Accidental Surrogate

“Ella, you can’t just demand But I glare at Sinclair, slicing my hand through the air and shaking my head as I realize that he can’t hear what I’m hearing.

And the first thing that comes to my ears… Is a laugh.

“All right, little daughter,” a soft voice says, and I instantly recognize it as my mother. “I stopped there for a reason, but if you get out of my pool, I’ll give you one more.” I narrow my eyes at the moon but do as the Goddess bids, stepping out of the pool.

“I ended there because I do not know the outcome,” she says, her voice sorrowful. “His mission will be…his own. But, I do know this…” And I reach out and put a hand on Sinclair’s arm, very tense. I gasp a little as a new vision forms very fleeting, very brief – But in it, Jesse is an old, old man wrinkles crinkle around his eyes as he smiles down at a child in his arms His grandchild, or maybe his great- grandchild or maybe not a child of his blood at all, but certainly one he loves very, very much – It’s gone as soon as it comes, but it’s enough.

Jesse – he lives. And it’s enough.

“”Thank you,” I breathe, my eyes turned up now towards the sky, the tension falling from my shoulders. ” Thank you.” “Trust them,” the Goddess says, her words even fainter now than they were before. “Even if you don’t trust this world, or me, trust them.” And I nod, understanding, committing to it.

And suddenly, whatever magic was here lifts, and she’s gone.

the pool fades until it’s just…a lake, or a

staring down at me with wide

I ask, desperate to

too scared of her for blasphemy. “Well, that hardly seems fair,” he murmurs. ” Why do you get extra visions?” “Well, you,” I say, pointing down at his shoes, “have warm dry feet. So. Fair trade.” He laughs at me almost despite himself, shaking his head as he wraps Jesse up tightly in his blanket. The baby’s face is peaceful now, his eyes starting to drift shut. “Leave it to you, trouble,” he murmurs, “to bully the Goddess into showing you extra magical visions.” “I’m his godmother,” I say, grinning and taking the baby from Sinclair’s arms when he offers him to me, probably knowing that I’m upset and want to hold the baby close.

get you into some warm socks.” About an hour later, Sinclair makes good on his promise and comes out of Cora and Roger’s closet, tossing a pair of fluffy socks

shoes, and Sinclair’s pale face when we came out

settled in the house with food and drink so Jesse’s celebration could continue, but I could tell: the entire time,

he’s doing a bit better

right, Cora,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulders. ” They wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true.” He looks between us now, a desperate hope in his

Sinclair

shaking with her anxiety now as I finish pulling the warm socks over my feet. “Spill! Please!” “Cora,” I murmur, reaching for her, and my sister lets me pull her down onto the bed. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and she bursts into tears. “No, Cora, really – it’s