Shadow Heir

I might almost have believed her if I hadn’t discovered a book on “baby essentials” lying around their house, with a shopping list in Candace’s handwriting tucked inside. Most items—and there were a lot more than “a few”—had had “x 2” written next to them, which didn’t reassure me any.

“It’s too much,” I argued. “You guys can’t afford—”

“You have no idea what we can or can’t afford,” she scolded. “You just take care of whatever it is you need to and get back to them. We’ll worry about those little ones. You don’t have to.”

It was impossible not to worry about them, though. No matter how often I told myself that the twins were out of immediate danger and simply had to fulfill their NICU time, I couldn’t help but fear maybe a doctor had missed something. Likewise, although I never doubted the Reeds’ love and devotion, I kept imagining worst-case scenarios. Candace had a dangerous job, after all. What if something happened to her? Would Charles be able to care for them on his own? Would he and Evan have to move in together to take care of the twins, like in some wacky sitcom?

These imaginings delayed me day after day until, one afternoon, Roland called me into Candace’s home office. He’d been checking his e-mail on her computer and beckoned me over to his side. “Look at this,” he said, flipping to a news website.

I leaned over his shoulder and felt my heart sink. “Oh Lord,” I muttered. The story was about a group of “hooligans” who had raided and robbed an outdoor farmers market in Phoenix—on horseback. Reports and witnesses were as sketchy as the Tucson theft had been on TV, but there was no doubt in my mind that this had been Otherworldly in origin. The nature of the farmers market had probably made it easier for them. Food, pure and simple, with easy accessibility. “I don’t suppose they rode their horses from Tucson to Phoenix?”

“Unlikely,” Roland said, leaning back in the chair with a sigh. “Especially since people report that they seemed to have ‘vanished.’ My guess is they’re just using a new gate. I know a couple up in that area.”

I nodded along, trying to merge my mental maps of this world and the Otherworld. “There’s a Phoenix one in the Willow Land. If hostilities really have been lifted, then Maiwenn would probably let Pagiel use it.” I sat down cross-legged on the floor, feeling a quick spark of pride at how quickly I was regaining my flexibility. “I wonder if we should be relieved Tucson isn’t the sole target—or worry that Pagiel’s spreading out to other gates and other cities.”

“We should be concerned that these raids are still going on, period. If you still think you’re up for leaving, we should probably do it soon.” His tone was hard, all-business, but I saw compassion in his eyes.

“I’m still up for it,” I said sadly. “Everything’s in place. If you can book us a flight for tomorrow, I’ll be ready to go.” Every word of that was true, but the finality of it was a hard thing to accept.

Roland made it happen. Candace and Charles sent us off with a huge farewell dinner of chicken and dumplings, though for once, the focus was less on the food and more on tying up all the loose ends and red tape with Isaac and Ivy. The morning of our flight, Roland and I left extra early so that we could make one more visit to the hospital. I don’t know if my timing was just lucky or if the staff felt sorry for me, but the nurse declared we’d reached a point where it would be okay for us to hold the twins.

I could scarcely dare to believe my good fortune. The ventilators were off, but there were still lots of cords and tubes to contend with, making everything a delicate balancing act. Roland and I were each given a twin, and after a little while, we switched. Looking down at Isaac, I felt my breath catch. Although still definitely a preemie, he’d put on weight and looked much more “babylike” than he had at birth. Now that they were both a little more developed, I was more confident than ever that they’d taken after me and not Kiyo. It was just as well since they had my last name and would never have any contact with him.

Isaac slept the entire time I held him, making the small movements and coos that infants do in their sleep. He seemed very content, and I again wondered if he was aware of my presence in any way. Maybe that had been naïve of me to imagine when I was on the other side of the glass, but now, in my arms, he must surely feel some sort of subconscious connection ... right?