It occurred to her that if she weren’t so brain-dead and worried, this might be an interesting situation.
It occurred to her that she must feel a little better than she had, or things wouldn’t occur to her.
Her stomach rumbled like an earthquake. She felt sick with hunger, headachy with it.
“Which way?” he asked.
She pointed to the right. “Thirty-third Street,” she muttered.
Travis dragged her toward home.
NINE
He was so great about it. He practically carried her for three blocks. She could barely put one foot in front of the other.
As they lurched past Janus House, Benjamin ran outside. “What happened?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Travis said. “She came out of school and fell over.”
Benjamin rushed to her left side. He reached for her hand.
When he touched her, a spark flew out.
“Ack!” He jerked back. “What?” He gingerly reached out to her left hand, and it shocked him again. She turned her hand over and showed him the glowing lump under her skin. “Maya!” he cried. “Kiri alamaka!”
“Jeez! What is that thing?” said Travis.
“I don’t know,” she wailed. “Chikuvny Boy put it there.”
Benjamin sucked air in between his teeth, a hissing sound.
“What does that mean?” Travis asked her.
“It means she needs to come to my house,” Benjamin said. “It’s closer.” He leaned over and talked to her left wrist. “I won’t hurt you,” he murmured. “Let me help you.”
He touched her hand, and this time it didn’t shock him. He and Travis pulled her up the path, up the porch steps, across the porch, and through the front doors of Janus House.
In the carpeted foyer there was a broad stairway in front of them, a door to the right and a door to the left, and other doors farther down the hall past the staircase. Benjamin nodded toward the left-hand door.
“I’m so hungry,” Maya moaned.
The door opened into a dark room. It smelled like incense and spice. Thick patterned rugs lay on the floor. Dark cloth sprinkled with tiny mirrors covered the walls and ceiling, draped and billowy. It was like walking into some kind of tent. At night.
“That way,” Benjamin said, nodding toward an arched doorway.
The smell of fresh baking made her mouth water. They went through the arch into a kitchen, which was much lighter than the living room.
Benjamin and Travis lowered her into a wooden chair. Then Benjamin went to the counter by the stove and returned with a big loaf of brown-crusted pound cake.
It smelled heavenly. Her right hand shot out and grabbed a handful. The cake came away in a moist hunk. Inside the crust, it was lemon yellow.
She stuffed it into her mouth. It tasted as good as anything she’d ever eaten. She swallowed it without chewing and grabbed more.
Benjamin set a glass of water in front of her. “Eat as much as you want,” he said. “I’ll go get help. Stay here.”
Pound cake! Could anything be better? She ate half the loaf, so happy she was almost crying.
Then she glanced at Travis, who sat nearby.
He stared at her as if she had turned into a wolf girl.
“Sorry,” she said. “Usually I have better manners. I’m so hungry I can’t stop myself.”
“It’s all right,” he murmured. But he shook his head while he said it, like he meant it was all wrong.
So maybe she should have used a knife, cut off slices before she ate them. But she didn’t have a knife.
“Do you want some?” she asked.
“No. Nope. I’m fine. You eat.”
Her stomach still flamed with hunger, but she slowed down. Travis had rescued her. He had already proved he was a good friend. She didn’t want him to think she was a total dork.
She glanced around the kitchen now that the first edge was off her hunger. The walls were yellow, except one covered with a huge tapestry so faded she couldn’t tell what the picture on it was supposed to be. The table she sat at was carved wooden lace, inlaid with ivory or bone. A brass chandelier hung above it, spangled with lots of little lightbulbs.
She reached for the glass of water.
With her right hand.
Wait a sec, she’d grabbed the cake with her right hand, too. She could use her arm again. Thank God. She shook her right arm, rotated her hand. After Chikuvny Boy used that Vulcan arm pinch on her, she had been afraid maybe she’d never be able to move her arm again.
She lifted her left arm. It worked when she thought orders at it, but she couldn’t sense it very well yet. The strange lump on her wrist still glowed with internal light, colors blooming and fading. Now that she felt better, everything that had just happened seemed even weirder. She cupped her right hand over the lump. It felt velvety soft and warm.
“Explain to me again how that got there,” Travis said. “Who’s Chickie Boy?”
“Some weird sick kid at school. He said he had this pet, and he needed someone local to take care of it. I said okay, and then he—” She lifted her hand and stared at the lump. Her eyes felt hot. “I didn’t know it meant this.”
“That’s a pet? I’ve seen hairless cats and wiener dogs, and I thought those were ridiculous. But this—”
“You’re not helping,” Maya said. She swallowed her sadness and ate more cake.
Benjamin came back with Gwenda, who carried a small black lidded cauldron. She looked like a witch.
“I’ve got some soup for you,” Gwenda said. She set the cauldron on the table near Maya and removed the lid. Steam rose, and Maya smelled—heaven. “This is for strength and stamina,” Gwenda said. She got a brown clay bowl out of a cupboard and brought it and a ladle to the table. She dished up some soup.
“Here,” Benjamin said. He gave Maya a wooden spoon.
If Gwenda was a witch, maybe the soup was a spell. But Maya didn’t care. She felt like she’d been waiting to eat this soup for ages. It was just right, not hot enough to burn her tongue, not too cool. It tasted like vinegar and sour grass and spinach. Normally she didn’t like any of those things. What was wrong with her?
Vinegar, sour grass, spinach, maybe mushrooms, and something that tasted like pine bark smelled. Suddenly her favorite food in the whole world, even better than pound cake. She could feel it making her strong and well, chasing away all the tired.
“Travis, you want something to drink?” Gwenda asked.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Travis. “What you got?”
She went to a turquoise refrigerator and looked inside. “Root beer,” she said.
“My favorite.”
Gwenda poured a glassful of brown liquid. She moved her fingers over it and handed it to Travis.
He took a sip, then a gulp. “Wow. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.” He lifted the glass to his lips and tilted his head back. Maya, spooning up delicious sour soup, watched Travis set the mostly full glass down and yawn.
His eyes dropped shut. He slumped in his chair.
Maya froze with the spoon in midair. “Did you just drug him?” she asked, panicked.
“Uh-huh. It’s for the best. We can’t let him find out what happened to you, Maya,” Benjamin said.
He sounded like he already knew.
She dropped the spoon and cupped her right hand over her left wrist. She felt a pulse under her palm. Her pulse or the egg’s?
If root beer could knock Travis out, what was this soup doing to her?
She sat back and checked in with herself.
She had been faint with hunger and pain when Travis brought her here, had wondered if she was going to die. Now she felt . . . almost normal again. Maybe the soup was just what Gwenda had said. For stamina and strength.
She looked at Gwenda.
“We won’t hurt you,” Gwenda said gently.
Maya had heard that already today, from Chikuvny Boy, right before Big Pain.
“We won’t, Maya. Tra
vis will be fine. He’ll wake up in a couple hours without even a headache.”
“But—”
“There are some things,” Benjamin said, “lots of things, we can’t share without good reason.”
“This is major, Maya,” Gwenda said, “like, change-the-rest-of-your-life big. It’s something most people can’t help you with, but I think we can. I hope we can.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. It might even be my fault. I’ve made so many mistakes lately. Please let us help you.”
How could it be Gwenda’s fault? She didn’t even know Chikuvny Boy.
Chikuvny Boy. Her egg. Change the rest of her life?
The back of her throat felt tight. She uncovered the egg. The glowing, colored bump had collected back the little lights that had been swimming around under the skin of her forearm. It was warm and strange, though she was getting used to it, the way she could no longer bend her wrist all the way. She opened and closed her fingers. They worked fine.
She could go home with this, and then what? She was pretty sure no doctor she could find in the phone book would know what it was or how to treat it.
She sniffled, then nodded. “What is this?” she asked Benjamin. “Do you already know about it?”
“We don’t recognize it, but we know about strange,” he said. “We deal with strange every day.”
Maya’s heartbeat sped up. She felt a prickling across her scalp and down the back of her neck. She had an image of herself standing with her hand on a doorknob, about to turn it and open a door into another world.
Benjamin said, “Did Chikuvny Boy tell you why he gave you the—the—”
“Sissimi,” she said.
“Sissimi?” said Benjamin. “Wasn’t there something about that in the—”
“Sissimi,” Gwenda said at the same time. “You have a name for it! That’s the first power. I’ll be right back.” She rose and left, then returned carrying a big, battered, leather-covered book. It was way fatter than the book Benjamin had been reading at school, and it looked even more beat up.
Gwenda and Benjamin sat at the table with Maya and the sleeping Travis. “Did he tell you anything about it?” Benjamin asked Maya.
She touched the bump. It felt velvety-soft and warm. She tried to remember exactly what Chikuvny Boy had told her. “He said it’s a treasure and a perfect friend. He said it needs somebody local. He was really sick, and the sissimi was dying. I guess he wasn’t local enough, though how can that be? The sissimi needs to eat me. He didn’t tell me that part until after he put it on me, though. I just thought he was going to give it to me and I’d find it some food. Is it some kind of vampire egg?”
“I don’t think so,” Benjamin said. “There was message traffic—”
“Wait.” Gwenda flipped through the book. “Sissimi,” she said. “Ah. Here you go. They’re not parasites. They’re protectors. They bond for life. Hmm. It must have been in extreme distress to hook into you like it did. Normally they’re helpers, and the connection feels good.” She frowned at the book. “Wait a minute. Benjamin? How would you translate shri?”
“Stealth?” he said. “Spying?”
She pointed to a passage in the book, and he leaned over to look. Maya looked too. The page was interesting, but there was nothing on it she could read, just strings and swirls of unknown symbols in different colors.
Benjamin frowned at her egg. “‘Information feed’?”
“What does that mean?” Maya asked.
“There are some words I don’t get here, but I think it says sissimi are sent out with explorers and spies to gather information and send it back. Send it back to where?” He flipped a page and searched through more explosions of symbols.
Gwenda scanned down the page, moving her fingertip. “Oh, why is this book always so confusing?” she cried at last.
Maya stroked her egg with a fingertip. A silent vibration started in its heart, a purr without noise. It felt lovely, and colors shimmered under her fingertip, shifting from indigo to orange to yellow. “How could this send anything anywhere? Is it like a radio?” she asked.
“The book doesn’t explain,” said Gwenda. “It never does.”
“Does it say how I can get it off?” She pressed the egg to her cheek, felt the thrum against her face and in her arm. Warm. Soothing. Nice. Maybe she didn’t want to get it off.
“I don’t think it comes off now until it hatches,” said Benjamin.
“How long does that take?”
He shook his head. “The book doesn’t say. We need more information.”
“Listen to this,” Gwenda said. “‘The sissimi bond is so pleasant that unsuitable people seek it out. Sissimi nurseries are heavily guarded. Only special people are allowed to bond.’”
“How special am I?” Maya asked.
“Well, you’re not somebody they picked,” Benjamin said. “But you’re special because you saved it from dying.”
“There are nurseries for things like this,” Maya muttered. “Nurseries. Where?” She stroked the lump. Color rippled in response to her touch. “How come you guys have even heard of this? Is it something everybody knows about but me?”
“No,” Benjamin said. “Very few people know. But we do. It’s our job to know.”
“Where are these sissimi nurseries?” Maya asked.
Gwenda bit her lip, ran her finger over a block of symbols in her book. “Not on Earth,” she said.
TEN
Okay. Breathe, Maya. Okay. She could deal with this.
Maybe.
“What is it?” She touched her egg. Warm as a muffin just out of the oven, soft, with a little give to it, but firm underneath—not rock hard, but solid, like an unripe plum. Colors pulsed over its surface, waves of them shining up through the thin pink membrane of her skin: aquamarine, emerald, rose, turquoise, citrine.
“What does it hatch into?” she asked. “What does it look like?”
Gwenda flipped the pages back and forth. “The book doesn’t say. There’s no picture.”
“Is it an animal? Is it a plant? Is it—is it a fairy?” She stroked her finger over the waves of colors. The egg thrummed.
Gwenda searched the book’s pages again. “It says it turns into something different with every species it encounters. No specifics.”
“Did Chikuvny Boy tell you anything else?” Benjamin asked.
Maya closed her right hand gently around the egg. It radiated warmth and purred against her palm, against the bones of her left wrist. She felt sleepy. Her stomach was full of pound cake and strange, satisfying soup. She could still taste the sour on her tongue, but she liked it. She felt as though she was wrapped in a warm blanket of good health.
What had the boy said to her? “He said she was a seer. I don’t know what that is. Companion. Collector. Protector. He said . . . he said I had to teach her.”
“Teach her what?” asked Benjamin.
Maya shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Teach her how to be local,” Gwenda said slowly. “That’s why Chikuvny Boy picked Maya.”
“That, and I was wearing chikuvny,” she said.
They both stared at her.
“He said I could take care of her until she was big enough, then take her to a portal,” she said. “Portals are connected to chikuvny, right?”
They didn’t answer.
“And you guys know where the portals are. All this time, Chikuvny Boy was looking for you guys. I smelled right; that’s why he found me. I smelled like fairy dust. But the fairy came from your house, right?”
Neither of them said anything.
“You saw my drawing. You know I’ve seen her, Benjamin.”
“Yes,” he finally admitted.
She knew it. “She got out because Gwenda left the door open?”
Gwenda sighed. “Dumb Rowan. Talking about our business on the street. Next time he tries to get me in trouble, I’m going to use that one.”
“You left the door open,” Maya said slowly to G
wenda. “The portal?”
“No, not that door,” said Benjamin.
“Chikuvny Boy said I had to find a portal,” she said, “that she’ll need it. She can go home and they’ll—whoever they are, wherever they are—they’ll know what to do. Is that right?”
“We really can’t talk about this. Not without permission.” Benjamin’s face was blank.
“You can’t even tell me whether the fairy is safe? She slept on me last night.”
“That’s wild,” Gwenda said. “She was very skittery. She had never used a portal before, and it totally spooked her. But yeah, she moved on okay.”
“Gwenda!” Benjamin cried.
“She needs to know, Benjamin, you know she does.” Gwenda turned to her. “We’re not supposed to talk to anybody . So we don’t make friends with other kids. We don’t talk to strangers. We spend all our time together. Like a religious cult.”
“But you let me sit with you.”
Benjamin said, “You smelled right. We thought maybe you were family from out of town. Although even the youngest of us knows to get rid of that scent before leaving the house.”
She touched her egg to her cheek. It purred silently, comforting her.
All day long, people had mistaken her for something she wasn’t. Fairy dust and mistaken identity.
“I told you right away I didn’t know what chikuvny was,” she said to Benjamin.
“You’re supposed to pretend you don’t know. I should never have said that word to you. Even if you understood it, you would be right to pretend you didn’t.”
She shook her head. “That’s crazy!”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
“We can’t keep pretending we don’t know, any of us.” Gwenda closed the book, put her hands on top of it, and rested her chin on her hands. “Maya has a real problem, and it might relate to our other problems. We have to tell the Elders. We need help.”
The front door opened in the other room. Someone called, “Benjamin? Are you home? Why aren’t you at energy class? Have you seen Gwenda?”
Rowan walked into the kitchen.
Maya’s heart pounded, and she had a hard time catching her breath.
Rowan brushed the hair out of his face and glared at her.
Thresholds Page 6
