«Gadorian's Revenge» was barbaric and ought to be outlawed. Especially since the system of punishments had been the fantasy of an angry youth and not of a wise man. Barlimo nudged the professor. «Think Noolie's napping back there? He's been gone an awfully long time.» Rowenaster was just about to ask one of the other Saambolin Guildguards to go fetch Noolie when the old man reappeared, his expression annoyed. Rowenaster frowned. «Where are the texts?» «Suppose you tell me!» retorted Noolie. «I ain't got time for Trickster silliness, professor. I take my job very seriously. And if you've got any other fool errands you're thinking about—save them.» «What are you talking about?» asked Rowenaster indignantly. «I'm talking about there not being no section with these numbers!» Rowenaster stared at Noolie. «No section? Of course, there's a section. It's all my personal research on Greatkin Rimble.» «Ain't there,» repeated Noolie stubbornly. «And don't think you're going back there to check, neither. You need a card, professor, and that's my final word on the matter.» Noolie glared at Rowen, his hand reaching for the short sword at his side. Rowenaster rolled his eyes and swore, «All right, Noolie. But I'll be back here first thing tomorrow morning, and if I find that there is a section on Greatkin Rimble in there—I'll have your mouth washed out with soap for your insolence to me today. I'll also see that you're suspended for the next week.» Noolie crossed his arms over his chest. «There ain't no section.» «Oh, yes there is!» snapped Rowenaster. Picking up his candles and flax oil, he strode angrily out of the basement of the Great Library. Barlimo followed the professor in silence, her hair turning thoughtful indigo under her scarf. Why was it that things like this always happened when Greatkin Rimble's name got mentioned? The Guardsman Noolie was probably a very nice person, underneath all his prejudice, she thought. But put Trickster in the middle of it, and Noolie doesn't even give Rowenaster the time of day—much less the respect he so obviously deserves as Archive Curator alone. She mentioned her thoughts to the professor as he hailed a happincabby to take them back to the Kaleidicopia. Rowenaster took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. «If Rimble's the reason for this mess, then just think what we've got to look forward to tonight. The Prickster play—my, that name sounds ominous suddenly—is all about Rimble. At this rate, Barl, I wonder if I shall survive Rimble's Remedy?» Barlimo sighed, thinking about the true purpose of the Kaleidicopia and said, «I wonder if any of us shall.» By the evening's end, Mabinhil Of Matterwise would be asking the very same question… Chapter Twenty The Speakinghast play-going crowd poured into the Jinnjirri playhouse slowly. With the exception of a small group of Saambolin university students (all of whom were seeking extra credit in Rowenaster's Greatkin Survey course), the professor himself, Guildmaster Gadorian, Master Curator Sirrefene, and the three residents of the Kaleidicopia entering now, the audience was comprised of an unhatted, neighborhood Jinnjirri membership. Mab's eyes remained wary as she followed Barlimo and Timmer to their seats in the third row. Mab hadn't mingled in the company of this many
Jinnjirri since living in the northwest border of Jinnjirri itself. And had it not been for her interest in Cobeth, Mab doubted that she would have come at all. With her nearly one hundred percent grade average in Rowen's class, she was hardly in need of any extra credit. Mab watched the Jinnjirri parade past her in a festival of shimmering color, costume, and gently shifting gender. Timmer sighed happily. «Gorgeous, aren't they?» she said to Mab. «Finding myself in bed with a Jinnjirri is my all-time favorite fantasy.» Suddenly realizing whom she was speaking to—'the Piedmerri Virgin'—Timmer put her hand to her mouth and mumbled an apology. «I forget you don't think about such things. Much less with a Jinnjirri,» she added. «Must've been so weird growing up where you did.» Mab shrugged and said nothing. She preferred to forget the northwest border of Jinnjirri. To pretend it didn't exist. Cobeth, on the other hand… Mab felt strangely drawn to the man. Mab had arrived at the «K» during Cobeth's final month at the house. Since Mab was new and unprejudiced toward him, Cobeth had treated her with an indifference bordering on kindness. Janusin's anger toward Cobeth had made her feel pity for Cobeth. In short, Mab was Cobeth's secret champion. Mab fingered the playbill in her hands, her eyes sad. She knew it was stupid to feel something for the Jinnjirri sculptor-turned-actor. To begin with, Cobeth was indeed Jinnjirri, and Mab had promised herself firmly after leaving the Jinn borderlands that she'd never ever have anything to do with a Jinnjirri on an intimate basis. Living with the Jinn was one thing, bedding them was quite another. And secondly, Cobeth was such as attractive sort of fellow that Mab was sure he could pick and choose his girlfriends from the best Speakinghast had to offer. She was quite sure a man of Cobeth's genius would never see anything of value in a dumpy, nineteen- year-old Piedmerri virgin. Mab sighed. Still, Tree liked her. And the artists in her mother's entourage had shown their sexual interest in Mab on more than one occasion. Mab winced at the memory and crossed her legs under her forest green tunic. Timmer reached in front of Mab and tugged Barlimo on the sleeve. «Where's Rowen?» she whispered to the Jinnjirri architect. Barlimo, who was dressed in a fabulous cobalt blue and magenta robe covered in rhinestones and feathers, removed her plumed hat and said, «Sitting with Gadorian and Sirrefene.» «They're coming to this?» asked Timmer in an impressed voice. «That's quite a debut for old Cobeth. Quite a debut.» She sank back in her chair. «I should be so honored,» she added wistfully. Barlimo grunted. «Gadorian and Sirrefene aren't here for Cobeth. They're here for political reasons. Election time,» she added nodding at the well-to-do Jinnjirri sitting up in the box seats of the theater. Timmer nodded. «Well—whatever the reason—I think it's a good thing the Guildmaster and Curator are here. For Rowen's moral support. When Tree and I were doing the dinner dishes tonight, Tree said Cobeth's really gone around the bend with his interpretation of Greatkin Rimble's carnival in Suxonli. Says Rowen's going to hit the rafters.» «Why?» asked Barlimo with interest. Timmer shrugged. «Tree says Cobeth didn't do his homework. Says the play is actually just a soapbox for Cobeth's latest personal quest.» «Quest or conquest?» said Barlimo rudely. The musician and the architect burst into laughter. Mab, who had been listening to this conversation with growing annoyance, interrupted them angrily. «Why is everyone at the 'K' so hard on poor Cobeth? Janusin does nothing but put him down for being a lousy student; Tree swears Cobeth can't act; and both of you sit here judging the play and the performance before ever having seen it!» Timmer raised an eyebrow. «Hmm. Me thinks I detect a little interest in Cobeth here.» Mab glanced at the Dunnsung, her face turning scarlet. «I hope not,» muttered Barlimo. Timmer tapped her chin thoughtfully. «Well, well. And I thought I was going to have to go to the opening night cast party all by my lonesome. You will join me, won't you?» «Timmer—» began Barlimo in alarm But Timmer was feeling angry with Mab for defending Cobeth, so she would not stop. Furthermore, she was weary of Mab's push-and-pull attitude about the Jinnjirri in general. One sure way to cure it, she thought, was to take this fool girl to an all-out Jinnjirri party. Sex and drugs and anything else you could imagine. Timmer patted Mab on the arm, saying, «Loosen up. Life's too short to spend it cowering in a corner. Besides, Cobeth will be there. In all his glory,» she added drily. «I don't know, Timmer,» said Mab cautiously. «I grew up in the middle of that kind of party.» Timmer rolled her eyes. «Do you honestly think you're the only one who's ever had trouble in their lives? Shake it off, Mab.» The little Piedmerri shook her head. «No—I—I don't think this is what I want to do, Timmer.» Timmer grunted with disgust, then seeing a couple of Jinnjirri friends, she waved wildly and got up to talk to them. Relieved that Timmer was no longer badgering Mab into going to the cast party, Barlimo smiled at the Piedmerri and said, «So how do you like living at the 'K'?»
«Oh, it's all right. I kind of wish it were a little more private.» She shrugged. «But I've only been at the House three months. Maybe I'll get used to it. Having my personal life be of interest to all of you, I mean.» Mab smiled as diplomatically as she could. Barlimo chuckled. «What a nice way of putting it, Mab. Listen, girl, you have the right to tell anyone at anytime in that house to butt out. And in no uncertain terms, either. That's why all the bedrooms have locks on them—to insure that you can and will be left alone.» «Does it work?» asked Mab dubiously. «Telling people to butt out?» Barlimo said nothing for a few moments. «Well, okay—let's be honest. Locks on doors—or on hearts—only work minimally at a place like the Kaleidicopia. Don't get me wrong. No one will come bursting into your room without your permission. Despite outward appearances, we're a pretty civilized lot. However,» she continued, «in the long run, it's impossible to keep secrets when you're rubbing elbows with six to eight people on a daily basis. The Kaleidicopia is a kind of two-legged hothouse. Spend some time in the domed gardens on the third floor and you'll see what I mean. They're even warm in winter. Which is what we should be.» «Our tempers or our skins?» asked Mab wryly, recalling the argument Tree and Timmer had about Po's dishes this morning. Barlimo nodded. «Tempers will do for starters. Passionate feelings let us know we're alive,» said Barlimo. «Especially we Jinnjirri. And sometimes, Mab, the people who come to the 'K' can't feel anymore. Life's knocked them down too many times, or they got badly scarred once and they couldn't find the courage to try again.» Doogat's words at the previous night's house meeting echoed unexpectedly in Mab's mind. What had the Mayanabi said? Something like, «All that Trickster wants from you right now is that you try again.» Mab touched the strand of hair that Doogat had pulled out of her face. She stared at the playbill in her lap, thinking about what Barlimo had said about passion— that it was a good thing. A kind of thaw maybe. Mab pressed her lips together, wanting to go to the Jinnjirri cast party after all. She wanted to feel what she felt toward Cobeth—she wanted to feel it with all her heart and soul. Mab took a deep breath. What if her «passion» landed her in bed with him? She let the breath out slowly. «Then, so be it,» she whispered. Timmer returned to her seat at this point. The undaunted Dunnsung nudged Mab's arm. «So
