Gift of Fire

you feel all right, honey?”
    “I’m fine. A little tired, but that’s all.”
    “I can’t believe it. We’ve actually made ourselves a kid. A real live baby.”
    Verity smiled, amused by Jonas’s wonder. “Yes,” she said, a little amazed herself. “We did.”
    The past few months had been good, she thought with satisfaction. The time she and Jonas had had together before the baby arrived had assured them both that the bonds between them were strong enough to last a lifetime. Verity’s nagging, Jonas’s teasing, the laughter and the loving were all back to normal. Better than normal, Verity had decided. This time she could be sure that the emotional foundation was for real, not just a byproduct of the psychic link.
    The hospital room door burst open just as Jonas leaned down to place his son back in the cradle. Emerson stood on the threshold, loaded down with flowers and packages.
    “Behold, I come bearing gifts and the U.S. mail. How’s little Nicholas Emerson?”
    “Sleepy,” Jonas said. “Keep your voice down, Emerson.”
    “Kid might as well get used to the fact that he’s got a mouthy mother, a loud grandfather, and a daddy who’s good with a knife. Here you go, Jonas. A letter from some magazine. Looks like a check.”
    “Wonderful,” Verity exclaimed. “I told you they’d love your piece on Digby Hazelhurst’s contributions to Renaissance scholarship.”
    Jonas raised beseeching eyes toward the ceiling. “Done in by success. Now I suppose I won’t get any peace until I write that follow-up article for the editor who got me into that mess to begin with.” But he was smiling with satisfaction as he ripped open the envelope and removed the check inside.
    Verity knew the source of that satisfaction. During the past few months Jonas had come to the realization that his knowledge of Renaissance history and his feel for the period had not vanished along with his talent. The things he had learned in the academic world and in the time corridor were his for a lifetime.
    “And more baby presents,” Emerson continued as he placed gaily wrapped packages on the bed. The kid is really raking it in. A package from the Griswalds, one from that Crump fellow, and one from Sam Lehigh.”
    Verity pulled off ribbons and tore paper with enthusiasm. Rick and Laura Griswald’s gift was an adorable little yellow playsuit. She held it up with delight. “Isn’t it cute? It’s perfect for him.”
    “Looks a few sizes too big, if you ask me,” Jonas said, examining the outfit with a critical eye.
    “Don’t worry,” Emerson advised. “Babies grow. Fast.”
    “Let’s see what Oliver sent,” Verity said. She shredded more paper, lifted off the top of a white box, and revealed a beautiful chunk of amethyst crystal. “It’s lovely,” she said, turning the glittering crystal in her hands.
    “What the hell’s the kid going to do with that?” Emerson demanded.
    “It’s not for Nicholas,” Verity announced, belatedly reading the small card. “It’s for me. To help me get my strength back quickly.”
    “How the heck is a hunk of crystal going to do that?” Emerson growled.
    “Who knows?” Jonas gave his wife a secret grin. “Look at it this way—it can’t do any harm.”
    “Let’s see what Lehigh sent,” Emerson said encouragingly.
    Verity obediently tore the paper off the last package. When she raised the lid on the long thin box her eyes widened in amazement. Inside lay a dagger with a jeweled handle. “Lehigh certainly has an odd notion of what to give a newborn.”
    Emerson chuckled and came around the side of the bed to get a closer look. “Probably expects the kid to take after his dad. Hell of a dagger though, isn’t it? Look at that handle. Knowing Lehigh, those stones are real. Take a look, Jonas.” Emerson stood back.
    Jonas frowned as he glanced at the dagger. “Looks genuine, all right. Fifteenth- or sixteenth-century Italian.”
    “Probably from his collection,” Emerson remarked. Jonas reached into the box. His fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger.
    Verity sucked in her breath as the walls of the hospital room began to curve around her.
    “
Jonas.
”
    “Right here, honey.”
    She turned in the psychic corridor, searching for him. He smiled at her from the other side of the mysterious tunnel. His golden eyes were gleaming. He held the jeweled dagger in his hand.
    “Your talent,” she whispered. “It’s back.”
    “Strong as ever,” he said with