Thresholds (7 page)
Authors: Nina Kiriki Hoffman
Maya bit her lower lip.
“You can save her.”
“How?”
“Feed her. Keep her careful. She will hatch soon if she survives. Then she will be your companion. Your seer.”
She touched the egg. Light flared around her fingertip. The velvet skin turned damp. Her fingertip burned and tingled.
She snatched her hand back.
“Please,” he said again. “I should not have stolen her. I am killing her. She is rare. She is precious. Please save her.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Just feed her. She will do the rest.”
“Feed her what?”
“Well, it is something inside you. She needs it. She needs the local. But she won’t hurt you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She will die,” he whispered. “Please.”
Why was she even listening to this nut job? She should back away right now. He didn’t look like he was strong enough to chase her anymore.
Last night she saw a fairy. Maybe this guy wasn’t crazy. Anything could happen.
She should call 911 and get him an ambulance.
The egg sparkled, and then half of it dimmed.
She gasped. It shouldn’t die, no matter what it was, not if there was something she could do to stop it. “What do I have to do?”
“Say yes.”
“Yes, okay, yeah. What does it eat? Cereal?”
He gripped her left hand and pressed the egg against the inside of her wrist. The egg felt warm, then hot and wet, then prickling, then pricking, definitely pricking.
“Oww!” she yelled. Pain shot up her arm. She jerked, tried to get away from the boy, but he held her hand tight.
It hurt, oh, it hurt. It felt like a vacuum sucking her skin, then her blood, muscles, bones. Were her fingers turning to dust? Did the egg suck them dry? She wouldn’t even have a hand in a minute. She felt her arm shrinking and shriveling. Hot needles pricked their way up her arm, into her shoulder.
Stupid, stupid—why hadn’t she run when she could?
She cried and sobbed and jerked against the boy’s hold, but he didn’t let her go. “It will be all right,” he said. “She won’t hurt you.”
What did he think it was doing now? She had never felt such horrible, shocking, burning pain! Tears streamed down her face.
Her left arm went numb.
Better.
In a way.
She reached over with her right hand and tried to push the egg off her wrist. But it wasn’t loose anymore. It had sunk into her flesh, slipped under her skin, leaving only a glowing bump at her wrist. She couldn’t pry it off.
The boy caught her other hand before she could start digging with her fingernails.
“No,” he whispered. “Don’t kill her. You have saved her. Don’t undo it all now.” He pressed a few places on her shoulder, and suddenly her right arm went dead. It hung by her side. She couldn’t lift it.
“Please,” he said. “She won’t hurt you. She will only be with you. She will only love you.”
“It hurt! It was the worst pain I ever felt! It hurt.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes were wet. “Yes. I forgot. At first it hurts, but not for long. By tomorrow you’ll be fine. And she will survive.” He let go of her left hand. “Thank you. Thank you ultimately and endlessly. You will have to teach her. She won’t know right away.”
“Teach her what?” Her left arm was numb. She had felt it being sucked dry. She thought about lifting her arm, and to her surprise, it rose. And it looked normal, except for the glowing bump. She turned her hand, looked at its top, then its bottom. Normal, not shriveled up into a dried-out sack of skin.
The bump on her wrist glowed with colored radiance. Lights moved under the skin of her left forearm and flowed up to her elbow, then farther up her arm, as though fireflies swam in her veins.
“Teach her?” she cried. “How can I teach something that’s eating me from the inside out? What did you do to me? Make it stop!”
“I can’t. She won’t eat you. She only needs you very much. She is made to work with people, all kinds of people. You will be fine.” He lifted her hands and kissed the palm of each of them. “I am sorry I frightened you,” he murmured. He lumbered to his feet and staggered out of the room.
She followed him out into the hall. She had to get home. She had to tell Mom and Dad what had happened and make them take her to a doctor.
The corridor to the entrance stretched for miles. Light from outside came from the far end of a long, dim tunnel. The boy was nowhere in sight. Her head felt light and floaty, and she could barely lift her feet off the ground.
She shuffled. One foot forward, then the next.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, her arms swinging by her sides, beyond her control.
After a while, she stopped and leaned against some lockers. The glimmer of light at the entrance looked almost as far away as it had before.
The egg was dying, but it was killing her first, and she didn’t think it was a fair trade. On the other hand, she felt so tired and sick and faint she almost didn’t care.
She started to slip down the wall to the floor.
No!
She shuffled forward before she could fall down. If she could make it outside, someone would see her.
Where was everybody? How long had she been shut up in the science room with that crazy guy?
“Help,” she yelled as she shuffled toward the exit, but it came out as a tiny muffled squeak. Maybe if she had headed back toward Mrs. Boleslav’s office instead of toward the doors, she could have reached it by now. Even if Mrs. Boleslav was gone, there were phones there.
Cell phone. Dad had gotten everyone a cell phone when they arrived in Oregon. “Since we’re all going to different places now, we need a way to check in. These are just for calling the family. Don’t go texting your friends all day,” he had said when he handed them out, but he smiled when he said it.
Maya had thought,
Friends? What friends?
She had settled down and learned how to use her phone, like everybody else in the family. No camera on the phone, no music player, nothing fancy. Just a calling device.
Friends? What friends?
She had settled down and learned how to use her phone, like everybody else in the family. No camera on the phone, no music player, nothing fancy. Just a calling device.
Which she could sure use now.
Her cell phone was in her right pocket. She tried to reach across with her left hand. She couldn’t wriggle her left hand down into the pocket. Her right hand was dead.
She couldn’t muster the energy to look back and see if the office was any closer than the entrance.
Why wasn’t the janitor cruising the corridors and making sure everybody was gone?
She kept shuffling. Gradually the entrance doors got nearer.
“Help,” she muttered. She leaned forward, then got her feet under her before she could fall. Leaned forward, shuffled her feet forward. Leaned forward . . .
She just wanted to lie down. Maybe sleep for twenty-four hours.
What if she woke up dead?
Keep moving.
Her stomach gurgled, then growled.
She was starving.
Keep moving.
Next thing she knew, she had her forehead pressed against cool glass, and it sure felt good.
The glass moved and she fell forward. Someone caught her before she fell flat on her face.
“Maya?”
“Travis,” she said, in her tiny squeaky voice.
“Maya! What happened to you?” He gripped her shoulders.
“Help,” she said.
“Help? Help!” He looked back over his shoulder frantically. “Hey, you sit here and I’ll go get somebody.” He started to lower her to the ground.
She clutched his arm with her left hand. “Home,” she said. “Three blocks.”
“What? You should go to the hospital! What happened? Did somebody hit you?”
She closed her eyes. Dizziness made her sway. Travis could call for help on her phone, if he didn’t have one of his own. What kind of help did she want? Mom? Dad? A hospital? The pain in her left wrist had eased. Right now, her pain centered in her stomach. She said, “No. Nobody hit me. I’ve got to get home. I—I’m starving!”
“What?” He slipped her backpack off her back and slid his arms through the straps, then leaned over and put his arm around her.
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.
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!”
“Kiri alamaka!”
“Jeez! What
is
that thing?” said Travis.
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.
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
.”
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.
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