The dates on the headstone matched. It read: John Doe, called to God early and spared the hardships of life. Lelani had done most of the digging throughout the night. They broke through an hour before dawn. Cal thought the plain pine box could not hold the body of a prince. Not a rational thought, since no one on this world knew who he was.
Cal MacDonnell, son of James, son of Mavis, son of Edmund, son of Chaucer, son of Edred, son of Henric, son of Sweyn, felt the pressure of his ancestors press against his sternum. They had been protectors of great houses since man left the safety of the caves. What was, or was not, in the casket determined the future of his line.
“Crowbar,” Lelani said.
Cal was worlds away and didn’t hear.
“Cal, crowbar,” Chryslantha said, pointing to the tool by his feet.
He handed the centaur the bar. Seth, Ben, Cat, Chryslantha, Erin, and a shadowy group gathered around the grave. Cat was breast-feeding the baby. She eased him off her tit and handed the boy to Chryslantha.
“Cal needs me now. Would you mind?”
Chryslantha pulled out her breast and let the child resume feeding. “Not at all.”
Lelani pried the lid open. An infant boy, dead for years, lay in the coffin.
“Doesn’t mean it’s him,” Cat said.
“Turn him over,” Cal said. “Take him out of the swaddling.”
Lelani did this, careful not to peel the moldy rotting skin as well. The remnants of a birthmark were on the left shoulder. It was shaped like a phoenix.
“Is that him?” Cat asked. “Is this the boy you’re looking for?”
Cal didn’t know what to say. He had failed his ancestors and cursed his descendants. He looked to Chryslantha feeding his son.
“Bum deal, my love,” she said. “I’m glad I didn’t tie my fortunes to yours. I don’t know what I’d have done if my children had been fathered by a loser like you. Better to spare anyone that fate.” The hand she held the baby’s head with twisted until there was a snap. “Ooh,” she cried. “Got to take them off the tap first. These little buggers really clamp down.”
“That’s it for me,” Cat said, throwing her hands up in defeat. “I’m done being an incubator for your useless family, Cal. I wasn’t even your first choice. Just some runner-up after you lost your mind… and for what? A third-rate feudal nobility. I should have married the orthodontist like my mother wanted me to. Well, our kids are dead, the prince is dead, so I’m outta here. Chryslantha says she has a younger brother who’s just my type.”
Cal looked down at the dead prince as everyone moved off in his or her own direction. He was soon alone with the corpse, which was as dead as his own future.