They make mistakes.' ''Yes,' said the stranger with a smile. 'Her hands do not protect her like yours do you. That's because they're empty. What she touches, she feels. Directly.' » 'My hands feel!' protested the Jinnjirri boy. » 'Ah,' said the stranger, 'but does your heart?' « Doogat ended the story here, taking a moment to relight his Trickster pipe. When he had drawn on it several times, he added, «You see, Jan, like this boy, Yonneth—Cobeth of Shift Shallows didn't come to you with empty hands. He came to you holding tightly to his pride and arrogance. How could you hope to fill what was already filled?» Janusin took a deep breath. «But that part about cutting off the boy's hands—how barbaric.» «The stranger was a Mayanabi Master. His suggestion was radical because one cannot travel the Way of the Mayanabi without experiencing severence from the familiar. What could be more familiar than one's own hands? The stranger's suggestion was really an invitation—he was inviting the boy to become his student. So an opportunity was missed.» Janusin gave a despondent sigh. «Cobeth probably would've missed the opportunity, too.» «That's why I tell you the story,» replied Doogat softly. Janusin rubbed his eyes. «You know, for all my 'appreciation' of Cobeth, I have to say, he could be uncommonly cold sometimes. And secretive. Maybe that's the price for his kind of genius.» Doogat nodded. «Genius uninformed by the heart is brilliant. But it is also insensitive. It lacks empathy. Cobeth, you see, is completely incapable of putting himself in another's situation.» Doogat gave Janusin a sad look. «That's why I tell you not to waste your time grieving; Cobeth has no idea what pain he has caused you. How can he? His hands are so full of himself, he has no room for another. And that is his tragedy, Jan. Don't make it yours.» Janusin bit his lower lip. «Pretty strange story, Doogat.» The Mayanabi Master smiled. «Strange to the strange.» Janusin scowled. He was just about to retort when Barlimo came bustling through the studio door, her shawl of many colors slung unused over her back. «It's so damned warm out!» she muttered. Then, seeing the Mayanabi and the sculptor, she put her hands on her hips and said, «What in Neath are you two doing out here? I send him out here to fetch you, Jan, and nobody comes back? Come on, fellows. You're holding up the house meeting.» «Who says we haven't been having it?» asked Doogat chuckling. Barlimo wagged a finger in his wrinkled face. «I have other things to do tonight, Master Doogat. Sleep, for one!» Doogat nudged Janusin. «I think she's cross with us.» The sculptor smiled conspiratorially. «We probably deserve it.» «Probably,» agreed Doogat, getting slowly to his feet. As he walked past the glaring Barlimo, he whispered, «Zendrak asked me to tell you that he has a plan for Po; he wants Po to stay at my house for a while.» Barlimo grunted. «Does Po know this?» «He will.» «Wonderful,» replied the architect without enthusiasm. Po had a vocabulary of four-letter words so rich in imagination that only Greatkin Jinndaven could top him. «Wonderful,» Barlimo repeated. Chapter Eleven As Barlimo, Janusin, and Doogat walked back from the artist's studio to the Kaleidicopia, the rest of the house members waited impatiently for their arrival. Particularly Podiddley of Brindlsi. Feeling furious with Tree for accusing him of stealing Janusin's rent money, the little Asilliwir paced back and forth in front of the hearth. He wanted to walk out on all of them, but he couldn't. Doogat prevented him. As long as he was Doogat's student, any situation that involved the Mayanabi Master was a potential learning experience for Po. «Even this frigging house meeting,» muttered the little thief under his breath. Rowenaster came into the room from the kitchen. He had apparently decided against seconds of curry stew. Glancing at Podiddley, the professor pulled on his bifocals and returned to correcting mid-terms. Mab asked for hers. Rowenaster picked her exam off the top of the pile and handed it to the nineteen-year-old with a smile. Mab looked at the grade. Her expression turned into astonishment. «This isn't a hundred percent. You said I aced it,» she added accusingly. The professor slipped his glasses lower on the bridge of his large nose. «Child, you did ace it. You only missed one question.» «Which?» she said angrily, skimming the six pages. «Number forty-four.» «Hey,» said Po interrupting with a get-even snigger, «that's my question.» Mab gave him a dubious look. «Your question?» Rowenaster cleared his throat, hoping to avert the brewing argument between them. The professor was certain Po knew Mab had called the secret meeting to evict him. And Po, when angry, was not opposed to throwing a punch or two. Mab hadn't lived with Po long enough to be aware of this. Rowen decided to draw her fire. Smiling diplomatically, he said, «Uh—yes, Mab. I took one of Po's ideas and put it on the exam.» Mab's brown eyes blazed. «The only question I missed!» Po grinned from ear to ear. Rowenaster bit his lower lip. «Most everyone so far has missed it, Mab. It was a trick question. Really, quite unfair.» Mab stared at the Saambolin professor. «Your landrace doesn't do things like that,» she protested hotly. «You're predictable. That's why I study with you and the other Saambolin.» Rowenaster pursed his lips, unsure if he'd just been complimented or insulted. He cleared his throat. «Well, Mab—the exam was on Greatkin Rimble. Perhaps you should've expected the unexpected.» Mab's reaction to Rowenaster's statement was peculiar. The young girl turned away from the professor, dropping the exam on the commons room rug and walked jerkily to the far side of the couch in front of the hearth. Without a further word, she picked up the comforter that rested there and pulled it over her shoulders. Timmer, who had been working on a musical score by candlelight, watched this with amazement. «Somebody mind telling me what question forty-four was?» Po answered her. «What is the landdraw of the Mayanabi Nomads.» «And?» continued Timmer, still looking at Mab. «And,» replied the professor, «most students write 'All.' That's because traditionally the Mayanabi are said to hail from all the landraces of Mnemlith. However, the correct answer is 'Unknown.' « «Unknown?» asked Timmer skeptically. «How can their landdraw be unknown? That's like saying they don't have one. Or that they aren't born of Mnemlith or something.» «Nevertheless,» said the professor. «According to Doogat, the correct answer is 'Unknown.' He says the Mayanabi were a Greatkin improvement.» Timmer regarded him with dismay. «Oh, no. Doogat's got you believing in the Greatkin, too? I'm disappointed in you, old man. What happened to good old academic skepticism? And tidy Saambolin logic? No wonder Mab's upset. Better stop hanging around with Doogat, Professor. He's having a bad effect on you.» «Thanks for giving me your opinion,» said Rowenaster drily. «You're welcome,» she replied, meaning it. Then feeling uncharacteristically generous toward Mab, Timmer asked, «Want some tea, love? It'll only take a second to boil some water.» Mab nodded dumbly, her eyes staring at the dancing flames in the hearth. Timmer left the room for the kitchen. As she did so, Doogat, Barlimo, and Janusin arrived. Doogat broke off in mid- sentence, his attention immediately directed toward Mab. Frowning, he said nothing, taking a seat beside Podiddley who was now kneeling before the hearth turning logs. «Been behaving yourself?» Doogat asked the thief. «Some.» Doogat grunted, leaned against the couch, and closed his eyes. Laughter exploded in the kitchen, followed by shrieks and giggles. Janusin chuckled. «Tree's here. Timmer, too, by the sound of it.» The Jinnjirri sculptor sat down in an overstuffed armchair, his dress draping beautifully in a soft puddle of magenta. «Timmer's making tea for Baby Mab,» Po said meanly. «Why not for all of us?» asked Barlimo, hanging her many-colored shawl on a wooden peg in the front hall. «I could use some coddling, too.»
«Good idea,» replied Janusin, getting to his feet again. «Think I'll suggest it. Might relieve the bad mood in this room,» he added, glancing at the huddled Piedmerri and the disgusted Asilliwir. The swinging door swung shut after him. Moments later, more peals of hysteria issued from the Kaleidicopia's kitchen. Doogat opened his eyes, his expression puzzled. Simultaneously, Barlimo got to her feet, instantly alert for impending Jinnjirri mischief. Doogat read the alarm in her face and said, «Perhaps you should go and see what— Too late. The swinging door opened amidst giggles, and out pranced Tree with a small orange pumpkin displayed on a tray like a kingly dessert. Surrounded by greens and gourds, everyone noticed that the top of the pumpkin had been cut like a jack o' lantern, the stem still on the lid. Doogat's dark eyes narrowed. Something was inside the pumpkin. Something decidedly Jinnjirri— Grinning like Trickster himself, Tree brought his gift straight to Mab. She looked up, her expression bewildered. Tree knelt down on one knee and motioned for the young girl to open the pumpkin. Mab did so hesitantly. She lifted the lid and froze. Her jaw dropped. Inside was an upright cucumber crowned by a dollop of yogurt. At its base sat two tomatoes. Mab took one look at this obvious invitation and yelped. She attempted to throw the pumpkin away, but Tree and his lewd cohorts weren't through with the Piedmerri virgin. Tree grabbed the pumpkin out of Mab's scandalized hands and held it aloft like a prize. Announcing to the room, he said, «Okay everyone—pretend it's a proper autumn out.» Then, winking at Janusin and Timmer, the three of them broke into song, Timmer's splendid soprano blending sweetly with Janusin's bass and Tree's tenor. Mab's face grew paler and paler with each word of the naughty ditty: When the weather's hot and sticky, That's no time to dip your dicky. Aye, but when the frost is on the pumpkin, There's a time for dicky dunkin'. Chaos erupted in the room. Po and Rowenaster joined the «Invitational Trio» with helpless giggles. Barlimo, who was alternately horrified and utterly undone, hid her smile behind her hands. Her hair, of course, told the tale; it streaked with good-humored yellow and erotic lavender. Doogat jumped out of the way in time to miss being hit by the tray on Mab's lap as she threw it off. Mab ran out of the room. They heard Mab scramble upstairs. Presumably, she was fleeing to her second floor bedroom. Doogat got to his feet hastily. Turning to Tree, he snapped, «You incomparable asshole!» Before Tree could reply, Doogat took off after Mab. He ran the flight of stairs with a nimbleness unusual in a man of sixty-two. Tree shrugged. «Well, I needed a good giggle, even if Mab didn't.» Then, catching sight of Janusin and Barlimo's brilliant yellow hair, he started laughing all over again, his own hair following the lead of the other Jinnjirri in the
