Threshold by Sara Douglass

balcony, and I could see a great shadow spreading over Gesholme.
    I had not taken more than a glimpse at Threshold, but it dominated my dreams every night.
    “Soon, Tirzah.” Yaqob’s voice had darkened with my mood. “But first, come see what Orteas and Zeldon work at.”
    Neither man seemed discomforted that he would be joined by such a young woman – perhaps the story of the cage work I had done for Gayomar and Boaz had spread. We chatted politely for some minutes as I ran curious eyes over their work.
    The men were working on flat sections that were designed to fit into a large panel. The glass shone gold – it had been beautifully mixed and fired.
    “Isphet’s work,” Yaqob murmured, running his fingers over Zeldon’s glass. “No-one can match her skill at mixingthe molten glass. She has a sweetness that can cajole the most stubborn mixing.”
    There was silence as Orteas and Zeldon stared at Yaqob, then dropped their eyes hastily back to their work.
    Although I noted their reaction, for the moment I preferred to ignore it, more fascinated by the design itself. I moved closer to Zeldon and pointed at his work. “Yaqob, what is this?”
    His face hardened. “This is part of Threshold’s wrongness, Tirzah. See? These curves form pieces of numbers, and this section here, is the lower segment of a portion of writing.”
    “Why wrongness?”
    Yaqob took a deep, uneasy breath. “You know of the Magi and their fascination with mathematics?’
    “Yes, Isphet has explained some of it.”
    “Some of it is too much of it, but you need to know. Tirzah, can you read or write?”
    “I can figure a little, and write numbers. All glassworkers need to be able to do that, especially for measuring powders and metals. But alphabets and words are beyond me.”
    “Then be grateful. The Magi control the power of numbers and form, but in doing so they have subverted the alphabet. For them, each letter of the alphabet is mated with a number, so that when they write, when they form words and then sentences, the writing has a double and darker significance. Do you see my meaning?”
    I noticed how he had avoided the phrase, “Do you understand?”
    “Yes, I think so. Each time a Magus writes words, he also writes calculations and formulae. Sorceries.”
    “ Everything about them is dangerous, Tirzah, and evil. Beware of them, and especially beware of their writing.”
    He was angry now, and I nodded quickly.
    “Never let one try to teach you letters, girl, for he will seek to ensorcel your soul with each word you write. Run screaming, for if you don’t run, then you will succumb to their sorceries.” He managed a small smile, although it did not quite reach his eyes. “And then you will not be the same sweet girl who stands before me now.”
    “Yaqob, I swear that I have no intention of ever learning to write. I won’t be entrapped, nor entrap you.”
    “Good.”
    The promise finally satisfied him, and Yaqob continued to explain the caging. “The Magi need workers skilled in caging for two areas of Threshold. The first is the central chamber, called the Infinity Chamber, where these pieces will eventually fit. All wall and floor spaces of this chamber are to be covered in caged glass work depicting the words and incantations that the Magi require for their formula.”
    “And the ceiling?”
    “There is no ceiling, Tirzah. No, wait, you will see eventually. You will have to take your work in there to be fitted.”
    “And the second area that needs caged work?”
    He paused, and looked outside. “The capstone.”
    “Capstone?”
    Yaqob smiled, but it was sad, and he took my hand and pulled gently. “It is time to let Threshold see you, Tirzah. Then I can explain.”
    As I was to find out, the glassworkers held high positions within the slave encampment of Gesholme, and perhaps that is why Isphet’s workshop was allowed such a roomy balcony.
    Or perhaps it was so Threshold’s presence could the more easily