Panic gripped the former thief as she pushed against her tomb-she thought it was a tomb, at least. Not that she could see, although there was a vague light to the place.

~Hold still, my daughter. It is not time.~

She tried to reply. A sickly sweet fluid filled her mouth, causing her to dry-heave as she attempted to force it back out.

~Child, use your mind. You have a full day before you can break free. Try to reach your own babe.~

~That little revolting thing squiggling up me?!~ Esme really thought about retching again.

A sharp pain-a pressure-damn near exploded in her head. ~You unnatural spawn of unnatural spawn! That will be human enough for you-if you endure this-in short time!~

Esme reached down and gingerly grabbed the squirming mass and brought it up to her breast. It latched on, sending calm through her nervous system. She had done it to shut the voice in her head down, but had to admit the ties to the creature she held made it easier to endure this torture. ~When did I birth the thing?~

~I birthed him. You lay in the cocoon's coma.~

~When can I get out of here?~

~Tomorrow, at earliest. You have to dry out, so the strands will slough off of you. Your betrothed awaits to greet you. After that, for the sake of your child you must come to me.~

Esme found herself nodding off. Apparently the coma-whatever that is-didn't count as rest.