power to maintain it, but now I'm sure we can both agree that it would be better for all concerned if I looked a little less??ntimidating.'
'Where's Paama?’ demanded Sister Deian.
'I honestly have no idea. I'm not really involved. Trust me, none of my kind would wish to get caught up in this matter.'
He was afraid that they would think he was lying, but, both Dreamer and Reader looked at him, their faces showed disappointment at the truth of his words.
'But that has nothing to do with me. Won't you let me have back my disguise?'
Sister Elen had the pained expression of someone who was thinking very very quickly. ‘You have to agree to leave Makendha and never return again.'
'Never?’ he said, dismayed.
'Never,’ she reiterated firmly.
He nodded, pretending to be resigned, but secretly he thought that there were always ways to get around ‘never'.
'And since you and your ... kind cannot—or will not—help us find Paama, you must go to Ahani and hire us the best tracker you can find,’ she went on bravely.
'I can do that,’ he acknowledged. ‘And you will let me have my disguise back, so that I can carry out this mission?'
'No. You can have it back only when the tracker reaches the House and is approved by us,’ said Sister Elen.
'And has found Paama,’ added Sister Deian.
'You bargain shrewdly. You must have heard about me before,’ he smiled. Unfortunately, this movement showed itself as an ominous clicking of the mandibles, which caused the two Sisters to jump back in fear.
'No, no, I will do as you say. I will find you a tracker and stay in Ahani. You can return my disguise to me from a distance?’ he asked pleadingly.
'Yes, once the terms are all met,’ said Sister Deian.
'Agreed, then.'
The spider-man backed away cautiously so that no sudden move of his might startle them, waved a foreleg gently in the air in farewell, and vanished.
18
the spider in his parlour and a very eager fly
And so we return to a familiar scene—the spider-man sitting in a bar, observing and choosing his victims. If his seat was a little farther back in the darkness than usual, and if the bar was less cheerily lit than his previous haunts, we can understand why. He was a little nervous about having no disguise to fall back on.
The thought crossed his mind that he did not have to put up with this. Although he had long borne the spider shape, he could yet retire it and craft a less remarkable shadow. It would take a little time to do it, but the change might do him good. Perhaps??erhaps indeed it was time to put aside the legend of the Trickster with one last trick.
Then he relented. Better to start a straight trail with an honest deed.
Other honest deeds had been faithfully carried out. Alton's writings, the first part of a great work, had been sent by courier to an agent. Neila's orders for fabric and other wedding paraphernalia had been delivered to the appropriate stores, and the goods were being shipped directly to Makendha. Alton's household was being managed by a temporary majordomo, a junior looking for advancement hired from the chief's staff in Makendha. He thought it was temporary, but the Trickster knew that a permanent offer was just around the corner.
The Trickster sighed. All he needed was for one more thing to go right.
The first adventurer he approached with a free drink (alcohol definitely helped his situation), was a big man of middle years who had recently suffered an injury and was trying to return to full marketability. The spider-man recognised another trickster when he saw one, and this man was hiding the fact that he had lost his nerve after the accident that had nearly maimed him permanently. It was a common characteristic among the warriors—no fear of death, and only pride for their scars, but little thought of all that could happen in between those two extremes.
Then there were a few who were more brag than bravery, youngsters who had little or no experience who were travelling the world to find themselves. There were others who, having unfortunately found themselves, were seeking a way to get lost again. All these the Trickster turned away. He knew something about the business of tracking, and it required single-mindedness, not self-absorption.
Precious days were lost in this way, and he began to think that perhaps it was time to be less picky. Then, at last, the perfect tracker found him. He was a thin man of medium height, with light scars tracing his left cheek just below his eye. There was an expression of muted amusement on his face, as if he thought he was part of some grand joke and was glad of it. The Trickster found his face naggingly familiar, which was surprising, because he knew he had never met him before. But we have met this stranger, oh yes, a long trail back. More than mere coincidence had brought him to the Trickster. Certain information had come to him, making him realise that there was unfinished business on his karmic plate.
'You've been looking for me,’ he proclaimed to the spider-man who, as usual, had tucked himself discreetly into the darkest, farthest corner of the room.
Then he added audaciously, ‘Aren't you going to buy me a drink?'
'That depends,’ said the Trickster cautiously. ‘Who told you I was looking for you?'
The newcomer shrugged. ‘There are many answers to that. I could say that the word is out in Ahani that someone is sifting through the city's entire allotment of trackers to find the very best. In fact, I think that is the best answer for now.'
And he made a small, elegant gesture with his hand as if to say, ‘your play'.
'It is true that I am looking for a tracker, an excellent tracker. The assignment is no ordinary quarry,’ the Trickster murmured, signalling to the barman for an extra glass of spirits.
The tracker caught the barman's attention and signed for water instead. The Trickster didn't know whether to be impressed or worried.
'In what way is your quarry unusual?’ asked the tracker.
The Trickster's eyes gleamed with pleasure. This would be enjoyable.
'It leaves no trail. It can travel from one end of the earth to the other in the blink of an eye. Oh, and did I mention it has the powers of chaos at its side?'
'What does that mean, exactly?’ asked the tracker, as if only slightly curious.
'It means that if there is a chance of your getting lost, or run over by an omnibus, or hit by debris from a falling star??ell, you'd be surprised how easily those chances can get called up when your enemy has the right tool to hand.'
'So, it sounds as if I shall have to be careful that this quarry does not suspect I am following,’ mused the tracker.
'There is more,’ the Trickster snapped. ‘There are others on the trail?'
'...The nonexistent trail,’ the tracker interjected helpfully.
The Trickster glared at him. ‘Exactly so. There are others, as I was saying, and it is best that you do not try to get between them and the quarry.'
'When I do track down the quarry, assuming there is nothing stopping me from doing so, what am I to do then? Return it to you?'
The Trickster relaxed and leaned back. Here at last was the enjoyable bit. ‘That is not my concern. I have been instructed to hire the best tracker Ahani has to offer. More information on your duties will have to come directly from your employers.'
