crescent, the number of them, and the color white.» «I doon't know,» said Yafatah crossly. «I just thought it up.» Po grunted. «Why?» asked Yafatah. «What be the big deal, anyway?» Po sat down on the bed. He patted a spot next to him. Yafatah scowled at the scruffy Asilliwir thief and sat beside him. Po twirled his stringy mustache thoughtfully. «Look, sweetie, I'm going to talk to you real frank now. And I don't want you telling your ma what I say to you. It's not for her to hear, all right?» «But if me ma asks, I canna' lie to her, Po. She'll know in a second if I lie.» Po took a deep breath. «If you tell her the truth, you'll regret it, Ya. She won't understand. But do what you will.» There was a long pause. Yafatah stared at the floor in her bedroom, feeling uncomfortable. She knew Po was gazing at her intently. Her Tammirring senses monitored his interest in her silence. Yafatah scowled. «What do you be staring at?» «I'm waiting for you to make up your mind.» «About what?» «About entering into a larger world.» Yafatah kicked her bed with her heel. Conversations with Zendrak popped into her mind. How many times had Zendrak told her Po was a better Mayanabi than thief? And hcw many times had he counseled her to ask Po about his training under him? And how many times had Yafatah talked to Podiddley about one thing only—the dishes? The young girl shrugged. Maybe she should give Po a chance to be good. Finally Yafatah said, «So talk to me.» Po pursed his lips. When he returned his gaze to Yafatah, it was intense and very, very sobering. «Ya, you can't have known about putting those candles in just that way without being a Mayanabi yourself. Do you understand? It's one of our most sacred ceremonies.» Yafatah looked at the floor. A single tear slipped down r.er cheek. «You could've told me anything in the world but this, Podiddley. If this be true, I will lose me ma's love. She na abide the Mayanabi. She made exception with Aunt because Aunt was special.» «I know.» There was a short pause. Yafatah swallowed. «Somehow, I doon't be amazed, Podiddley, about me being Mayanabi. When I traveled in caravan, I was always making friends with the Mayanabi Nomads. I just liked them, you know.» «I'm not surprised.» Po sighed deeply, his face becoming sad. «It's too bad Zendrak isn't here. He would've liked doing the initiation for you.» He swore. «I can't believe he's dead. I just can't believe it.» Yafatah watched Po struggle with his feelings. «You really loved him, didna' you?» «Sure.» Yafatah smiled tentatively. «Well, seeing as how you loved Zendrak, I would be honored to be initiated by you. Mr. Podiddley.» Po stiffened in surprise. «Me? How about Himayat? He's been at this path a lot longer than me. He's downstairs in the kitchen making tea.» «You canna initiate me?» Po licked his lips. «Uh—I mean—I guess so. I mean, I can. I just never been asked before.» He peered at Yafatah with stupefaction. «See, the thing is, Ya—if I initiate you, then I'm your Mayanabi Elder. Means I'm supposed to teach you things.» «So?» Po blinked. «Well, I—I just never had a student, that's all.» «So?» Like the others in the house, Yafatah was a natural Contrary. Po took a deep breath. He got to his feet and paced. Under his breath he muttered, «Where the fuck is Zendrak when you really need him? Dead, that's what.» So initiate her, you big baby! Po's face paled. «What's wrong?» asked Yafatah. «Now I'm hearing voices inside my head! That's what's wrong!» Yafatah stared at the Asilliwir man. «Doon't you always hear voices? I do. We Tammi always do. 'Tis as natural as having this conversation.» Po scowled, grumbling under his breath again. «What?» asked Yafatah, starting to think Po didn't like her. «I said, I wonder who's going to be teaching who in this arrangement.» Yafatah shrugged. Po? The little thief shrieked. Yafatah giggled. «What did the voice say?» «Just my name.» «Oh.» Po? Po made a grimace and danced across the room, his hands on either side of his head. «Stop it, stop it, stop it!» He jumped up on the bed. Po, you little boob—just initiate her, will you? You know the ceremony. Don't scare the poor girl. You're quite right. She's Mayanabi. Trust your spiritual instincts as much as you do your thieving ones. Po shut his eyes and hopped about in the center of the bed on one leg. He howled and swore vehemently. Yafatah watched him, her expression puzzled. «Does this mean you're going to initiate me or not, Po? I mean, it do be okay if you think—» «Silence!» shouted Po, coming to a standstill, his eyes suddenly greedy. «I'm getting messages from inside my head! Know what that means, dearie? Means I must've made it into the next rank.» Po grinned gleefully. «At last, at last—out of the scullery and into the real path—» Po, if you don't shut up this instant, I'll take that rank back. It'll be remedial dishwashing for you. One can go backward on this path. «I can?» Po said in astonishment. Without further spluttering, Po sat down and attended to the business at hand. He initiated Yafatah into the Order of the Mayanabi Nomads. What happened between them was a secret, one that Yafatah never told her mother or anybody else. *21* While Yafatah was upstairs with Podiddley, the rest of the house sat downstairs in the kitchen. The group included six of Rimble's Nine and the two Asilliwir, Fasilla and Himayat. Barlimo had just made a large pot of black tea. She poured milk into the cups of those who wanted it. «Honey?» she offered Janusin. The master sculptor nodded, his expression as bleak as his blue hair. He held out his ceramic mug for a spoonful of the golden sweetener. He sighed and said, «I've never felt so depressed in all my life.» Tree and Rowenaster nodded their heads in silence. Tree's hair matched Janusin's moody blue. The professor looked as though he had aged ten years overnight. Every gesture he made was stiff and out of rhythm. Himayat peered at Rowenaster intently. That's what it is, he thought to himself. This whole group is out of rhythm. But from what? he wondered. The Asilliwir Mayanabi glanced out of the kitchen window. He didn't know what he hoped to see out there. Something. Something that explained the terrible drain he felt being directed at the people seated beside him. Himayat continued to watch the professor, but said nothing. Rowenaster cleared his throat. «And if Zendrak's death weren't enough,» he muttered, «I fear we'll lose the house this week.» Barlimo shrugged. Dressed in layers of wools and mismatched clothing, the Jinnjirri architect made a rude noise with her mouth. «It's an ongoing fight with the Guild. That's all. We just have to remain firm and we'll survive. We always have.» «Things are different now,» said Mab softly. «We aren't protected anymore,» she added, glancing at the ceiling, toward the upper floor where Zendrak's body had lain. «It's so scary now. We don't even know where Zendrak's body is. I mean, how can a body just disappear? Everything's going wrong. Everything.» Timmer snorted. «Mab, just shut up, will you? You're really bringing me down. You're a psychic vamp sometimes. Just sucking away everybody's energy with your fear!» Himayat raised an eyebrow. Predictably, Mab burst into tears and ran to the first-floor bathroom to weep over her hurt feelings. No one stopped her. In fact, no one said anything. Fasilla glared at the rest of Mab's housemates and said, «Poor Mab. She just do be sad. You shouldna' judge her so harshly.» Himayat cleared his throat. «Actually, I think Timmer's anger was justified.» There was a short silence. «What do you mean?» asked Timmer. «I mean just this: I feel someone or something directing a great deal of rage and despair at this house. Mab's quite sensitive—» Timmer rolled her eyes. «Yeah. Weeps at everything.» «Yes. And I think she was being used a few minutes ago.» «Used?» asked Barlimo. «By what?» Himayat glanced out the window again. «It's out there, whatever it is.» He stood up. Walking to the window, he watched snow fall lazily from the sky. It was late morning in Speakinghast. Pedestrians wrapped in bright wools and stocking caps trudged through the drifts. Snow melted and froze on the beards of men. It was a raw day. Himayat grunted. «Tell me more about this Elder Hennin person.» «Can't,» said Janusin. «We don't actually know that much about her. Po might. He spent more time with Zendrak than any of us. Ask him.» «I will,» said Himayat. Before he was able to do so, there was a sharp knock at the front door. Timmer went to open it. Looking out the window before she put her hand on the door handle, she came to a complete halt. Eyes wide, the blond musician came tearing back into the kitchen. «It's Gadorian! He's got an armed escort. Shit, what're we going to do?» Barlimo got to her feet slowly. «Do? We've done nothing wrong. We've nothing to hide. Go let the guildmaster in, Timmer. Invite him for tea,» she added, pulling down a clean cup. «This should be interesting,» muttered Rowenaster. Guildmaster Gadorian knocked snow off his black boots as he walked over the threshold of the Kaleidicopia. The two guildguards accompanying him did likewise. They were, after all, Saambolin; they were innately polite. Gadorian greeted Rowenaster and Janusin, who came out of kitchen after Timmer closed the door after the Saambolin threesome. Rowenaster sighed. «You're such a bastard,» he said simply. «Sometimes that's my job, Rowen,» retorted Gadorian. Rowenaster shrugged. «Well, come and have tea, then. Barlimo's making you a fresh cup.» «Thank you,» said Gadorian. Turning to the guards, he said, «Relax if you want. But stay in the hall area.» «As you wish,» they said, saluting Gadorian, their swords still sheathed. Gadorian tromped into the Kaleidicopia's cheery kitchen. A blazing fire crackled in the hearth while water boiled over the stove. The kitchen smelled sweetly of some herbs Barlimo and Fasilla had been drying earlier in the morning. Bunches of the dried stuff lay in neat heaps on one of the wooden counters. Gadorian went to sniff the nearest bunch. «It's all legal,» said Barlimo, handing the guildmaster his tea. He scowled at the Jinnjirri architect and took a seat at the table. Like Mattermat's, Gadorian's body was so large, he spilled out of the chair. Privately lithe Timmer wondered if the chair would support such weight. She decided that if the chair broke with the guildmaster still sitting in it, justice would be served. Every person in the room with the exception of Himayat knew why Gadorian was here. The smug smile on Gadorian's face told them everything. Barlimo pulled up a chair. Her sex fluctuated for a moment. Gaining control over her emotions, the Jinnjirri said, «So where're the papers? I assume you've come to serve us our eviction notice.» Gadorian pulled them out of the leather purse he wore over his shoulder. He threw the papers on the table. He continued to sip his tea in the intervening silence. Barlimo picked them up. She rifled through them, her hair turning from dark blue to blue-black. «Seems like everything's in order. Where do I sign?» Astonished at Barlimo's
Вы читаете Tricksters Touch
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату