Page 32 of Poltergeists & Change of Life

"Oh, is that all?" I said, my voice dripping with enough sarcasm to fill the Grand Canyon twice over. "Here, I was worried it might be something serious. Clearly, I should be more concerned about whether the nursery is properly baby-proofed against accidental reality warping. Do they make outlet covers for that?" That made everyone chuckle.

"How exactly are we getting to Prague?" Murtagh asked, mercifully changing the subject before I could spiral into a pregnancy-induced panic attack. "And who’s going?"

I grinned, feeling a surge of excitement despite the gravity of our mission. "We can fit eight comfortably in my plane, but I don’t think we take that many. There’s a good chance Lyra will make a move. For all we know Hattie had been systematically weakening the wards since her resurrection."

Aidon raised an eyebrow. "Tseki and Murtagh should stay here if that’s the case.”

I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Layla, Selene. I’d like the two of you to join us.” Both women nodded.

Melinoë grinned. A hint of her usual mischief returned. It was a grin that would have sent lesser beings running for the hills, possibly screaming. "Oh, it'll be fun. Think of it as a magical road trip. With the potential for interdimensional calamity at every turn. We could make t-shirts: 'I saved reality, and all I got was this lousy cosmic key.'"

CHAPTER 14

If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be waddling through Prague at twenty-six weeks pregnant I'd have laughed myself into a coma. We were on a quest to find magical catacombs with my godly husband. His goddess sister, and a ragtag bunch of witches and familiars were also in attendance. Yet here I was, feeling like a bloated, magical penguin on a mission. The cobblestone streets of Prague's Old Town were picturesque and doing my swollen ankles absolutely no favors. Each step sent a jolt of discomfort up my legs, as if I needed reminders that I was housing three very active future world-savers in my uterus.

"Remind me again why we couldn't just, I don't know, Google the entrance to these Clockwork Catacombs?" I grumbled as I rubbed my aching back. "I'm pretty sure 'ancient magical labyrinth' would have some Yelp reviews and helpful tips on how to get inside."

Stella looked over at me and snorted. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, yet she looked about as tired as I felt. "Sure, Pheebs. I'm sure it's right up there with 'Best places to destroy world-ending artifacts' and 'Top ten spots to thwart an evil covenant'."

I groaned, my stomach rumbling loud enough to wake the dead. Which, given our current mission, might not be entirely out of the question. "Speaking of top spots, any chance we could hit up a café? These little magical terrors are demanding sustenance, and mama needs a pastry. Or five."

Aidon, bless his divine heart, wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His touch was warm and comforting, which was a stark contrast to the chill in the air. "I think we can manage that, love. There's a place just around the corner that smells promising."

I nearly wept with joy when we rounded the corner a few seconds later. Halfway down the block was a sugary oasis in a desert of cobblestones and tourists. It was the most adorable café I'd ever laid eyes on. The window display was a work of art. The bakers had filled it with pastries that looked like they'd been touched by the gods. Which, considering our present company, wasn't entirely impossible.

We bustled inside, and the warmth hit us like a wall of comfort. The place was a mishmash of vintage charm and modern hipster chic. I adored the mismatched chairs, exposed brick walls, and plants. There were more inside than the greenhouse back home. The air was thick with the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. My mouth watered instantaneously.

"I think I've died and gone to carb heaven," I moaned, making a beeline for the display case.

A young man with more piercings than a pincushion and a man bun that defied gravity, raised an eyebrow at our motley crew. "What can I get for you?" he asked in accented English.

I pressed my face against the glass like a kid in a candy store. "I'll take one of everything," I said, dead serious.

Aidon chuckled behind me. "Perhaps we should start with one or two things, Queenie. We can always come back."

I shot him a look that should have made him run home crying. "You try growing three beings from scratch, and then tell me about moderation."

Nana cackled from her spot by the window. "That's my girl! When I was carrying your mother, I once ate an entire chocolate cake by myself. Your grandfather learned real quick not to come between a pregnant woman and her cravings."

Aidon threw up his hands. “You’re right. I’m wrong.”

After much deliberation, I settled on a massive apple strudel and a chocolate croissant that was roughly the size of my head. Stella ordered some fancy latte with more syllables than should be legal. Nana surprised us all by confidently ordering atrdelník, a traditional Czech pastry. The chimney-shaped, sugar-coated treat arrived steaming and filled with vanilla ice cream, making me instantly regret not ordering one myself.

Aidon, ever the adventurous one, opted for a thick slice ofmedovník. The Czech honey cake looked like it could put a person into a sugar coma with just one bite. Melinoë, on the other hand, stared at the menu for a solid minute before grudgingly ordering a black coffee, muttering something about too many choices.

We squeezed around a table meant for fewer people. I immediately dove into my strudel with the enthusiasm of a woman who hadn't seen food in days rather than hours. "Oh, sweet baby Jesus," I moaned around a mouthful of flaky, apple-y perfection. "I think this strudel just solved world peace."

Stella snorted into her latte. "Easy there, Pheebs. You're making some interesting noises. I think that guy in the corner is getting ideas."

I glanced over to see a middle-aged man hastily averting his gaze. I shrugged, unashamed. "Let him look. This is a religious experience."

As I demolished my pastries with the single-minded focus of a pregnant woman on a mission, Stella spread out a map of Prague on the table. She somehow managed to avoid the dusting of crumbs I was creating. "Okay," she said, tapping various spots on the map. "We've covered this area and this area. Where haven't we looked yet?"

Nana squinted at the map. "Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. This map is more confusing than a raccoon in a washing machine. You sure this ain't some magical Rorschach test?"

I paused mid-bite, a piece of strudel dangling precariously from my fork. "Nana, it's a map of Prague, not a psychological evaluation. Although," I added as I glanced back at the twisted streets and winding alleys, "maybe the city planners were going through some stuff when they designed this place."

"All I'm saying is," Nana continued, waggling her fork at us, "if this map gets any more complicated, we'll need a degree in quantum physics just to find the bathroom. Now, who's gonna help me figure out where we can store more of these delightful pastries? We need to bring some home to Mollie and Nina and I doubt those delicate boxes will survive magical catacombs."

---