Chapter 109 Ginger Tea
Leela wandered into the family kitchen, the sanctuary of the house, rubbing her temples where a tension headache was beginning to throb like a second heartbeat. The smell of lemons and sage hung in the air—a stark, comforting contrast to the smell of dust and old ink in the study.
"Momma Blackwood?" Leela asked softly, her voice raspy. "Do we have anything this pregnant lady can take for a headache? It feels like a drum circle in my skull."
Elana turned from the stove immediately, her face softening the moment she saw the strain around Leela’s eyes.
"Oh, sweetheart," Elana cooed, abandoning her task to pull out a chair. "Sit. Let me get you some ginger tea, dear. It’s better for the baby than pills, and it helps with the stress."
She bustled about, the kettle whistling softly as she poured steaming water over fresh ginger root and a dollop of honey. She placed the mug in front of Leela, her hand lingering on Leela’s shoulder.
"Did the littles go down for a nap easy?" Leela asked, blowing on the steam, needing to hear about normalcy.
"Oh, yes," Elana smiled, a genuine warmth reaching her eyes. "And poor Ginny... she lay down on your bed to pat them and sing to them, and I think she was asleep before they were. She’s curled up right between Caspian and Briar. I threw a blanket over the lot of them."
Leela managed a small, tired smile. "She’s exhausted. We all are."
Elana pulled up a chair and sat across from her, reaching out to cover Leela’s free hand with her own. Her gaze was intense, filled with a fierce, protective love.
"I worry about you two so much," Elana whispered. "You don't only mean the world to my boys, Leela. You mean the world to me and Damon, too. You are the daughters I never had. Seeing you in pain... seeing the weight you are carrying..."
She squeezed Leela’s hand tight.
Leela looked down at the swirling tea leaves, the image of the diagrams flashing in her mind again. She looked up, her green eyes searching Elana’s face.
"Did Fenn show you?" Leela asked quietly. "The books?"
Elana recoiled slightly, shaking her head furiously, her lips pressed into a thin, white line.
"No," Elana said, her voice hard and final. "He offered. I refused."
She stood up, pacing a short circle around the kitchen island before turning back to Leela.
"I have been a Luna for thirty years, Leela," Elana said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "I have seen men die on the field of battle. I have washed the blood of my pack members out of their furs. I have buried friends."
She leaned her hands on the table, leaning in.
"But I do not want to see what my son described was in that book. There are some evils that, once seen, cannot be unseen. And I need to be strong for you. I cannot be strong if I am broken by the image of what that monster did to children."
She brushed a stray hair from Leela’s forehead, her touch gentle but her eyes made of steel.
Leela stared into her tea, the steam rising in a lazy spiral that did nothing to calm the storm in her mind. She wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic mug, but her fingertips still felt cold.
"I wish I had your choice," Leela whispered, her voice cracking. She looked up at Elana, her eyes haunted and rimmed with red. "But it's too late for me, Momma Blackwood. I saw them."
She shuddered, a full-body tremor that rattled the spoon against the saucer.
"I saw the diagrams," Leela confessed, the words spilling out like a poison she had to expel. "I saw the cages. I saw the... the drills."
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images were right there behind her eyelids.
"I can't unsee it, Elana. Every time I close my eyes, I see Caspian on that table. I see Briar in that glass box. It’s burned into me."
Elana’s expression crumbled from fierce protectiveness into profound sorrow. She reached across the table, covering both of Leela’s hands with her own, squeezing tight enough to ground her.
"Oh, my sweet girl," Elana breathed, her voice thick with empathy. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry you have to carry that."
"I have to," Leela said, opening her eyes. The fear was still there, but beneath it, the green fire of her Elemental nature was beginning to harden into something diamond-sharp. "That's why I have to do this ritual. That's why I have to let the land speak through me. Because if I don't... if we let him get away with this..."
She pulled one hand free and rested it on her belly.
"...then those diagrams aren't just history. They're a blueprint for my children's future."
Elana nodded slowly, a tear slipping down her own cheek. She stood up and moved around the table, pulling Leela’s head against her stomach, stroking her hair like she was a child herself.
"Then you carry the knowledge," Elana whispered into her hair. "And we will carry you. We will keep the world away while you do what needs to be done. You fight the monster, Leela. I’ll watch the door."