Accidental Surrogate

The Goddess’ Light Ella The pool we approach is wide and expansive – more of a large pond, or even a lake, really, shining below the open sky. I tilt my head curiously at I look at it, remembering Cora describing the pool as small and well tucked away in the forest. This one… Well. Maybe it’s different every time, for every child, every pair of godparents. I look up at the moon and smile, thinking fondly of my mother and all the blessings she’s given us. And also how she can sometimes be…a little bit tricky.

“Ready?” Sinclair murmurs.

“Almost,” I quip, stepping close to him and lifting myself up on my toes, tilting my chin up for a kiss. He smiles and bends his head, pressing his mouth briefly to mine.

“Ready now,” I say, grinning at him.

Sinclair takes a moment to look at me in the moonlight, running a hand over the length of my lose hair, and then we step forward to the edge of the pool.

“Goddess,” he murmurs, not bothering to raise his voice – he knows she can hear him. “We bring to you, tonight, this child our nephew Jesse. So that he may begin to know you.” “We wish to show him your light,” I say, repeating the words that Henry taught me as part of the ritual, a little shiver running down my spine as I do. ” And in doing so, let you see him and bring him into the spirit of your grace.” I smile as the light reflecting off the pool grows brighter, insubstantially at first but bolder as the moments pass. Mom – she’s here, and she’s ready to meet Jesse.

go, baby,” Sinclair murmurs, holding Jesse out so that I can reach over and quickly untuck his swaddling. Then, with the baby safe in my mate’s broad hands, Sinclair and I

at the sky

the baby too, his first nephew, the child of his brother and best friend. “His parents, Cora and Roger, have asked us to bring him here to dedicate him to you. We do so in their name.” I grin, tucking myself close to my mate’s side, a thrill running through me. How many babies have been dedicated to the Goddess

gaze at the baby something begins to stir

my eyes going wide. And then I take a deep breath, and am swept away in the vision that my mother gives us, the hint

full of laughter and pranks. And by his side at almost every moment is another little boy – dark haired, always a little taller, always laughing and shouting at his cousin’s side. Rafe – Rafe! Happy,

to grab each moment of the vision, to study them each independently, to get the details in full But tears slip down my cheeks as I give in to the experience, knowing that this – like life – will fly by, and if I spend my time trying to hold onto the pieces I’ll miss

when I start to realize that next to Jesse and Rafe, in every vision as they grow older, there’s a little

the pillows of a couch, fully exhausted with their arms and legs thrown over each other like exhausted puppies, sleeping wherever they landed And though there’s no real proof of it, I know

three – they’re older now, much older, in their early twenties, all dressed in black and gathered around a fire somewhere, in a room with stone walls that looks out over a dark landscape. They’re chatting and laughing, their cheeks ruddy and healthy, tired but happy. Jesse – he’s so tall and he looks just like Roger, with Cora’s warm brown eyes. He laughs easily, tossing