Between Worlds

by Melissa Mead

  "The Human girl's crowding me,” he whined.

  "Sh! We're nearly at the bottom.” Miska sniffed. New smells had crept in with the waxen scent—bitter, chemical, metallic smells.

  A few yards ahead of them, Abri turned and beckoned. He stood on level floor at last. A short hallway extended beyond the steps, with an archway at the end.

  "Wait here."

  Kimo stuck out his tongue at her.

  "Lindi, if he moves, you may sit on him.” Miska said, glaring at the boy. Lindi giggled.

  Miska edged along the wall, peeked around the corner, and stared.

  The tunnel opened onto a cavern, larger than the Hall of Illusion. The sides rose up, far beyond her sight, in a nearly perfect circle of smooth black stone. We're like little bugs, thought Miska. Bugs that a child's trapped in a bottle. The feeling was unnervingly familiar, and she couldn't think why. She crept a few cautious steps forward, heard echoing footsteps behind her, and turned. Lindi and Kimo had followed.

  "Look at all this equipment—it's like a chemist's laboratory,” Lindi whispered.

  Clear liquid bubbled over a spirit-lamp, distilling droplets into a silver bowl. A mortar held reddish powder, half ground. Beside it lay a pile of dried and wrinkled roots.

  "Impsbane,” Miska whispered back, pointing. She tiptoed up to the black marble table. Dog-eared books lay open to graphic anatomical illustrations, annotated in fading script. Smoky golden light flickered over everything in the room. It rippled on the pleated walls, spilled over the glassy floor, gleamed off shelves and tables, bottles and flasks. The light came from the center of the far wall, from bank upon bank of indigo and white candles. In the center of this waxen sea rested a glass coffin, pillowed with cushions of midnight blue velvet. Upon the cushions lay a perfectly clean, perfectly white skeleton.

  Chapter 15

  Seen through the rising heat of hundreds of candles, the bones almost seemed to breathe, to sigh.

  "Is it ... alive?” Lindi whispered.

  "No, not yet.” The voice echoed sadly through the chamber. “Not yet. But isn't he beautiful? Thanli always was so handsome."

  They stared wildly—at each other, at the wavering shadows.

  "Don't be frightened. I'm glad you've come.” The owner of the voice stepped into the candlelight, holding out her hands to them. “Welcome to the Citadel."

  "Lady Myringa?” Miska blinked. In that obsidian, orange-lit cavern, Myringa stood out like a pink peony in a coal mine. Slowly a realization insinuated itself into Miska's thoughts. There was no overpowering odor of perfume. Myringa wasn't wearing her mourning veil. Or her armband. And, now, she actually looked happy.

  "Of course. Kimo, sweetheart, you look so upset. Whatever is the matter?"

  "I thought you were dead! I thought those men were going to throw you in the garbage pit, like ... like...” Kimo ran to his adopted guardian, who smoothed his tousled hair and favored him with a puzzled smile.

  "Throw me in the garbage pit? Whatever gave you that idea? And I'm very much alive, you see. But you're a good boy, to bring your friends looking for me."

  Kimo sniffled. “You're not mad that we went into your special room?"

  "Of course not!” Myringa laughed.

  "We're sorry to disturb you, Elder Myringa,” Miska said. “We were afraid you were in danger from someone named Ossifer."

  Myringa laughed even louder. “But don't you know what the word means? Bone Holder. Keeper of the Bones.” She pointed at the coffin, then at herself. “That's me. I'm Ossifer."

  "You, Lady Myringa? But..."

  She looked at the group. “That reminds me—introductions. How nice of all of you to come down. Miss Salera I know, and I remember the little nurse...” She looked closely at Abri, and her eyes widened. “Bobcat!"

  Abri's face went white. “My name is not Bobcat. But how do you know it?"

  "Don't be silly, Bobcat! I know it's you. You even have that little stick of yours, with the ribbons. What made you decide to come home, after all these years?"

  Miska had been running over the Histories in her mind and a sudden realization chilled her. Bobcat. Braddon, the Elder P'raptoi, who went to the Human city and vanished.

  "This isn't Bobcat, Lady Myringa,” Miska interrupted carefully. “This is my betrothed."

  Miska expected an argument—one of Myringa's tantrums, perhaps, or a flood of tears. Instead, the woman laughed.

  "Oh, of course! Your friend here"—Myringa waved a hand at Abri, who backed away from her—"is much younger. I assume so, anyway. How does one tell with you little folks? Bobcat was grey-haired, even then, and he had an entire rainbow of ribbons in his hair. But he had the stick with the red ribbons on top, and those golden eyes. It's so hard to tell ... Who are you then, little man?"

  "Kestrel,” Abri replied, his voice flat. “Kimo's foster-father. Miska and I are here to take him home."

  Myringa laughed delightedly.

  "What a sweet little fellow you are! How precious. Thanli will be so glad to meet you. Once he's himself again, of course.” She gazed fondly at the skeleton. “Perhaps we'll adopt all of you."

  "Thanli? That...” Miska said. “But he's ... He is dead, you realize, Lady Myringa."

  "Of, I know! His body, at least. It's been such a long time. Fourteen years, two months, and six days. But Thanli learned so much, and I was always with him, you know. He knew all about your Second World, little ones."

  Abri stared at her in complete shock.

  "How could you know...” he began, and then stopped himself.

  "Braddon,” said Miska so quietly that no one else heard.

  "Bobcat, of course! Back when Thanli and I were first working with Impsbane.” Myringa made a sour face. “Dreadful name. I discovered it, you know. But I called it Heart's-blossom. I thought it would make a lovely perfume. But then Bobcat ... appeared in here one day. Poor thing was so thin you could see his backbone through his clothes.” She stopped, appearing to notice for the first time how Miska never moved further than an arm's length from Kimo, how Abri paced, with short, tense steps, between her and the others. Her face clouded over. “Sit down! On the table, on the floor, but for Lady's sakes, sit down!"

  No one sat, and Myringa looked irritated, but continued.

  "He was dreadfully hard to understand, but he said he needed for food for his cousins. Of course, Thanli and I offered him a decent meal—and he insisted on paying for it. With rubies—he just picked them out of the air as though they were cherries!"

  "That's easy,” Kimo piped up. “I can do it myself, now."

  "Well, yes, Kimo, honey. But back then, it was a surprise."

  "What happened to ... Bobcat?” Miska struggled to sound merely curious.

  "Such a nice little fellow! He stayed with us a week or so—here in the lab, of course. It wasn't much to look at, then; just empty space under my old Acolyte's room. No one knew about it, so it was the perfect place to brew essences without neighbors and Authorities complaining of fumes. Hardly homelike, but we couldn't have little Bobcat wandering around up above and stirring up a fuss. Thanli asked him to show us where he got the rubies, and he always refused. Politely, but still, he shouldn't have said no to Thanli like that. Thanli never could bear impudence. So we sent him to bed without supper."

  "You treated an Elder as though he were a naughty child,” said Miska, shaking with anger. Her head throbbed.

  "Exactly! Perfectly reasonable. Well, after about four days little Bobcat tried to steal a snack ... only he took Impsbane. Ate it like a carrot, the whole root.” Myringa shook her head. “I've never seen anything like it. We thought he'd gone mad. He trembled, and babbled—we just couldn't make him talk properly. His eyes got enormous, though we couldn't see what he stared at so. We could see through him. He got fainter and fainter ... then he vanished. Without a sound, like a soap bubble."

  Kimo whimpered and hid his hands behind him.

  "And you did nothing to stop him?” Abri snapped.


  Myringa spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “What could I do? I'm only human."

  "So I see."

  "Don't look at me that way. We tried to find him. Thanli had a theory that Bobcat had gone into the same place he got the gems from. He was certain that if we could extract just the right essence from the Impsbane, we could follow him. I liquidated my entire perfume business, and we moved down here—we made quite a mansion; there's plenty of room even if you don't go into the catacombs. Thanli spent a fortune brewing potions, but he assumed we'd more than make it up in gems. He tested them on mice, cats, dogs..."

  "The poor things!” Lindi cried.

  "Don't interrupt, dear. Well, when a cat did vanish, one day, we had to be sure where it had gone. Thanli took a flask of Impsbane up to my old distillery—away from the delicate equipment, you see. Just in case. I was following him, but I was too slow. There was an explosion ... flames...” Tears poured down Myringa's face. Her face contorted as though she herself burned. “I kept up the work. All these years, I've chopped and mixed and distilled that horrible root, scraped off that awful red skin. I can't get the smell off. No perfume covers it up. It won't come off. Look!"

  Myringa stripped off her gloves and held up her hands—stained deep red.

  "You're still making the Impsbane, Lady Myringa?” Cold with horror, Miska stared at the distraught woman. “But the Steel Thorns..."

  "I know, I know! I had to test it, you see. Not on myself—I had to watch over Thanli! One mistake and ... So I hired helpers. Nearly a dozen, at one point. I told them to find the little people, and test the mixture on them."

  "They poisoned children!” Miska exploded. “And they all died!"

  Myringa backed away from them, her expression full of anger and fear. “Not the little Temple girl. She's all right."

  "Thanks to Miska, not you,” said Lindi, her gentle voice cold.

  Myringa rubbed her reddened hands on the waist of her skirt, so hard that Miska thought she'd tear the gauzy fabric. “They weren't supposed to hurt children. They were supposed to find Cantrips. I went with them myself, after I found out about the little Temple Girl.” She glared at Miska. “You should have come with me when I asked. I would have taken you with me, that day in the market, if Miss Salera and that servant-boy hadn't interfered."

  "It doesn't matter, then, if you poison Kankenni, and not Human children?” Miska's head buzzed. She was astonished at how calm her own voice sounded.

  "Oh, but it's not poisonous to Cantrips! You can go into that place. It wouldn't hurt you."

  "It would. It did. It killed Kimo's mother!"

  Kimo backed away from Myringa. “What are Steel Thorns? Why did you let them hurt Mami?"

  "I didn't know, little one. And I didn't know she was your mama."

  "If she had been someone else's mother, would that have made it right?” Miska demanded.

  "And you did it for money? For jewels? You've been hunting the Kankenni to death for jewels?” Lindi tore the pearl-clip from her hair and threw it at Myringa's feet. Pearls rolled in all directions. “There! Take them!"

  Myringa stared goggle-eyed at the pearls, then at the furious girl in front of her. “It's not the gems I need,” she stammered. “It's the magic."

  "Fine!” Lindi pulled out the pebble she'd gathered outside, and shook it in Lady Myringa's shocked face. Miska could see blue and green Motes sparking from Lindi's clenched fist. “If you need magic rocks...” She dropped the stone in front of Myringa. It was misshapen, lopsided—but clearly an emerald. Myringa drew in a breath.

  "Ah! And you're not a Cantrip. If you can do this, I ... And you did this without Impsbane?"

  "Yes! So let Miska and the others go home."

  "The Cantrips. Yes.” Myringa rubbed a hand across her forehead, looking dazed. “They can go when you're finished."

  "Finished with what?” Miska cried. The way Myringa looked at Lindi made her heart shiver. “Lindi's family is waiting for her. We'll make you plenty of trading-stones before we leave, but we will leave. All of us."

  "You'll stay as long as I tell you to!"

  "No."

  Lady Myringa's face flushed dark purple. The Kankenni backed toward the exit, never taking their eyes off Myringa as she stalked—not toward them, but to a bell rope in the far corner. She pulled it and stood waiting, her hands shaking.

  "It shouldn't have been this way,” she whimpered. “But I need the magic."

  They turned to bolt—and collided with Gerun, the bearded man, and the man with the backbone bracelets.

  "Miss Salera will be staying here this evening. Put these three in the little boy's room,” Myringa ordered. She ignored the Kankenni completely, all her attention on Lindi now. The anger slowly drained from Lindi's stance, giving way to fear. The girl looked pleadingly at Miska, but the Steel Thorns were already shoving the Kankenni back up the stairs.

  The little room in the Temple hadn't seemed small to Miska, but Kimo's closet did, especially after Gerun, chuckling, locked the door. There wasn't even a window. All three Kankenni sat on the bed: Kimo curled into a ball, Miska with her arms held tight to her sides, and Abri chafing at the lack of room to pace.

  "We're taking Kimo home,” he said abruptly. “Now. We can Worldwalk. Before the Steel Thorns find us. Before the Elders leave us all exiled here."

  "What about Lindi?” said Miska quietly.

  "She's Human. She belongs here. That woman won't harm her.” But Abri didn't meet her eyes. Angry in his embarrassment, he pointed an accusing finger at Miska. “When were you planning to come home?"

  "Soon! I...” She stopped. She really had meant to go back, but lately it was always “Someday.” Or “Later.” One more lesson for Lindi, one more sight of the Temple at sunset...

  "Soon,” she repeated helplessly.

  Abri looked at her, his face filled with dismay. “When, love? You missed Illyana's wedding. She cried. Tanrin crossed to the Last World without you. Marki and Ama are expecting a child—did you know that? Would you have stayed here forever, if I hadn't come?"

  "No!” Shock, then something else. Something she didn't want to look at too closely. “I would have come home.” She drew in a deep breath. “I'm just ... not sure when."

  "I see.” He studied her, his face grave. “You can't have both, you know. It would be like trying to live in the Second World."

  "But why not?” All the frustration she had felt over the past weeks boiled over in a flood. “Why must the Kankenni always hide in the dark, and run, and watch our children starve? Why can't we go between worlds? Isn't that what P'raptoi are supposed to do?"

  She wouldn't cry, even when Abri put his arms around her. She only hugged him back, tightly.

  "A P'raptoi's first duty is to the Caverns,” he reminded her, his voice gentle. “You know everything a P'raptoi would know, and you know that. We walk among the Humans, but we keep to our own."

  "You called her ‘cousin', love,” Miska protested. “Lindi. You called her ‘cousin'—one of our own. I know you wouldn't leave a Worldwalker in danger."

  He looked about to protest. He opened his mouth to deny it. But all that came out was a rueful sigh.

  "But what would you have me do, Love?” he said at last. “I'm not even as bold as Braddon was—and look what happened to him."

  "We need help. The Elders..."

  "They won't come here.” Abri dismissed that thought with a cutting-off motion of his hand. “Well, Midyora, perhaps, but she's a hundred and thirty years old, and those men would snap her in two."

  "Besides...” Miska hesitated ... “There are the Motes. Or rather, there aren't any."

  Abri looked at her in surprise. “You're right! I couldn't see any in that room."

  Kimo uncurled enough to look at him. “I could feel them, Abri,” he said, his voice subdued. “Lots of them, nearby. They made my hands hurt."

  "That's what it was,” said Miska, half to herself. “Did you feel them too, Abri?"

 
"I felt pressure, like a headache, and a buzzing. I thought it was the heat of the candles."

  "I'd wondered. I felt the buzzing, just a little. Like something trapped and fighting to get out. Not as strongly as either of you, but then, I've never been as clever with Motes as everyone else."

  Kimo stared.

  "Yes, Kimo, you're right,” she added, smiling at the boy's shocked look. “I'm really not that good at it."

  Kimo didn't say, “I told you so!” That only made Miska more worried. But she went on: “So I didn't feel much. But the Elders—what would they feel?"

  Kimo and Abri both winced.

  Miska nodded. “We need someone who won't be bothered by Motes.” She took a deep breath. “Humans. From the Temple."

  "What?"

  "They will help. They find lost children—Juliar said so."

  "The mouse?” Abri shook his head. “We're not children. We're Kankenni!"

  "They'll come for Lindi, if no one else. If you go to Vedi Sharanis..."

  "Me, Love? You're the one they know."

  "That's why I can't go. They'll think I'm a runaway, keep me in the Temple. But they'll know now that you're not a child, and they have no claim on you. You might be able to convince them. Take Kimo with you—get him far away from whatever's happening with the Motes. Tell the humans what's happened. Tell them about Lindi."

  Abri went visibly paler. He swallowed. “What about you?"

  "I'll find a way back to Lindi,” said Miska. “How are your hands now, Kimo?"

  "Not so bad, without the Motes around. They'll get better.” He jammed them deep in his pockets, where Miska couldn't see. “They will!” he insisted.

  "Yes,” said Miska grimly. “Can you Worldwalk, just a little, with Abri? You need to get out of this house without those Humans seeing you."

  He shuddered, but lifted his chin high. “I could do it by myself! I'm the best Worldwalker ever!"

  "Asking Humans ... There must be some other way...” Abri said.

  Miska waited. Abri slumped, defeated.

  "...but I don't know what it is. All right then, I will go, but what about you?"