by Melissa Mead
"I'll wait in the little shed until you come back. I'll give some more water to the chevrals while I'm waiting."
Abri nodded.
"We'll all have to Worldwalk out of the house, or we'll be caught.” Miska paused. “But first..."
She held out her arms to Abri, smiling slightly. He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her, and kissed her forehead. They stood that way for a dozen heartbeats.
"You still smell like evergreen,” Miska murmured.
"Stop hugging her, Abri,” said Kimo, his voice flat.
"Hush, Kimo,” they chorused. They held each other for one more moment, then backed apart, and sighed.
"Well, then.” Abri picked up his staff. “Take my hand, Kimo. Good.” Miska took the boy's other hand in hers.
"Let's go together for a little way,” she said. “As far as the shed, at least."
It was hard to cross, even for Abri. Miska felt as though she were trying to keep her footing on a hair-thin wire. The Second World looked faded, tenuous. The evergreens were shadows of trees, the farthest hills paper cutouts. Even in the few moments it took them to arrive outside the shed, the colors about them washed paler and paler. When they stood once again in the Solid World, Abri looked at Miska in alarm.
"Where are all the Motes going? Lindi couldn't gather so many, so quickly—could she?"
"No, but they are going somewhere. Hurry, or you won't be able to get to the Temple.” Reluctantly, she pushed him away.
He leaned forward to kiss her once more, and then squared his shoulders.
"Take my hand, Kimo,” he said. “Good. Ready? Now."
Miska waited until their translucent outlines vanished before entering the shed. The chevrals surged toward her instantly, bleating and whickering and hammering their front hooves against their stall.
"Hush, noddiai, hush.” She came forward slowly, holding both hands out palms up. The chevrals snuffled, slowly relaxing. They stretched out their necks and lipped at Miska's fingers.
"That's right. Good ... boys? Girls? Well, that's very good. Did you drink all the water already? Not quite. Well, just in case..."
Miska hefted the empty bucket. “Oof! You'd think humans would make smaller buckets, or have a stream nearby."
Then she remembered. The pump stood just outside of the kitchen. If one of the Steel Thorns happened to be passing a window, she'd be caught.
"Unless they do have water nearby,” she said out loud. The chevrals pricked up their ears. “Are you trying to tell me they do, then?"
In the Caverns, there was always a pool nearby. Here ... Miska tried to remember what Doddi Jakki had told her about how Humans found water. Pumps, and rooftop rain catchers, like in Elder Aldinan's house. Rain barrels, and wells. Covered wells. Miska searched the floor, board by board, and found a cover, with a handle.
"Here we are! Water!"
She pulled back the door and looked into the hole beneath. There was no water.
There were more steps.
There were no clean stone stairs here, no glimmers of candlelight. Just a half-rotted wooden ladder, dropping into muddy darkness. Perhaps this had been a well once, and then dried out, with the ladder there to fix ... well, whatever needed fixing in a well. She started to move away from the hole, and stopped, listening. Had there been a sound, just the faintest cry?
Yes. No question. It was muffled by distance and the weight of the earth, but someone had shouted, or screamed.
"Lindi,” she said. With an apologetic glance at the chevrals, she slid feet first into the hole.
There was nothing to see but darkness, nothing to smell but dirt, nothing to feel but grit down the back of her dress, and the slick rungs of the ladder sliding beneath her hands. She touched each as lightly as possible and moved on before it could splinter. The farther down Miska went, the more the rungs creaked and bent. At last they cracked and she hurtled downward, to land bruised and shaken on a pile of debris. She lay still for a few moments, spitting dirt. Then she straightened, and smacked her head on the roof of a tunnel. Crouched low, hands outstretched, she felt her way along until she came up short against splintered wood that shifted under her hands. Crates and boxes, judging from the outlines and the feel. Pale light filtered between cracks, and she could make out the sound of voices.
"But I don't know how, Lady Myringa! I've never gone into the Second World by myself. And I can't see the Motes anymore. I don't understand..."
"I told you! It's simple: show me how to get into the Second World, so I can bring back Thanli. Simple."
"But I can't..."
"It looks like someone's being uncooperative."
"No! But..."
"Very well, we'll need the Impsbane after all. I might just as well have used the Cantrips. Now, will you drink it like a good girl, or shall I have the boys give you a needle?"
Miska peered between the slats and saw a wall of pink—Myringa's satin-clad back. The woman stumped toward Lindi, brandishing a bottle of milky liquid. Lindi scrambled away from her. Dark hair straggled about the girl's face, and her eyes were huge with panic.
"Don't. Please don't..."
"I have the formula perfect now. I'm sure of it!” Myringa made a futile grab for Lindi. “Stand still! I'm not going to hurt you."
"Get away from Lindi!” Miska kicked at the wooden wall in front of her. Crates fell and splintered. Miska fought her way through the pile of broken boards. Myringa whirled and stared at her, her mouth hanging slack.
"You...” she managed at last, “are a very naughty girl."
"I,” Miska returned, “am not a girl at all."
Myringa narrowed her eyes. “No. You're a Cantrip. I think. You're not like the others, though.” Miska stood proudly while Lady Myringa studied her, clearly puzzled by her unmarked face, her green eyes and flaming hair.
"I'm Kankenni. Mostly."
"You can take me into your Second World. She"—Myringa waved a hand toward where Lindi stood speechless—"doesn't understand. I don't want emeralds or rubies. I want Thanli back. Take me to where he is!"
Miska pointed at the skeleton, dry and still in its glass case. “He's not in the Second World, Lady Myringa."
"Not his body! Thanli. His real self. They all said he was dead, at the Temple. But I know he's waiting for me. I hear his voice.” She looked down on the Cantrip, and her lip curled with contempt. “But you wouldn't understand, you with your magic. You don't know what it's like to lose someone forever."
Miska choked. Lindi shook herself free of her own shock.
"You don't know what you're talking about! You don't care who you hurt, as long as you get your way. You killed people, Lady Myringa."
The older woman's face went white, then red. “I never..."
"You had someone else do it for you, then. That's just as bad."
"I never meant to. I'll make it right. See?” Myringa uncorked the bottle and drained half the flask at one gulp. Chalky liquid dribbled down her chin.
"Lady Myringa!” Lindi cried.
"What are you doing?” Miska grabbed the bottle away from the staggering woman. “You're not Kankenni. We don't know what that poison will do to you."
"Not poison. It will take me to Thanli.” Myringa's hand clamped down on Miska's shoulder. “And you'll come with me. Be my guide.” Miska squirmed and twisted, but though the rest of Myringa's body shuddered with spasms, that hand stayed fast.
"I'll get help...” Lindi edged toward the stairs, then jumped back with a cry of alarm. Gerun surged through the doorway with Kimo slung, kicking, over his shoulder. The other two Thorns dragged Abri between them. The P'raptoi had been gagged with a scrap of black cloth, and whatever curses he might have flung at the Steel Thorns were muffled. He kept a death's-grip on his staff, and wielded it with wicked effect. His captors stumbled and cursed with every step.
"Lady Myringa, we caught ‘em! Near the Temple...” Gerun stopped short, gaping at the sight of his mistress crouched on the floor, staring at a point just
beyond his head.
"I see them,” Myringa babbled. “So bright! I see them..."
"What'd you Imps do to Lady Myringa?” Gerun swung Kimo off his back and shook the boy like an empty sack. “You little devil, I'll turn you inside out!"
"No, no.” Myringa shook a wobbly finger at the man. “I promised the boy we'd find his mother. He's been naughty, but I'll keep my word.” She beckoned to Kimo. “Come here, little one. Let Gerun give you just a little bit of the flower drink."
"But ... Miska said that's how Mami ... died,” Kimo protested. “And you look sick."
"I'm not sick.” Myringa staggered to her feet. “I'm going to your Second World. You've been there. You know it's safe. Come on now, there's a good boy."
"Look at Kimo's hands!” said Miska. “If he Crosses now, he'll never get out."
"I drank it myself, and I haven't died.” Myringa smiled at Miska, challenging the Kankenni with a look. “Didn't I?"
Miska swallowed. “You drank Impsbane, Lady Myringa, but..."
"And I see the little lights. I can find Thanli now. I just need guides. Help me, boys.
Gerun, the bearded man, and the man with the backbone bracelets advanced on them. All three men wore thin steel bands on their index fingers, and on each band glittered a thorn, slick-tipped with Impsbane.
"You killed my Mami! Don't touch me!” Kimo hurled himself at Gerun, who caught him easily and stabbed a thorn deep into the boy's arm. Kimo whimpered, and crumpled to the floor.
"Miska, stop them!” Lindi shrieked. She dashed toward Kimo, and the bearded man felled her with another thorn. The girl staggered and slumped against Myringa's worktable.
Miska looked around frantically. Myringa sprawled on the floor, her fingers twitching. Kimo lay curled into a ball. Only the Steel Thorns, and Abri, were still standing. The man with the silver bracelets circled Abri, who held him at bay with his staff. Over the top of the gag, the P'raptoi's eyes flashed gold fury. The Human's thin smile spread across his face.
"I remember you, Imp. Or at least that stick of yours. All you little guys had them, last time. Even the one we stuck. Where is she now, Imp? Did you get yourself a new girlfriend?"
Slowly, Miska edged toward Kimo. If she could carry the boy ... if she could wake Lindi ... if she could get them both away before the Humans noticed, and Abri could Worldwalk home...
As though she'd spoken aloud, Abri's tormenter looked up, straight into her eyes.
"Hey, Gerun! Stick the redhead!"
"Don't move, love!” Miska shouted. “I'm all right.” It was too late; Abri turned for just a fraction of a second, and the man struck. Abri stiffened, and his hands opened. Miska froze. Something stung her shoulder. Abri fell slowly, so slowly, and yet she couldn't move. The last thing Miska heard, as the Solid World faded, was Abri's Guardian's staff clattering to the stone floor.
Chapter 16
Miska looked around. The walls still towered over them, but now they shone blindingly white. Motes sparked beams in every direction, making it almost impossible to see the Solid World they'd left behind. She could barely see the others—even Abri's ribbons and Lindi's bright dress looked pale and insubstantial in that relentless light.
Everyone was awake now. Abri scattered the gag into Motes with a contemptuous wave of his hand. He spat.
"Cowards! They caught us as soon as we stepped back to the Solid World. I doubt the Humans in your Temple even saw us.” Abri grimaced. “What has this woman done? Does she have all the Motes in the world gathered here?” He rubbed at his temples.
"Your hands, Love,” Miska said. “I can see through them."
He looked. “Yours, too."
She looked down at her own hands. They looked as tenuous as Kimo's had—and Kimo himself now looked like a cowering wraith. Wordlessly, Lindi and the three Kankenni clustered together, seeking to lend each other solidity in this emptiness. And the strange place was empty. Tables, shelves, flasks and potions—all were gone. Only the coffin remained, shining like a diamond in its sea of candles, their flames dimmed alongside the shining Motes.
Myringa, on the other hand, didn't seem at all intimidated by the passage between worlds. She scarcely seemed to notice the change; she flew straight toward the glass coffin and threw herself on it. Miska looked up just in time to see the Human woman's expression change from triumphant joy, to shock, to dismay. With shaking hands, Myringa unfastened the transparent lid and flung it back. Miska tiptoed up behind Myringa and peered over her shoulder.
The coffin was empty.
"Thanli.” Myringa moaned. She whirled around and, seeing Miska, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Where is he? What have you Imps done with my Thanli?"
"But ... he wouldn't be here, Lady Myringa. He's died. We told you..."
"Don't lie to me!” Myringa shook her harder. “I saw Bobcat vanish. This is Bobcat's Second World. Don't you tell me it's not!"
"It is, Lady Myringa, but..."
"But your Thanli is in the Last World,” said Abri. “Beyond this one."
"Like Mami,” Kimo whispered.
Myringa shook her head, not looking at them.
"Let go of my betrothed, Human. We can't bring someone back from the dead."
Myringa's grip loosened. Miska slipped away from her, and still the woman didn't move.
"You said you could!” Kimo wailed. “You said you'd bring back Mami!"
Miska came toward him, stopping short when Kimo turned his back on her.
"No one can do that, Kimo,” she said. “I'm sorry. Please, let us take you home."
Kimo raised his head and looked at her, his eyes enormous, his face so pale that Miska's heart nearly stopped.
"I'm scared,” he whimpered. “And I'm dizzy again."
"I hate to interrupt,” added Lindi, “but so am I. I don't think I can help Kimo this time."
Miska felt more than a little dizzy herself. She looked at Abri. He was holding himself proudly before Myringa, but his lips were white.
"We have to get back to the Solid World quickly. Kimo, let Abr ... Let Kestrel help you. Lindi, take my hand.” They obeyed.
"Can you see our bodies, love? Can you pull us back into them? I didn't think I'd slipped so far in, but the Motes are so strong ... something's pulling..."
"But I don't want you to leave.” Myringa smirked. “The boys have their orders—and more Impsbane. They'll send you back, again and again, until you behave.” She fumbled in her billowing skirts, and brought out another stoppered bottle. “I have enough Impsbane for hundreds of you little folks."
Abri dropped Kimo's hand and lunged to knock Myringa over. But stout, solid Myringa was not Lindi, to be caught off guard, or Juliar, to be easily thrown off balance. And Abri was without his staff. Myringa easily fended him off, never losing her grip on the bottle. She grabbed Abri by the arm, pinning him against her chest.
"If Thanli isn't here,” continued Myringa as though she'd never been interrupted, “you'll just have to take me to where he is."
"Look at Kimo!” Miska burst out. “Yesterday, you were calling him your son. If you don't get him back to the Solid World, he'll fade. He'll become Motes. We all will. And you will too."
Myringa shrugged. “It's your own fault. Thanli and I would gladly adopt him—but if you won't help me rescue Thanli, well..."
"I don't want to fade,” Kimo whimpered. “I'm scared."
With every second, Kimo's shape looked more tenuous; a transparent shadow fading in the light of the Motes. Miska grabbed one of his hands. Lindi took the other.
"Push them away!” Miska directed the girl. “Like you did with the eggs, only in reverse. Push the Motes away from Kimo."
Lindi managed a faint, trembling whistle. The Motes barely stirred. Miska added a stronger melody, but the tiny lights only swirled in lazy circles.
"It's not helping.” Lindi waved her hands at the Motes in futile shooing gestures. “It ... wait. Look!"
Like a river of stars, the Motes
gathered themselves and flowed away, vanishing somewhere beyond the edge of their vision.
"What is it, Miska? The Motes are leaving, but it's cold.” Lindi called, her voice trembling. “Are you doing that? I'm not!"
It was colder, as though the Motes took all warmth with them as they drained away.
"The Elders,” Abri groaned. “We've been gone too long. They're starting to withdraw. They're calling all the Motes they can reach, to help them Worldwalk."
Myringa dropped Abri and stared after the retreating Motes. Abri gave a cry of alarm. His shape blurred, shrank, spread wings—and a kestrel arrowed past them and disappeared. Lindi looked up in astonishment.
"What happened?"
"He's gone to warn the Elders. If Lady Myringa finds them, she'll use the Impsbane on them, to make them take her to the Last World. It will kill them. And without the Elders, all the Kankenni will die."
"Bring them back!” Myringa screeched. “What are you Imps doing? Bring the lights back. I will call them all to myself!"
"It feels like the Motes are pulling on me!” Lindi exclaimed, squirming as though she felt the tickling feet of a thousand ants.
"I feel it too,” Miska said. Nothing was really pulling on her, in the sense of grabbing her arms or legs. The sensation came from within, as though every cell in her body strained in one direction. She felt as though she were being pulled through honey.
"I can't breathe,” Lindi panted.
The air felt thicker, heavier. Miska dragged in each breath, never quite getting enough air. Motes sparkled at the edge of her vision. She caught hold of Lindi's arm with one hand, and grabbed Kimo with the other.
"Hold on...” she said, just as the laboratory vanished.
* * * *
Miska rubbed her eyes. She was sprawled on a stone floor, taking in deep breaths of rosemary-scented air, feeling the cold creep into her legs. Lindi lay beside her, looking like a sleeping child. Blue light played over the girl's face and body.
"Are we dead?” said Kimo's trembling voice from behind her. “Miska, don't let them throw me in the garbage!"
She stood up, and Kimo clung to her legs. Gently, she pried his fingers loose and turned around.