Canniballistic1
patreon
The Hyperboreans (working title) chapter 4 rough draft
🕑 Added 2025-07-04 18:16:21 +0000 UTCThe race to reverse the wind
As Hylonome predicted, everything took too long. The engineering challenges were great, and she had so little to work with. How would she do it? To use a bellows design was good for short bursts of air, but it was always limited by the size. To have it run even a minute, she would need a squeezebox the size of a building! And even then you would have to stop and blow it out again, or let the air out of a hole, and that breaks the suction cycle and defeats the whole purpose! And then those damn sealants kept melting or cracking, which would make it useless anyway! What to do!? She swore blasphemously in the temple workshop night after night, tools flying.
Meanwhile on the roof, Choine halfheartedly spread her legs for the midwife, who was not some village auntie but a literate physician in her own right, and was told that all was well. Choine barely cared. She felt huge and overfull, her belly now swelling out twin-sized.
It had been several weeks since Boreas came. Choine was inconsolable, and ceased to bother showing herself to the public. Antigonos tried to tell her, it was midwinter now, perhaps Boreas was simply busy doing his duty as the winter wind god? Choine tried to believe that. She tried to remember his promise, that he was just up there, watching, invisible, and hadn’t abandoned her. But nothing she tried could help her feel less lonely, less ugly, less helpless. She feared in her heart that Boreas was right: by trying to change that part of her fate, she made it come true.
At last some good news! An aqueduct engineer from Athens arrived. He introduced valves to the project: things which could let water in but not out. But do it with air was a whole other challenge. The type of valve the Athenian was used to would have to be completely re-engineered…
Choine’s belly was growing faster now, both forward and out, bigger and bigger...
A mechanist from Crete arrived next. He proposed that a double bellows system might be the answer, to keep a consistent stream of air. But that added a lot of complexity, the valves still didn’t work right, and the best suction they could get was weak and sputtering…
The belly was expanding towards her knees when she sat down, her sons crowded tightly, kicking strongly, and she had no one to comfort her…
A materials specialist, a woman from Corinth, gave a fascinating story. Years ago she had been to Egypt, where she heard of a wondrous material you could get from the sap of certain trees in Africa, called rubber. She even got to touch it once. It was elastic, yet stable and could fit together tightly. Sadly there were no such trees in the Aegean, but you rendered down dandelions in the right way, you could get a material just like it. But you had get a lot of them, and it was winter, so they were hard to come by this far north. Might we just settle for pitch, or resin, the Athenian asked? No, she replied, she didn’t imagine you could make his valves out of that…
Choine’s belly button now poked out just at her knees. Her massive middle swayed back and forth as she waddled, and she felt as big and full and tight as a ship’s sail…
The project was hitting dead end after dead end. Maybe the bellows design was too primitive, and new approach was needed, the Athenian said. No, said the Cretan, the mechanics are just put together wrong, the moving parts were just too un-synchronized to get consistent results. Useless, said the Corinthian, all of it useless, until we get working valves and seals.
Your dandelion material is too experimental and too costly, retorted the Athenian. It is distracting us from finding materials that are proven to work.
We have working on your valves for months and you haven’t found anything that works yet. We need something new, instead of trying the same things like madmen, insisted the Corinthian.
She had no right to speak to him that way, harrumphed the Athenian, he had helped design some of the greatest water systems in the world, and what has she done all her life but grind flowers together?
Hylonome moved to break it up, and the Athenian turned on her too. Why was she in charge? What contributions had she made? None of the others in that room were qualified to run this project, least of all Hylonome. What had she done, he proclaimed, but give them one set of bellows and be friends with the temple brood sow upstairs?
The centaurine called him an ignorant, arrogant blowhard. The Athenian called her a drunken beast of the field. Fists flew. Hylonome won. The Athenian tumbled down the temple steps. He swore to get the law involved, and stormed off into the night. The project was one mind down, and the machine remained unfinished.
Upstairs, the midwife stepped out of the great shadow of Choine’s belly. “Won’t be long now, I’m sure. You’ve almost made it to 10 months. You never see that with multiples. They are definitely a strong and healthy lot, as you can feel I’m sure. Now that we’re getting close, it’s time to come up with a birth plan. Where would you like to deliver?”
“...up here, I suppose.”
“Never done a birthing on a roof before, but you do seem to have plenty of room, it’s well-furnished; yes, I can work with that. With your permission, I will have my assistants bring the specialized furniture and tools and leave them up for for when the time comes. May I?”
“Yes, whatever you need.”
“Very good. I will check in with you weekly, and your staff will know how to reach me.” The midwife gave Choine a well-practiced grandmotherly smile. “Don’t worry, my lady. It’s a nervous time, I know, but you will be in the best of hands.”
As Choine watched her go, she seethed with bitterness and black despair. No, you old goat, she thought, I am not in the best of hands. The best of hands left me, some bloated pregnant whore, here on this rooftop long ago. I am alone, with these brats who are in a constant wrestling match on top of my bladder, and they are my only company. I hate them, I hate this roof, and I hate the whole world. Most of all I hate myself. Where is he? WHERE IS HE?
She stood up with a groan, and waddled heavily to the curtains facing north. She threw them open, and rested her huge, heavy belly on the wall. The moon was huge tonight, and she could see the plains, with their fields of brown dead grass, far below. The mountains loomed large and black, and towering above them all, far away, was Mt. Olympus.
He wasn’t even on Olympus, she groused inside. He was not an Olympian, one of the twelve. He wasn’t even a major god. He was one of four minor wind gods, the Anemoi, and they were subject to Aeolus, the Keeper of Winds (whom this land was named after) and even he! He was a human, companion of Odysseus when he came back from Troy, and he ascended to godhood on the merit of a magic bag that could hold the winds, and he wasn’t an Olympian either! A minor wind god, subject to a slightly less minor wind god! Who lived in Thracia somewhere! Who only came down here to fuck her for fun and leave!
She tore off the top half of her dress in a fury. Her massive belly and breasts wobbled with the violent movement, lit up by the moon as if by a beam, and she bared it all to the north.
“Look at me, Boreas!” she shouted to the sky. “Look at what you have done! Your children are coming soon, and I am alone! Where is your promise? Where are you, when I need you? Show yourself! Tell me why you left me! Tell me why you betrayed me!”
“I am here, dear one.”
She whirled around, or rather, swung around. There he was. Standing there as if he never left.
“You!”
“Yes, Choine. It is I. I was angered, and hid myself from you. Now it has passed. I have forgiven you.”
Choine stood there, aghast. “Forgiven me? For what? Do you know what you have done to me? You forgive me, for loving you with all my heart, and then a moment of fear?”
“Shall you forgive me, for loving you with all my heart, and then a moment of anger?”
“No! That is not the same! You are a god, and a man! I am a woman, and a mortal, and about to have your children! I needed you! For the slightest doubt, you left me here for weeks, to do this all myself!”
“I never left you. I have watched over you the whole time, hidden from your sight. But I was always with you. That was my promise.”
“Of course you were! That’s what all the gods do! They sit up there and watch! What good is that to me! You were different to me, Boreas! You were a god I could touch, and hold, and love! You filled all my days with joy! How could you stand apart from me, and watch me suffer?”
“...I am...used to watching mortals suffer. It is a thing all gods must contend with. Even those they love. And I do love you, Choine. I too have suffered, without your touch.”
“Do you know what I’ve had to contend with?” She grabbed her huge belly with both hands. “This! Our suffering has not been the same, has not been remotely equal! Who carries this burden? Not you! You gave it to me! And left me! When I burned for you, when I needed your hands on me, your comfort…” The tears ran down her cheeks, and glistened in the moonlight. “...you broke my heart.”
Boreas was silent for a moment. Then he took a step forward. “Choine...how to explain this...Choine, to be a god, is to restrain oneself, always. Either to hold our power back, or to harden one’s heart against suffering, so one does not interfere too greatly in the world of men. Each one of us plays our part to keep the universe in order. That is our fate, our duty, for all time.”
“But you...dear Choine...at the sight of you, I lost control. I made myself flesh and came to you when you called, for I had to have you. I lost control again when they kept you from me, when they cast you out of the temple doors. And yet again, when you seemed to doubt me, to show ingratitude for what I had done for you, I lost control. I thought, in that moment, that you owed me for my works. I forgot, for a moment, that my responsibility is far greater.”
“...I wish we gods were perfect, Choine. Then the world would be perfect, and you need never know sorrow, nor a broken heart. But alas, I have chosen to love a mortal, and I have brought you sorrow and heartbreak in great measure. There is no one that can be blamed for that but I.”
Choine put both hands on her belly, and regarded him. That was...almost good enough. But not quite.
“That was a godly apology. But...can you apologize like a man, my love?”
At first, he did not move. Then, slowly, he sank to one knee, and bowed his head.
“I am...so sorry, dear one. I love you, and cannot stand to be apart any longer. Can you forgive me?”
She waddled to where he knelt. She wished she still had her old body for this moment. But this would also do. Stopped with her belly close to his head.
“Put your ear to me, and listen.”
He raised his head. He put his hands on her great big middle and put his ear to it. He listened for a moment, then cracked a rare, glowing smile.
“My sons...I hear their heartbeats. Oh my sons…”
He looked up at her lover’s face. “How could I have expected any more from you? How could you give me an offering greater than this? Truly, my shame is greater than ever. I say again, can you forgive me?”
“Yes. I love you and I forgive you. Now do not forget, and be with me.”
They embraced. And then they kissed. And then they soared up into the sky together. Choine felt her weight no more, and she felt her god’s touch more viscerally and joyfully than ever before. They tumbled together through the air, and made love in all kinds of impossible midair angles, humongous belly and all. And Again. And again. And again. Until the moon set and the sun began to brighten the hills.
They finally settled back to earth, finished and happy. Reconciliation, after a long starvation, made it more wonderful than ever.
“Oof,” said Choine, feeling all her weight again at once. “I do not entirely forgive you for this. I’m glad to know it will be over soon.”
But she was wrong.
Another week passed, and the midwifery team brought a birthing chair and some supplies to Choine’s roof. They were poised to react the moment it was time. But labor did not come.
Nor did it come the next week. Or the week after that. Her belly kept growing, alarmingly, even larger. Her babies’ home now swelled out past her knees. The midwife kept checking her each week, though she stopped saying that all was well. Yet another week passed, a whole month overdue. What was going on?
Hylonome did not pause to wonder what miracle gave her more time. She had to get her team back together and break through this gridlock with one less member. She got a working modified bellows working with one of the Athenian’s valves at it’s blowing end, and one in the side of the bag. It was wonderful, she got the air to come in one end, and not out the same way! But frustratingly, the metal on metal valve was simply not tight enough to stop air from leaking, and resins and tars only made them stick shut. She ordered the Corinthian to keep working on getting that dandelion rubber, fast...
Boreas had no explanation why the babies had not come yet. But true to his word as a god, he took care of her. His assurances and acts of love kept her going. And boy, did they make love. Another 2 weeks, and no babies. Only a middle that kept increasing in size...
Finally, the Corinthian managed to extract enough dandelion sap and render it into a rubbery substance. She fashioned a pair of rings, and fit them together for the team to demonstrate. They made a tight seal when pressed together, yet separated easily. The rings were applied to a valve, and...by the gods. A perfect seal. No air leakage whatsoever. Eureka! Now the next hurtle: how to get it to run continuously…
The 12 month mark came and went. Choine’s belly, when she sat down and straightened her legs, was about quarter of the way down her shins. It was summer again, just as it was on that fateful day when she first bared her breasts to the north, and she was still vastly, increasingly pregnant. Pregnant for a whole year. Unheard of. What was taking so long? The midwife was showing some definite concern, and began to give Choine poultices, powders, medicines to help promote labor. They tasted terrible, and did not work. The days and weeks kept passing, and bride of Boreas kept growing, bigger and bigger…
The two-bellows system was taking shape, but was not getting them the results they wanted. No matter the configuration, pulling a bellows open instead of pushing on it was hard, the suction, while improving, was still weak no matter how synchronized they tried to operate it. Besides, it tired out the user very quickly.
A breakthrough came when a surprising contributor came to the temple project: a gardener. He had invented a water sprayer, using a wooden box, a plunger, and a nozzle. He had heard of their mission to make the wind reverse course, and he showed them how, when he pulled the plunger back, water or air could be sucked back into it. Hylonome was stunned. How obvious! How efficient! It wouldn’t work at that size of course, and she was a bit sad to give up on her bellows design but...this new device could be the key. She ordered the machining of two just like it, but 3 times its size, and fitted with valves. The Cretan and Corinthian protested such a sharp turn in the design at this stage, but Hylonome was insistant. Choine, she said, seemed to be giving them plenty more blessed time…
13 months. The Sacred Mother was now so large that she could not stand up or walk on her own. She no longer bothered to try wearing anything above her belt, with her breasts and belly so vastly swollen that they defeated any tailor’s attempt to cover them. She still had her morning olive oil bath, and those breasts and belly alone took a whole bottle.
Her belly grew larger every day, and along with it, her fear. But she could not show it to anyone: she still had a temple to run, after all. She still made morning appearances, which drew huge crowds of devotees who gaped at the size of her. She still accepted audiences, some that traveled many miles just to see her. They bowed before her, who sat gigantically round and regal on a pile of cushions, wearing nothing above the belt except gold jewelry. They praised her, called her pregnancy a true blessing and miracle. But to Choine it felt like neither. She commanded Antigonos to make sacrifices to Artemis, to Hera, to any goddesses of childbirth, read the smoke and the entrails for signs, to bid them to relieve her body of these ponderous sons. She got no answers, and no relief. The birthing chair on her roof sat empty, the birthing ropes that rung from the crossbeams blew unused in the wind. They mocked her.
Had she done this to herself as well? In tying her fate, her childbirth, to that cursed machine downstairs, had she doomed herself to remain pregnant until it was complete? Oh, what a cruel twist of fate! What a sick punishment! She remembered Boreas’ words, about how other gods may have their eye on her, and it seemed to her that someone up there was laughing.
Only Boreas could give her any comfort. His touch on her belly quieted the mighty thrashings of the big babes inside. The gentle massaging of her breasts, his breath and kisses on her neck, soothed her tired and tested body. He made her float, relieved her of the crushing weight of her womb. With that belly, they could even try new positions: it was so huge that he could hug it to his middle like a bale of hay, and thrust, thrust, thrust, thrust until her face and loins were hot like the sun, her swollen breasts flopping like overfull winesacks, her breath rising higher and higher, her mind blank yet full of stars, and for a while, she forgot about her troubles and knew only love. Most importantly, he told her that despite the strangeness of weeks and months, that he loved her, he would let nothing happen to her, and she would be alright.
But the release would never last long, and her god’s love did not make her babies come any sooner.
At the turn of the 14th month, at last, Hylonome summoned Choine down to see the finished prototype. And Choine did come. At the sight of her, Hylonome dropped her tools.
The Sacred Mother came majestically through the temple doors, supported by four attendants. Two held her under the arms. The other two, using a sheet, stood on either side of her belly and held it up in a sling. It was enormous. Shining. Spotless. Heavy with life and power. They carried it with the reverence of an idol, befitting the divinity within. A pair of maidens cast flower petals before them as they entered. Another fetched a pair of stools, and placed them one in front of the other. Choine’s procession positioned her above the stools. Then slowly, carefully, lowered Choine down on one stool, and her belly down on the other. Both of them creaked.
Choine gazed at the frozen Hylonome, and her equally gobsmacked collaborators. Her hands rested on her gigantic middle.
“Well?” Choine spoke. “Have you finally built it? You have had...unexpectedly ample time. I grow...quite weary of waiting.”
“uhhhh Right!” yelped the centaurine, “Of course! We have it right here! Behold, my lady! The machine that reverses the wind!”
She trotted aside, and revealed sprawling contraption of pipes, wood, valves, nozzles, and for some reason...oars. There were 8 large, long wooden box-like chambers, each one with an oar extending out from the plunger at the end, and seated at the end of each oar was a well-muscled man. They also looked on in amazement at their tremendously gravid patron.
“You wouldn’t believe all the stuff we had to figure out, I don’t even know where to start...but the oars and pistons, that really did it! My Cretan colleague here came up with that one, he saw the pumping action we had to do to the piston chambers, what did he think of, out of the blue? His sailing days, yanking oars! Having a whole lot of them at once, depressed asynchronously at the right frequency by a bunch of Olympic rowers like we got here, ensures that we have a strong and uninterrupted flow of reverse air pressure!”
Choine cocked her head to the side, blank faced. Someone made a small, awkward cough.
“A, uh, practical demonstration then! Rowers! Take your oars! Ready...ROW!”
8 men began to pull their oars, which pulled the plungers out of their chambers, which sucked air in. Pushing them back blew the air out the side. The room was filled with the sound of creaking wood, and the hiss and sigh of air being sucked in a blown out through valves. Faster and faster, hiss, sigh, hiss, sigh, hiss sigh hiss sigh hiss sigh hiss sigh, and underneath the growing cacophony of mechanical noise, a steady windy sound came from a nozzle at the end of the machine.
“That’s it, we have suction! Antigonos, the brazier please!”
Old Antigonos, holding a small bowl of fire with gloved hands, brought it over to the nozzle. The Corinthian came and poured a bit of water on the fire, making it hiss and steam. As it rose, the steam was sucked right into the nozzle.
“Aha! See? That’s the wind reversing course if I ever saw it! And we can keep it up for ages, those guys over there, amazing athletes! And look at this! I even came up with an attachment!”
Hylonome went to a table and got a long length of leather hose, sealed with pitch. She locked on end on the nozzle, and brought the other end to the petals on the floor. They began to be sucked into it.
“Pick up the pace on the rowing guys, more power!”
The rowers grunted and obeyed, and the petals flew in faster!
“Eh? Isn’t that something? Of course the way we have it set up now we’d need filters to use it like this more often, we’re going to have to go in there and—”
SNAP! One of the plunger shafts broke, and a rower fell backward off his stool. The Cretan barked for them to stop, and the machine went silent.
“Eesh. Looks like we might have to look into metal components for version 2…” muttered Hylonome. “But...ANYWAY!” she announced, trying to look Choine in the eye and not her belly. “I don’t know why you wanted it...I don’t know purpose this thing is supposed to serve, I mean, you could probably clean up a lot easier with like, a broom...but we did it! We made something nobody’s made before! What do you think? Is this what you wanted?”
Choine smiled a wan smile. “Yes. I am most pleased. I will see that all of you are rewarded, and that your names are remembered for this achievement. But for now...I must return to my chambers. I am very tired.” Her attendants moved to help her up.
“Do you...need a hand getting back up there?” asked Hylonome?
“We will see to the Mother ourselves!” hissed a maiden.
“Peace!” shouted Choine, and all backed away and bowed. She looked up at Hylonome, her strong equine form. She let her mask slip for a moment, and raised a mischievous eyebrow.
“You may...if you are able.”
“I may be a tinkerer, my lady, but my back is strong. Let me give you a ride.” Her horse’s legs knelt under her, and her humanoid arms crossed, and she smirked at the challenge.
Choine’s attendants supported her belly, and helped her up onto Hylonome’s back. The centaurine already regretted her decision. Gods, she was heavy! But I can’t wimp out now, she thought. She rose to her hoofs, shaking a little, feeling the strain on her spine.
What a sight! Mighty Hylonome, arms thick and hearty, horse’s coat shining black and beautiful, and on her back, the Sacred Mother, wearing nothing but a loincloth and her jewelry, her hair dark and lustrous as the sea, her eyes green as the fields, her skin a soft and golden bronze, and her belly, huge, holy, and terrible as the rising sun.
All raised their hands in awe, and chanted, “Praise be to Choine, Sacred Mother, wife of Boreas, most blessed of all women! From her mouth pours wisdom! From her heart, pours strength! From her loins, she shall bring forth gods!”
They reached Choine’s chambers, and Hylonome, when she was sure no one was looking, bent down as much as she could, legs shaking.
“OK, can you please get off now, you gotta get off, get off—”
Choine and her humongous belly slid off, staggered to the cushion pile, and landed on it with a POOM. She sighed, then smirked at Hylonome, who was straightening up and glaring.
“I’m glad you thought that was funny! You about broke my back!”
“How do you think my back feels?”
“Sheesh,” breathed Hylonome, looking at her old friend. She didn’t think it was possible for a belly to get that big. She looked like she ate a whole human whole. Like if Choine, as she knew her over a year ago, curled up into a ball, she could fit inside her own belly. “I can’t even imagine. Are you sure you aren’t part goddess yourself? I mean, you can’t be normal. I don’t think a regular human woman could hold in kids this long!”
“I was a foundling, so I don’t know. But trust me, I’m not “holding them in”. You would not believe how much I want these babies out of me.”
“Well...hopefully it ain’t long. Sorry to say so, but you look like you’re about to explode, girl! How big do you think they are?”
“I’d rather not think about that. I pray that I’ll live to tell you!”
“Oh, don’t talk like that! You’ve got a god on your side, you’re strong as a cyclops, and you got all the best mortal help you can get.” She looked around the rooftop abode, and all the old midwifery equipment strewn around. “It looks like you’re all set up here, so whenever those kids are ready, you’ll—”
She stopped and looked at the birthing chair. It was pretty standard, 4 legs, armrests with handles attached for grasping, a back rest, and U-shaped hole cut in the bottom. She looked at it, looked back at Choine, looked back at the chair. She looked back at Choine again, incredulously.
“This thing? This is what they expect you to have your babies on?”
“That’s one of the tools from what I understand, yes.”
“This rickety old thing? Can it even hold you? I don’t know, Choine, I don’t trust it.”
“You think it will break?”
“Try it! Let’s test it now. It’d be bad news if it breaks on you on the day!”
“I don’t want to get up again…”
“Come on, you pulled a mean trick on me today, and now I’m going to get mine back. I’ll help you up, come on.”
She dragged over the chair, and blew the dust off it. It had been there for months, after all. With both women grunting with effort, they heaved Choine up onto it. For a brief moment, as she settled into the chair, a strange and frightening feeling of reality seeped into her heart. She held the handles in her hands, and imagined squeezing them as hard as she could. She felt the breeze on her bottom through hole in the chair, and imagined a great big baby sliding through it. She was going to have to give birth. She was going to have to push out a god’s children, 3 of them, and they were bound to be huge. In this very chair--
These thoughts dissipated in an instant when the chair groaned, a leg snapped, and it pitched her whole round body back onto the cushions. The tension broke with the chair, and both ladies laughed and laughed.
“Yeah!” Hylonome wheezed, “That’s about what I thought! I can totally make a better one than that, you want me to?”
“Sure!” Choine chortled, “why not? The wind machine looks good enough, and I guess you have all the time in the world. Maybe these babes will never come out!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a lot of spare parts from the project, and compared to a wind machine, a chair will be a cinch! Let’s pretend I got a real tight deadline, because,” eyeing Choine’s mid-shin-length midsection, “damn.”
“Here’s hoping that with this part of the prophecy ready, things are all set to come about. But I’ve been wrong before.” She slid her hands down her belly, deep in thought. “In any case, please get started right away.”
And she did. Another pitiless week and a half passed, along with a few more inches of pitiless growth, but true to her word, Hylonome came up with a splendidly complex birthing chair. It had levers and cogwheels all over it, which let it be tilted forward and back, moved up and down, and had adjustable arm rests with handles. It even came with a small crane arm with a sling, to help support the giant belly if needed. It was of course, well reinforced.
One night, halfway through the 14th month, while Choine withstood the monstrous kicking and wriggling of her overgrown sons, the attendant Phoebe came up with a lantern.
“Hylonome is here, and asks that she come up to do some adjustments to your chair, my lady. Said that it had to be done right away.”
At this hour? She tried her best to compose herself. “Send her up.”
Hylonome trotted up with a box of tools, and looked around furtively.
“What’s the matter?” asked Choine. “I’ve never seen you drop by so late before.”
“Can we talk alone?”
Choine nodded at Phoebe, who bowed and departed. Hylonome went to the curtains to peek through them, then checked the old trap door. Choine was unnerved. She had never seen her friend act this way before.
“Hylonome, what is going on? Why the secrecy?”
The centaurine dragged the new chair over to where Choine, and took a saw, and began to saw away at the chair’s bottom, loudly. She spoke as she did so, and Choine struggled to hear her:
“I think Antigonos might be up to something. I heard him arguing with the midwife. She wanted to see you, and he told her no. When’s the last time you saw her?”
Choine thought. “It has been a while. She stopped coming to do weekly checkups...at least a few months ago? I didn’t think there was any point, so I didn’t call her.”
“That’s not what Antigonos said. I didn’t make it all out, but I think he told her it was your orders to stay away until the day. He talked about making sure the “divine sons” came out healthy. Not another peep about you. I don’t like it...something tells me, he doesn’t expect you to live.”
“...well...he’s wrong! The prophecy said I’ll have three beloved sons, and that can’t happen if I die! Boreas promised me I would be alright too!”
“Do you trust Boreas on that? Is he telling the truth?”
“...yes. Yes, I believe it. I told myself, that I would not doubt him again. I have faith that the prophecy and his word will see me through. That’s all I can do right now.”
Hylonome put the saw down, and started sanding just as loudly. “Well I’d have no faith in Antigonos if I were you. I don’t know if what he’s up to will beat all you got on your side, just...watch out for yourself.”
When she finished packed up her tools and barked out, “Well, that ought to do it! Glad I could get that straightened out. Be well, my lady!” Her hooves drummed back down the ramp.
Choine looked at the chair, and saw that Hylonome had made the opening in the bottom quite a bit bigger.
Finally. Right at the 15th month. Half again as long as an ordinary pregnancy. Choine sitting there on carpet, meditating, eyes closed, legs wrapped around her unbelievably vast belly, whose button, jutting like a figurehead, reached her ankles. The days duties done, the sun setting, a gentle autumn breeze blowing through the curtains. Relaxed after vigorous sexual session with her god. All was at ease. At that moment, Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth, at last, chose to throw her first dart. Choine’s womb contracted. Her eyes shot open.
“Boreas! My love! It’s time!”
