“Dawn had passed and it was most of the way to morning when the baby emerged into the world, looked around, and burst into tears.
“You get used to it,” the Sister told the infant, and handed the child to Marra, who stared at it with intense horror. It was bloody and wrinkly and reddish gray and looked like the sort of thing you would drive back to hell with holy water. “Um,” said Marra.
“Is it…Is…” The mother was panting and could hardly breathe. “It cried. It’s alive, right?”
“Oh, yes,” said Marra hurriedly. “Very alive.” She stared at it, trying to find something else to say. “Had arms and legs. And, uh…a head…”
“That’s good,” said the mother, and began giggling with high, hysterical laughter. “Oh, that’s good. You want them to have heads.”
“Lady of Grackles have mercy,” muttered the Sister Apothecary, but as she was saying this directly into the birth canal, no one but Marra heard.”
―
T. Kingfisher,
Nettle & Bone