Issue #27 RRP $8.95 Rory Douglas Abel Aliette ... - Upgrade Systems

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Eilis Arwen O'Neal
He had started to reach for Hyacinth, but I got there first. Pulling him into my
arms, I cried, “When? When are we going to have a baby? We’ve been trying for so
long and it’s not working! This might be the only baby we ever get.”
“We’ll have a baby,” he replied doggedly. “Our own baby. A—”
“A fey baby,” I finished for him. “But what if we didn’t? Did you ever think of that?
What if we had a human baby? Would you want to give that one away, too?”
Hyacinth woke with a start and immediately began crying.
“Gwen,” Sylvan said over the wailing. “We’re taking the baby to Children’s
Services. I’m not going to discuss this anymore.”
He had actually taken a step to the door, so sure that I would follow him, when I
heard someone say, “No.” It was a moment before I realized it was me.
“Guinevere,” Sylvan said.
Hyacinth hiccuped and stopped crying, pressing his face into my neck. His hot
tears burned my neck like tiny flames. “I’m not giving him up,” I said. “I don’t care
what you say.”
Magic flared around us. Wind howled through the house and a gnawing cold
assailed the room. Sylvan had disappeared, the diaper bag thumping to the ground
where he had stood. Scooping it over my shoulder, I ran into the bedroom and ripped
open my top dresser drawer. With my one free hand I reached into the back left corner
and spoke the charm cued to my voice. A wallet popped into existence. Grabbing it,
I shoved it into the bag and raced into the entry hall.
Sylvan was waiting for me. He had let the trappings of humanity, the glamor that
keeps humans from going a little mad when they see the Folk, drop. His suit was
gone, replaced with dark robes and a cape of smoke. His hair, normally short and
clean-cut, brushed his shoulders in wild, snake-like locks. I had to squint to look at
him. He was more beautiful than anything I had ever seen.
“Give the baby to me,” he said.
I know a compulsion spell when I hear one. They’re illegal for anyone but a cop,
though that didn’t stop Sylvan. But even knowing what was going on, I found myself
holding Hyacinth out. Sylvan stepped forward, and his features softened, reverted to
the face I knew. “Gwen, I—” he said in his normal voice.
The spell loosened in that second and I snatched Hyacinth back towards myself.
“Get out of the way, Sylvan,” I yelled. “I’m leaving—”
I didn’t finish the sentence. In the same instant, Hyacinth was magically ripped
from my arms and I flew backwards into the wall. The breath knocked out of me, I
felt my head slam against something sharp, heard the crack of breaking glass. As I
crumpled to the floor, I could feel something wet dripping down the back of my head,
and when I touched my fingers there they came away red.
Sylvan set Hyacinth down on the floor and rushed towards me. The glamor was
gone; he looked the way he had when I married him: beautiful and fey, but like something
real, something you could touch. “Gwen, I’m sorry,” he said as he cradled me
against him. “I didn’t mean to.”
The pain was making my vision blur and my ears buzzed shrilly. I tried to say
Hyacinth, but was brought up short by a soft bump on my hand. Slowly, I opened my