Page 18 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues
A knock at the door made me jump. That accelerated the whirling mess. Nana poked her head in and barely ducked as my lamp made a particularly enthusiastic circuit.
"Having a little trouble with gravity, sweetheart?" she asked dryly.
"Just a slight difference of opinion with physics," I replied through gritted teeth. "Nothing to worry about."
"Of course not." Nana sauntered in, expertly dodging the flying objects as if she dealt with this kind of chaos every day. "And I suppose the toaster dancing the mambo in the kitchen and the television cycling through channels are nothing to worry about, either."
I winced. "The babies' magic is leaking out. I can't seem to contain it."
"Contain it?" Nana barked out a laugh. "Honey, you're trying to put a hurricane in a sandwich bag. Those three are feeding off each other and your emotions." She perched on the edge of my bed. She was remarkably unconcerned about the hairbrush that nearly took her eye out. "And from what I'm seeing, they're getting stronger by the hour."
I sighed, focusing on the slow, deep breathing Clio had taught me. Gradually, the orbiting items slowed their rotation. A few smaller objects—pens, my hairbrush, my phone—dropped gently back to their places. The larger ones remained stubbornly airborne.
"That's something, at least," Nana observed.
"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "If I can't even control this, how am I going to handle it when they're actually born?"
"Who says you need to control it? Control is overrated." Nana waved a dismissive hand.
I glared at her. "Tell that to the lamp that's about to crash into the mirror."
Nana snorted and shook her head. "You're thinking about this all wrong. Instead of fighting their magic, work with it. They're showing you what they can do. They’re testing their powers and reaching out to you. Respond."
I sucked in a deep breath. "And how exactly do I do that? I can’t use magic right now."
"Hell if I know. I'm ninety years old and have lived as a human most of that time. You're the magical mama with three supernatural powerhouses playing bumper cars in your uterus."
Despite my frustration, I laughed. Then screamed as everything in the room—including my bed with me in it—suddenly rose six inches off the floor.
"Well now," Nana said, looking around appreciatively as she floated besideme. "This is new."
"This is bad," I countered, clutching the sheets as if they could anchor me to the ground. "Really bad."
Aidon froze mid-stride when he entered a second later. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. "Phoebe?"
"I'd say this isn't what it looks like, but it's exactly what it looks like," I said with forced calm. "Your children have decided gravity is optional."
Aidon approached cautiously. His shadows reached out, tentatively brushing against the swirl of magic that permeated the room. "Their power is extraordinary," he murmured. "I've never felt anything like it."
"That's great," I said sarcastically. "Very helpful. Now, can you please get my bed back on the floor before I go into premature labor from stress?"
His power expanded and wrapped around my bed in a gentle cradle. The floating furniture began to descend, and I felt the mattress settle back onto its frame with a soft thump. The remaining orbiting objects gently returned to their places as Aidon's magic soothed the wild energy.
I slumped back against my pillows, exhausted. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Aidon said, his expression troubled. "I just gave them a nudge in the right direction. Luckily, the babies responded to my power."
"They like their daddy," Nana said with a chuckle. "Can't say I blame them."
The sound of footsteps announced Jean-Marc's arrival. He stood in the doorway, clutching a leather-bound book and looking like he hadn't slept in days, which he hadn't. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "The entire house was vibrating a minute ago."
"Just your mother and siblings redecorating," Nana quipped as she stood up. "I'm going to make tea. I have a feeling we're going to need it."
After she left, Jean-Marc approached. "I've been researching cases of multiple magical pregnancies," he said, setting the book on my nightstand. "They're incredibly rare, but there are historical precedents."
"Tell me what you need to say," I urged, noticing the hesitation in his voice.
He opened the book to a marked page. "Most recorded cases involve twins, not triplets. But even then, there is a pattern. Multiple magical babies in the same womb create a kind of resonance effect. Their individual powers amplify each other."
