known gradual-like. And you finding out that Kel's your twin is one of them. I don't want the two of you joining forces too soon, see. If you weren't so obssessed with this soulmate thing— Zendrak forced his eyes open all the way. «I am not obsessed—» «You certainly are!» snapped Trickster. «It's all you ever think about.» He made a frame with his hands in the air, «Kel and the Lost Chance.» He rolled his eyes. «Idiot.» The light of the rising moon made Zendrak's eyes glitter coldly. «Phebene was quite sympathetic, Rimble. She understood what it's like to be part Mythrrim—and alone.» «You don't need Phebene!» yelled the little Greatkin, losing his temper with Zendrak entirely. «I'm the Greatkin of Coincidence and the Impossible! I'm hope when there's none to be had! Do you think I'll give you only one opportunity with Kelandris of Suxonli? Do you?» Zendrak shrugged, his expression skeptical. Rimble pulled at his black goatee. «Even now, Kel makes her way to you, Zendrak. She is on your trail—hunting you with a vengeance.» «So Phebene tells me,» muttered Zendrak, crossing his arms over his chest. «Nice of you to make Kelandris think I was the reason everything went sour in Suxonli. Nice of you to confuse me in her mind with that soul-sucker Yonneth.» Zendrak spat on the ground in front of Trickster. «I've got a good mind to quit being your Emissary.» Trickster raised one of his black eyebrows. «I see. Well, whatever you want.» He shrugged. «You're easily replaced.» «By whom?» asked Zendrak indignantly. «Yonneth. Cobeth. The name doesn't matter.» Seeing Zendrak's consternation and disbelief, Rimble smiled. «He's just begging to work for me, you know. In fact, he's quite convinced he already is.» Zendrak's eyes narrowed. «And is he?» Trickster refused to answer, his pied eyes cool. Chapter Twenty-Six When Rowenaster arrived back at the Kaleidicopia after speaking with Cobeth, he found Barlimo and Tree cleaning up the filth that was in Po's room. Barlimo had removed her play-going clothes and now wore an old smock and apron. Likewise, Tree had abandoned his «autumn regalia.» The green-haired Jinnjirri stood naked from the chest up, his lower half covered by a pair of patched trousers. Po's room was on the first floor of the House. So when the professor opened the front door of the 'K,' he heard the following: «I've found another one. That makes seventeen total, Barl.» «Seventeen what?» yelled Rowenaster as he removed his maroon
travelling cloak in the front hall. Hanging it on a peg, he joined the Jinnjirri. «Spoons,» replied Barlimo, lugging an enormous bag of garbage out of Podiddley's room. Pausing to smile at the professor, she added, «Those Asilliwir and their damned tea. When Po comes back, I'm going to make him buy his own tea ice.» «If he comes back.» corrected Tree. Rowenaster chuckled. «Wishful thinking, wouldn't you say?» Barlimo scowled at the Jinnjirri and the Saambolin. «Po will be back, fellows. You can count on it.» «Why?» asked Tree, making a mournful gesture that included the entirety of Podiddley's pig pen—better known in the house as «Room O.» Rowenaster walked closer, trying not to breathe. Like Tree, he had never seen the inside of Podiddley's lodgings. The professor's eyes widened. Po's room was littered with dirty clothes, the mass of them literally reaching a height of calf deep. Mugs with souring milk added a unique, foul, pungence to the existent mustiness of month-old unwashed underwear. The window was open, but even that did little to alleviate the odors here. «Incense,» said the professor. «Does anyone have any?» «Janusin probably does. But he's out at some pub drowning his sorrows,» said Tree. «His hair was so blue, it frosted.» Barlimo met Rowen's inquiring glance. «I told Jan about Cobeth stealing the 'Panthe'kinarok Series' title. He was none too happy about it.» «I can imagine,» muttered Rowenaster. Picking up a couple of books with broken spines, the Saambolin professor added, «I don't suppose anyone's come across my library card, have they?» Barlimo shook her head. «That was the first thing I looked for, Rowen. No sign of it.» Rowenaster sighed. «Blast. That just means I have to spend all of tomorrow morning riding the infamous 'Saambolin-Paper-Go-Round.' Better known as the Bureaucratic Bunglebush.» Tree smiled sympathetically. «You'd think the Saam would be nicer to their own kind than they are to us mere rabble,» he added to Barlimo. The Jinnjirri architect snorted. «As was so clearly pointed out to me this afternoon at the Great Library, Tree—the Saam don't make such exceptions.» «What a tedious lot,» remarked Tree. «No offense intended, professor,» he added with a quick smile. Rowenaster chuckled good naturedly. «Believe me—I think they're pretty tedious, too. That's why I live here with you Jinnjirri dullards.» This brought laughter from both Tree and Barlimo. Rowenaster went into the kitchen and rummaged in the cold storage for a piece of fruit. Finding a pommin, he smiled with delight. Like young Yafatah, pommins were the professor's favorite luxury fruit. «Who else is home?» he asked returning to the dauntless Jinnjirri duo in Room O. «Nobody but us fools,» said Tree, carrying out a soup bowl covered with a fine layer of gray-green mold. «Timmer and Mab stopped to get something to eat on the way back from Cobeth's play,» said Barlimo. «They were going to the same place where you and I had lunch today, Rowen. Timmer said she could get meals there for cheap since she was playing for the restaurant.» Rowenaster shook his head. «Can't be that place, Bad. The Piper's Inn serves lunch only. They must've said something else.» «Very possibly,» agreed Barlimo, starting to strip Po's bed. «There were a lot of people talking around us. It was very hard to hear.» «What did you think of Rimble's Remedy?» asked Tree, passing Rowen as he returned to Room O, sponge and pail of suds in hand. «Were you utterly embarrassed by all those acknowledgments on the playbill?» Rowenaster gave the green-haired Jinnjirri a disgruntled scowl. «I would've preferred that Cobeth had given most of them to you, Tree. I'm surprised your friend Rhu didn't make Cobeth put in a good word for you. She was listed as being the editor for the playbill.» «I think,» said Tree, knocking spider webs out of the upper corners of Po's room, «that The Merry Pricksters as a whole have been 'won over,' shall we say? Especially Rhu. The cast party is at her house, tonight. Rumor has it that Cobeth and she are lovers—and don't tell Janusin I said that, okay? Cobeth's hurt him too much already. Add something like this, and I'm not sure Janusin will finish that blasted Trickster statue in time for the Museum's deadline.» Barlimo sneezed as a cloud of dust settled around her head. Taking out a handkerchief, she mumbled, «I sound like Timmer.» Rowenaster looked at Barlimo strangely. Then out of the blue he said, «You're sure Timmer went out to eat?» Barlimo shrugged. «That's what she said she was going to do. Although at the time, I did think it was odd. Before the play, she had been talking about going to the opening night cast party. She had even tried to get Mab to tag along with her. I guess Mab must've talked Timmer out of it entirely. Timmer and Mab were laughing together during intermission.» Rowenaster peeled the pommin in his hand, his expression uneasy. Finding an unused bag of penis sheaths under Po's pillow, Barlimo chuckled and said, «Oh, Po—do dream on.» Catching sight of the condoms, Tree wrinkled his nose. «Can you imagine bedding Po? In this mess?» Rowenaster bit into the sweet, orange meat of the pommin. He chewed slowly, his face a frown. Barlimo looked up. «Isn't that pommin any good? I just bought the batch yesterday. The Asilliwir trader swore they were fresh.» Rowenaster met her eyes. «There are drugs at the cast party, Barl. And not the usual variety.» He paused. It was a well known fact at the 'K' that Timmer had more than a passing interest in drugs. «I wonder,» continued the professor, «if Timmer knew there would be drugs at Rhu's? You keep a very clean household here, Barl. Would Timmer be likely to want you to know she was going to a party of this nature?» Tree stopped cleaning. Barlimo's good-humored hair paled. The Jinnjirri ran to fetch her wool shawl from the peg in the front hall, muttering, «Damn, Timmer!» Tree joined her, his face stricken. «I'm coming with you.» «We don't know that Mab's there,» said Barlimo as calmly as she could manage. Her hair betrayed her, however; it turned a mottled, worried gray. Tree touched a strand of it. «Yes, we do.» Chapter Twenty-Seven The holovepsa Mab had ingested came on in fifteen minutes. During the wait, Cobeth had regaled Mab with first-hand stories of the Rimble's Revels he had attended in Suxonli. Feeling no ill effects from the holovespa at this point, Mab had listened with genuine interest. Cobeth, who had spent years at his sister's knee— specifically Kel's—now spoke of the coming Jinnaeon. Using Kel's native Tammirring understanding of the Greatkin as his own, Cobeth reinterpreted his sister's vision of Rimble's Shifttime. The inspiration belonged to Kelandris, but the words were Cobeth's: «It's time, Mab. It's time to sing with a new voice. It's time to dance a new dance.» Cobeth fondled Mab's belly, placing his hand on top of her womb. «It's time to dream a new dream for the world. Choose, Mab. Choose the color of your fate.» Mab frowned at Cobeth, unsure of what he meant. The Jinnjirri actor laughed. Turning over on his back, he began singing a lively little tune. Written by Kelandris, it was now a Suxonli drinking song: When the Wasp's ascendant in the northern sky, As above, so below—patterns go awry! So choose, choose, choose The color of your fate, Make it Yellow Jacket yellow Rimble's at the gate! Sing it—ah ya, Rimble, As we turn contrary-round, Be nimble boy, be nimble girl While we shake the foundations down! While we shake the foundations down! Cobeth finished the tune and grinned. «We're going to tear this city apart, Mab. And rebuild it. From the foundation up.» He kissed her on the mouth. «You can help, Mab. You can help spread the good news of the sacrament,» said Cobeth glancing at the dildo on the floor. «You can give initiation.» He spoke softly. «This is such important work, my darling. Would you turn down the chance for real purpose in your life? There's a whole new order of things a-borning. Join us, Mab. Join Rimble's Own, and we'll give birth to a new way of thinking and being.» Mab swallowed, tears unexpectedly coming to her eyes. Something ancient stirred in her draw—a distant memory, a gentle call. Unknown to Mab, Cobeth addressed the genuine Contrarywise potency in herself—addressed and irritated the potency into premature wakefulness. Psychic pressure intensified. Mab stared at the dildo on the floor, feeling disoriented. «That aphrodisiac in the wineskin? It's very—uh—strong.» Mab coughed hoarsely. The room had suddenly taken on a larger-than-life reality, and she wasn't sure she liked it. Mab raised her eyes, looking
