by Melissa Mead
"Don't be frightened—it's what you did in Elder Doria's library, only farther, and you weren't looking at yourself then."
"Come with us, cousin.” Abri walked backward a few steps along the silver path, like a father coaxing a child to toddle. Lindi followed. Miska came behind her, hiding the sight of their evanescent bodies by skipping in and out across Lindi's line of sight every time the girl glanced backward.
They'd nearly reached Myringa's house when the sky darkened. Evergreen needles yellowed and dropped, leaving bare branches skeletal against the cliffs and scattering dead twigs across their path. Down the center of the path charged an animal—a ragged coyote, tongue lolling over its white teeth. Miska pushed Lindi behind her, and Abri readied his staff, but the wretched animal skidded to a halt almost at their feet, looked up at them with frantic gold eyes, and howled.
"Miska! Abri!"
"What in the name of the Wondermaker?” Abri began, but Miska dropped to her knees and gripped the creature by the scruff of the neck.
"Kimo! Come back to your own body. Now!"
"I can't! I don't know h ... ho ... how...!” The words shivered into a plaintive, drawn out howl.
"Help me, Abri. I think I know what's happened. If he stays much longer, we'll lose him. But I can't pull him back by myself."
Abri took hold of Kimo. “This is going to be a hard Crossing,” he warned the shivering pup.
Miska turned to Lindi, standing shaken in the middle of the path.
"Lindi, we'll have to go into our bodies sooner than we thought,” Miska told the bewildered girl. “Put your hand on my arm, and don't make any sudden moves."
"Ready?” said Abri. “One ... Two ... Three."
Miska had only a few sickening seconds to wonder if they would be torn apart, and where they might all be flung. But this time, Kimo was too limp with terror to pull them awry, and Lindi never moved. The backlash of reentering their solid bodies only flung them down hard before Myringa's back door.
In the Solid World, Kimo once again looked like a wild, half-grown Kankenni boy, in torn and filthy white livery. His black hair ribbon had turned yellow. He lay curled on the grass, whimpering. When Miska and Abri tried to help him up, he snarled at them, still sounding more than half canine.
"What happened? Are you all right?” Lindi took a cautious step toward him, holding out her hand the way she had with Lady Myringa's terrified chevrals.
Kimo looked up at her, frozen. He sniffed, doglike, and tipped his head to one side. His expression went blank, for just a second. He shuddered, as though shaking off a heavy blanket, and scrambled to his feet. The panic was gone, but he was still wary.
"You'd better not touch me, Human!” he warned. “Abri will hit you with his staff!” He looked sideways at Abri. “Won't you?"
"Of course not! Where are your manners? Come on—out of sight, quickly.” Abri motioned them all behind a mass of wintered-over rhododendrons. Lindi sat on a relatively clean rock, rearranging her skirts to avoid the worst of the mud. The Kankenni pressed back into the greenery, heedless of dripping leaves.
"And how did you Worldwalk—in another form—all by yourself?” Miska asked. Kimo looked drawn, too tense, even for him. His fingers twitched, and he startled at the touch of a stray breeze. He looked at Miska through hooded eyes.
"Mami taught me."
Miska kept her voice as soft, as gentle, as possible. “Now, Kimo, your Mami's dead. She's gone to the Last World."
"No, stupid,” said Kimo, his voice heavy with adolescent scorn. “My new Mami."
"Lady Myringa?” Lindi blurted. “What could she know?"
"Your ‘new Mami’ doesn't Worldwalk, Kimo,” said Abri. “The Elders would have spotted her, the way they found Lindi."
"No, she doesn't Worldwalk.” Kimo frowned. “But she knows the big secret, the one nobody would tell me. So there!” He smirked.
"What are you talking about?” Abri demanded.
"The flower drink. The one that makes the Motes do what you tell them to."
"Impsbane!” Miska startled. “Kimo, did she give you something to eat that smelled like flowers?"
Kimo nodded. “But Mami Myri said I didn't need to chew on any nasty old roots. She made a drink, with lots of sugar in it. She said if I drink it, and practice, I'll be the best Worldwalker ever."
"But how could she know about the Second World? Why would she touch Impsbane at all?"
"She must have thought it was a new perfume,” Lindi giggled.
"Don't laugh at Mami Myri!” Kimo snapped. He began to pace, in a tight circle. “I'm learning how to Worldwalk by myself now. And I'll be so good at it, I'll go into the Last World, and bring my first Mami back."
"Oh, Kimo,” Miska said. “I'm so sorry, but it doesn't work that way."
"You're wrong!” Kimo stamped his foot.
"Kimo, if it could be done, I'd bring back Ta...” She stopped. Kimo didn't know Tanrin was dead. “I'd bring back my Doddi Jakki, and the Elder Historian ... and your Mami, too. But Worldwalking's not like that. And if you drink Impsbane, you may get lost in the Second World. You nearly were just now. Do you remember what happened?"
"You're just saying that because you're no good at Worldwalking. I told Mami Myri you're not.” But he shook his ragged head, as though trying to forget a nightmare. “I Worldwalked all by myself. I ran...” He shook himself again.
"Why were you running?” Miska prompted.
"The big men, the Humans ... They came to the house, and they were yelling at Mami. It's because of the cheese.” He stopped, and looked at Abri, pleading. “I didn't trade for it. I know the P'raptoi always trade, but I was really hungry. I just took it. When I took the cheese, the big Human yelled at me, and tried to grab me, so I kicked him and ran. Then the next day I went into a tent, and I found some cakes, but the Human with the lion-stick caught me. But I got away!"
"His name's Juliar, and he would never had hurt you,” said Miska. “Go on."
"He scared me.” Kimo turned away from her. “But when I ran away from him, the cheese man and the hairy man and the bone-snake man chased me."
Now Kimo's face lit up. “I ran right into my new Mami. She bought me candy, and asked me where my Mami and Dadi were. I said they were dead. She said I could come home with her, and she asked me if I had any more brothers or sisters. I said no; just cousins."
Miska and Abri exchanged alarmed glances. Kimo rambled on.
"Mami Myri's been really nice to me. She took me home, and she made the flower drink, so I'd be able to make trading-stones by myself. I practiced.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “I saw you sleeping, Miska! I Worldwalked into the Human's Healing Cavern, and you never caught me!"
"That was you, Kimo, coming through the wardrobe? You frightened a lot of people, you know."
He shrugged. “Mami Myri said I should find you. For practice. She said if I made lots of trading-stones for the men, they'd leave me alone. But they came to the house, and I heard them shouting about ‘Lots of Imps.’ I hid. When I came out, Mami was gone."
Kimo looked up at them both, his face panicky. “I can't find her anywhere! I looked all over the house, and she's not there. I thought maybe I could find her if I went into the Second World, so I drank a lot of the flower drink, and I Crossed. I changed into a hunting-beast, and I hunted and hunted, but I can't find her anywhere, and I feel funny inside, and I'm scared!"
"What is this flower drink?” Abri wanted to know.
"There's a root ... the Humans call it Impsbane. It brings the Second World closer.” Miska frowned. “What I don't know is how Lady Myringa got any of it."
"You know what it is, Abri.” Kimo wrung his hands, grimacing as though they hurt him. “Mami Myri says all the grownups must know, because they can Worldwalk and children can't."
"I've never heard of it,” said Abri.
"There is no secret,” Miska agreed. “The Motes just don't work with people until they're grown. You can ask the Elders more when y
ou're safely home."
"And we'll set Lady Myringa straight, when we find her,” Lindi added.
Abri stopped short, and shook his head. “We have to take Kimo home now, Cousin Lindi. It could take days to find this Human woman, and we haven't much time. Can't your Temple look for her?"
"But I don't want to go home!” Kimo cried. “I want to find Mami Myri, and Worldwalk, and bring my other Mami back.” He grimaced, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"What's the matter with your fingers, Kimo?” said Lindi.
The boy made a face. “They sting. Like bees. And the Motes are too bright. They're making me dizzy.” He held out both hands to Miska. “Make them stop."
"Let me see.” Gently, Miska took his hands in hers. They were cold. In full sunlight, she could almost see the outline of his bones. “Lindi, can you help? Take some of the Motes away from him."
"Humans can't do that.” Kimo scoffed.
Lindi smiled—a smile of pure triumph. For just a moment, Miska wondered if Savrona had felt this wash of pleasure the first time her part-Human pupil told a History in Mote-pictures, by herself. “This Human can!"
As the Motes receded, Kimo's eyes got wider and wider.
"How can you do that? Did Miska give you the flower drink too?"
"I can do magic without it,” she said airily. She picked up a pebble, tossed it from hand to hand, and frowned when it remained a pebble. “Well, sometimes.” She put the pebble in her pocket.
"I would never give anyone the flower drink.” Miska added. She looked into Kimo's eyes, then down again at those slender, translucent fingers. “I'm no Elder, Kimo. But I think you feel funny because you're still a little bit inside the Second World."
"So I'll go back in, and come out again, all the way."
"No! Impsbane—your flower drink—I think it will pull you so far into the Second World, we won't be able to get you back out again."
"He'll have to Cross if we're to get him home, Dearest.” Abri paced, keeping behind shrubs and casting glances at the house and toward the street.
"He mustn't—we'll lose him."
"We have to do something, or we'll all be trapped here."
"Find Mami Myri,” Kimo urged. “She knows about the flower drink. She'll help. And she needs us. I'll bet the cheese man's got her tied up. Please, Abri. I'll help you make lots of trading stones. Then maybe they'll let her go. Please, Miska."
"She may be able to help, love.” Miska moved to halt Abri's anxious pacing, touched his hand gently. “Besides, the trading rules demand it."
"They don't say anything about rescuing foolish Humans.” Abri shook her hand off, but she recaptured it.
"Gerun—Kimo's cheese man—he might have done the same with me, when I first came, if Juliar and Lindi hadn't helped me. It's a fair trade."
Abri looked up at the stark walls and staring windows of Lady Myringa's house. He shuddered, and tightened his grip on his P'raptoi's staff.
"Come, then. But we should hurry."
* * * *
"Hello?” Lindi called. “Lady Myringa?” They'd rung the bell, tried the front door, and even peeped into the windows, without meeting so much as a gardener. The only sign of life on the grounds was Lady Myringa's “Unicorns,” huddled in pens in a stinking shed, wild with hunger and thirst. Forgetting their hurry and dread of being seen, Miska and Lindi hunted up water and grain for the famished animals, while Abri combed their tangled manes. Lindi's bright dress now bore grass stains. All four of them itched from chaff and grain dust.
"The poor things! Did you see their ribs?” Lindi looked about to cry.
"Juliar said Lady Myringa always takes care of them,” Miska remarked, “but..."
"Look!” Abri whispered, pointing.
The scullery door stood open, just the tiniest crack.
"Let's go in!” Forgetting his fear of Lindi, Kimo gave her a push. “Hurry up, Human girl."
"Lindi,” she corrected. “Are you always so rude?” Still, she opened the door. “This is all very rude, you know. It's not nice to sneak through people's back doors."
"Even when no one's home?” Miska slipped gently past her. “Listen. How still."
So still that not even the dust, drifting through sunbeams like lifeless Motes, stirred. A cloying taste of perfume stained the air. The light tap of Abri's staff on the stone flags struck echoes in the far corners. Dust sifted over everything: cold hearths, chairs and lamps, a dry loaf of bread on the kitchen table, the thick carpets that cushioned their feet as they crept into the finer parts of the house.
"It's like no one lives here at all,” Lindi whispered, her voice loud in the silence.
"This is where you've been living all this time, Kimo?” Miska looked around. The rooms were all elaborately papered in flowered designs, carpeted in intricately-worked plush, shaded with rich velvet hangings—but empty, bare of not only decorations, but furniture.
"Just in one part—this way.” Kimo beckoned them down a corridor. “Mami says the house is too big for just one person. Two, with me."
"But there must be servants,” said Lindi. “A housekeeper or cook, at least."
Kimo shrugged. He lead them into a suite of rooms: a sitting room, papered and draped in pink, a bedroom in deeper rose, dominated by a vast feather bed, and, directly off this, a closet-sized antechamber, with a small bed and washstand. “All my own,” said Kimo, puffing out his thin chest.
"What about this room?” Miska pointed at a tall mahogany door at the end of the hall.
"That's Mami's special room. She said I'm not to go in there. She goes in there a lot, but it's always locked.” Kimo rattled the knob. “Mami?” He banged on the door, shook the knob harder.
"I can open this.” Miska extracted a pin from one of her pockets, twisted it in the lock until it clicked, and the door swung open. Kimo pushed in beside her, trying to see into the forbidden room.
"Where'd you learn that?” asked Lindi.
"Juliar taught me."
"Of course,” Lindi murmured. “He ... My goodness! What's that?"
"That” was a curtained niche. The curtains were tied back, framing a small table with a candle at each corner; two white and two indigo. The table held a saucer of aromatic powder and a large framed portrait. Miska moved closer to study it.
Miska couldn't tell if the man in the picture was angry, or simply concentrating. A small crease marred the smoothness of his forehead, as though he were trying to keep a habitual scowl out of his portrait. His dark eyes stared into hers, so lifelike they made her uneasy. Black hair shot with white shadowed his angular face.
"Why isn't he smiling?” Miska wondered aloud.
"I'll bet that's Thanli in the picture,” said Lindi. “I wonder if Lady Myringa painted it."
"What is this?” Miska dipped a finger in the bowl, and sniffed at the powder. Spicy, but not a spice she wanted to taste. The odor alone made her head buzz.
"Powdered incense.” Lindi moved closer, careful not to touch anything on the table. “It's like Lady Myringa's made a shrine to him.” The Kankenni looked blank. “A little Temple."
"It hasn't been disturbed.” Abri noted. Just then, a cloud-shadow crossed the window. Startled, Abri took a step backward, and the foot of his staff struck the floor with a hollow thump.
All three Kankenni's heads turned toward the sound.
"What is it?” Lindi whispered.
"Sh!” Miska came to Abri's side and listened as he rapped the wooden floor, tapping gently in a precise grid. Tap ... Tap ... Tap ... Thump.
"There!” Miska seized the nearest corner of the carpet and pulled. It folded back easily, revealing a door set into the floorboards.
"Doddi Jakki said he had a cellar, once,” said Miska, doubtfully. “Perhaps Lady Myringa is storing ... jam?"
"Then why is it hidden? Cellar doors aren't secret!” Lindi danced with excitement. “Open it!"
"Cousin Lindi!” Abri planted a foot firmly on the door. “Even little children
know better than to rush into strange caverns alone.” Lindi hung her head, but Miska recognized the smile in his eyes before it reached his mouth. “Fortunate that you're not alone, yes? But let Miska and I go first."
It took Abri and Miska together to raise the trapdoor. It fell back with a thud, and a puff of warm air rushed out. Abri knitted his brows, and waved the others back.
"Warm? That shouldn't be. Something doesn't feel right."
"Or smell right,” Kimo put in from behind them. “It doesn't even smell like rocks."
Miska sniffed. He was right. This wasn't a cavern scent—even an inhabited cavern. Not damp stone, not fungus ... something warm and familiar, and completely out of place. Recognition dawned. It was the scent of the Prayer Room, coming from deep underground. Miska looked back toward the others.
"Candle wax!” she exclaimed. “Melting candles!"
Faint light flickered on the tunnel walls. “Lots of them,” she added.
"Why don't they use Mote-light?” asked Kimo.
"Humans can't. They need things like candles to see even when it's the slightest bit dim."
"Then Mami must be down there!” Kimo bounded down three steps before Abri collared him.
"Hush!” The P'raptoi held up a warning finger. “No one person—even a Human—needs so many candles. That much light is more likely from lanterns, or torches. For many people. Do you want to run straight into those Steel Thorns?"
"But maybe they've got Mami down there!"
"All the more reason to go carefully. Come on, then."
Wait,” Miska said. “Lindi, you don't need to come. You can wait here until we come back.” She stopped, and shuddered. “If we don't come back, you can go to the Temple, so they will know what's happened. It might be best if Kimo stayed with you, too."
"She's my Mami!” Kimo tried to push past them, but Abri held him too firmly.
"And I'm not staying up here alone!” Lindi declared.
Miska sighed. “All right, then."
They crept downward, not in the natural meandering paths of the caverns, but straight down. Down flight after flight of stone steps, until the very air pressed on them like a heated weight. Out of habit, Abri took the lead. Miska followed. Kimo nearly stepped on her heels in his attempts to keep away from Lindi, just behind him.
