Threshold

48

“HE’S gone. They’ve both gone,” Isphet said to Zabrze. “It’s over.”

Is it? Is it? My hand slipped to my belly.

Zabrze turned aside for a moment; he had lost a brother as I had lost a husband. “Setkoth?” he said finally.

“Yes,” Isphet said. “Setkoth. We need to get Tirzah…we all need to get away from here.”

“I’ll have the soldiers organised into work gangs,” Zabrze said, “and pull this thing –”

“No!” I wrenched out of Isphet’s hands. “No,” I repeated more quietly. “Zabrze, please, leave it for the time being. Boaz might come back. Threshold should remain intact, just in case.”

It was a poor argument, I knew, but I did not want to see the Infinity Chamber destroyed. Not yet. Just in case.

“Tirzah. I cannot leave it as it is. It’s complete, and too dangerous. I’ll order the capstone removed, but not destroyed. And the entrance to be blocked up. If need be, these measures can be reversed. But I will not leave it intact for something else to seep into it!”

I nodded. He was right.

“Tirzah,” Isphet hugged me close. “When we get back to Setkoth, we’ll look into the Place Beyond. That may comfort you.”

Yes, and perhaps Boaz’s shade could tell me…give me some indication…I felt queasy, and wondered if I had not escaped pregnancy sickness after all.

Nzame had gone – somewhere – but had he gone far enough and completely enough for his enchantments over land and people to dissipate? Stone cracked and shattered; stone-men revived to wander and blunder as aimlessly as they had when entombed. As Isphet and I stood on the deck of the river boat watching the banks slip by, we realised that we would both have to spend time ministering to the land and people. Life had revived, but it was saddened and lost.

I would not be allowed much time to grieve.

“Perhaps we can send word to Yaqob,” Isphet said. “We will need help.”

“Perhaps.”

“And those ten thousand stone-men, released, must be wandering the plains between Setkoth and the Darsis border, completely bewildered and without food or clothing. Something must be done about them. Soon. The soldiers left with them will not cope.”

“Yes.”

“Iraldur can do something on his way home.”

“Yes.”

“Tirzah, Ashdod needs you, its people need you. Don’t slip into a useless morass of self-pity.”

I rounded on her, furious. “Do I not even get an hour alone to grieve, Isphet? Must I shrug my shoulders and say, ‘Well, what’s done is done’?”

“Tirzah –”

“All you can do is stand there and tell me to roll up my sleeves, for work awaits! Do it yourself, Isphet! Call Yaqob if you wish, but I want nothing to do with it!”

And I strode away into one of the cabins, slamming the door behind me.

Once there I stood in the centre of the cool room, staring about uselessly. My face crumpled, and I began to cry, sinking down to the floor, wrapping my arms about myself and rocking to and fro.

Boaz was gone. He had become so much a part of my life, so much my complete life, that it was difficult to realise I’d loved him only a year. And then I’d lost him.

Anger replaced grief. Curse him! To leave me like this! To so steal my life and then leave me!

And to tell me to kill the child as well. I should do it. I knew the risks. But the threat to the child had just been one more of Nzame’s lies…hadn’t it? And Nzame had truly gone, for otherwise the land would not regenerate so spontaneously…would it?

The child would be easy to scathe away now. It had scarcely taken hold, its life still tenuous. A herbal, a night of discomfort and cramps, and then it would be gone.

But it was all I had left of Boaz.

And surely it hadn’t been infested by Nzame. I had felt nothing. And I would have felt something…wouldn’t I?

Curse Boaz for leaving me and, in leaving me, telling me to rid my body of his child. That had been the Magus talking. He hadn’t wanted the child because even after so many months of repressing that side of himself he was still revolted by the idea of a child, of subdividing the One.

Yes. That was it. Boaz just didn’t like children. Didn’t want to subdivide.

He knew Nzame had been lying, but Nzame’s threat had been a good reason to frighten me into ridding myself of his child.

Yes. Well, curse him! I wasn’t going to do it! Had he not hurt me enough already? Anyway, there were still some weeks before the ridding would become dangerous. I could wait. Make sure.

I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. Isphet and I could talk to the Soulenai – talk to Boaz’s shade. Boaz could tell me that all was well, that Nzame was trapped in Infinity. The baby was safe. He would be glad I hadn’t aborted it.

I smiled, thinking. I was repeating the pattern of Boaz’s father and his Tirzah. The father dead, the young wife pregnant. Continuing Avaldamon’s magical line.

I stood up and brushed myself down. Boaz had been wrong. Everything would be all right.

Zabrze was Chad, Nzame was defeated, but life would need help before it reverted to normal. I apologised to Isphet, she hugged me and cried too, and we did what we could.

We did not contact the Soulenai or the Place Beyond for several weeks, because Isphet and I thought Boaz would have a difficult journey from Infinity and it would take time. So we waited. I told Isphet about the baby, and she cried and laughed and patted my cheek and rushed to tell Zabrze.

I did not tell her about Nzame’s threat, and she did not think to connect the question I’d asked the glass in the Infinity Chamber with my pregnancy.

The stone had retreated across Ashdod, but left disorder and sometimes destruction in its path. Iraldur agreed to leave five thousand of his men in Ashdod to help. People trickled back into the country from wherever they’d fled, only slowly, but they were coming home. Within days Zabrze had organised work parties to begin the reclamation of the land from the chaos.

People were more difficult. Many had died, no-one really knew how many, but Threshold had claimed the lives of thousands in one way or another. Other lives, principally those who had been released from their entombment in stone, would never be the same again. Iraldur’s men herded back to Setkoth great crowds of disorientated and emotionally bruised people.

Isphet, Layla and I spent most of our time with these people, talking, explaining, trying to give hope. Of us all, Layla had the most success. She could remember her own experience, and explain to them why they felt so confused and restless. Most had nightmares that frightened and threatened them without giving a form to that fear. Layla would take their hand and soothe them, often without words.

Isphet was practical, and sometimes that was what they needed. I wandered uselessly for a day or two, not knowing what comfort to give, until I remembered the Book of the Soulenai.

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

I read to them what tales I thought would help, and even though many of the tales held little direct relevance to their experience, the people would sit about, as close to my knee as they could get, and listen with peaceful eyes and gentle smiles. They liked to hear of the Soulenai, and Holdat told me one day that many of those I’d read to spent their evenings down by the reed banks of the Lhyl, listening to the Song of the Frogs.

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

Zabrze had, as was his right, appropriated the royal palace in Setkoth, and Isphet and I moved in. Isphet as his wife and now Chad’zina, I as a royal in my own right, both of us as Necromancers.

Setkoth accepted us with few raised eyebrows and almost no comment. Everyone had lost family or friends; Chad-Zabrze’s loss had been worse than many others, and no-one blamed him for taking a new wife. Isphet’s background as a slave was known…but stranger things had gripped this land recently than a slave marrying royalty.

And as for our arts as Necromancers, well, they were accepted too. There were no Magi left, and the way of the

One had disappeared with them. Elementals moved about openly now. A number had travelled with us from the Abyss, and more were travelling to Setkoth; one group was bringing Zhabroah back to his father. Old ways quickly resurfaced; Elemental magic had been banned, not exterminated.

Amid all this activity my mind returned to Boaz constantly. I worried about the child – perhaps I should have rid my womb of it when Boaz died. My sleep was disturbed by nameless dreams – sometimes I thought I heard desperate voices calling my name, thought I saw hands reaching out to me, pleading, but I assumed it was only the effect of watching the faces and hands press against the glass of Threshold that dreadful day.

But mostly I thought of Boaz. I missed him dreadfully. I missed not living my day for him, I missed not planning my every move about his, I missed the arguments, the tensions, the love. Above all, I missed him as a friend, for he had been my only true confidante, and I had been his.

It was cruel that it should have ended like this.

Three weeks after we’d arrived in Setkoth, Isphet came to my room. She brought Layla with her.

“Tonight,” she said, and my shoulders slumped in relief. I had thought this moment would never come. I’d considered trying myself, but I wanted Isphet’s support.

Now I’d have Layla as well. I knew Isphet had been instructing her in the Elemental arts, and tonight would be her first experience of contact with the Soulenai and the Place Beyond.

There was a circular bathing pool deep in the palace. I’d avoided using it because it reminded me too vividly of the vaulted pool Boaz and I had shared at Threshold, but Isphet said it would suit our needs well.

I ran my fingers through my hair, nervous, excited. I would see Boaz again! A shade only, but it would be his spirit, his essence, and even that would console me.

A movement, and it was Isphet and Layla; Isphet cool and calm, Layla as excited as I, if for different reasons. Both kissed me, and Isphet stroked my cheek with the back of her hand.

“Soon,” she whispered, “but now you must be strong for Layla. This is her first time, and she has not the ability of you or Boaz. Be strong for her, support her.”

Isphet’s power no longer needed the help of the metalled powders. She made sure that Layla and I stood calm and focused by her side, then she cast out her arm.

The water swirled.

Excitement threatened to overwhelm me, but I calmed myself and concentrated, feeling Layla’s nervousness and reaching out to her with my own power.

Isphet’s hand arced again, and the vivid colours swirled within the water.

“Watch the colours, Layla. Feel them. Listen to them…listen…can you feel us listening as well? Can you feel me? Can you feel Tirzah?”

“Yes,” Layla whispered.

Feel. Listen. Submit.

It was so sweet to submit to the Soulenai. Oh…I closed my eyes, feeling their power ripple through me, explore, touch, soothe.

I exhaled, then took another great breath. Beside me Layla hesitated, then submitted, and I shared her wonder at her first intimate contact with the Soulenai.

They surged through me, excited, almost frenetic, and I thought that it was because it had been so long…so long…

I opened my eyes and let the swirling colours carry me deeper into the embrace of the Soulenai, feeling Isphet and Layla race beside me, feeling the Soulenai…feeling…revelling in their presence and their touch.

Tirzah! Tirzah!

Yes, I am here.

Tirzah! Tirzah! What is wrong?

I have been sad, but now –

No! No! Something is wrong. Where is Boaz? Where is –

I shrieked, and instantly felt Isphet wrap me in her power, maintaining my contact with the Soulenai.

Where is Boaz? Did he not understand the Song of the Frogs? He should be here! He should –

I cried out again, and now Isphet physically touched me as she spoke to the Soulenai. He understood. But…do you not know what happened?

He disappeared.

And Nzame? I cried out to them. And Nzame? Where has he gone? WHERE?

They both disappeared. Vanished. We could not follow them where they went.

Into Infinity?

Possibly. We would not be able to follow them there.

I calmed myself using all the courage I had. It must be a long and difficult journey from Infinity into the Place Beyond.

Perhaps. We hope that is what it is. Maybe Boaz and Nzame still battle through Infinity and he has not yet had a chance to sing the Song of the Frogs.

And maybe Boaz was dead and Nzame…

Isphet extended her power, and we glimpsed into the Place Beyond. All we saw was agitation, hands reaching, faces pleading…

“I’m sorry, Isphet,” I said aloud. “But I do not think I can stand any more of this.”

She farewelled the Soulenai and broke the contact.

“Tirzah. The Soulenai were right. Time means nothing in the Place Beyond, or in Infinity. Boaz may still be in Infinity, not knowing that the Soulenai cry out for him.”

I lowered my eyes.

“Layla,” Isphet said softly, “this is all we will do tonight. Go back to your father, tell him what has happened.”

“Yes.” Layla kissed my cheek.

“Come,” Isphet said, and led me back to my apartment.

“Tirzah, be strong. There is nothing either of us can do but wait. We will try again in a week.”

I nodded.

She stared at me, then held me close. “I will stay with you,” she said, “for it is not a night for you to be alone.”

But Boaz was alone, somewhere, whether in death or Infinity.

We tried again in a week. Nothing but the Soulenai, asking, pleading – Where is Boaz?

Save for the growing mound of my belly, I grew thin and pale, losing interest in life. I lay for hours, clutching the Goblet of the Frogs to my breast.

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…