Thresholds

by Kiriki Hoffman, Nina

  Gwenda touched her arm. Benjamin smiled. Rowan frowned less.

  “I can’t—live with you and do what you all do, though. The special food, the classes, whatever it is you do I don’t know about yet. I need to live with my own family. All right?”

  “We would not expect you to. There are some things you should learn, and you’ll need—” Harper broke off. “We need to negotiate. I will accept your yes as a yes, details to be decided upon later, to the benefit of all. Welcome to the family, cousin.” He kissed her cheek and then the ring he had given her the night before.

  He led her forward. All the beings had been waiting quietly. Harper nudged Maya to stand in front of him, and he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Council, may I present our new and accidental cousin? This is Maya, who through mishap became the bond-sister of one of the missing sissimi. Maya, will you show them the bonded one?”

  Egglet, are you all right with being seen?

  I don’t know what “seen” is. Does it hurt?

  No, she said, and wondered. She unbuttoned her cuff and turned back her sleeve, revealing her egg and its inner lights, glowing greens and blues with sparks of yellow.

  Some of the creatures made noises. A few leaned forward and thrust parts of themselves toward her. She heard a hummingbird flutter: a fairy scudded through the air and hovered just above the egg, reached down a slender arm to touch Maya’s skin, and left a tiny gold fingerprint. It was not the fairy she had seen before, the one who had started this chain of events that led to Maya standing here, in a hidden courtyard, surrounded by otherworlders. Its hair was pale instead of dark, and its features were different. It looked up at her face. Then it rose past her, gilt dust fluttering from its wings to settle across her shoulders. It sang something as it flew, then came to rest in a flower the size of a salad plate on one of the otherworldly shrubs.

  A creature in a bubble reshaped itself so that it was taller, and said in a warm and melodious voice, “We all congratulate you on this auspicious addition to your family, Istar Harper, and we thank you for bringing these troubling new developments to our attention. We will continue to monitor activity along the portalways and inform each other of any suspicious traffic. Our cogitators will reflect on how to detect unsanctioned activity. Now, if it can be arranged, I am ready to return to my own portal.”

  Other creatures shifted position and added their own kinds of noises.

  Harper said, “Thank you again, Maya. We have a lot to discuss, and time to discuss it. Excuse me while I see my guests out.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  He patted her and went toward a wide archway across the courtyard where most of the guests were heading.

  One of the guests, a tall, slender woman in slate gray clothes with creases that looked as though they could cut, lingered, then came closer. She appeared almost human, though her skin was a grayish rose color, and her eyes were black without whites. A complicated black and silver scarf, looped in on itself so it looked like a cloth chain, wound around her shoulders and draped over her head, not quite concealing the fact that she was bald.

  “I Ara-Kita Zizillian am,” she said to Maya. “You, I, necessary to interact.”

  Maya looked at Gwenda, whose eyes were wide. Gwenda shook her head, as though she didn’t know any more about this than Maya did.

  Rowan stepped in front of Maya, facing Ara-Kita. “Traveler,” he said. “Explain, please?”

  “Keeper,” she replied. “I Force am. Crimes division. Matter of the missing sissimi, information to pursue.”

  Rowan turned to Maya. “She’s the police.”

  Maya took a deep breath. The egg-induced calm was still with her, so she didn’t feel fear, just detached curiosity as she wondered whether she was about to be arrested. Where did portal people keep criminals?

  “I’ve already told everything I know,” Maya said, her voice level.

  Ara-Kita nodded. “Heard. Wish embryo to interrogate.” “What?” Maya cupped her hand over the egg and stepped back.

  “Only a moment it takes. Kita to it talks.” The black and silver scarf lifted a snakelike end, complete with a knob that could be a head, and swayed in the air, as though surveying Maya.

  “Traveler Zizillian,” Rowan said, “you speak with a member of my clan. Have you cleared this request with our istar?”

  “Not formalized. Only a moment the questions take. No harm.”

  “Traveler,” said Rowan, “I mean no disrespect. Come back when you have cleared this request, please.”

  The solid black eyes stared at Rowan, and the eyeless snake-head stilled to focus on him as well. After a concentrated moment, both heads bobbed. “Will. Kita greetings to little kin sends.”

  “Kin?” Maya said.

  Ara blinked. She lifted a seven-fingered hand, and the snake-head lowered to rest on it. “Kita sissimi is,” she said.

  “A sissimi!” Maya stepped closer, staring and staring.

  The knobby head came nearer, as though it stared, too, though there was nothing on it that looked like eyes. Silver was woven through its black length in intricate patterns. It did not look quite solid. Maya lifted her right hand toward it.

  “Maya, wait,” said Gwenda. “If you grant it permission to touch you, it may interact with you in ways we don’t understand.”

  “But it’s—is this what mine will look like?”

  Ara said, “Every one different comes. Much on partner depends. But sissimi-sissimi without barriers can talk. If yours memories of the theft has, can mine tell.”

  Egg-person, do you want to talk to one of your own kind?

  You are my only kind since I lost my other Other.

  Maya closed her eyes. She felt as though a rosebud were opening in her chest, and at the same time, there was a sad taste in her mouth, the salt of tears. She stroked the egg. Its partner says it is a being like you. I so much want to know more about you, and these people could tell us something. But what if it wants to hurt you?

  We are strong.

  Maya smiled. We don’t know our strength yet. Aloud, she said, “Pleased to meet you, Ara-Kita. I’d like to wait until Harper says it’s okay before my sissimi talks to yours.”

  The snake relooped around Ara’s neck and rested its head on top of her head. Ara bobbed again. “Will arrange.” She turned and followed the others toward the far exit from the courtyard.

  “Rowan, thanks,” Maya said.

  He huffed out a breath. “You’re one of us now, whether I like it or not. We take care of our own. You’ve got a lot to learn before you meet travelers. Which is what I want to talk to Travis about, too. Come on.” He headed toward the glass doors.

  Maya looked at Benjamin, who smiled and shook his head. “He means well.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, smiling.

  “Pretty sure. Let’s go find out if Travis is still here.”

  “So Rowan can give us some more orders?”

  “Right,” said Gwenda. “Hey. Are you hungry?”

  Maya’s stomach growled loudly. “Starving,” she said. “We can fix that.”

  Maya glanced at the half-consumed oddities on plates on the table.

  “Naw, not that. It’s all specific to who’s eating it, and most of it’s poison to us,” said Benjamin. “Let’s go to Rowan’s.”

  NINETEEN

  Rowan’s apartment was different from Benjamin’s. There was no tent drapery, no inlaid fretwork tables. The walls were pale yellow, the furniture upholstered in soft green. The living room looked like it belonged in a sitcom apartment: near normal, except for a bonsai tree on the coffee table and two potted pines in the corners. A small bookshelf held dictionaries and encyclopedias. A framed painting above the couch showed a stormy Oregon coast scene.

  “This is where we bring outsiders,” Gwenda said.

  Travis sat on the couch, his head thrown back, napping. A dish holding nothing but crumbs was on the coffee table in front of him. Kallie worked at a nearby table, something tha
t involved books, paper, and a quill pen. She set her quill down and smiled at Maya. “Are you officially one of us now?”

  “I guess,” said Maya.

  “And Travis is officially giri. Two new people. That is so cool. Sometimes we get sick of each other.”

  Rowan came from an archway that led to the kitchen, which, from what Maya could see, looked showroom fresh. He carried a plate of sliced bread and oranges. “Sit,” he said, waving her toward the couch. “Feed.”

  “Feed?” Maya settled beside Travis, and Rowan placed the plate in front of her. Her stomach growled again; it felt like a raging fire that needed fuel, but she hesitated to snatch food when there was something wrong with Rowan’s verb.

  “Help yourself,” Benjamin said. He and Gwenda sat in chairs across the coffee table from the couch.

  “Why do you have to be so snotty?” Maya asked Rowan.

  He heaved a sigh. “You present problems.”

  “Not on purpose.”

  He slumped in an armchair near the couch. “Granted. Please. Have some food.”

  “Thanks.” Maya ate a slice of bread in three bites. “What is this?” she asked as she reached for a second slice.

  “Plum bread. Mother’s specialty.”

  “It’s delicious.” She ate as slowly as she could manage, which wasn’t very.

  “And nutritious,” said Rowan, “and freighted with palta. Kallie, did you send Travis to sleep?”

  “Nope. He did that all by himself. He’s like a champion sleeper. Two seconds and he’s out.”

  “Travis, wake up, will you?” Rowan said, slightly louder.

  Travis shuddered and sat up. “Huh?” He checked his watch. “Jeez Louise.”

  “How long can you give us?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Good. I accept you both as necessary evils, and, since you’re now part of our extended family, I need to explain some rules to you.”

  “Way to welcome them, Rowan,” said Gwenda.

  He glared at her and continued. “The first rule is silence about all you see in the house, but I guess Great-Uncle Harper took care of that, yes?”

  “Hell, yeah,” said Travis. “He ever do that to you? It’s darned spooky.”

  “Rowan’s never needed discipline,” said Gwenda, “but I have. Silence is one of my least favorites.”

  “The second rule is study,” said Rowan.

  “You guys are like the psychos of the homeschool world, aren’t you?” Travis said. “Except you come to regular school, too. How come you spend any time in regular school if you’re going to spend your whole lives within thirty miles of this place? Couldn’t you learn everything you need to know right here?”

  “We would not learn how to socialize with our neighbors. That’s important at every portal.”

  “Is that what you’re supposed to be doing at school?” asked Travis. “I see Gwenda and Benjamin doing it, but Rowan, you so flunk. And I know from flunking.”

  Rowan straightened, brushed the hair away from his face, and gave Travis a full-throttle two-eyed glare. Maya, glad Rowan was focused elsewhere, finished off the oranges. She’d eaten half a loaf of plum bread—all he brought out. The gnawing in her stomach had gone down to nibbling.

  “Yeah, yeah, glare all you like. Doesn’t change the facts. So anyway, second rule, study. I don’t have time to study. I’m already not studying for school as it is.”

  “Travis,” Gwenda said, “why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why don’t you have time to study? Twyla said you were the smartest person in sixth grade. You did outside projects on Ancient Egypt and Ancient Greece. You built a Parthenon! She said you were planning to be an archaeologist. Then last year, what?”

  Travis leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He frowned at the floor. “Last year,” he said finally, “there was an accident.” His gaze rose, met Maya’s, met Rowan’s, danced away. “Am I going to talk about this? I guess you need to know, or it’ll be nag nag nag. My mom left when I was six, and me and my dad moved in with Oma and Opa. Oma raised me. She’s the one got me studying other civilizations. Now that I know about this giri thing, I guess I understand she was interested in more than just what was going on on Earth.

  “So Opa, also a good guy, but absentminded, last year he was driving Oma home from shopping, and he pulled out right in front of a truck—” He stopped and just breathed. No one spoke. “So, anyway, Opa never came home from that one, and Oma—so, Oma—” His hands closed into fists and he set them on his thighs. “She was hurt bad. She needs twenty-four-hour care, and we can’t afford that. We have a couple nurses that come in during the day while Dad’s at work and I’m at school. I’m supposed to be home at four to take over, and Dad gets home around seven and he helps. I’ve got a dog-walking business I take care of after Dad gets home. Oma tries not to be a burden, but she needs a lot of help, and she doesn’t sleep a lot, and—” He jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to go.”

  He crossed the room and was out the door before anyone could speak.

  “Community service,” Gwenda said when they had sat in silence for a little while.

  Benjamin sat up. “That’s right. She’s our giri, and he’s a giri in training. Jemmy and Alira are studying eldercare, right? They could use some field practice.”

  “Aunt Raia’s a nurse,” Gwenda said. “She could probably help.”

  “Good thinking,” Rowan said in a grumpy voice, “but let’s solve all the world’s problems later. Right now, Maya—”

  “What am I supposed to be studying?” Maya asked.

  “Well,” said Rowan, “there’s a whole curriculum for us, but I don’t know how much of that will be useful to you. We don’t know where your talents will be yet.”

  “Talents?”

  “The skills we need to manage the portals, those are family things, and you probably won’t have any of them, so you won’t need energy theory and harmonics and voice lessons and personal tuning and group alignment, but you should learn some basic skills—”

  “Do you mean, like, training me to work here? I don’t think—” Maya felt walls closing in on her. The egg heated. Red streaks crossed it.

  “No,” said Benjamin. “No, Rowan.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “Did Great-Uncle Harper tell you you were supposed to inform Maya about new responsibilities?”

  “He said tell her about our classes.”

  “You’re not doing that,” Benjamin said. “Maya, we study a lot of stuff. The older people teach the younger whatever they know. When someone shows a talent, they get focused teaching in that direction. What I think you could use, if you want, is a class in Kerlinqua, our special language, and maybe some classes in etiquette so you know acceptable ways to greet travelers.”

  “Joining your family doesn’t mean I have to stay here forever, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “I’d like to learn more languages, and I’d like to know how to behave with—with travelers.”

  “Great,” said Benjamin. “We could even start teaching you some of that at lunch. Here’s what you should know: you don’t have any family responsibilities yet. Just take care of yourself and learn what you can and tell us when you need help.” He turned to Rowan. “Does that cover it?”

  Rowan snorted and looked away.

  “We have study rooms on the second story, where the Elders—and that includes everybody older than us—teach, and where we can practice. We can show you those later. For now, how about I walk you home?”

  “I’d like that.” Maya glanced at her watch and realized it was almost five. “I have to set the table. I’m so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a hundred years.” Her stomach rumbled. “Um. After a snack.”

  When she and Benjamin stepped off the Janus House porch, Maya felt as though a weight lifted from her heart. She had so wanted to know all about the new neighbors. Now she just wanted to go home and pretend she was
normal again.

  “I know,” said Benjamin, even though she hadn’t said anything out loud. “It’s a lot.”

  “You deal with things like that all the time.”

  “We’re used to it. I bet it’s big scary to you.”

  Maya scuffed her shoes on the grass. “Do you have any talents yet?”

  “Nope. No special signs. I’m about average on a lot of stuff.”

  “Do you read minds? Any of you?”

  He shook his head. “I know some travelers who have that talent, but none of the Earth Keepers do.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  Her mother’s car pulled into the driveway just as Maya unlocked the front door. Peter leaped out. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Benjamin, from next door,” Maya said. “Benjamin, my brother Peter, my mom Liz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ben,” said Mom. She put down her briefcase and held out her hand.

  He shook it, smiling. “My pleasure, Mrs. Andersen. Help you with the groceries?”

  “That would be great,” said Mom. She pointed her key fob at the car and beeped the back unlocked. Benjamin headed for the car, and Mom whispered, “What’s with that family? Are they all that polite?”

  “Not all of them,” Maya whispered back. Then she headed toward the car to carry groceries, too.

  “Do you know about creeks around here?” Peter asked Benjamin as they all carried plastic sacks of groceries into the house.

  “Creeks?”

  “Yeah, wild creeks where there are tadpoles and frogs and things? I haven’t seen one near here. Dad said there’d be a creek.”

  “Have you been to Westedge Park yet? There’s a stream there. And there are restored wetlands out west of town, with nature trails in them.”

  “Great! Can you drive yet?”

  “Peter!” cried Mom. Benjamin laughed. They put the grocery sacks on the table, and Peter went to the back door to let Sully in.