Tricksters Touch

she wasn't losing her edge. Or her intelligence. The last thing she wanted to feel was generosity toward the man who had ruined her life in Suxonli. Cobeth regarded Kelandris steadily. «You still don't trust me, do you?» «Nope.» He shrugged. «Can't say as I blame you. I fucked things up for you pretty royally.» Before she could retort, Cobeth added, «You sure took on a lot for us in Suxonli, Kelandris. I could never have done what you did. It's a good thing you turned instead of me.» Kelandris snorted. «Now he tells me! After sixteen years!» Cobeth shrugged. «Maybe I didn't see it to tell you before now. So I'm slow, okay?» Kelandris shook her head, her expression furious. «This apology is supposed to make everything all better?» she asked Zendrak. «Do you accept this muck he's speaking?» Zendrak reached over and pulled a wet strand of dark hair out of Kel's face. Then he said, «You don't have to love who Cobeth was. You just have to let him be sorry for what he did. That's his healing, Kelandris. Surely you can grant him that.» Kelandris took a deep breath. «I don't want him doing this kind of thing again—when he next incarnates. Who will stop him if he starts to do so? Who will protect the innocent?» Rimble spoke now. «Well, actually we don't have someone to do that job. Unless you want to take it, of course,» he added, giving his daughter a bored look. Kelandris studied Trickster. «Meaning what?» Rimble shrugged. «Nah. It was a dumb idea —» «What was?» Kelandris demanded. Rimble sneered at her. «To let you be the Patron of Innocence and Purity. For one thing you've taken to wearing black again. Like you're dead or something. For Another, you don't believe in your own innocence—» «But I wasn't innocent in Suxonli!» she shouted, tears irting to her eyes. «I killed eight people. I spoke the Mythrrim called The Turn of Trickster's Daughter. I know,» added with more emotion than she wanted anyone to see or hear. «Shit!» she muttered and averted her face, tears coming to her eyes. «Perhaps you would repeat that particular verse for us, Kelandris,» said Troth, who had been standing unseen in the shadows. «Leave me alone!» she replied, her voice hoarse. Zendrak touched the back of her shoulder. «Speak it, Kel. You might discover something worth knowing.» Kelandris swore. Then she shut her eyes, turning herself over to the Mythrrim consciousness in her being. Time fell away. Words rose in her mind. She coughed and cleared her throat. Finally, Kelandris said: «Stumbling, the he lost control of Rimble's line; Eight were too few to ground Yonneth's rage. 'Twas a bad beginning for Rimble's first nine. As the minds of his circle began to cook and burn, All Suxonli was swept into the searing rogue turn Of Trickster's injured daughter.» There was a long silence. Finally, Troth said, «I don't see anywhere in that verse where it says you intentionally killed eight people, Kel.» «I was supposed to hold the line!» she cried. «The draw got away from me.» Cobeth started laughing. Kelandris stared at him. «I ought to slap your face!» Cobeth immediately sobered. «I was laughing because you're being so stupid for a Greatkin. You still don't get it, do you? You still don't understand that the draw of Suxonli was under Elder Hennin's control even at that time. What happened in Suxonli was political, Kelandris. Hennin needed you to break the rhythm of the draw so she could get it under her control. When the power got loose and pandemonium erupted at Revel Rock, Hennin was ready for it. While everyone was blaming you, she grabbed the draw. No one noticed. I didn't find out myself until the following year. Of course, I played into it by discovering you had turned on your menses. Even if you hadn't gotten your bloodcycle that night, you would've lost control of the power. It was all rigged. You didn't have a chance. You were guilty with or without a trial, Kelandris. Hennin wanted power. She knew you had an overabundant supply. She used yours to secure her own.» Cobeth shrugged. «So you see it's really stupid for you to keep thinking you killed all those people. You did—but only superficially. It was Hennin's will that caused the draw to run wild like that. You were young and untrained—she had seen to that. I know because she told me in later years when I used to go and apprentice with her in the summer. Despite the fact that you were a Greatkin, it was a fairly easy matter for her—a trained Mayanabi Nomad—to wrest control of the draw away from you.» Kelandris said nothing, her mind scrambling to make sense of all Cobeth had said. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and said, «You're saying I killed eight people, but I'm not to blame.» «He's saying it was an accident,» replied Troth. «Your part, that is. Hennin's part was deliberate, of course.» «So I'm not a murderess?» Rimble shrugged. «Not as far as the Greatkin are concerned. Especially us folks in Neath. Suxonli? Well, village laws are slow to change. And village justice is slow in coming. If I were you, daughter, I'd forget about the judgment at Suxonli.» Kelandris met Trickster's eyes evenly. «That's all very well, but you're forgetting one thing, aren't you? You're forgetting the eight people who died. Surely they would rather have lived. Surely they can't have forgiven my part in this.» Troth grinned. «Give a little, get a little.» «What?» «Let's ask them, shall we?» said the Greatkin of Death, going to stand in the shadows. He made a swift gesture with his hand several times as if he were drawing something up from the ground. In moments, the eight villagers who had participated in the fateful turn sixteen years ago in Suxonli arrived. Recognizing their faces, Kelandris stepped backward, her expression horrified. She expected them to accuse her anew of her crime. Instead, one of the dead handed her a written scroll. Kelandris took it gingerly. She opened it and stared at the words, her face paling with shock. «What's it say?» asked Zendrak. «It says that I am pardoned. In big letters,» she added. Cobeth smiled. «I'm glad, Kel. I'm really glad. It was a stupid business all the way around. Mostly you were an okay sister to have. You deserved better than what happened in Suxonli.» Zendrak tousled Kel's dark, damp hair. «How does it feel?» «How does what feel?» «To be pardoned?» Kelandris shrugged. «I don't know. I'll have to get used to it, I guess.» She paused. «It's a little like going into a wardrobe and finding out that all the clothes one wears most often have suddenly fallen apart at the seams—with no hope of repair. Makes me feel a little naked,» she added, her posture clearly uncomfortable with the idea. Zendrak smiled at her, his dark eyes kind. Kelandris turned toward the eight shades who were still standing around her in silence. Gazing at each of them, Kelandris said, «Thank you.» The shades bowed to Greatkin Kelandris and departed. There was a long silence. After a few moments, Kel asked Zendrak if he was alive or not. And if he wasn't going to get a new body, she added to Troth, would it be possible for her to remain in Neath, too? Rimble answered Kelandris. «He's about as dead as he's ever going to be. And about as alive as he's ever going to be. By this, I mean, Zendrak is mostly Greatkin. Being mostly Greatkin, Zendrak can decide if he wishes to incarnate again and in what form. And at what age.» Rimble gestured at his son. «It's up to you, see. You want to go back with Kelandris?» Zendrak nodded. «There's this little inn I know…» He wig-wagged his eyebrows. Kelandris, who had been living like a celibate for the past six months, stiffened. «Uh—are you sure? Maybe it's too soon—» Zendrak glared at Trickster's daughter. «You want me to stay in Neath? Without you?» «Well, no, but I—» Watching this exchange, Rimble broke into peals of laughter. *18* Dressed in his usual greens and Kel still in black, Zendrak and Kelandris rode back toward Speakinghast in silence. They had traveled the distance between the plane of Neath and the land of Saambolin in a matter of a few minutes. Further walked slowly in the moonlit open road that would eventually lead to the North Gate of Speakinghast, the mare's coat shining in the silver light from above the two riders. Zendrak rode with his arms snugly wrapped around Kel's waist. Feeling weary from the physical shock of having gone swimming in the river of Neath, Kelandris leaned against Zendrak's chest, her eyes closed, rocked by the gentle motion of the mare's dawdling pace. Zendrak leaned forward and whispered, «You asleep?» «No, but I'd like to be,» she said, stifling a yawn. Sleep in a comfortable bed felt very appealing to both Greatkin. Zendrak stabled Further at the next inn they passed. It was a large place with beds for twenty and ample food and pasture for the Greatkin mare. Zendrak jumped off and helped Kelandris down. The two Greatkin approached the front desk of the inn called «Mother's Milk and Breakfast.» It was a cheery establishment run by a husband and wife team of Piedmerri-born. The innkeeper took the pertinent information, Piedmerri style. «Any children traveling with you?» Kelandris stiffened involuntarily. Zendrak put his arm around her waist protectively. Kelandris had said precious little about her feelings about never having had children, but he suspected she was feeling the loss of that opportunity deeply. «No, no children,» said Zendrak. «Are you ringfasted?» «No,» said Zendrak. Then he smiled. «We're soulfasted.» The Piedmerri scratched his large belly, inclining his head. «So does that mean you'll be wanted a double bed? I mean, are you legal?» Zendrak was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. «Since when do legalities interest the Piedmerri-born, sir?» «We're in Saambolin, mate. And in Saambolin, you play by their rules or you get trounced—if you know what I mean.» «I know what you mean,» said Kel unexpectedly. «So are you legal?» continued the plump fellow. Zendrak rolled his black eyes, wondering if they should've spent the night in Neath. «No,» he said gruffly. «We're not legal.» The wife of the innkeeper, who had been listening to this conversation as she tidied a nearby closet, turned around and asked, «But are you in love, sir?» «Now, Melli, what's that got to do with it?» demanded her husband. «Everything,» she said, grinning broadly, her plump cheeks as rosy as a blush apple. She toddled over. «So? Are you?» she asked, looking first at Zendrak and then at Kelandris. «Are you in love?» Zendrak nodded his head. «Yes. But I don't know if—» Kelandris cut him off. «Yes, we're in love. May we have the double bed, please?» Zendrak stared at Kelandris, his expression a mixture of astonishment and undisguised delight. He paid the innkeeper the sum he required and added a little extra to cover their indiscretion. As Zendrak and Kelandris turned to go up the winding staircase, Zendrak said in a low voice that only Kelandris could hear: «What made you say that?» Kelandris shrugged. «It just sort of popped out. Maybe Neath had something to do with it. I don't know.» «Neath?» Kelandris nodded almost shyly. «Phebene told me she wanted us