The rain poured in sheets. Their belongings were soaked. The mule they were riding was soaked. Bry was soaked and crying. Jasmine was soaked and in labor. For the thousandth time, she cursed her impatience and skittishness. She had been so eager to get on the road, head for Anya and stop staying in one place like a sitting duck, that she had made the worst decision since she became Jasmine.
Initially, Jasmine didn't recognize her contractions for what they were. When she finally realized she was in labor, she attempted to use the amulet. But all it did was make her hair black. She was glad to no longer need to dye it, and that the hair by her womanhood would not raise a midwife's eyebrows due to its color. But that wasn't much help if she couldn't find a midwife!
Another contraction hit Jasmine. She winced. They were getting stronger, longer, and more frequent. She didn't know anything about pregnancy and childbirth, but she had to assume that meant the former Lord Lake would be born soon. She wanted to find shelter, ideally with a midwife, but in the five hours or so since her labor started, they hadn't seen anyone or anything on the road.
Jasmine felt an urge to push. She resisted it. Barely. Her time was growing near. She had to find somewhere fast. Through the sheets of rain, she finally spotted it. Shelter! Jasmine urged the mule faster. It wasn't ideal, but giving birth on the back of a mule was worse than giving birth in...