'I'm not the only one-' began Tal.
'No, Talbot, indeed you are not. I'm just as much to blame.'
Tal tried to mask his surprise. His father had never admitted a mistake in front of him before.
'There's another reason I wanted to talk with you,' said Tal. 'I have a business proposition.'
By the expression on Thamalon's face, it was clear he had not expected those words. 'Go on,' he said.
'Quickly left her shares of the playhouse to be divided among us all,' said Tal. 'Only I never took a salary, so she converted my pay to extra shares. And she counted the money I gave her in the beginning as a loan, with interest.'
Thamalon was nodding.
'So I'm the majority shareholder in the Wide Realms playhouse,' said Tal.
'As well as the primary debtor,' concluded Thamalon. 'Is that it?'
'The way I figure it, the amount due each year is just over half as much as the rent on my tallhouse.'
Thamalon's eyebrows jumped again. 'Are you asking me to increase your stipend?'
'No,' said Tal. 'Hear me out. I'm offering to give up the tallhouse and asking for the money instead.'
'Your mother would like having you back home,' said Thamalon.
'We've already talked. I'll go with her to the opera every once in a while.'
'You move back to Stormweather, or it's no bargain.'
'But-' Tal tried to sound indignant without whining. The more he thought on it, the more he realized Chancy had been right about that flaw in his character. 'Throw in Eck-ert's salary,' he said. 'The costumes are getting a bit shabby.'
'What? You're in no position to bargain, young man.'
'You want me to live at home, it's going to cost you,' said Tal. 'And I'll throw in fifty shares of the Wide Realms at half value.'
'A hundred shares!' countered Thamalon. 'With full determination rights.'
'A hundred silent only… and only if you and mother come to twelve shows each year.'
'Six,' said Thamalon. 'Shell never go for twelve.'
'Eight-and you don't bring Tamlin. I want that part in writing.'
'Done!'
They shook hands to seal the bargain.
Tal finished raking the playhouse yard and climbed up onto the stage for some shade from the hot summer sun. There was no one else in the yard, but he heard some of the women talking backstage. He made no effort at stealth, but he heard them long before they realized he was approaching.
'… and Chaney if it's a boy,' said Feena. She could barely contain her excitement.
'What will Tal think about that?' asked Sivana clutching Feena's arm in a girlish gesture Tal never would have expected from her.
'Tal thinks he needs to sit down,' said Tal, 'if I understand you correctly.'
He leaned on the rake for support, for the very idea of Feena bearing his child made him dizzy. He knew it was possible, but he had hoped it would not happen so soon. Running a business was more than enough responsibility for him. Parenthood was a greater task than he welcomed.
Sivana laughed. It was a big, throaty sound that reminded Tal of Mistress Quickly. Since her death, Sivana had adopted a markedly matriarchal role among the players, playing mother to Tal's father. Tal didn't mind that, so long as it didn't cause friction with Feena or the other players. On the contrary, Sivana and Feena had become so close that Tal was beginning to worry more about their outnumbering him than quarrelling over his time and attention.
'Oh, you big goof,' said Feena, wiping away her own tears of laughter. 'When was the last time you understood anything correctly?'
'Well…' Tal knew enough that he left it there. He was too relieved to learn that he was not suddenly a father that he didn't mind the slight.
'Hasn't Lommy told you, yet?'
'Told me what?'
'Maybe you should climb up to the heavens and have a peek inside?' suggested Sivana. 'But be quiet about it.'
There was a ladder backstage, but it was faster to climb up the gallery rails and onto the stage roof. Both Sivana and Feena tsked at him as he took Lommy's preferred route.
'One day,' Sivana always warned him, 'you'll fall right through that thatching.'
'Be careful up there,' called Feena in a stage whisper. Tal crept along the thatching on all fours, trying to spread his weight as evenly as possible. As he approached the clarion door, he peered inside.
'Lommy?' he called softly. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the ragged outlines of the tasloi's nest. He had rarely climbed up to their lair, where Otter spent most of his time. The reclusive tasloi was virtually the opposite of his outgoing, clownish brother.
'Tal!' came Lommy's whispering voice, as did the sibilant sounds of Otter's response. Tal saw Otter curled protectively around an even smaller creature. Dark gray and wrinkly, it looked like a miniature tasloi-which is exactly what it was.
Lommy clambered over the window sill and sat on the thatching with Tal, uncharacteristically calm. Usually the little creature was a trembling spring, ready to shoot in any direction unexpectedly.
'I thought Otter was your brother,' said Tal. 'Otter brother,' agreed Lommy, grinning. 'Chaney little brother.'
'I see,' said Tal, gazing fascinated at the mewling infant. While Quickly's insistence that the tasloi never improve their pidgin Common might make them more charming for the audiences, Tal never anticipated such a profound failure to communicate.
'Tal big brother,' said Lommy, climbing onto Tal's shoulder and clinging to his hair. 'Tal happy?'
'Oh, yes,' said Tal. 'Tal very happy. Dumbfounded, flabbergasted, astonished, and a few other big words, but Tal happy.'
They sat together on the roof, peering in every now and again to watch Otter cradling the baby. After a while, Lommy pulled Tal's ear affectionately and went inside to join his new family.
'It was hard enough dealing with one family,' said Tal, 'but now I've got three.'
He and Feena lay on their backs in the yard of the darkened theater. They looked up at the waning moon as it dipped below the edge of the round roof.
'You've been with the players for years,' said Feena, 'you've come to good terms with your parents, and Lommy and Otter take care of little Chaney themselves. How hard can it be?'
'You have no idea,' said Tal. 'I just feel like I have to take care of everything these days, like I have to look out for everyone.'
'And you're complaining? I thought that's what you liked best?'
Tal thought about that for a moment. 'I do like it,' he admitted. 'It's better than having other people trying to look out for me all the time. But it's a lot of work.'
'So you're whining because…?'
'I'm not whining,' he insisted. He thought of Chaney and bit his lip. 'All right, so maybe I was whining just a little.'
'And you'll quit it now.'
'And I'll quit it now.'
Feena slipped her hand into his. They looked up at the moon and the stars, dreaming their separate dreams until Tal spoke again.
'Thank you, Feena.'
