Holy Water

"Yes, Mama," Maggie said, maneuvering her increasing bulk into the car. "We've heard your opinion on this before. In fact," she continued, as Carl pulled away from the curb, leaving their house behind, "we've heard it at least once a week for the past five months. We even heard it when we were driving to the church for the wedding." She turned in her seat and glared at her mother. "Maybe it's time we stopped hearing it."

Edith closed her mouth with a snap.

Maybe I'm wrong, she thought. If even sweet-tempered Maggie is cross with me, then maybe it is time to accept it.

But it's not right, a tiny, hateful part of her wailed. She's not a real person! She's not even human! I don't care how happy she makes Charlie. What will their children be like? It's not natural!

Then shut your mouth, fool woman, her mind replied. If you can't say anything nice about your daughter-in-law, don't say anything at all.

While she wrestled with her conscience they arrived at the farmhouse. A heavenly aroma greeted them as they walked through the front door, leaving the chill autumn air behind.

"Hello, Lilaea," Maggie said happily, waddling to greet her sister-in-law. The two women, by now firm friends, embraced. "Look at you!" Maggie exclaimed. "You're getting bigger every time I see you."

Lily laughed happily. "I could say the same about you," she teased. "But I'm told it comes with the territory. Though why human women put up with such an arrangement is beyond me. You would think there would be an easier way of doing things." Despite her words, she bore her increasing girth proudly.

"So when are you due again?" Carl asked. "Sometime in the spring, right?"

Lily nodded, her hand stealing over her shoulder to hold Charlie's, standing proudly behind her. "In April. Our daughter will be born as the world thaws, and the rivers run full with snowmelt." She turned to pull a tray out of the oven. A roast, surrounded by carrots and potatoes and swimming in rich gravy, rested in the pan.

"That smells wonderful," Carl said appreciatively.

Charlie dropped an affectionate kiss on the back of Lily's neck. "What can I say? She's a better cook than I could ever hope to be. I think she's got a touch of magic about her." He grinned as Lily pretended to swat him with an oven mitt.

In a short time they were all gathered around the table again. After the blessing, Charlie carved the roast from his seat at the head of the table and passed plates along as they were filled.

Edith watched Lily from under her lashes. Tonight she wore a dress which seemed to be made up of autumn leaves. Copper, orange, bronze, scarlet, and yellow, it did not try to hide her pregnancy. Instead, it shouted it with joyful exuberance.

She cleared her throat and all eyes swung to her.

"I have been wondering, Lily," she said, her voice sounding small and old in the sudden silence. "You tell us you are a river spirit, even though you have married my son and are bearing his child. My grandchild. And that you have lived here for centuries. What will happen to you? And to your river?"

Lily and Charles exchanged a sober glance. Lily's hand, one finger circled by a thin band of gold, reached out to clasp that of her husband.

"It is a good question," she said quietly. She bowed her head to Edith in respect. "The truth is, we are not certain. We so seldom mingle our lives with those of mortal men that those rare occurrences are almost something out of legend.

"As you know, I bear Charles' child. And I will bear him several others, if the Great River is kind to us. It is possible," she continued, "not certain, but possible, that one of my daughters will hear the call of the river in her blood. If that happens, I will take her there and teach her what she needs to know. When her time comes, she will become the new guardian of the river, and my duty will end."

"And if one of your daughters does not?" Carl asked softly.

Lily bowed her head. "The river may have to live without a guardian for a time, until one is born who can take my place. If such is the case, we must trust to the wisdom of men to protect her."

"But what about you?" Edith demanded. Even in her own ears, her voice sounded harsh, like an old crow.

"I have bound my life to Charles," she whispered. Tears gleamed in her eyes. At her side, Charlie's face was a pale mask. "There is no going back for me now. As he ages, so will I. And we will both pass through the dark door into death. And, hopefully, to what waits beyond."

Edith swallowed, disbelieving. "You gave up immortality for my son? For Charlie?"

"I made my choice," Lily said with calm and immense dignity. "I would rather spend one lifetime with him, then live through all the coming ages of this world alone."

With those words, Edith broke at last. She stumbled to her feet, weeping, and crouching at Lily's side, embraced her, her gray head touching Lily's raven locks.

The sound of breaking glass shattered the tableau. Four heads whipped around to stare at Maggie. Pale as a wax doll, she sat motionless in her chair. One hand was resting on the swell of her belly.

"I'm sorry," she said in a thin, frightened voice. "But..."

"The child is coming," Lily said calmly. "We must aid her."

Edith snapped to her feet. In seconds she was at Maggie's side, helping her rise from her chair. "Charles. Help me get her to the guest bedroom, then call Doctor Higgins. You. Lily." Her eyes flashed. "Put water on to boil, then get me some clean towels."

"What can I do?" Carl asked plaintively.

A tiny thread of awful humor flickered in Edith's eyes. "I'd say you've done enough already, boy."

"I don't see why you're all making such a fuss," Maggie said as she shuffled towards the hall, leaning heavily on her brother. "My grandfather was born in a covered wagon."

"I remember," said Lily. "I was there."

Maggie gave a half-hysterical giggle, but allowed herself to be guided to the guest bedroom.

Charlie set the telephone back down in its cradle, suppressing an urge to scream.

"Well?" asked Carl.

"Not at home. Or at his office. Nurse Beecham says he is out on a call. Some damn fool got shot out deer hunting. Daisy at the switchboard has no idea where he is. They both promised to send him out here as soon as they see him."

Carl swallowed and raised his head bravely. "No matter. What your mama doesn't know about babies isn't worth knowing."

From down the hallway came a strangled moan, full of pain.

Four hours later, Edith staggered into the kitchen. Her neat bun was askew, trailing strands of hair across her mottled cheeks. Knowing better to ask questions, Charlie handed her a clean towel. She cleaned her hands, her eyes haunted.

"Edith?" Carl whispered. "What's wrong?"

She swallowed and turned her head, and Carl flinched back from the helpless fury in her eyes. "The baby is laid wrong. It wants to come out feet first."

Lily glanced at the three of them in incomprehension. "Is that a problem?"

Charlie held her hand and nodded. "If the baby is laid the wrong way, it could hurt Maggie when it is born. Maybe kill her. Or the baby could be hurt. It's very serious."

Lily huffed out a disgusted breath. "It seems a very silly way to get new children into the world. When are you going to turn the baby around?"

"Don't you think I've tried, child?" Edith's voice was raw with impotent anger. "I've had my hand up there, but there's no room. If I didn't think I'd kill her with the shock, I'd try a Ceasarian section. But I'm not going to hack at my child with a bloody damn butcher knife. Where is that God-damned doctor?" she raged. "I am going to lose my daughter and grandchild in the same night!"

"Let me help," Lily said.

"You? You don't know a thing about childbirth. What the hell can you do?"

Lily pushed back the sleeve of her dress. In the wavering lamplight, they could see her arm shimmer and turn liquid, dividing into multiple strands, then become whole again.

"I can turn the baby," she said with a gentle smile.

Lily followed Edith into the guest bedroom. Maggie lay on the bed, her face streaked with sweat. Her face was hollow with weariness. Her dress was pushed up over her waist, exposing her swollen stomach, pulsing as contractions hit.

"Margaret," said her mother. "Lily is here. She thinks she can help you."

"Hello, Margaret," Lily said. She knelt at Maggie's side and rested a hand on her belly. After a moment she looked up at Edith. "You were right," she said. "Margaret's baby is making things difficult. Naughty child," she scolded, and even in her labor, Maggie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"Maggie," Lily continued, "You know what I am. And a little of what I can do. I swear to you on the life of my own child that I will not harm you or your baby."

She held her arm so Maggie could see, and her eyes widened as Lily's arm shimmered in rainbow hues, bending at impossible angles.

"I am going to put my hand inside you and fill your womb with water. That will make it easier for me to turn your stubborn little daughter so her head is the right way round. Once that is done, the rest should be easy. I think."

"A daughter?" said Edith. "How can you possibly know that?"

Lily turned a calm face to her mother-in-law. "How can you possibly not? Look at her. It is written in her very bones.

"Enough," she said. "I need to work."

"What should I do?" Maggie asked in a cracked whisper.

"Just relax," Lily said. "Breathe deep for me. Yes, that's it," she went on, stroking her sister-in-law's forehead as Maggie's flushed face slowly calmed. With a thought, she willed her being into change and slipped inside her friend.

"Well," Maggie said in a strange voice. "Doesn't that feel odd."

Lily ignored her, concentrating on the child. She surrounded her with warm water, a gentle cushion. That's it, yes. Blood of my blood. Daughter of own dearest love's sister. Maggie's belly swelled slightly. Turn now, child. Turn for your mother.

Slowly, how slowly, she wrought the change, making sure she did not damage Margaret's womb or the child within her. The tiny arms flexed in invisible fingers as the feet were moved back, the head brought lower. Edith gasped as she saw her flesh ripple, the only outward sign of the shift.

Now, she thought, be born, child. A wide green world is waiting for you.

"Your daughter is turned, Margaret," she said softly. "You can push now."

Eyes wide with wonder, Maggie strained. Gently, Lily eased her passage, guiding the small body. On the other side of the bed, she glimpsed Edith kneeling, a towel ready in her hands.

"She's crowning, Margaret," she said, as a patch of black hair appeared.

Another push, and the head was free. A second, and the shoulders were through. A third, and a live, squirming red-streaked bundle was born. A second's pause, then a wail of angry protest filled the room.

With swift, sure motions, Edith cleaned the baby girl, then set her in her mother's arms. Maggie cradled her daughter and guided her to her breast, giving the child her first meal.

Lily levered herself to her feet, swaying with weariness. With a thought, she made her arm flesh again. She was turning to the door when she was caught in a fierce embrace.

"I was wrong about you," Edith Schuler whispered. "I said you weren't human. I was wrong. So wrong. Will you forgive me?"

Lily nodded, her eyes wet with unshed tears. Edith frowned at the door, then strode across the room to jerk it open. Charlie and Carl nearly fell inside.

"Men," Edith snorted. "Say hello to your daughter, Carl."

Carl limped across the room and fell into the chair at Maggie's side. With trembling hands he folded back the towel so he could see his daughter's face. "She's beautiful," he whispered.

"I know," she said complacently, a proud craftsman showing off her labor.

"Have you decided on a name?" Charlie asked. He stood by Lily, their fingers entwined.

"If she had been a he, we would have named him Martin, in honor of my grandfather," Carl said. "Since it's a girl, we're going to name her-"

"Crystal," Maggie said firmly. She looked around the small room, filled with her family. "Her name is Crystal Edith Robinson. In honor of the two women who brought her into the world."

The End