Page 41 of Pregnancy Pains & Mystic Chains
"We can't risk you depleting yourself completely," Clio added as more of her healing energy swept through me. "The magical drain could trigger early labor."
I wanted to argue, but the room chose that moment to tilt alarmingly. Aidon's quick reflexes kept me from face-planting into the kitchen island. His arms were steady around me as black spots danced at the edges of my vision.
"Fine," I conceded as he scooped me up. "But I want my laptop and phone. And frequent updates from everyone. We can't afford to miss anything with the Keepers still out there."
"No more than hourly updates," Clio countered as she followed us toward the stairs. "You need actual rest, not just horizontal worrying. And no magical working whatsoever."
I grimaced when I heard the edict. Magic was second nature to me now. I didn’t know if I could keep from using it. "What about?—"
"None," she emphasized. "Not even small spells. Your energy needs to go to the babies right now."
The trek upstairs felt like climbing Everest, even with Aidon supporting me. By the time he settled me into bed, exhaustion pressed against me like a physical weight. Clearly unhappy with my depleted state, the babies stirred restlessly. Their movements triggered little pulses from the mark that felt weaker than usual.
"I know, I know," I muttered, rubbing my swollen belly. "Mama needs to take better care of herself. But in my defense, your aunt-grandmother started it. Who shows up uninvited and threatens a pregnant woman?"
Aidon's lips twitched as he tucked the blankets around me. "Only our children could make family reunions even more complicated. Though I have to admit, seeing Demeter's face when they nullified her power was worth it."
"I could have done without the magical exhaustion aftermath," I grumbled. The babies had used too much to make that happen and had taken it from me.
A tremendous crash from downstairs made us both tense. Selene's voice carried up the stairs. "Don't panic! Just a small magical mishap with the protection spell! Everything's totally under control!" Another crash followed. That one was accompanied by what sounded suspiciously like screaming garden gnomes.
"Um, quick question," Nina called out. "Is the kitchen table supposed to be floating? And spinning? Because it's definitely doing both right now."
"That's not the table anymore," Stella responded grimly. "I’m pretty sure it's transformed into some kind of magical vortex. And... yep, it's definitely eating the curtains."
"Somebody grab Binx before he gets sucked in!" Mom shouted. "And whatever you do, don't let that vortex touch any of Mythia's cupcakes! Remember what happened last time Phoebe woke up without a snack?"
"We promised never to speak of that ugly scene again," Nana reminded her, shuddering at the memory of shattered teacups and upturned furniture. "Though I must say, I've never seen anyone turn quite that particular shade of purple before. We should focus on catching that cat of yours before he decides to take an interdimensional vacation."
Something that sounded suspiciously like a small explosion punctuated her words. It was followed by the distinct smell of burnt cinnamon and ozone drifting up the stairs. "I should—" I started to turn around, but Aidon's hand on my shoulder kept me in place.
"You should rest," he said firmly. "The others can handle whatever that was."
As if to prove him wrong, Nina's yelp was followed by Stella's creative cursing. "Son of a biscuit-eating unicorn's left testicle!" she shouted. "Since when does a basic protection spell create spontaneous portals?"
"Since when do you know that much about unicorn anatomy?" Nina called back.
"Go," I sighed when Aidon's conflict became obvious. He wanted to go help, but he didn’t want me following. "Before they accidentally turn the kitchen into a permanent gateway to another dimension." I paused as a thought hit me.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead before disappearing downstairs. I laid down so I could rest and listened to the rapid-fire discussion that followed. "It's like trying to mix oil and water," Stella was saying. "The normal magical framework just doesn't want to play nice with whatever power the babies and that mark are putting out."
"Maybe if we adjusted the runic sequence," Mom suggested. "And add some stabilizing elements?"
"Or maybe," Nana interjected dryly, "we should stop experimenting with volatile magic in the kitchen. Mollie just replaced those curtains after Nina caught them on fire."
My phone buzzed with an incoming text from Jean-Marc. "Big breakthrough in the research. The Keepers aren't one unified group. There are three distinct factions. Call when you can talk. Like, now. Seriously, Mom, this is huge."
I hit dial before I could think better of it. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, bud. What did you discover?”
"Mom, this changes everything," he replied excitedly. "I've been cross-referencing Dr. Harrison's records with what we found in that temple. The Keepers split centuries ago over how to handle magical bloodlines."
"What do you mean?" I shifted against my pillows, trying to find a comfortable position as the babies started their afternoon acrobatics.It’s nap time, nuggets. Mama needs to rest.
"There are three distinct factions," Jean-Marc explained. Papers rustled in the background. "The destroyers are the most extreme. They want to eliminate any pregnancy that might threaten their power structure. They're behind most of the miscarriages Sarah's network has been tracking."
My free hand went protectively to my belly. "Charming bunch."
"Then there are the controllers," he continued. "They're the ones who've been systematically binding magical bloodlines. They believe they can harness and direct how power manifests through careful breeding programs and magical suppression."
