Threshold

  Hold me, touch me, soothe me, love me.

  But it didn’t, and I cried.

  Isphet left it a month before we tried yet again. A month. Surely a month would do it.

  Zeldon and Orteas joined us this time, adding their strength. Isphet was concerned for me, and she wanted more support than Layla alone could give her.

  We stood about the pool, Zeldon’s arm around me, the love and support of all about me.

  The colours swirled.

  Tirzah! Tirzah! LOOK!

  And, oh by all the gods, there he was! I cried out, and extended my arms, but he did not see me, and turned his back and walked away, his head down. He was very indistinct, fading into the background glow.

  “Boaz! Boaz!”

  Tirzah, Tirzah. It has been a long and hard journey for him. The Song of the Frogs almost was not strong enough. It almost failed. Even now Boaz needs to take the final step.

  And Nzame? Nzame? I did not really want to know. It was too late to scathe the babe away now. This child would have to be carried to term. Whatever it was.

  Ah, Tirzah, he will not talk to us – he avoids us. He will not let us accept him. We do not know what happened. But he is worried. Worried. He frets.

  Frets?

  Frets for you Tirzah. He worries about the baby. There is something about the baby…something wrong…

  Sickness gripped me, and I would have fallen had it not been for Zeldon’s strong arm.

  …something about the baby…

  …something wrong…

  49

  ISPHET took me to my apartment again, closed the door firmly and sat me down.

  “In the Infinity Chamber you asked the glass if there was a chance that a bridge was created to anywhere or anyone else…if there was a chance Nzame had gone somewhere other than Infinity. Tirzah, look at me! Did you fear that Nzame had escaped into the child you carry within you?”

  I thought about lying, but I nodded.

  “Tell me.” Her hands tightened about mine.

  I did. I told her everything – the dream, Nzame’s threats, Boaz’s concerns, and his wish that I miscarry the baby.

  “You stupid, stupid girl!” Isphet hissed. “Why didn’t you do it!”

  “Why did Raguel carry her child to term!” I cried. “I couldn’t kill it, Isphet. Can you possibly understand that? I couldn’t!” I tore my hands from Isphet’s and rested them protectively on my belly.

  “Well, it is far too late now.” She sat and looked at me, her eyes unreadable. “We will just have to wait for the birth.”

  “You will not murder this child, Isphet,” I said as calmly as I could.

  “I will tear its head from its body the moment I even suspect it is Nzame, Tirzah. Has Boaz’s sacrifice been for nothing? Have all the deaths, all the sufferings been for nothing? Do you sit there protecting Nzame?”

  “Don’t you think I don’t worry about that every minute of the day and night, Isphet? But what if the child is not Nzame? It is all I have left of Boaz. All. I don’t want to kill the last chance I have for some happiness.”

  Three days later we tried again. We had to know. We had to speak with Boaz.

  At first he did not appear. The Soulenai were there, agitated again.

  We cannot understand it…we do not know…he cries and frets about the baby, and calls your name, Tirzah. He pleads, calls, cries. He disturbs the peace of the Place Beyond.

  Avaldamon was among the Soulenai, but Boaz was beyond him, too.

  He turns away and will not look at me, Tirzah. He refuses to be accepted among us. What is wrong? He is with us and yet not with us. He cries about the baby. What is wrong, Tirzah? What?

  And then Boaz was there – yet so insubstantial. He held out his hand, pleading, crying.

  I screamed his name, but he appeared not to hear me. He was there, but not there, and unable to be touched by our arts.

  Tirzah, his mouth formed. Tirzah? Are you there? Are you there? Can you see me?

  He sobbed, broken-hearted, and I could see his mouth form the word “baby”.

  I was beside myself, Zeldon again holding me lest I should attempt to cast myself into the Place Beyond.

  Tirzah? Tirzah? Oh Tirzah, I need you. I need you.

  I cried out, and fainted.

  Isphet would not try again. It was too much. I was sick, almost demented, and she confined me to my bed.

  “You will rest here until the baby comes, Tirzah. And in this you will obey me.”

  Older, healthier, and Chad’zina – I could not argue with her. I lay in my bed, a prisoner, trapped by the baby in my womb. I lay, my hand on my belly, feeling the baby, wondering what it was that moved about inside me.

  What about the baby, Boaz? What is it you want to tell me?

  Kiamet took up guard by my door as he had watched over Boaz and myself in Threshold, and Holdat brought delicacies that he thought might tempt me. He fed me fruit wines from the Goblet of the Frogs, and left the Book of the Soulenai within easy reach. He often sat with me in the evenings, and if I refused to read from the Book, he would sit silently with it in his lap, his tanned hands gently stroking it.

  Layla came often, with the dog by her side, and Kiath had arrived from the Abyss with Zhabroah. She and Layla sat and played with the baby before me, laughing and saying that soon I would have a baby of my own to play with.

  I tried to smile, but too often I saw Isphet’s eyes in the dimness by the door, watching, waiting.

  I knew she would take this baby from me as soon as it was born. Smother it, drown it, but kill it surely.

  …something about the baby…he cries and he frets…something about the baby…something wrong…we cannot tell what…

  Zabrze came many evenings. Isphet had obviously not told him her fears, for he too laughed at my growing roundness, and put his hand on my belly to feel the baby move.

  “So I used to feel Boaz move within my mother’s belly, Tirzah. I swear this baby kicks more than he, or any of my children did. It is a feisty babe!”

  Ashdod was recovering well. Crops were sprouting forth from land once covered in stone, and the soil proving more fertile than it had in generations.

  “And the people have been altered by their experience, too, Tirzah,” Zabrze said one evening, Zhabroah crawling about the floor at his feet. “Zeldon and Orteas now lead congregations of Elementals within Setkoth, and the Elemental arts are flowering…encouraged by my fine wife.” He smiled at Isphet, and she returned it. I wished she would smile at me with such unfeigned affection.

  “Isphet takes many under her care – and sends others to the Abyss to train with the Graces and Yaqob.”

  Yaqob had stayed within the Abyss. His legs had healed, but he did not walk well, and he was loath to move from the peace of the chasm.

  Zhabroah began to fret, and Zabrze bent down and picked him up. “I’ll take him back to his nurse, Isphet. You stay here for a while yet. But do not linger overlong.” Zabrze gave Isphet a wink, bent down to kiss my cheek, then left.

  “I spoke to the Soulenai again today,” Isphet said as soon as the door was closed.

  “And?”

  “And much of the same. Boaz still wanders among the Soulenai in the Place Beyond…yet not with them. They cannot understand it. He does not talk to them, yet they can hear him fret and cry. ‘The baby,’ he cries, ‘the baby!’ He calls your name, too, and holds out a hand, as if to seek you.”

  Tirzah? Tirzah? Are you there? Can you see me? The baby, oh! The baby!

  I lowered my face into my hands and wept.

  “The child must die,” Isphet said. “You know that. It is the only way Boaz will find peace.”

  She sat and watched me weep, but did not move to comfort me. After a while she stood, laid a hand on my brow, and left.

  “Lady Tirzah? Lady Tirzah?”

  I jerked my head up. Holdat rose out of a dark corner. Gods, Isphet and I had forgotten he was here.

  “There, there,” he said, a
nd sat on the bed and held me as I wept. My sobbing increased, and I burrowed my face into the comfort of his shoulder. It was the first time that I’d allowed myself to fully grieve, for Boaz, and for the baby.

  He let me weep, softly stroking my hair, whispering nonsense that I clung to and that did, indeed, soothe me.

  “Lady Tirzah,” he said eventually, “I heard what the Chad’zina said. I am sorry, for I do not mean to pry.”

  I sniffed and sat up.

  “Why did she say the baby must die?” he asked.

  Holdat had been delighted when I’d first told him of the child, and I could imagine his hurt now.

  “Holdat,” I said, and sighed. Would he understand the truth if I told him? But anything less than the truth, after what he had done for Boaz and me over the months, and after what he’d just heard, would be an insult.

  So I told him.

  “Oh, Lady Tirzah,” he said as I drifted to a close. “Is there no way you can tell if the child has been harmed or not?”

  “Isphet and I have done our best, but we cannot see behind the protective barriers of the womb.”

  “Well then, there is only one thing that we can do.”

  He went back to his dark corner, then returned with the Book of the Soulenai.

  “Oh, Holdat, do you think I have not considered that? I have read it constantly these past months, and it has told me nothing.”

  “Nevertheless,” he said, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Look one time for me.”

  I took the book, balancing it awkwardly on my shrinking lap, and flipped through it. All the tales were as they should be. There was nothing that could aid my plight.

  I sighed again, but just as I was closing the heavy leather cover, the contents page caught my eye.

  “What is it?” Holdat asked.

  “Uh, the tales are all familiar and unhelpful, but the contents page is different. Look.”

  “Lady, you know that I cannot read.”

  “Oh, sorry. Listen…”

  1. Once about Lake Juit

  2. Lake Juit and the Sun

  3. The Day the King came to Lake Juit

  4. How Lake Juit was formed

  5. Lake Juit Boating Procedures explained

  6. Picnic at Lake Juit

  7. Walks and Paths about Lake Juit

  8. How the Soulenai passed by Lake Juit

  9. Dawn on Lake Juit

  10. Through the Mists of Lake Juit

  11. The Frogs of Lake Juit

  12. Lake Juit

  13. Lake Juit

  14. Lake Juit

  “And so on,” I said. “There are another fifteen titles, all simply ‘Lake Juit’.”

  “And do the tales within match the titles on the contents page?”

  “No, they do not. All that is different is that one page. Ah, this tells me nothing!”

  “Lady, you know what it tells you.” He put the book back in its box, then he walked to the door and bowed. “I shall pack and be ready in the morning,” he said, then he was gone.

  That night I dreamed.

  I dreamed I was walking through the summer meadows of Viland, and I was very afraid.

  The grass brushed cool and damp about my ankles, and the fragrance of flowers teased at my senses.

  Tirzah! Tirzah!

  I moaned, and ran, but I was encumbered even in this dream, and the child dragged at my belly and my robes tangled about my legs.

  Tirzah! Tirzah!

  I was running through a great wasteland where heat throbbed and snatched at my breath and life. I cried, slowing. Would I never escape?

  Tirzah! Tirzah!

  I stumbled on, sobs rasping in my throat, and I ran across a land all of stone where pyramids watched my passing with great black, glassy eyes that followed, followed, followed…

  Tirzah! Tirzah!

  I couldn’t get away. The voice would not let me go.

  Tirzah! Tirzah!

  “Boaz!” I sobbed. “Boaz!”

  Tirzah? Are you there? Help me, Tirzah, help me!

  Boaz!

  The stone cooled and softened beneath my feet, and I saw I was running through earth newly turned and fresh with burgeoning life.

  I thought I saw him, a hint, a shadow only, and I ran harder.

  Tirzah? Can you hear me? Help me! Please, please help me!

  “Oh gods, Boaz! How? How?”

  River reeds tangled about me and I fell, tumbling over and over, through water, beneath water. I fought my way to the surface, screaming as I exhaled. “Boaz? Where are you?”

  Red and pink flames roared about me – birds, millions of them, lifting into the dawn air.

  Juit birds.

  Tirzah…Tirzah…the baby, Tirzah. The baby? How is the baby?

  I woke, surprised to find myself in my bed and not tangled in reeds.

  I lay still for a very long time, my hand on my belly, a small smile on my face, peace in my heart.

  Boaz had not been warning about the baby at all. He had been asking after it!

  “Isphet?”

  “Hmm?” She had come in to wish me a good morning.

  “Isphet, I’m hungry. Will you tell Holdat to bring a large breakfast this morning?”

  She looked at me.

  “And then, Isphet, we are going to pack. I think I would like to give birth at Lake Juit. Please, indulge me in this.”

  50

  SHE was instantly suspicious.

  “Please, Isphet. I am sick of Setkoth, and the peace of the lake is what I need for my final months. Please.”

  “I will come with you,” she said carefully.

  “That would be nice, Isphet. Do you think Layla might like to come too? And Zabrze? It would provide peace for all of us after the confusions and sadnesses of the past few months. Besides, Lake Juit is where Boaz was born. Please, Isphet. I want to go. I would feel close to him there.”

  She gave in.

  We embarked three days later, me, Isphet, Layla and dog, Kiamet and Holdat and several units of soldiers.

  “But I’ll be down for the birth,” Zabrze said. “I’ll not miss the arrival of my first niece or nephew.”

  Isphet had the grace to look uncomfortable. I felt sorry for her. In her position I hoped I would have the strength to do the same thing. But Isphet did not understand, and if I told her of my dream then she would think it only a phantasm of a woman determined to protect her child.

  Zabrze stepped back and looked at the soldiers. “They’ll provide protection,” he said, and threw a puzzled look at Isphet. “No-one has been down to the Juit estate since…since Nzame disappeared.”

  “All will be well,” I said. “Memmon has sent report that the land blooms as never before.”

  Memmon had woken from his entombment with everyone else when Boaz had dragged Nzame into Infinity. I wondered if the experience had improved his temper at all.

  “Goodbye, Zabrze. Do not linger overlong here in Setkoth.”

  The journey was uneventful. We passed Threshold that first day. The capstone had gone, and I noticed that Zabrze had ordered the entire pyramid covered with reed matting.

  The Infinity Chamber must be dark and lifeless.

  I turned back to the river. I did not know why I had to go to Lake Juit, but I trusted the Book of the Soulenai.

  My sleep had been uneventful and dreamless, and my days peaceful. I ate well now, disturbed by how weak I’d grown in those months fretting about both Boaz and our child. The baby moved about in my womb, and I leaned back in my chair and enjoyed the warmth of the sun.

  Isphet ordered a leisurely trip, and she was pleased that I so enjoyed it. The river air was sweet, and the frogs sang well into the day and still further into the night.

  Ten days after leaving we arrived at Lake Juit. Kiamet helped me to my feet, and I stood and gazed, entranced. It was far more beautiful than I remembered, the lake spreading for leagues in every direction, the marshes and reeds stretching even further.

 
A voice broke my reverie. Memmon, standing on the landing, the house rising serene and graceful behind him.

  By his feet sat Fetizza, croaking cheerfully.

  I gasped, then laughed. No-one had seen the frog for months. She had disappeared with Boaz’s departure, and I had thought that perhaps her existence was somehow tied to his.

  But here she was, now looking irritably at the dog barking by Layla’s side, and her presence was surely nothing but a good omen.

  Isphet kept close but companionable watch on me. We spent our days wandering the riverbanks, or sitting in the shade of the verandahs, sipping iced fruit wine and gossiping.

  “Do you remember…?” one of us would ask, and we would mention a moment, or a friend, or a day in the hot workshop that had somehow been memorable.

  Isphet thought she was helping me grieve, helping me let go of the past.

  I was simply passing time, waiting, watching for something that I did not yet recognise. And so I would talk softly and smile, and take another sip from the Goblet of the Frogs.

  Kiamet and Holdat were constant companions as well, always at hand to offer sweetmeats, or iced wine, or conversation. Layla spent many evenings with me, asking about Viland, and listening to me read from the Book of the Soulenai.

  The weeks passed. The sun rose and set over Lake Juit and the marshes…

  …it was the marshes, I knew that now, something about the marshes…

  …and the mist formed, thickened, and then dissipated with each dawn and dusk.

  My belly swelled.

  The soldiers patrolled and stood about my window at night.

  Memmon grumbled about the accounts.

  And Isphet relaxed.

  She confided that she was with child herself, and I smiled, and said that she’d be hard put to beat Neuf’s total at her age.

  Isphet blushed, and changed the subject. I knew she was embarrassed, not at my comment, but at the fact that she should be bearing a child which presented no threat.

  Neither of us talked about my approaching confinement.