Seventh Son: The Tales of Alvin Maker, Volume I Read Online Free PDF Page B

was coming, and I did a beseeching.”
    “Well you should have told me right off,” said Mama sharply. “Speck me to help you and you don’t even tell me he’s got a beseeching on him. You, girl!”
    Several young ones were standing near the wall, wide-eyed, and they didn’t know which one she meant.
    “Any of you, I need that iron key from the ring on the wall.”
    The biggest of them took it clumsily from the hook and brought it, ring and all.
    Mama dangled the large ring and the key over the mother’s belly, chanting softly:
    “Here’s the circle, open wide ,
    Here’s the key to get outside ,
    Earth be iron, flame be fair ,
    Fall from water into air.”
    The mother cried out in sudden agony. Mama tossed away the key, cast back the sheet, lifted the woman’s knees, and ordered little Peggy fiercely to see .
    Little Peggy touched the woman’s womb. The boy’s mind was empty, except for a feeling of pressure and gathering cold as he emerged into the air. But the very emptiness of his mind let her see things that would never be plainly visible again. The billion billion paths of his life lay open before him, waiting for his first choices, for the first changes in the world around him to eliminate a million futures every second. The future was there in everyone, a flickering shadow that she could only sometimes see, and never clearly, looking through the thoughts of the present moment; but here, for a few precious moments, little Peggy could see them sharp.
    And what she saw was death down every path. Drowning, drowning, every path of his future led this child to a watery death.
    “Why do you hate him so!” cried little Peggy.
    “What?” demanded Eleanor.
    “Hush,” said Mama. “Let her see what she sees.”
    Inside the unborn child, the dark blot of water that surrounded his heartfire seemed so terribly strong that little Peggy was afraid he would be swallowed up.
    “Get him out to breathe!” shouted little Peggy.
    Mama reached in, even though it tore the mother something dreadful, and hooked the baby by the neck with strong fingers, drawing him out.
    In that moment, as the dark water retreated inside the child’s mind, and just before the first breath came, little Peggy saw ten million deaths by water disappear. Now, for the first time, there were some paths open, some paths leading to a dazzling future. And all the paths that did not end in early death had one thing in common. On all those paths, little Peggy saw herself doing one simple thing.
    So she did that thing. She took her hands from the slackening belly and ducked under her mother’s arm. The baby’s head had just emerged, and it was still covered with a bloody caul, a scrap of the sac of soft skin in which he had floated in his mother’s womb. His mouth was open, sucking inward on the caul, but it didn’t break, and he couldn’t breathe.
    Little Peggy did what she had seen herself do in the baby’s future. She reached out, took the caul from under the baby’s chin, and pulled it away from his face. It came whole, in one moist piece, and in the moment it came away, the baby’s mouth cleared, he sucked in a great breath, and then gave that mewling cry that birthing mothers hear as the song of life.
    Little Peggy folded the caul, her mind still full of the visions she had seen down the pathways of this baby’s life. She did not know yet what the visions meant, but they made such clear pictures in her mind that she knew she would never forget them. They made her afraid, because so much would depend on her, and how she used the birth caul that was still warm in her hands.
    “A boy,” said Mama.
    “Is he,” whispered the mother. “Seventh son?”
    Mama was tying the cord, so she couldn’t spare a glance at little Peggy. “Look,” she whispered.
    Little Peggy looked for the single heartfire on the distant river. “Yes,” she said, for the heartfire was still burning.
    Even as she watched, it flickered, died.
    “Now he’s