Sharon Shinn - Gateway

Out from behind the tumbling water, back on the formal pathways that led through the aviary, Daiyu opened her parasol and strolled toward the gate. She moved as if she was in no great hurry, pausing every once in a while to admire one of the streaks of bright red that painted the humid air. She glanced back only once, to see Kalen on his knees, scrubbing a stone bench. He did not even look up as she stepped through the gate and back to the car where the driver sat waiting.

THE FOLLOWING DAYS were devoted entirely to getting ready for the Presentation Ball, which was only four days away. How could it be so soon? Daiyu thought, as something like dread washed over her. She knew that the minute she snapped the bracelet on Chenglei’s wrist, her time in Shenglang was effectively over. Oh, she might be able to stay another day or two, curious to see how the city changed once Chenglei was gone, but there was no reason for her to linger.

One reason, of course.

Every time she thought about leaving Kalen behind, she had a moment when she actually could not breathe. It was bad enough knowing she would never see him again-never have a chance to watch his face light up when he caught sight of her-never tuck her hand in his and feel, for as long as she held on to him, that she was safe and the world was good. But knowing that once she left Jia, she would leave behind all memories of Kalen, made her absolutely frantic. She could not forget his shy smile and his easy way of speaking. She could not forget those magical kisses behind the shimmering wall of translucent water. Surely Kalen’s face had been imprinted on her heart, a shape and a memory that she would carry with her no matter what dimension she called home.

To distract herself from her constant anxiety over Kalen, she tried to throw herself wholeheartedly into preparations for the ball. She submitted uncomplainingly to the final round of dress fittings; she sniffed dozens of perfumes as she and Xiang worked together to find Daiyu’s perfect scent. She exclaimed in unfeigned wonder as Xiang spread the contents of her jewelry box on a table in her ornate parlor.

“Aunt! What beautiful gems you have! I’ve never seen anything like these!”

“No, and you never will again, though Mei thinks her own jewels are worth as much as mine,” Xiang replied, preening a little. With her long lacquered nails, she picked through the necklaces,theearrings,thepins,therings,thebracelets.“When we chose the fabric for your dress, I had thought it might look best with pearls and sapphires, but now I am wondering. I believe qiji stones would go with it even better. What do you think?”

And she picked up a short strand of exquisite pink gems thickly clustered on a slim gold chain.

Daiyu could only stare.

There had to be a hundred qiji stones on this necklace, so many it would take a stonepicker months to mine them from the river. That was shocking enough all by itself, but Daiyu also was amazed to finally see what a polished qiji looked like-and to realize that she recognized it. It was a qiji that the old woman had handed her back at Fair Saint Louis; it was a qiji that had pulled her through the Arch into this iteration. She had been enthralled with the very first one she had seen, and she’d had no idea what it was.

“My dress is-is blue,” she stammered.

“Yes, but the accents are not,” Xiang said. Very true; the neckline and the last quarter of the sleeves were heavily embroidered in pink and rose and coral. “Just think how this color would draw out those shades!”

“I would love to wear something as beautiful as this necklace,” Daiyu said honestly. Xiang still held it out in her extended hand, so Daiyu gently touched the glowing pink gems. An electric tingle ran up her fingertips, magnified by the number of stones.

“And the earrings,” Xiang said. “And the bracelet. Here. Try them on.”

It was like wearing a collar that hummed and buzze daround her throat; the earrings jangled against her cheeks, and her wrist was alive with sparkles. Even against the ordinary dull beige of Daiyu’s shirt, the gems glowed with a scarcely banked fire. She gazed at herself in the chrome mirror, astonished that the qiji gems weren’t throwing out visible flares.

“Oh, if I could take something like this home with me,” Daiyu said with a sigh. “Even one qiji . I would remember my days in Shenglang for the rest of my life.”

Xiang didn’t seem offended by the covetous note in Daiyu’s voice; she actually seemed pleased at Daiyu’s reaction. “Well, as to that, who knows how long it will be before you go home,” she said in her usual calculating way. “You might choose tostay. You might choose to marry. You never know what could happen.”

Daiyu nodded silently and continued to watch herself in the chrome, turning this way and that to see how the pink of the shimmering stones threw a subtle color into her cheeks. Xiang, of course, was imagining Daiyu married to Quan instead of returning to her dreary parental home in the disease-stricken northwest; but Daiyu was wondering what it would be like to live with Kalen in Shenglang instead of returning to St. Louis where she belonged.

Two days before the Presentation Ball, Aurora brought her a note from Kalen. “He drew this for you because he thought you might want to remember the stonepickers once you’d gone home,” Aurora said, smiling a little. “But he’s not much of an artist.”

Daiyu took the picture from her and laughed out loud. It was obvious he had tried to sketch in the dam, the bell tower, the red gate, a pedestrian bridge, and the stonepickers themselves, bent double over the muddy riverbed as they dropped items into their shoulder bags. But the perspectives were sadly off and a number of erasures had worn the paper through in spots.

“I don’t suppose I would have done any better,” Daiyu said. She gave Aurora a straight look, somewhat challenging. “Can I see him before I go to the ball?”

Aurora assumed the speculative and tense expression she usually wore these days when Daiyu mentioned Kalen, as if she was always wondering how Daiyu’s fondness for the cangbai boy could bring this whole delicate mission crashing down. “Unless Xiang permits you to visit the aviary again, I am not sure how.”

“Then afterward?” Daiyu said. “Once the ball is over? And Chenglei is-is gone? Can I see him then?”

“Before you return to your home?” Aurora said. “Yes, I’m sure we can arrange that.”

Daiyu nodded, as if that satisfied her. “Good. Make sure you thank him for sending me this picture.”

“I will.”

The minute Aurora left, Daiyu examined the paper intently, looking for a hidden message. Not until she turned it over did she see the careless words scrawled on the back and crossed out, as if this page had been used as scrap paper before it had been turned into an artist’s canvas. There was a column of numbers added up, a list that might have been a reminder about groceries, and then two words: TOMORROW AFTERNOON.

Daiyu carefully folded the paper and tucked it inside the red silk pouch that held the rose quartz stone. She never went anywhere without the quartz in her pocket; if she suddenly had to depart for her home iteration, she didn’t want to risk leaving this precious memento behind.

Xiang was not enthusiastic about Daiyu’s plan to visit the aviary one more time, but Daiyu allowed herself to show a little agitation over breakfast. “I keep thinking about how important tomorrow is-and what I must say and must not say-and it makes me very nervous,” she said, casting her eyes down and biting her lip. “I find the birds and the garden very soothing.”