EPILOGUE
T AMAR
Three Years Later.
Everyone warned me that childbirth would hurt. They also told me that it was worth it. They were right about both. At least it stopped hurting as soon as the baby was out. “It’s a fine, healthy girl,” Maydan said. “Shall I send in the anxious people waiting outside?”
I settled back against the pillows and rested the baby against my thighs, looking at her. Her dark hair was sparse and wispy, and softer than fur against my fingertips. I touched her hands and feet. She curled her little fingers around my big one. I’d seen plenty of newborns, but most of them were red and puckered and funny looking. I’d been prepared to have an ugly newborn—most babies did seem to get better looking as they grew—but to my pleasure and surprise, mine was beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. She had dark, clear eyes and stared at me like she was trying to learn my face by heart.
Maydan cleared her throat to let me know Alibek had come in, Lauria and Zivar at his heels. I let Alibek take her for a moment. “Touch her hand, she’ll hold your finger,” I said to Lauria. “Maybe we’ll let you hold her tomorrow.”
“Hello, beautiful,” Lauria said to her. “You look just like your mother. Come look at her, Zivar.”
“I make babies cry,” Zivar said.
“She won’t cry. Just come look at her.”
The baby was starting to squirm and look around, opening and shutting her mouth like she was trying to find something with it. “She wants her mother,” Maydan said, and helped me settle her at my breast.
Nearly everyone in the clan came in to admire her the following day, from Prax to Zhanna to Zarina, her own toddler resting on her hip. Jaran kissed her soft head and predicted that she’d be a shaman, though the Fair One had returned home and he admitted that this was a wish, not a prophecy. Xanthe visited a few days later and presented us with a gift of apples her clan had gotten from a passing trader. It was a generous gift. The valley was so fertile we had yet to find anything that wouldn’t grow, but there weren’t very many trees yet.
We named the baby on the tenth day after she was born. I dressed her in her prettiest clothes, and we stood up before the fire, in front of the clan. Alibek formally claimed her as his child, not that there was any doubt. Zhanna invoked Prometheus’s and Arachne’s blessings, and someone swore they saw a spider scurrying past in the dark, a sign of good luck.
When it was time to announce the name of the baby, I took a deep breath. The people in our clan were mostly former slaves, and many of us had Greek names. Still, to give an Alashi baby a Greek name was unusual. But I’d known for a long time the name I wanted to give my daughter, if I ever had one.
“Andromeda,” I said, when Zhanna asked me the name of the baby.
“Andromeda,” Alibek agreed.
I glanced at Lauria. She was flushed red, and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, trying to hide her tears.
We each kissed the baby and sat down for the feast. “Andromeda?” Zarina asked. She’d never known Lauria’s mother. “Is that an Alashi name?”
I glanced at Lauria, who was smiling into the fire. “Yes,” I said. I kissed my daughter again and took Alibek’s hand. “It is now.”