Kati was awakened before dawn by the baby's pounding on her bladder and got out of bed. Huomeng mumbled something in his sleep and flopped over on his back, an arm draped across his face.
She put on a robe to ward off the morning chill, went out to the balcony overlooking the city from the imperial suite, and sat on the stone bench there to watch the sky brighten. Tengri-Khan was up, but still behind the mountain. The distant summits of Three Peaks were already dully illuminated in deep red, and only Tengri-Nayon was visible in the sky.
Kati sighed, and ran both hands over her distended stomach. There was further movement within her, something hard, perhaps a heel, making a little wave across her flesh. "Ooo, you are so active this morning! Yesui, my darling baby girl! I think you're in a hurry to be born."
She patted her stomach softly, and the movement ceased, but only for a moment. Now it felt like a hand, with little fingers exploring, a tickling feeling, and warm. Kati placed her hand at the site, and returned the warmth. She closed her eyes, and felt the child's presence in an abstract, instinctive way, like knowing that someone is in a dark room with you without seeing them. No visions, only a kind of alertness, and she knew her thoughts were received, without response.
The doctors had verified her child was a girl, but somehow she'd known it before then. Kati had named her Yesui because she liked the sound of it, and Huomeng had agreed with her. It was a sweet name for a child conceived the night before a battle that had left her mother scarred on one leg, Kati thought. It could have been no other time, for she'd spent two weeks regaining her strength, and then they'd restrained themselves from coming together until after their second wedding in the Kereit ordu by the sea.
Less than a year since war and death, and now the Empress of Shanji was nearly bursting to bring forth new life. The time had passed so quickly; she was just getting started in her duties, and now there would be a delay while her child was born.
The Emperor had lingered on for three months after being informed of his son's death, and Weimeng had been there for his final breath. Mengmoshu had taken over the duties of court, and continued his lobbying with the nobles until the body of Wang Shan-shi-jie was interred in a mountain vault next to his son's. A vote by the nobles had been solicited by Kati's father, and one month after the Emperor's death, Kati—formally Wang Mengnu-Shan-shi-jie—was installed as Empress in a quiet ceremony attended by nobles, Moshuguang, and Weimeng. Yang Xifeng had refused the invitation, and still remained in the private suite Kati had provided for her, mourning over the loss of husband and son. The woman had completely withdrawn, and Kati feared for her sanity, but until Yang Xifeng responded to Kati's probing there was nothing she could do to help her.
Kati caressed her stomach, and talked to her child while Three Peaks changed from red to orange. "People will think you're born too soon, or they will know the truth, but I'll not be the first noble girl to conceive before marriage. When you're older, you can tell them you're a love child, Yesui. They'll understand that." She laughed, and the baby moved inside her. Again Kati felt a relaxing warmth there.
Their civil marriage had been the signing of two papers, but Goldani would not stand for something so simple. She'd given them a great feast in the Kereit ordu; the hills had been covered with the gerts of visiting Tumatsin, and their first real night together as husband and wife had been spent in a ger within sight of the graves of her parents by the sea. They had placed green stones there before leaving.
So much in a short time: assembling her cabinet, the first meetings, the first arguments, requests for travel to visit her people in the east, Huomeng slaving away to understand the workings of Mandughai's gift shuttles before attempting to fly them, and now childbirth.
"I'll make them give me time for you," she said to the baby. "I'll not allow you to be cared for by a servant, and if they insist on a meeting when you're hungry, I'll suckle you right in front of them. Do you hear me, Yesui? Tickle, tickle."
Kati tickled her stomach; something pressed back, and was gone. Again, there was the feeling of a presence in her mind, a watchful, alert presence. Somehow, it made her feel wonderful. "I want to hold you in my arms right now, and show you what there is to see outside of your tight little place. I want to show you the stars, especially a big orange one that's home to a special lady I already miss. I know she'll like you. Do you see the picture of her I hold in my memory? Now, I'll put another picture beside her. See? That's me, Yesui. You're inside me, now, and my body feeds you. I'm your mother, Yesui."
The baby was now very quiet, as if listening to her.
"I wonder about what you'll be like. Will you inherit any powers from me? Will you have the intelligence and impatience of your father? I promise you will not grow up alone. There will be a brother or sister for you to fight with. It will keep you from being spoiled."
Kati caressed her stomach, but the baby didn't respond. "I think you're listening, Yesui, and seeing the things I show you. Do you see the Three Peaks out there, glowing in morning light? That was my favorite place when I was little. Our sun is behind me. Would you like to see it close?"
The idea had come suddenly. Could her baby go with her on a mental journey? Could there be harm if she tried it? A short journey, so if Yesui were left behind, her mother's presence would be missing for only a minute or so.
"There's a place I go to, a beautiful place with swirling colors, and time doesn't move there. I'll show you our star, and let you touch it if you can. It's a test, Yesui. Watch, now. Watch for the pretty colors."
Kati breathed deeply and closed her eyes, moving slowly, leisurely, so that Yesui might follow her steps if she had the gifts of her mother. She didn't rush to the matrix of purple light-points, but held it there, floating in black void and letting the points grow steadily larger.
We aim for one point, but any will do. We enter at any point, and it will be marked for our return. Slowly, now; getting closer.
A flash, and the swirl of color was there, the purple vortex by her, the deep red of Tengri-Khan's nearby.
Are you here? Do you see it? The purple light? All the universe, the stars, planets, galaxies, were made from this light. Isn't it pretty?
There was a presence with her; she could feel it, and looked for a signature.
Do you see me, Yesui? I show you what I look like to your adopted grandmother in this place we call the gong-shi-jie, the world of light, the place of creation. Do you see my green eyes? What color are yours, Yesui? Show me. Show me you're here!
A wispy tendril of green extended from the vortex leading to herself, still connected there, wavering uncertainly as if fearful of moving further.
Yesui? Is that you? Come with \me. We won't go far.
Kati drifted slowly towards the vortex that was Tengri-Khan, and looked back.
The green tendril was hurrying to catch up with her.
She could barely restrain her joy, and focused hard to keep from being drawn back to herself. Oh, Mandughai! My little girl is with me in the gong-shi-jie, taking her first steps here! Come quick!
There was no response, but now the tendril of green was with her again, close, wavering like a flame. Kati imagined her own aura reaching out to envelope it protectively.
Come with mother, dear.
The flash of transition, so fast, and she was in real space. Would she ever learn how to slow the transition? She concentrated hard, for in real space there were no signatures, not even visible auras, only the mental presence drawing energy from the place of light.
It was there again, but only as a feeling she hoped was not imagination. It was a feeling that she wasn't alone.
Tengri-Khan was close, and active. Three prominences issued from it, and there was a flare spouting near the equator, blowing a hole in the outer atmosphere and spewing ions through it. The flare was hot and bright, and Kati moved north of it to a cooler prominence, reaching out to touch the flame, and draw a wisp of it to her, the wisp a cloud of hot gas the size of Shanji.
Touch it, Yesui. Feel it. It cannot hurt you. Here, I'll bring it closer.
The cloud drew near, swirling madly, and cooling as it came, becoming deep red.
See how pretty? This is a piece of a star, Yesui. Your star. It keeps us warm, and gives us life on Shanji, so we'll leave it here to do its work for us. Follow me closely, now. We're going back.
Now was not the time for another attempt to bring mass with her, and Kati didn't even consider it. She made the transition with some apprehension, not certain that Yesui had even been with her in real space. There was an instant of fear, and then she saw the little, green tendril wavering there, its tail still attached to the deep red vortex of Tengri-Khan.
Did you come with me? Did you see the star, or stay here? This is enough for a first time, and Mandughai still hasn't come to see you. Let's go back, now. Stay close.
The tendril detached from the vortex, and followed her back to the signature of her true self on Shanji. As she descended into it, she looked back to be sure the tendril was right with her, and saw a dark shape writhing along behind them like a snake.
The flash of transition, and then a thunderous crash that echoed all around her. She felt a wave of heat on her face and opened her eyes, nearly blinded by a column of light rising up from Three peaks as if there had been an explosion there. The light dimmed rapidly and she saw a swirling cloud of dust and glowing gas ascending from the peaks to form a flat-topped, roiling mass high overhead. The thunder went on and on, and her child was kicking furiously inside her.
"Kati! Kati, where are you?" The voice was Huomeng's.
Kati gasped, and put her hands on her stomach. What have I done? The pounding was terrible. "Quiet, quiet; we're here, now, and it's safe. We're together again." She willed calmness, and brought heat to her hands. The baby pushed up against both of them, but still moved back and forth, as if rocking inside her.
"There you are! What happened? What's that?" Huomeng knelt at her side, pointing to the sky.
"I don't know," she said, her voice quavering.
"It looks like an explosion on the peaks! I thought we were under attack again! Are you all right?" He put an arm around her, placed a hand on her stomach, his eyes widening. "It frightened the baby, whatever it was. Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes, it does, but it's my fault. Something happened— when we came back—I don't know."
"What?"
Kati looked at him solemnly. "I took Yesui to the gong-shi-jie. I wanted to see—I wanted her to see Tengri-Khan. I wanted—"
"She was there with you?"
"I—I think so."
Huomeng rubbed her stomach, and leaned his head against her arm. "I think she's calming down, now."
Kati reached over, and ruffled his hair. "She feels her father's hand," she said, "and her father needs to put some clothes on. Aren't you cold?"
"Not while I'm by you," he said, caressing her.
They watched the roiling cloud, Kati breathing deeply until the baby was calm again, but she could not hide her thoughts from the man she loved.
"What kind of child have we made?" he finally asked.
"We'll know soon," said Kati.
The experience had not been terrifying, but exciting to her, and now the comforting touches and sounds that made her sleepy. Yesui opened her eyes again, and saw her hands, legs and feet bathed in green light within her tiny place. She pressed against the softness around her, and felt the warmth coming, the feelings from two beings, not one, but it was one of them she'd seen in that beautiful place with all the colors. At first, there had been the pretty lights, connected by thin strands that she had to stretch aside to follow the being who'd led her so quickly to where the colors were, and then again to where she touched something that followed her on her return. That something had lost its color for awhile, then suddenly reappeared, close behind her with heat she found threatening, and so she told it to go away to a place she'd seen only moments before, and it went there.
The sound had been terrible, and her place seemed suddenly smaller, pressing in on her. She'd pushed back on it in surprise, and held it there, but now she didn't have to press so hard. The feelings were calmer, more normal, and the deep red glows of the touches had returned. She pressed her feet against them, and tickled them with her hands, feeling wonderful again.
Yesui yawned mightily in her warm, liquid place, and closed her eyes. And suddenly there were two great eyes there, glowing emerald green, and new sounds, not heard, but felt in her mind, words she didn't understand now, but would hear again later.
Yesui. Yesui—my child. I am Mandughai. I was with your mother, and your grandmother, and now I will be with you. Sleep, now, and build your strength. You have much to learn from your mother and I, and there is something I would have you do for me when you're a woman.