by Melissa Mead
"My fault. Wait.” Miska crossed back and returned, handing Lindi a small object.
"A pearl button?"
"Blow on it, softly."
Button-flies, violet and gold and white, fluttered up from Lindi's hands. Miska watched the panic on the girl's face transform to awe, and breathed more deeply.
"I forgot something else my Mentors taught me. The Second World should be a place of wonder, not fear. Do you still want to go there?"
"Yes!"
This time it was easier. This time it felt right. Lindi stood still a long moment, just looking and marveling.
"It's beautiful,” Lindi breathed.
It was the library, and more. The walls glittered like faceted glass. A clear stream flowed along a fold of what had been plush carpet, and now rippled beneath the water like exotically-patterned grass. Trees grew among the bookshelves, casting dappled shadows. Twining vines, heavy with flowers, webbed the arched roof overhead. Sunlight poured through clear skylights onto their upturned faces.
"It's warm! And it smells like gardenias!” Lindi danced with delight.
"I've never smelled garden-yas, so that must be from your mind.” Miska sniffed. “It smells like quince to me. Nice. When I'm here by myself it's usually more like spruce trees."
"Can we ... Can we touch things?” Lindi reached tentative fingers toward a white-barked tree.
"Of course!” Miska jumped, grabbed a branch and swung from it, by way of demonstration. “You can read the books, even. The words would perhaps be different than you remember. And if you eat food here, you'll still be hungry when we return.” She dropped to the ground.
Lindi touched the bark quickly, as though afraid it would burn her. “It's rough...” She knelt and dipped her hand in the stream. “It feels cold and wet, but not quite right. Like it's already evaporated...” She bounced to her feet. “Let's follow the stream!"
And perhaps get lost, like Kimo? “No!"
Lindi stared, and Miska lowered her voice. “Not yet. First, your ribbon."
"I almost forgot! Let me do it myself."
Lindi called the Motes again, and this time they showered over her and stayed. The light caught the glittering specks, warmed, took on color ... Miska's eyes narrowed.
This isn't right, she thought. It must be the firelight. She took a step closer—and jumped back as Lindi pointed upward.
"Look! Through the glass. It's a hawk!"
Miska looked, and her breath came faster. High above them a raptor's shape formed a dark cross against the bright sky. It circled, searching. “It's a kestrel."
"It's pretty.” Head tipped back, Lindi watched the circling bird.
"It's Abri,” said Miska to herself.
"Lindi? Lindilora? Miska?” Aldinan's voice, quavering through the boundary, startled her.
"Quickly—we shouldn't frighten him, Lindi. Let me take you back."
"But my ribbon..."
Before she could finish, they both stood on the hearth rug. Aldinan blinked and rubbed his eyes.
"I must've dozed off for a bit,” he mumbled. “You two didn't look quite right for a minute. Dory's right—maybe I do need spectacles."
"Can you see my ribbon, Uncle Aldi?” Lindi switched her braid back and forth, trying to see the end.
"Very nice, sweetheart. Pink doesn't really go with that dress, though."
Lindi stopped, puzzled, and looked at Miska.
"Pink? Not yellow? What's pink for?"
Miska swallowed hard, and smiled shakily at her uncomprehending pupil.
"Pale red, of course. The color of the P'raptoi. You did well."
Outside, a bird called. Miska turned toward the sound, jumped up, and ran from the room.
Chapter 10
"I didn't mean to! I didn't do it on purpose!” Lindi banged on Miska's bedroom door. Miska, sitting cross-legged on the green carpet, sighed.
"I know. Please, let me be for a moment."
"You're mad at me! I know you wanted to wear red, but I didn't change the ribbon to spite you. I couldn't even see it!” The girl's voice rose to a wail.
Sighing, Miska got up and went to open the door.
"I wasn't angry with you, but I shall be if you keep interrupting."
"Interrupting what?” Lindi sniffled.
"I'm trying to Worldwalk, but I can't if you keep calling me."
"Are you looking for Kimo? Let me help! I thought that's what you've been teaching me for."
"No, I'm looking for someone else—my betrothed.” She should have realized Abri would be searching for her. Even if he couldn't bodily leave the Caverns, he would come to her. “I saw him in the Second World. He may have news.” Until the words were out, Miska hadn't thought that Abri might have more than one reason for searching her out. The realization chilled her.
"I'd love to meet him. Is he coming here?” Lindi froze in alarm. “You're not going to leave, are you? Please don't!"
"With Kimo lost, and those Steel Thorns out there looking for him? I could never go home without knowing he was safe first. But it may not be safe for you if I stay here, either.” Miska looked the Human girl over somberly. “You didn't hear what Juliar told me. They don't just hunt Kankenni. They've killed children."
"All the more reason to stay with Aunt Doria and Uncle Aldi and me. We know you're not a child. And once you teach me to Worldwalk, we'll find Kimo."
"If I teach you to Worldwalk, they may hunt you too."
Lindi tossed her head defiantly.
"I don't think so. I think they're cowards. Besides, you're my friend."
Miska choked on a laugh. “What would the Elders say to that! Truly, I'll be a long time explaining once I get home."
"What would you need to explain? I'm helping you find a lost boy. And you said you had a Human grandfather. Why shouldn't you have a Human friend?"
Miska looked at her.
"Sit down,” she said quietly.
Bewildered, Lindi sat.
"Don't be frightened,” said Miska. “I'm going to show you a History."
On the white wall opposite, Miska cast Mote-pictures. The same pictures Avoca had shown her in the Mirror. Lindi watched the red-clad Humans storm up the hill, swords flashing, and gasped. After just a few seconds, she began to cry.
"Stop, Miska, stop! That's awful!"
The pictures vanished. Miska put an arm around Lindi's trembling shoulders, and handed the girl a handkerchief.
"Did that ... Did that really happen?” Lindi snuffled. “There was a little girl; with white braids ... She looked so frightened."
"Yes, it did. But...” Miska smiled. “That little girl grew up. She's the Eldest of us all now."
"I'm glad.” Lindi sniffled once more. “But why are the Cantrips still afraid? If that was a long time ago, those people must be gone by now. And not all Humans are like that."
"Some are.” Miska swallowed. “And I need to show you what happened next. No, sit and watch."
The wall turned black. Motes formed outlines of paths, winding through echoing caverns. Miska had always been glad for the darkness in this part of the History. She never wanted to look too closely. Still, there was enough light to see the red-clad Humans blundering through the darkness, following illusions into chasms, underground lakes, pits of fire ... Miska cut this History short herself.
"Did they all die?” Miska opened her eyes at the sound of Lindi's voice. She hadn't realized she'd closed them.
"Yes. And we hid, because we knew the Humans would never forgive us. We hid from all but a few Humans, and we let those think we were Human children. We don't tell Humans where we live. We don't tell them our true names."
"But you told me your name! And Kimo's, too."
Miska laughed—a brief, humorless sound.” “I did. And I certainly hope your aunt understood what she promised, calling me part of your family. After this, I may have no other. The last Kankenni who came to this city never came home."
"I didn't even know.” Lindi stood up. “I don't care w
hat happened years ago. You're my friend. If you really want me to, I'll leave you alone. But...” Her voice broke. “If you have to leave, would you tell us first? Please?"
Lindi hadn't known about the Exile. How could she? Not long ago, she hadn't even believed that the Kankenni existed.
"I'm not leaving now—just finding my betrothed. Stay and watch,” said Miska quietly. “I won't be long."
* * * *
Across the Border, the carpet changed from moss-colored to actual moss. There were no more windows or walls, just trees and the crystal path of the rippling stream. This time, the clean spice of evergreen scented the air.
A high, skirling call sounded above her. She looked up, and a soft-needled spruce twig tumbled into her waiting hands. Seconds later the kestrel dropped from the sky and took on the shape of Abri, eyes bright as molten gold, smiling through his worries at the sight of her. His clothes seemed dreadfully shabby now, but to her he'd never looked more beautiful.
"Abri!” She threw her arms around him, wrapping him in an almost-solid embrace. It wasn't quite the same as being together in the Solid World, but oh, how she'd missed him.
He stroked her hair, and it felt as though the wind rippled through it. His kiss was like the touch of a sunbeam on her lips. “Dearest...” he murmured, and Miska was certain the tremor of his voice wasn't only from the distortion through worlds and miles. “We all thought they'd taken you and Kimo both. But Midyora said she'd seen you. The Elders have been searching for you in the Mirror."
"And Kimo?” Did the Elders see him too?” She pulled back just a bit to look into his face.
"No.” He looked away. “No."
"Then he's ... dead.” The shock and unexpected grief of it turned the Second World sky dark with storm clouds. Miska hid her face, breathing deeply.
"No ... That's the strange part. From what Ilion said, when the Elders search for a specific person who's dead, the Mirror won't show anything. Whenever they look for Kimo, it shows the tall, flat mountain of the Human city, as though Kimo were there. But it won't go closer. It won't show Kimo himself, or even a house. The image just ... blurs. Midyora said that if the Mirror were a pool, they'd say someone had thrown a pebble in."
"So Kimo may be alive, after all.” Miska felt her heart begin to beat again.
"But the Mirror says you're in the Human city, too. Where are you, love? And why are you dressed so strangely?"
"I am in the city, Dearest. These are ... Human clothes."
"Have they hurt you? Thank the Wondermaker you aren't poisoned. I'll get the Elders. With their help you should be able to Worldwalk home without the men in the gray-and-black cloaks finding you. If it weren't so far I'd come to you myself, right now. But I'll need others to help.” A split opened in the ground between them. Although it looked only a few inches wide, Abri paced alongside it as though the river and all the miles from the Caverns to the City lay between them.
"No ... I'm not with the Steel Thorns—although I'm afraid Kimo may be. We slipped between Worlds, and I ... I lost him. The Humans I'm with now have promised to help find him."
Abri's jaw dropped. The crack in the earth vanished. “Promised ... Dearest, what have you told them?"
"Too much,” Miska replied steadily. “But only about Kimo and I. I will be the only one hurt, even if these people are treacherous. But I trust them."
Abri opened his mouth to say something, but Miska suddenly doubled over, feeling as though her insides had been stirred with a whisk.
"Miska!” Abri cried.
"Someone ... touched me,” Miska gasped. Out of pure reflex, she reached for her solid body and pulled, expecting to fall back into her own skin. Instead, Lindi, wide-eyed and frantic, stumbled into the Second World. Before Miska could say a word, Abri was beside her, with his P'raptoi's staff held across the terrified girl's throat.
"Is this what they wanted?” Miska had never heard her lover's voice so harsh. “For you to Worldwalk home, so they could follow you?"
Lindi, pinioned behind the wooden bar, looked wildly in Miska's direction.
"Let her go!"
Abri stared at her in disbelief.
"Let her go. She's a child. And a friend. Do you think I would lie ... about this ... to you?"
Golden and green eyes locked. Lindi made a faint choking sound. Slowly, Abri released his hold. Lindi flung herself on Miska, sobbing wildly.
'You were gone so long ... and you went so still ... I was afraid you'd gotten lost ... I thought ... Oh ... oh...” She broke off in incoherent flood of tears.
"It's all right. Sh, shh.” Miska sat on the grass and cradled Lindi against her shoulder as though she were a Kankenni child and not a young Human woman who towered over her. Abri watched, baffled.
"Now you've frightened her,” Miska scolded.
"But...” Relief, anger, astonishment and confusion all swirled across Abri's face. “How did she get here? She shouldn't be able to do that!"
"Magic,” said Miska solemnly. Lindi began to choke with hysterical laughter. When she was calmer, Miska gestured for Abri to come closer. Never taking his eyes off Lindi, he obeyed. Lindi shrank back against Miska.
"It's all right, Lindi,” Miska encouraged her “Remember, you said you wanted to meet my betrothed?” Her mouth curled in a wry smile. “Here he is."
Looking thoroughly off balance now, Abri managed a gentlemanly, if awkward, bow.
Lindi watched him as a mouse watches a cat. Still, with one more glance at Miska for reassurance, she stood and returned the gesture.
"It's an ... unexpected honor to meet you...?"
"Kestrel,” said Abri quickly. Miska frowned at him, but he shook his head—a quick, emphatic negative.
"Kestrel ... You were the beautiful gliding bird? I didn't know anyone could do that. How...?"
Unconsciously, she took a step forward. Abri took a step back.
"How did you get here at all?” he demanded, still roughly.
"Miska taught me. I'm going to be a pla ... a prat ... a hawk, like you. See my ribbon?” She turned her back to him for inspection. “I changed it by myself."
Miska watched him anxiously. His face worked. His shoulders shook. A tree trunk materialized under him, and he dropped onto it. It took even Miska a few minutes to realize that the strange sounds he was making were choked laughter.
"By the Wondermaker ... When I said we needed another P'raptoi, this was not what I meant. She can't even pronounce the word. Such an accent ... Oh, my love, I have much more sympathy for the poor Elders now.” He beckoned to Lindi. “Come here, little Human. See, I'll give Miska my staff. I'm sorry I frightened you. Are you hurt?"
"N-no.” Lindi rubbed her neck. “Not much, anyway."
"Just what has my betrothed been teaching you?” He spoke gently, but the intensity was still in his eyes.
"Not much, yet. I promised I'd help her find your lost little boy, and she's going to teach me about the Motes, so I don't get dizzy and fall down, or see things that aren't there."
"She really sees them?” This to Miska.
"Oh yes. She changed the ribbon on her own, too. All I did was help her cross the border."
Abri got up and paced around them both. Miska watched him with loving exasperation. Lindi followed his every move.
"This is all forbidden. Her knowing your name. Her knowing about Motes. Her being here..."
"Her being here is impossible, so we're told. But here she is. The Motes call her. Would you rather she blunder between worlds, untaught?"
Abri shuddered, but said nothing.
"And she is helping us. There's a debt."
Abri shook his head, but looked less certain.
"You know what the Elders would say,” he said at last. “They're in a terror as it is. Two P'raptoi go with Mid ... with the Eldest Healer whenever she needs to collect herbs. The children are kept below the First Level, always."
"Little Cousin?” Miska ventured.
Abri's gentle face turned g
rim. His entire body tensed and trembled. Around them, the Second World skies turned a bruised purple. The air, now bitterly cold, stank of sulfur. Miska took a step backward.
"What's wrong? Little Cousin...?"
"Alive. Barely. Ta...” Abri caught Lindi's wondering look, and frowned. “Her mother and father...” He broke off, turning his back on them.
"What, love?” Miska kept her voice calm. “What happened?"
"They took the baby outside. I know ... I know, and I still agree with you. We can't hide forever. But this time ... This time those Humans were waiting."
"Does he mean the Thorns?” Lindi squeaked.
"Hush, Lindi!” Miska reached blindly for something to sit on. Instead, Abri put his arms around her.
"Ill ... She will be all right, with time. Little Cousin may have a scar.” Abri looked miserable, trying not to glare at Lindi. Miska herself wished the girl could just go home; leave them free to speak the dear familiar names of friends. “But he ... They killed him, dearest."
Miska couldn't help it. She sobbed into Abri's shoulder. Shy, gentle Tanrin ... so proud of his new wife and daughter ... “Why?"
"The Humans tried to take the baby away.” Now tears streaked down Abri's face, too. “He tried to stop them. There was one Human, with metal on his wrists-like bones. He hit Tan ... the father hard.” Abri held Miska a bit tighter. “It was very quick. I don't think that ... that there was time for pain. The P'raptoi drove the Humans away."
"It's the man with the letter!” Lindi cried. The Kankenni stared at her: Abri angry, Miska bewildered. “You remember, Miska—the man who told Juliar to shut up and write. He wore ugly bracelets, like somebody's backbone.” Lindi made a face. “And he killed somebody? I'll bet he's a Steel Thorn. We'll find him for you, and..."
"Those Humans are here, as well?” Abri held out both of his hands to Miska, his eyes pleading. “Come home with me now, love. The Elders will be able to find their way here, now that you've made a doorway. They could find these Steel Thorns."
"And the Thorns could find them.” Miska shook her head. “I don't know why they want Kankenni, but they do. They'd recognize most Kankenni instantly, but I'm not so easy to spot.” She remembered Juliar's skepticism, and hoped that was true. Abri's image began to blur before her eyes.