The Threshold Child (34 page)

She lay beside the fire, curled up in a ball. Her head rested in
the curve of Ravi’s body and E’nes sat absently toying with a strand of her
hair. She found their proximity comforting.

“Ravi?” she asked softly.

Her guardian lowered his head closer to hers. “Yes, Ma’eve?”

“Is it possible for a Dream to be a lie?” She held her breath as
she waited for him to answer,
not knowing what
response she feared more.

“No, dear one,” he said gently, “Dreams never lie.”

Her fists clenched tightly, and her brother placed a comforting
hand over hers. She
automatically flinched away from his touch and his arm retreated.
She regretted her reaction, but was too proud to reach out to him. Instead, she
hugged herself more closely and shut her eyes against the tears she felt
forming.

“It cannot be true,” she said more to herself than to anyone else.

She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. And yet,
as Ravi had said, it could not be a lie.

The people she had always felt closest to were murderers and liars.
She felt she was more alone than ever. For as long as she could remember,
Adesina had taken great comfort in the solidity of the Shimat order. There were
rules and regulations; everything was consistent and unflinching. It was
something that could always be counted on, and it was something of which she
was a part. No matter how many questions had plagued Adesina’s mind, of that
she had been sure.

In the times when Basha, her oldest enemy, would persecute her or
make dishonorable decisions, Adesina comforted herself in knowing that Basha
would never be among the great Shimat. That Basha, who saw no good in the world
and gave back even less than that, would never rise above the mediocre Shimat
because she lacked that higher vision that set the Shimat apart from the rest
of the world.

The Shimat had been something elite in Adesina’s eyes. They were
the peacekeepers, the silent heroes, the shadows that allowed the light to
exist.

But now…

Now she saw them for what they truly were. Now she had seen things
through her mother’s eyes.

“They took her,” she whispered, “and they beat her so badly she
could not move. They did not care if she lived or died, just as long as they
got what they wanted.”

E’nes frowned. “Who?”

“The Shimat took our mother.”

He cringed at her words, as if they had physically seared him.
“You saw all of that?”

 
She nodded. “Mother showed
me her memories.”

Her brother did his best to hide his tears. He passed a hand over
his eyes, as if shading them from the light of the campfire. “Father was
frantic when she disappeared. He spent more than a year searching for the two
of you. I rarely saw him during that time, and it felt as if I had lost both of
my parents.”

For the first time, Adesina stopped thinking of her own pain and
turned her thoughts to her brother. She pushed herself into a sitting position
and looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. “Where did you live while he was
gone?”

 
“With our grandparents,” he
replied. “Our father’s parents. I grew very close to Ri’sel during that time.
He became like a second father to me.”

She searched for the right words to say in a situation such as
this. “I am sorry. For me, growing up without parents was simply how things
were. No one around me had family either, so it was accepted as normal. It must
have been harder for you because you could remember what it was like to have a
mother and father.”

“I do not blame him,” E’nes insisted hastily, almost as if he were
trying to convince himself of the statement. “I would do the same for those I
loved.”

Ravi said what neither sibling wanted to say. “Still, he should
not have forgotten his son in his search for his daughter.”

The silence that followed was heavy, only broken by the crackling
of the wood on the fire. Adesina slowly laid back down, but kept her eyes wide
open.

“You should rest, Ma’eve,” the Rashad advised. “Go to sleep and
relieve your mind from troubling thoughts.”

She shook her head. “I cannot sleep. I am afraid I will Dream
again.”

He sighed as if the weight of the world lay on his shoulders. “I
know that fear well, dear one.”

Adesina lifted her head to look him in the eye. “What do you do,
then?”

A sad smile brushed his lips. “I go to sleep anyway. The Dreams
come whether we want them to or not. They give us the knowledge we need to make
the choices we must.”

These words sunk in as she laid her head back down. Reluctantly,
fearfully, she closed her eyes and let the Dream take her.

Adesina was standing in the Garden again. E’rian sat at the edge
of the fountain, trailing her fingers through the crystal water. She glanced up
at her daughter, looking sad.

“So, you have come again.”

The young woman nodded. “I did not really have a choice in the
matter.”

E’rian got to her feet and hesitantly approached her daughter. Her
voice trembled with emotion. “I am sorry to cause you such pain, Ma’eve.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No, it is not your fault.”

Her mother sighed softly. “I wanted you to have the truth.”

“I know,” she said, “and I am grateful for that.”

A questioning glint appeared in E’rian’s eyes. “But?”

Adesina felt tears welling up in her eyes, but for the first time
since becoming a Shi, she didn’t care. “I do not understand. I thought Signe
was a good woman. I thought the Shimat…” She trailed off, shaking her head and
angrily wiping her eyes.

E’rian embraced her daughter. She considered the choice before her
of how to best ease Adesina’s mind. “Ma’eve, I wish I could simply soothe you
with kind words, but that will not help you to heal. The only thing that will
allow you to overcome this hardship is the truth, even if you do not want it.”

Her daughter nodded immediately. “I do want the truth.”

She looked closely into her eyes. “It will not be easy to accept.
It will be a painful experience, but with the truth you can learn to move on.”

Adesina paused, making sure that this was really what she wanted.
“I want to know everything.”

E’rian took her daughter by the hand. “Come with me.”

She was startled by her mother’s determined tone. “Where are we
going?”

“We are going to visit those who can give you the answers you
seek.”

They walked from the Garden to a door in the white marble corridor
that lay beyond. The wood of the door was ornately carved with vines and
flowers. The latch had a silver bird with delicate wings and glittering jewels
for eyes. E’rian placed her hand on its finely wrought body and lifted, pushing
the door open.

The room beyond was dimly lit, with the fireplace as the only
source of light. The walls were covered in weapons arranged in various designs,
and the large table in the center of the room was overspread with maps.

Adesina lowered her voice, even though she wasn’t quite sure why.
“What are we doing here?”

E’rian held up a finger, urging patience.

A burly man sat in a large velvet armchair, watching their
entrance. He had a dark complexion and was dressed in a strange fashion. There
were ruffles on the edges of the clothing and quite a bit of gathered fabric.
It reminded Adesina of one of the few illustrations found in one of the history
books she had read in the Shimat library.

“What do you want?” he asked in a voice that was rough but not unfriendly.

E’rian smiled at his abrupt manner. “We need one of your
memories.”

The man nodded in understanding. “Which one?”

“The night you were executed.”

His features darkened in anger. “Ah.”

He stood and set aside the book he had been holding in his lap.
Adesina appraised him as he approached. He was much taller than she
anticipated, and he held himself like a warrior. He stopped a couple of feet
away from Adesina and held out his hand. E’rian gestured her daughter forward
with an encouraging expression on her face.

The young woman took his hand, momentarily surprised by his gentle
grip. There was a pause before a flash of light enveloped her vision and she
felt a strange tingling pass through her body. When the light disappeared
again, they were no longer standing in the room to which E’rian had led her.
Adesina looked at her surroundings in confusion.

They stood together, still clasping hands, in what appeared to be
the attic of a derelict house. E’rian was nowhere to be seen, which caused
Adesina some alarm. She glanced towards the windows in an attempt to ascertain
where they were, but the windows were boarded shut.

“Where are we?” she demanded of the burly man grasping her hand.

He looked around the room, his face filled with emotion. “We are
inside my memory.”

She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he tightened his grip.
“Do not break the connection, or you will be pulled out of my memory.”

One large candle flickered in the center of the room, but its
light was hardly adequate. It took Adesina’s eyes a moment to separate the
flickering shadows around her. To her dismay, she discovered that they were not
alone in the room.

There were several figures wearing black cloaks with the hoods
pulled down to hide their faces. They stood in a semicircle on one side of the
room, while the other side held only three shadowed figures.

“Do you know why you are here?” asked the foremost of the three
silhouettes. It was a deep, commanding voice, pronouncing each word in clipped
tones.

“No, your Majesty,” replied one in the semicircle.

The tension in the room jumped even higher as the figure was given
a title. It was as if they didn’t want to acknowledge whose presence they were
in.

Adesina frowned in confusion. “Can they not see us?” she asked her
guide.

The man shook his head, but said nothing. She looked around,
trying to piece together what was going on. There were very few monarchies left
in the world, and those remaining had practically been reduced to feudal lords.
That meant that this memory must have taken place several hundred years ago.
Her line of thinking was interrupted by the king’s overbearing voice.

“You who are gathered here are the best assassins in the realm.
What is more impressive is that you are also the least known. Your skill in
being undetected goes beyond your work; so much so that, to the civilized
world, none of you exist.”

The figures in the semicircle shifted restlessly. They already
knew this.

The king puffed out his chest in self-importance. “For this
reason, I propose an alliance.”

A surprised pause followed this declaration. One of the forms
across the room sneered. “Why would we want an alliance with you?”

 
“And more importantly,”
inserted another shadow, “why would you want an alliance with us?”

The monarch let those questions linger for dramatic effect. “I
offer you permanent amnesty and generous funding in exchange for your exclusive
services and pledged loyalty.”

The air was filled with a mixture of emotions: surprise,
apprehension, irritation, and cautious excitement. It was a while before the
silence was broken.

The sneering silhouette shook his head. “I will not be the king’s
dog.”

He twitched aside the corner of his cloak and swept out of the
room. Several others followed him, but the remaining six shadows stood in a
thoughtful silence.

“Is this to be a written contract?” asked one of the remaining
shadows.

Adesina could hear the grim smile in the king’s voice. “I would
prefer to have as little documentation in this affair as possible.”

Another voice spoke, this one female. “Who else is to know about
this?”

He made a circling gesture. “Only those of us in this room.”

“None of your counselors or military leaders are privy to this
endeavor?” she asked curiously.

The king’s tone became a touch sharper. “That is what I said.”

“How long is this arrangement to continue?” asked another shadow.

The ruler’s voice was unflinching. “As long as I and my posterity
are living.”

Each of the six remaining shadows considered the offer for several
minutes. Then, one by one, they got on their knees and pledged their loyalty to
the king. Adesina strained to hear the words they spoke, but the memory had
taken on a fuzzy quality.

Her vision was once again engulfed in light, and she found herself
standing back in the room with her mother and the burly man.

She looked around, feeling a bit disoriented. “What happened
next?”

The man moved away from her and sat down in his velvet chair. “One
of the assassins killed me and the other King’s Guard, after insisting that
there be no witnesses. I assume that those who refused the king’s offer did not
live much longer.”