouring the voices.

"Let them be for-"

She felt Carak's warm skin against hers. She knew it instantly, soft coating hard muscles, all around her. He was gently stroking her arm. She felt a soft sucking on her breast. Peace flowed through her.

She nuzzled into Carak's chest. The sucking had vanished.

"Lindsay?" he said. It sounded so hopeful.

He'd probably been waiting for her to wake up for hours. He was always the early riser. She hated leaving the bed, all soft and warm with him. But Deneta would be up soon. Thank god she took after her father, Rivuk, late to bed and late to rise.

Ugh. Her stomach hurt though, it was like someone had sliced her open and diced her insides. Her brain felt heavy. She pushed herself up and kissed his neck. "Five more minutes, Carak."

"She's awake!" he cried.

What was the big deal about that? Of course she was awake, it was morning, afterall.

She tried to roll over into Carak, but found her hand was caught. She yanked it a few times but something held fast. A hand! Rivuk? No, it was too narrow, and there were... claws...

She turned.

"Sirix," she exclaimed weakly as she saw the blue face, a wide grin stretching his scarred lips, she could see his overly large canine, the width of two human ones at least. His gold rimmed indigo eyes sparkled, almost disguising their exhaustion. When he looked at her like this it was hard to believe he was over ninety years old, he didn't look a day over fifty - but then, Bonat aged slower than humans.

"Good morning, Indsayee," he said.

Suddenly it all flooded back to her, the poison, the escape, the forest... and then it went funny. Her free hand rushed to her belly. It was flattened, the skin loose like someone had let all of the air out of a ball. She looked and saw the healing papers in a line across her belly. "The baby?"

"He's fine," Sirix assured her.

"It's a boy?"

"Yes," Carak said.

She turned to Carak. "Is it... Is it ours? Please tell me it's ours."

Carak pulled her to him and kissed her, thin lips finding her plump ones again and again. That was all the answer she needed. Their baby. What she had hoped for more than anything. She pulled him over her, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Hey! Hey! Husband in the room!" Sirix protested.

Lindsay tore herself from her lover's lips to grin impishly at him. She shouldn't be so mean, but she couldn't help herself. Sirix raised a brow at her. She stuck her tongue out at him. She saw the revenge flash in his eyes. She saw his muscles tense and knew he was fighting the urge to jump into the space between her and Carak and make her pay for her provocations.

"You'll just have to get used to it," Donil said in her soft, sweet voice. "You remember what that prince said about them. To try to separate her from him would only reduce our time with her. And Lindsay, no orgasms for at least the next two days. Your muscles need time to heal. Sirix, don't even think about it."

"Donil, I'm in the hospital after having a baby," Lindsay called out. "I literally just woke up. Give us some credit."

"We're not that quick to jump into bed," Sirix added. "She's still recovering."

Donil stepped into the room. "As I recall a spear hole in your side and a fresh skin graft weren't enough to slow you two. Can you honestly tell me if I left you both alone, I wouldn't come back to find you having sex?"

Lindsay and Sirix looked at each other, grins spread across their faces as their eyes met.

"You could stay and join us," Lindsay said.

Lindsay drank Donil in eagerly. She was as beautiful as when she'd first seen her. Long, feathery, white hair, indigo eyes flecked with gold like the stars had come down from the sky to be a part of her beauty. Her shapely blue body and long legs were just barely covered by a white dress that brushed her knees with two long slits at the sides, showing off those dreamy thighs of hers. The halter of the dress that tied behind her neck, holding up the two white flaps that ran up from the waist and covered her breasts was undone leaving one glorious white nipple exposed, sitting in the pale sea of her blue breast. Lindsay instantly remembered how that tender breast felt in her mouth. Her other breast was covered by a small bundle.

She tilted her head, trying to see what it was. And then she made out its hand. Its pale, peach colored hand.

Instinctively, she reached out. "My baby!"

Donil gently unlatched the baby from her breast and smiled that smile that always took Lindsay's breath away. "Are you ready to meet your son?"

Donil laid the baby in Lindsay's arms. It looked up at her with its bright blue eyes. She gazed in wonder at him, gently stroking his reddish-blond hair with her finger.

"Freckles," she said, a sob choking her. "Like me."

"Yes," Carak said, pulling her close. He brushed a clawed finger so gently across the pale, freckled cheek.

The baby reached out to his father, grabbing his large finger with his tiny hands. Not an ounce of fear shone in his blue eyes.

Blue eyes Lucian would never see.

Blue eyes that would never sit in a jar on Lucian's desk for him to admire.

Blue eyes that she would die to keep from his envious hands.

"He's perfect!" she cried. She felt a strange shifting of her baby's back. She pushed down the blanket to reveal the downy yellow crests of tiny wings. "Wings!"

"Four of them," Carak said. "Enough to fly."

She ran her finger along the soft crests, the baby gurgled. She marvelled at his tiny fingers with their little fingernails. Little half-moons like hers, no claws. "Six fingers?"

"And toes," Donil said. "The Nobillo in him."

"But he looks mostly human," Lindsay said. She laughed. "And he doesn't look like me at all! He must take after his father. And mine, a bit. My dad was a redhead when he was little."

"Probably Carak's human genes were able to assert themselves, given the child is three quarters human," Sirix said.

"Have you named him?" Lindsay asked.

"Not yet, we thought we'd wait until you were conscious," Donil said.

The baby looked back up at her, almost expectantly, as though waiting for her answer.

"He looks like Cedric Diggory from the Harry Potter movies. Can we call him Cedric? I'd like him to be a good guy like that."

"If you like," Carak said.

"At least we can say it without too much trouble," Sirix said.

"What about his middle name?" she pondered aloud.

"Middle name?" Carak asked. Sirix and Donil both looked a bit confused.

"Oh yeah. You all just go by one name. Where I'm from we have three parts to our names. Our first name is the name we usually go by and our middle names... well they're kind of just there, I guess. Like an extra option if you don't like your name or something. And then the last name is your family name. Which, should we do Carak or Weaver? I want to have your name in there somewhere, I want everyone to know he's yours."

He kissed her again, long and loving. Pulling back he gazed into her brown eyes. "What about Rivuk? He's claimed the child as his son."

She thought for a moment. It was true, but she really didn't want to just give him the last name of Rivuk. Not Rivuk alone, anyway. And she didn't want to leave her family name behind for it. Maybe hyphenated...? Rivuk-Weaver? But, then, the Bonat could barely say Weaver as it was. They could say Rivuk. What if they smashed them together like some power-couple, like Reaver or- "River!" she exclaimed. "It's what Rivuk means, right? And it's Rivuk and Weaver put together so he's got a bit of both and it's a kind of normal last name. And then his middle name will be Carak. Cedric Carak Rivers." She looked to Carak and asked, "What do you think?"

In all her time with Carak she'd never seen such an expression on his face before. He looked as though he might burst into tears. Could the Children of the Immortal cry? With their eyelids all puffy and malformed, probably not.

"Is it bad?" she asked, timidly.

"I think it's a good name." Carak said. Something like a sob escaped his lips as he stroked Cedric's tiny head. "I think it's a very good name for our... our son."

She could see his shoulders shaking, his chest rising up and down in ragged breaths, felt him pull her in tighter. "Our son," she repeated, tears stinging her eyes. His emotions were contagious. Looking at him and their child, she'd never felt so in love before. She didn't know her heart was capable of it. Like she could die of it.

"We should probably leave them alone," Donil said, taking Sirix by the elbow and pulling him towards the door.