Gateway (28 page)

“Are you hungry?” Aurora asked. “There’s food in the kitchen.”

“A little. I couldn’t swallow anything this morning. And I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Well, eat something and then take a nap. I’m going to look for Ombri. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

But Aurora was still gone when Daiyu finished her meal and lay down. She had automatically gone to the small room that had been hers five weeks earlier, and only now did she realize she had usurped Kalen’s place. His clothes were thrown over a chair; his scent lay like a perfume across the bed. Daiyu put her head down, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, comforted by the smell. If she could just take a small part of Kalen back with her to St. Louis—if she could take back just one memory—

She was so tired, she fell asleep instantly, but her dreams were confused and troubling. She struggled through unfamiliar streets, running from someone who chased her, searching for someone who eluded her, while fireworks rained dangerous sparks down from overhead. It was a relief to wake a couple of hours later, feeling only a little rested. Outside her room, she could hear voices murmuring in intense conversation—Ombri and Aurora, excitedly making plans.

She turned her head on the pillow and saw Kalen sitting on the floor, watching her.

TWENTY-TWO

DAIYU WAS FLOODED
with happiness, but when she opened her mouth to cry out his name, Kalen put a finger to his lips to enjoin silence. She glanced at the door then back at him, and he nodded. He did not want Aurora and Ombri to know she was awake.

Noiselessly, she moved over on the mat to make room for him, and he lay down beside her. She rested a hand on his hip, he settled his palm around the back of her head and drew her close enough for a gentle kiss. She sighed and felt a moment’s utter peace.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

She nodded against the pillow. “Are you?”

“What happened?” he said. “Tell me all of it.”

“I heard Chenglei give an order to flood the river. He thought Feng had hidden there among the stonepickers, and he was willing to murder all those people in the hopes of killing Feng. I made Quan drive me to the Zhongbu, and I rang the little bells—”

“That was you?” Kalen interrupted. “Gabe came running down to the river, demanding to know what had happened. No one could believe he had left the tower empty. No one could guess who had known to ring the bells to save so many lives.”

“Some people died,” she said. “I saw them get washed away.”

Kalen rested his forehead against hers. His hand moved down to rest warmly on her back. “So many lived. But I didn’t know
you
were the one who saved us.”

“I wanted to tell you—I saw you climb out of the river, helping some woman, and I wanted to run to you—but I had to get back to Quan. I had to get back to Chenglei’s house. I thought no one would realize what I had done. I thought I could keep pretending.Butthenlastnight—attheparty—Chengleifound me alone. He accused me of sounding the bells. He accused me of being a traitor. He said he would ruin Xiang, he would ruin Mei, and I was horrified at all the damage I had caused. I knew I could not be arrested, so I reached for the talisman, and he took it from me and he—and he—he disappeared.”

“So Chenglei is gone and the people of Shenglang can find a new prime minister—a better one, I hope,” Kalen said. He brushed another gentle kiss on her lips and she felt his mouth smiling against hers. “You have done what they brought you here to do.”

“Kalen, Aurora says I must go home,” she said. “But I don’t want to go. Not now, not yet.” She moved closer, so she was pressed against him down the entire length of his body. She felt the heat of his skin through the ragged layer of his clothing, the silken layer of hers. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t think I can.”

He was silent a moment, though his big hand made a slow, stroking motion down her spine. Finally he said, “You always knew you couldn’t stay. And you have so much to go back to. You’ll be glad once you’re home on Earth.”

“I can’t remember my home,” she whispered. “Any of it.”

“Your father is a tall man with an easy smile,” Kalen said, the rhythm of his voice soothing, reassuring. “He taught you to do at least one kind act every day. He works with his hands, and he makes beautiful things out of pieces that have been abandoned or thrown away. Your mother is practical and never at a loss. She could organize the world. She isn’t a dreamer like your father, but she’s hopelessly attracted to his dreams. Neither of them has ever loved anything as much as they love you.”

“How can you remember them when I can’t?”she asked him through her silent sobs.

“They’re
your
memories,” he told her gently. “I only held them for you.”

She moved her hand up, clutched at his face. She wanted to press even closer; she wanted to crawl inside his heart. “What will happen to me, when I cross back to Earth?” she said, desperately afraid. “Will I really forget everything that happened to me here?”

“It’s all right if you do,” he said. “I’ll hold those memories for you too.”

Her face crumpled; it was harder and harder to hold back the sound of her crying. “But
you’ll
be alone,” she said. “All of us gone. I hate to think of you lonely and sad—oh, but that’s better than not being able to think of you at all!”

“Ssshh,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. “It will not be so dreadful. I will be happy knowing you are where you’re supposed to be, surrounded by people who love you. I will be happy remembering you came into my life at all.”

She could not be comforted. Her weeping grew louder, and she wasn’t surprised to hear a knock on the door a moment before Aurora come in. “Is she awake then? Oh—Daiyu—this is why I didn’t want you to come back and make your good-byes—”

“I’m sorry,” Daiyu sobbed, though she couldn’t have said what she was apologizing for. Maybe nothing more than the inability to stop crying. She heard Ombri’s heavier footsteps enter the room.

“Farewells are always difficult, but there is little to be gained by drawing them out,” he said in his deep voice. The tone was far more compassionate than the words. “Say your good-byes, Daiyu, for Aurora and I cannot linger. We must cross to your iteration as soon as possible. We must discover where Chenglei has gone and what fresh mischief he might have stirred up.”

Kalen sat up and urged Daiyu to do the same. She knew her face was pinched and blotchy, but she didn’t even care that everyone could see her in such an unattractive state. “Can’t we stay one more day?” she begged. “Can’t we leave tomorrow?”

“It won’t be any easier tomorrow, I’m afraid,” Ombri said. “For you
or
Kalen.”

Kalen tried to draw her to her feet, but she twined her arms aroundhisneck.“Comewithme,”shesaid,suddenlystruckby inspiration. “You don’t have any reason to stay here—follow me to St. Louis.”

“You won’t remember me in St. Louis,” he said quietly.

“And he won’t remember you, either,” Ombri said. “I told you that on your first day here. There is something about the Earth iteration that erases a sojourner’s memories of any place he might have been before. Even Aurora and I will need some time to regain a sense of self once we arrive on your world.”

“Which is why we must find Chenglei as soon as possible,” Aurora said. “Before he regains his full strength.”

Daiyu turned her back on them. “Come to Earth anyway,” she pleaded, putting her hands up to Kalen’s cheeks. “I’ll find you. I’ll write myself a note! I’ll tell myself to go down to the Arch—the gateway—every day and wait for someone. I’ll describe you. I’ll tell myself to trust you and to be your friend.”

“Daiyu, it won’t work,” Aurora said.

“It will,” she said fiercely. “Kalen, promise you’ll come.”

He leaned his forehead against hers again; his eyes were huge and liquid just inches away. “And what happens to me if you cannot find me?” he said sadly. “What happens to me if you do not remember to look for me, if you do not recognize me when I appear? I am alone in a place I do not understand—”

“Where you do not speak the language,” Ombri interposed.

“And where I must appear like a lunatic to the authorities. What happens to me then?”

He was right. The thought was horrifying. The only thing that could make her wish him to stay behind was the fear of what could happen to him if he tried to follow her. “Then you must stay in Shenglang,” she whispered against his mouth. “And I must try to live without even the memory of you on Earth.”

“Come, Daiyu,” Ombri said. “We must get you home.”

Not surprisingly, it took a few more minutes to get ready. Daiyu had to change into her own clothes, so that she would not be startled, back on Earth, to find herself suddenly wearing a wholly unfamiliar outfit. In addition, despite Aurora’s disapproval, she had to write herself a note trying to explain her adventure. But what could she possibly say? In the end, she merely put down the most important part: “You were briefly transported to another world, and you fell in love with a boy named Kalen. If you ever see him again, he won’t remember you and you won’t remember him, but you should trust him and let him into your life.” She wondered if she would believe the words when she saw them.

She had managed to keep the silken pouch she had carried the whole time she was in Shenglang. Chenglei had dropped it as he was flung to her iteration, and she had retrieved it from the grass before she rejoined Xiang. In it was the other note she had written to herself, which she discarded now, and the precious drawing Kalen had made of the riverfront. This, of course, she kept. Now she added the smoky brown rock Kalen had found in the river one day, the one decorated with bits of orange and cobalt. He had given it to her; maybe it would help her remember him.

“I’m ready,” she said finally in a quavering voice, although she wasn’t ready, she would never be ready, she didn’t think she had the strength to make this final journey. But “Good,” Aurora said, and Ombri nodded, and Kalen smiled at her and took her hand.

“Then let’s go to the gateway,” Kalen said.

He continued to hold her hand as the four of them walked to the nearest trolley stop, and he held her hand as they sat together on one of the hard wooden seats. His grip was reassuringly tight as they disembarked from the trolley and picked their way across the yin-yang border of stones until they were standing in front of the tall red-lacquer gate.

“What do I do now?” Daiyu asked, her voice roughened by the tightness of her throat.

“It’s simple,” Ombri said. “You will take this gem and step through the gate, and you will be back in your own iteration.”

Aurora handed her a silver necklace hung with a pink stone pendant. It was a piece of rose quartz much smaller than the talisman she had carried all these weeks. Apparently, since she was using it in conjunction with a gateway, it didn’t need to be as powerful.

“And no time will have passed since I left?” Daiyu asked.

“A second, maybe two,” Aurora said. “Nothing you would notice. You will probably feel dizzy. You might feel nauseated. You’ll be a little confused. Nothing you can’t explain away by sunstroke or heat exhaustion.”

She had left St. Louis on the evening of a scorching hot day. Sunstroke and heat exhaustion would be entirely believable.

“Are you sure I won’t remember?” she asked.

Ombri put his hands on her shoulders, even though Kalen continued to hold her hand. “We’re sure,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Travel safely, Daiyu. You have been a splendid companion.”

He stepped aside, and Aurora hugged her, kissing her on the cheek. “You have such courage and grace,” the older woman whispered. “Those will serve you well no matter what world you call home.”

Aurora drew back, and now there was only Kalen to say good-bye to. Daiyu wanted to fling herself into his arms, cling to him and refuse to let go, but she knew such a display would hurt him far longer than it hurt her. If ever there was a time to show courage and grace, it was now.

“I love you,” she told him, speaking steadily despite her falling tears. “Remember that for me, in case I forget.”

“I love you, too,” he said, kissing her on the mouth and finally releasing her hand. “And that will be true as long as either of us lives in either of our worlds.”

There was nothing else to say. Daiyu clutched the cool pink stone in her right hand, gave them all one last brave smile, and stepped through the red-lacquer gate.

TWENTY-THREE

DAIYU TRIPPED ON
something and fell to the ground on the other side of the Arch, landing awkwardly on her hands and knees. The pendant flew from her grip to land a few feet away. For a moment, the breath was punched out of her body; for a moment, it was hard to see.

“Areyouallright?”someoneasked,andshelookeduptosee a pair of middle-aged women bending over her. One wore jeans and a Cardinals shirt, and the other had on a long sundress printed with palm trees and flamingos.