Contrarywise

was Cobeth. Dressed in an overtunic of geometric black and yellow, Cobeth swept into the house, his trailing scarf looped artistically around his neck, his makeup perfect. Cobeth accepted a round of spontaneous applause with modesty and returned the hugs and congratulations of his well-wishers with impish smiles. The charisma of the man was so strong, it was like an independent presence. Mab reconsidered her decision to leave. «I can at least tell him I think he did a good job,» Mab muttered to herself. «It's more than anyone else from the 'K' will do.» She nodded. «And after that, I'll go home.» Mab approached Cobeth shyly. The Jinnjirri actor saw her almost immediately. His expression at first startled, then thoughtful, Cobeth gently disengaged himself from his crowd of admirers. He walked toward Mab, Jinnjirri whispering to each other as he did so. Mab twisted a strand of her hair nervously. She felt as if she were suddenly on stage now. It was as if Cobeth's magnetism extended beyond him to include her, too. Mab flushed with the attention. «You're the last person I expected to see here, Mab,» said the actor amiably as he joined her at the feasting table. «Did you come alone?» Mab shook her head. «Timmer's in the back somewhere.» Cobeth nodded, helping himself to some food. He picked out four kinds of vegetables, some mild cheese, and a generous helping of roasted potatoes. «I've stopped eating meat,» he explained. «Came out of a meditation I was doing. Makes me a better channel.» «Channel?» This was a Tammirring term. She wondered how Cobeth meant it. The actor took a bite of potato, chewing with vigor. «Yeah. A channel for Trickster. I get stuff from him all the time now. Even see him on occasion,» he added matter-of-factly. «But you're a Jinnjirri. I thought only Tammirring—» Cobeth made a rude gesture of dismissal with his hand. «We've got to break out of this single draw crap. We've got to start thinking in terms of multiple identity.» Stuffing another potato in his mouth, he added, «Rimble—I'm starved. I haven't eaten since lunch. You?» «I had dinner at the house.» «Of course. Well, Mab—you must have dessert then.» He pointed at a coconut-custard confection on top of the groaning board. «That's fresh Saambolin Silk Pie. Rhu baked it this morning. Tops even Barlimo's good cooking.» He smiled. «I'm very partial to sweets.» Then he added coyly, «Of all kinds.» Mab blushed, catching the obvious sexual reference in Cobeth's last statement. She helped herself to a piece of Saambolin Silk and changed the subject, saying, «Your play—it was very good.» «You liked it?» asked Cobeth, appearing both surprised and genuinely delighted by Mab's compliment. Mab struggled to speak, her mouth full of the sweet, rich pie. «Oh, yes. It was wonderful. I'd like to see it again,» she gushed. «You can really act, Cobeth. I think you made the right decision—getting out of sculpting, I mean. You've really found yourself.» Cobeth smiled broadly. «I'm amazed you think so. I figured you hated my guts as much as everyone else back at the 'K.' Well,» he said touching her cheek, «you've suddenly become quite interesting, Mab.» «I have?» Cobeth nodded. «I would've paired you with Greatkin Phebene—you know, light, love, and syrup. But here you are. At this party.» Cobeth cast his eyes around the room. «A very debauched, very depraved crew. But ever so loyal to Trickster—and to me. Rimble-Rimble,» added Cobeth, turning his attention back to Mab. His eyes danced with a strange wildness. «Deviance can be fun—oh, yes indeed.» Mab said nothing. Cobeth peered at the little Piedmerri. «Did I say something wrong?» Mab shook her head. «Yes, I did—I can feel your discomfort. What's wrong, Mab?» Mab glared at the actor. Talking to Cobeth was like talking to a blasted Tammirring. What was he—a mind reader? A sensitive? Mab sighed. «I—uh—it's just where I grew up, that's all. I'm just not very fond of deviance. And I don't think it's always fun.» «Sure it is,» said Cobeth. «No—uh—no, it's not.» Mab set her pie hastily on the table. She had already been through one discussion like this with Timmer, and she didn't want a repeat performance with Cobeth. Mab backed away from the actor. «Where you going?» asked Cobeth, his expression puzzled. «Uh—home.» She headed toward the front door. Cobeth put down his plate of food. He caught up with Mab, his boyish face apologetic. «Mab—I didn't mean to offend you. Please. Stay.» Mab shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. «You—you don't really mean that.» «Sure I do,» replied Cobeth warmly. He slid his arm around Mab's waist, propelling her firmly toward the stairs leading to the closed off bedrooms on the next floor of the house. Mab was so much in need of even a scrap of reassurance from someone that she allowed Cobeth to guide her up the stairs. She was tired of being friendless and alone. Cobeth was a familiar face—they had lived together at the Kaleidicopia. That made him more than an aquaintance, she thought. Or a stranger. When they reached the top of the stairs, Cobeth said, «Come on.» «Where?» «To my room.» «You're living here?» she asked in surprise. He nodded. «There's a whole bunch of us. Rhu and me share a bed.» He paused, seeing the confused disappointment on the little Piedmerri's face. «What's this?» he asked, brushing a strand of hair out of her tearful eyes. «Why, Mab—how dear. I had no idea you felt that way about me.» He kissed her forehead jauntily. «Well, you're in luck, my love. Rhu and I have a very loose arrangement—true Jinnjirri style.» «What do you mean?» asked Mab cautiously. «I mean, child—I'm available.» Then, without permitting Mab to question him further, Cobeth herded her into his bedroom. Seeing the double bed, silk sheets, and tastefully placed mirrors on the ceiling, Mab panicked. Cobeth closed the door behind her before she could flee. He gave her a teasing smile, his waifish charm irresistible. «Mab, Mab—you've got to take chances. Trickster is the Patron of All Exceptions. And sometimes you have to make an exception to your own rule. That is, if you want to grow.» He lifted Mab's chin with his hand. His face was inches from her own. Mab breathed shallowly, her lips parting. Cobeth's Jinnjirri sexuality was so powerful now that Mab felt her body respond to the seduction despite the warnings of her heart and mind. Cobeth kissed her neck, sending shivers down her back. Frightened by the intensity of her feelings for Cobeth—emotional and physical—Mab started to pull out of his arms. «Mab, it's all right.» She hesitated, her eyes searching the utter innocence of his gaze. Cobeth stroked her lips with his finger. «You've been touched by deviance before—haven't you, Mab? Touched deeply by Trickster. Introduced to the Fertile Dark before you were ready.» He kissed her mouth. «But now you're ready, Mab.» Mab caught her breath, her eyes bright and yielding. Cobeth pulled her gently toward the bed. «You're one of the special ones, Mab. I know.» He smiled. «Trickster tells me so. He tells me you're one of his Contrarywise. But you're uninitiated, Mab. And that must be remedied. So come to me, my darling—in his name. Let me bring you home.» As Mab sank into the pillows on the large double bed, Cobeth buried his handsome face in her full breasts. Raising his head and smiling at her, he began untying her blouse. Mab shut her eyes, her face flushed. «Is this really happening?» she whispered. Cobeth breathed the good scent of her skin and sweaty arousal deep into his lungs. He seemed to be revivified by it. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, «Welcome, Mab. Welcome to Greatkin Rimble's ecstasy.» Then Cobeth reached under the pillow to his left. Mab felt the movement and opened her eyes. She stared. Cobeth was holding the wineskin dildo from Rimble's Remedy. Laughing oddly, he squirted some of its contents into his mouth. Before Mab could ask him what he was doing, the Jinnjirri actor kissed her with his tongue. Mab groaned, her entire body responding to the overwhelming push of Cobeth's potent, Jinnjirri pheromones. Her mouth opened. Cobeth never hesitated. Lifting the leather stinger of «the whole wasp,» he shot an ample dose of holovespa into the back of Mab's throat. The little Piedmerri swallowed before she could stop herself. Chapter Twenty-Five Rimble finally found Zendrak—drunk out of his mind—under a spreading oak tree at the foot of the Bago-Bago Mountains in southeastern Saambolin. When Trickster tried to rouse his Emissary, Zendrak muttered sweet nothings and pulled Phebene's rainbow comforter over his head. This was not what Rimble expected. The little Greatkin fingered the comforter thoughtfully. Then, smelling the scent of black currant wine and Utter Chocolate Decadence on Zendrak's breath, Rimble started swearing at the Patron of Great Loves and Tender Trysts. «You can't feed mortals from our table, Phebes!» he cried at the sky and earth. «It's too rich for the poor sods!» Then, spitting into his hands, Rimble grabbed Zendrak by the tunic collar and threw him roughly to a sitting position against the oak tree. Zendrak shook his head groggily. Before he could even open his eyes, Rimble punched him soundly in the stomach. Zendrak promptly lost the remains of his picnic with Love. Unfortunately, he managed to keep his colossal hangover. Zendrak leaned backward against the tree, wiping the vomit off his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes rolled upward in his head, his expression pained. «Don't talk to me, Rimble,» he whispered. «Just don't talk—» «I most certainly will!» yelled the annoyed little Greatkin. Zendrak tried to bury his ears in Phebene's comforter. Rimble ripped it out of his hands and tossed it behind him into a thicket of bushes. «Rimble—» groaned Zendrak, «—have a heart.» Trickster snorted. «Look at you, Zen-boy. You sound like a whining school kid. 'Have a heart,'» he added in derisive mimicry of Zendrak's earlier plea. «You're pathetic.» Trickster crossed his arms over his chest. «I think I should disown you.» «Disown me?» asked Zendrak wincing from the sound of his own voice. «You're a disgrace to the family. Kelandris would never succumb to the wine and food of Love. Never.» Trickster wagged a finger in Zendrak's bleary eyes. «And don't pretend Phebes didn't tell you who Kel was, either. It would be just like her to spoil my surprise—in the name of Truth, you know. Truth is terribly 'in' with the group at Eranossa this year.» Trickster paced back and forth, grumping as he walked. «See—that's the thing about Eranossa. It's the home of the Bright Ones—we're talking light not brains, mind you— and Neath's the home of the Dark Ones. They're obvious, we're subtle. And like I keep trying to tell those Eranossa dimwits, you can't go around exposing everything to the full blast of the noonday sun. Some things have to incubate a while. Not that I have anything against Truth—» Zendrak belched rudely. Rimble ignored the editorial comment and continued his monologue. «—not that I have anything against Truth. It's just that some truths have to become