Between Worlds

by Melissa Mead

  "Let me.” Midyora laid a hand on the mirror. The glass cleared. Behind her, Miska heard Juliar's sudden indrawn breath. Nurse Dannae's mirror now showed rounded walls and a stone dais pillowed with golden flowers. Midyora flicked the glass with a fingernail, and chiming, both deeper and higher than the Temple bells, echoed through the room.

  "That should catch their attention,” Midyora chuckled.

  Sure enough, within moments the other Elders appeared one by one: Ilion scowling, Olean looking alarmed, Lorna bewildered, and Avoca triumphant. Whatever Midyora had done had made the mirror carry sound as well as visions. Avoca's voice carried clearly.

  "Are you coming home, Midyora? It will be difficult, but I think we can manage it. For you, at least,” she added pointedly. “But hurry—the Mirror showed the hunters coming this way. We're the last to leave."

  "No, Avi,” said Midyora with a sad smile. “I made my choice, and I'm staying. But I need you to bring Miska back. She's Mote-burnt, more than I can cure by myself."

  Miska had been drinking in the sight of the cavern. Now she drew in a deep breath.

  "No."

  "What? Child, you have to get home!"

  "No. If I run, the other humans will think I killed Lady Myringa. They'll start hunting the Kankenni. They'll come after Lindi. I'm staying."

  Lorna's hand flew to her mouth. Olean's jaw dropped. Ilion and Avoca exchanged nods.

  "Well, if that's your choice..."

  Avoca started to turn away, and two figures nearly bowled her over. “Miska! Wait!"

  Miska stared. Abri! Forgetting the glass barrier, she reached forward. “Dearest! Why are you still there? And how did you find the Elder's Mirror?"

  "Didn't you ever take the dare? Never mind. I wanted you to know I didn't run—and we had to see you."

  He motioned behind him, and Illyana stepped forward, hesitant, with the baby on her arm.

  "We heard what you said.” Illyana's eyes were enormous under the fringe of her white hair. “Won't you come home?"

  Miska blinked her stinging eyes. “You heard—I couldn't risk that."

  Illyana's shoulders slumped. The baby whimpered. Illyana held her daughter up to the Mirror. A scar ran along the girl's cheek, but her golden eyes were bright, and she kicked vigorously.

  "We named her Tania,” said Illyana, her voice quavering. “After her father."

  The baby studied Miska carefully, and reached out a tiny hand. “Ba!” she exclaimed.

  "Very good, Little Cousin! How strong you've gotten!"

  Illyana smiled, just a little. Suddenly, her eyes widened. She stiffened, and edged away.

  "Illyana? Cousin?"

  Still backing away, she pointed at the grey-cloaked figure behind Miska. Juliar had come closer to smile at the baby.

  "I'm sorry—didn't mean to eavesdrop,” he said. “Excuse me."

  "Juliar! No, wait, Cousin. It's all right, really. He's not ... one of those Humans."

  Illyana was shaking, little Tania clutched tight to her chest. Juliar's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

  "I'm sorry, Miska—I didn't realize."

  "That human's no Thorn,” Abri added, with a grim smile.

  "He...” Illyana's voice was a harsh whisper. “He's carrying a P'raptoi's staff!"

  Juliar stood listening with his head cocked slightly to one side, trying to understand the Kankenni accent. He followed Illyana's gaze.

  "This ... P'raptoi ... ah, yes. I know what an honor it is to carry it, ma'am."

  Illyana relaxed a little in her curiosity and wonder. She ventured closer, tilting her head back to look the young Human in the eyes. “Illyana,” she corrected him. She turned to Abri. “Is he really a P'raptoi?"

  "In a sense,” said Abri. “The staff was mine.” He turned his attention to Juliar. “Do you know what that means, human?"

  "Enough to know I should thank you,” Juliar replied.

  "I wouldn't part with anything dear to me unless I knew it was in good hands,” said Abri. He turned to Miska. “You've made your choice, then?"

  Miska gestured toward the baby, snuggling in her mother's arms. “We both need to be certain she's safe."

  "Thank you, cousin,” said Illyana.

  Abri nodded. He touched his right hand to his temple, then his heart, and the mirror went dark.

  Miska sat on the edge of the infirmary bed, with her head in her hands.

  "What did that mean,” she heard Juliar whisper to Midyora, “about both of them making sure the baby was in good hands?"

  Miska looked Juliar in the eye. “I'm outside the Caverns now. As far as the Elders are concerned, I don't exist. Illyana is a widow, because of the Thorns. A widow with a young child must remarry. And a P'raptoi would always be their first choice."

  "And Abri would agree to that?” Juliar turned to confront Midyora, so suddenly he jarred the bed. “He..."

  "He would have no choice,” the old healer snapped. “It's his duty as a P'raptoi. Unruffle your feathers, young man. Why do you think he gave you his P'raptoi's staff?"

  "Well, because...” Juliar dropped down next to Miska, slow understanding dawning in his face. “But..."

  "I don't understand,” said Lindi. “Why did Abri do that? Is Juliar a P'raptoi now too?"

  "In a sense.” Midyora smiled. “Come with me, Lindi. I promised to show you button-flies."

  Vedi Sharanis raised a hand. “I have a better idea. Come to Myringa's laboratory. It's Temple property again, and if all your ... people share Miska's love of ‘live stone’ walls, perhaps you might feel more at home there."

  A slow smile spread across Midyora's face. “A fine idea, Elder Vedi! We'll turn that into a wonderful home, with time. Come, Lindi."

  Silence filled the Infirmary.

  "They can't give you to me, Miska!” Juliar burst out.

  "It's not quite that,” Miska murmured. “But it does mean the Kankenni trust you.” Once again, she sat with her face hidden.

  "Will they be safe, now?” Juliar asked at last. “Somewhere where Gerun and his gang can't find them?"

  "I don't know.” Miska looked up at him. “At least the Thorns can't follow me to ... wherever the others have gone.” Her eyes stung. She slid off the bed, feeling dazed, and leaned on the windowsill. Green leaves softened the twilight outline of the trees, hid the rooftops in shadow. Beyond them lay the hills, empty now. And beyond that ... Somewhere out there were Abri, and Illyana and Tania, and...

  Juliar came softly up beside her, not too close. “I'm sorry."

  She looked at him, puzzled. “Are you, truly?"

  He laughed—a sudden, surprised laugh. “Well, maybe not completely!"

  Miska smiled. “Then I'm not completely sorry, either."

  She took Juliar's hand in hers, and waited for the stars to come out.

  * * *

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