‘Is that Procedure?’ I warned.
‘Bugger that. You heard Motto – we need light.’
She ran off. I saw her knock Hat down and quickly do the deed on him. I clicked my tongue some more and shook my head.
She came back groaning flamboyantly.
‘Sshh! Remember! Rats!’ I hissed.
‘Trinket, go and shit in your cap, would you? Can you smell any Rat?’ She sat down and held her belly. ‘Aah. Hooh. Haa.’
Hat came up scowling, clipping the belt of his green-pants. ‘Bugger you blind, you minx. Did you see what she did?’
‘Ha!’ said Snap. ‘Milking you for light’s what I’m here for, Hat. And you’re here to be milked.’ She opened her shirt to make way for her swelling belly.
‘You’re just a hot-pot, that’s your trouble,’ said Hat.
Motto and I had the Map undone. It was finely striped, proper Script-paper, with a single line of Script across the middle. ‘Look at this rough edge,’ I said. ‘Maybe it is torn from a larger map?’
‘But the Script is all constrained to the middle,’ said Motto. ‘So I do not think we are missing any. This is excellent. How goes it, Snap?’
‘Hoo. Hoo. Hoo— Very well— hoo—’
‘Can we eat, while we wait?’ said Hat.
‘Not and keep to Procedure,’ said Motto.
‘Fuck Procedure’s eyes. I need food. Popping takes it out of a person.’
‘Nevertheless.’ Motto was crawling all over the Map, and rolling to flatten it.
Snap’s whole front glowed yellow. ‘Here we go. Here we go –’ A dot of bright light appeared on her belly, and opened out round and wide. ‘Ah!’ She forced out the light-globule. Her belly snapped closed and she panted, her eyes shining. ‘It’s a beauty.’
‘Over here,’ said Motto. The light flew gently to him, and he whistled. ‘Very clear Script, Trinket. No erasures or obliterations.’
‘Can you get a general sense of it?’ I said.
‘Passion. Care. Those are the immediate possibilities.’ We stood around waiting. ‘So lucky, with this quietness,’ I murmured. Hat’s stomach burtled, making the silence pointed. The light-globe backed and forthed over the crinkled Script-paper, stretching and shrinking shadows. The Script began to tangle and shine, to swell and show its Essence. It heaped up on the paper in tangling skeins of red and gold and purple light.
‘Now there’s a Passion for you,’ said Motto.
‘Which one is it?’ Even Hat was impressed.
Snap snorted. ‘I think it’s fairly clearly Love, Hat.’
‘That’s Love? Bugger it – I wanted something with Mischief in it.’
‘And what about these other pieces?’ I asked Motto. Two groups of Script at either end of the Love-mound had formed flatter, duller mounds of interwoven shapes. ‘They look like High Ones’ belt-buckles.’
‘Light-seed to a Love-mission!’ moaned Hat. ‘How will I ever live it down?’
Motto cleared his throat. ‘Well, Trinket, those would have to be the names of the two parties. Pretty, don’t you think?’
‘Mm. What are they?’
He shielded his eyes against the Love’s light. ‘This one is ... Lee-sah. And over here ... Naw-bair. With the positioning of them, the Love flows from Leesah to Nawbair. You can even see it.’ And indeed there did seem to be some light streaming from the Love-mound towards Nawbair’s name-shape.
Motto walked around on the Map, eyeing the Script from all sides. He took off his cap and made scratch lines all over his scalp. The light-globe was beginning to fade now, but the Love’s Essence and the two names beamed shifting colours up into our faces. The streaming was now quite clear, tatters of light blowing loose from the main mound and over the Nawbair name.
‘I think what we have here,’ said Motto, ‘is a classic mission of Correcting an Imbalance—’
‘Oh, spare us the goose-shite. What do we do?’ said Hat.
Snap pushed him. ‘Let Motto say!’
Motto was looking miffed.
‘So we must stop this streaming?’ I asked.
He replaced his cap, flicked his ear-tips out from under it, and folded his arms. ‘On the contrary, I think we must Evoke some streaming from the other side also.’
‘Some Love must flow from Nawbair to Leesah, you mean?’ said Snap.
‘Precisely. So we must Influence Nawbair.’
‘And can you draw a bead on this jove?’ said Hat, then moaned softly, ‘I’m so hungry.’
‘Oh, for gods’ sake,’ said Snap, ‘can we give him some waypork? And I know that’s not Procedure.’ She rolled her eyes at me.
‘We cannot,’ I said. ‘Not if popping is required. Be quiet now while we establish it.’
‘You are such a bloody suckhole, Trinket!’ said Hat.
‘Shut up!’ said Snap. ‘She’s just doing her job.’
Motto knelt beside Nawbair’s name and described Signs with his hands. One day I might be able to do half as good work, but I would never have such fine hands for it. His were special and delicate; mine were just Hand hands, for blunt work.
He spread his bony fingers above the name, and his narrowed eyes went sightless. ‘He is not anywhere nearby. We will definitely have to pop.’
‘Fuck and fuck it again. How far?’
‘Ooh! Quite far. He does not live here; this is some kind of daily prison we are in.’
‘A prison?’ Snap looked around fearfully.
‘Yes, but the prisoners may go to their homes to sleep and eat, also to change their clothing and to be with parents – although they do not enjoy that.’
‘It sounds as if you have a good fix on him, Motto,’ I said.
‘Oh, yes. He is at home and sleeping now, very deeply. Now would be a good time to pop in.’
‘We will want to come back here afterwards?’
‘Yes please, Trinket. Or to wherever this Map blows if a wind should spring up.’
‘I’ll hold it down,’ said Hat. ‘Leave me and some pork and I’ll keep it in place while you go and Influence.’
‘Oh, Hat, you know that’s not how it’s done,’ said Snap.
I got out my pot of sticky and put a glom on the Map to mark it. ‘Very well, then, let’s go.’
First I, then Snap, and finally Hat hooked ourselves back-ways to Motto.
‘Have you drawn the bead, Motto?’ I asked.
‘I’m right on the jove and holding.’
We closed our eyes and popped. This time there was less spangling and wooziness, but when we were spat out behind the jove’s head we still had to fall apart and breathe a little.
‘Whoo!’ said Snap.
‘This is softer.’ I poked at the pushy, pale ground. ‘Fabricked. This must be one of those “pilloes”.’
‘State the fucking obvious, why don’t you?’ Hat rolled onto all fours and retched.
I caught Snap’s eye. ‘Just think, now, if we’d given him pork.’ She looked away queasily.
‘We’ll need another light,’ said Motto.
‘I can see!’ said Hat hurriedly, between groans. ‘I can see to put a snag up, easy!’
‘Can we wait some?’ said Snap.
‘Speediness is next to goddishness,’ said Motto. I was getting a little tired of his Virtue. ‘How are you, Trinket?’
‘Ready to do my duty.’ I jumped to attention.
‘Go to it, then.’
‘Ah.’ I realized what I had said. ‘Well, get up, Hat.’
‘Unh?’
‘We must do the deed, for light.’
‘But I can see!’
‘Do it, Trinket,’ said Motto. ‘Let’s not waste time.’
‘Under orders,’ I apologized as I booted Hat onto his back. I did the deed on him quite slowly, for a good long light in case anything should go wrong. He groaned and coughed underneath me all the while.
I walked away to bring forth the light-globule; I don’t like to be watched for that sort of thing, especially by pe
ople in a hurry. When it came out, it was worth all the groaning and stretching, it was so big and intense. I had never seen a light so good, myself.
‘Right. Snagging time. Go, Hat.’ Motto was a-sheen with energy.
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Hat unlooped the snag and threw it up to the jove’s ear; we all scrambled up the cord, the hair wiry and warm underfoot.
‘In there?’ I eyed the dark ear-hole with its fancy door.
‘’Tis the best place for Influence,’ said Motto.
‘We won’t all fit in there.’
‘Only I will go. I will not need a Hand for this part of the mission.’
We sat about in the hair-grass as he prepared. He took the starry cap with the silver bell from its satchel with a lovely Reverence, and when he put it on he looked properly High and wizardly. He took the Sphere from its velvet and gently polished it ready, then rewrapped it and tucked it back inside his shirt.
‘Can we eat now?’ said Hat.
Snap smacked him. ‘Watch and learn,’ she said.
‘Aaarrgh. I’ll eat him in a minute.’
‘Sshh!’
‘Be utterly quiet now,’ said Motto, and lowered himself into the hole. I sat on a part of the rim that formed a natural, slightly bristly seat. The whole place had a curious earthen smell about it.
Motto gave a little squeak and his fingertips disappeared from the rim. What – the head was hollow? I scrambled forward. No, there he was, just down there. The stars and moons on his cap gleamed as the light-globe shifted around behind me. Motto did not look up – he was already settling into his Mood.
He took out the Sphere, unwrapped it, held it on its cloth and began to chant. Oh, he was very good, swift but solemn, tossing off the crisp consonants and the reverberant vowels of mage-speak as if he had spoken them since birth.
The Sphere responded, appearing to explode slightly into a puff of Love-light in his hands, mauve and yellow with touches of red, snaking around on itself. He talked the Influence fuzzier at the edges, and larger. It swelled to encompass his own head, then filled the ear-hole to brimming with tangling brightness. Motto’s chant came up through it without hesitation or strain. I sat back as the light began to swell out. I could not help smiling at Motto’s sure touch – and on our first mission! - and at the beauty of this thing he was working.
‘Aargh!’ Hat said behind me. ‘How long’s this going to take?’
There was no time to answer this rudeness, for a terrible convulsion shook the jove-head and tumbled me off the ear-door. I grabbed some hair to stop myself being flung farther.
‘Fuck me dead and blind!’ shouted Hat from somewhere on the far side of the ear.
The light-globe darted away. A vast jove-hand came at the ear, squashed the puff of Love there, fingered the hole with a concentrated roughness, and went away. Shreds of torn Passion floated off and faded on the darkness. I lay there clinging. ‘Motto. Motto!’ He could not survive that, surely?
Then the whole world began to tumble. I was thrown off the head and rolled and rolled. Only quick action with my snag stopped me flying off the sleeping-plateau.
Nawbair’s head had turned right over, and re-settled. I stood up aghast, my snag still in the ground-fabric in case of another convulsion.
I heard a frightened muttering in the folds to my right. ‘Dags and bleeding dildoes. Fuck the gods and their whims. Who gives a gobbet of goose-shite whether he Loves her back or not?’
‘Snap is all right?’ I called.
‘Snap’s gone I don’t know where.’ Hat clambered into view. I straightened up and looked around – and saw nothing but the jove’s giant face, with its whistling nose, rushing mouth and vast, lidded eyes.
‘Did Motto happen to fly out?’ said Hat.
‘I didn’t see him. I saw a finger mash him and then I was thrown off.’
‘Mash him?’ Hat’s ear-tips flattened to the side of his head. ‘You saw the mash?’
‘No, only the finger. But he must be mash, it was so ferocious. I hadn’t thought a sleeping jove could do that.’
‘Nor I.’ Hat looked sick. ‘Oh, my. Have we lost him, then?’
‘I think we must have.’
‘Aagh.’ He held his head; his cap-bell fell forward with a tinkle. ‘And all I could think of was my stomach! What kind of missionary am I?’
‘I’d have thought Snap would crawl out from somewhere by now,’ I said.
Hat held his cheeks, staring at me. ‘Did she fall past you and off the pillo?’
‘I didn’t see her.’
‘She was still hanging on when I fell off – gods strike me!’ He turned and gazed in horror at the jove’s great head.
We crept towards it, clutching each other, skirting the breeze-ways. The light-globe came down and hovered nervously above us.
Then Hat gave a whimpering cry and flung himself on me. ‘Ah, Trinket! No, don’t look! She is elf-mash! The god has her!’
‘Hie. Hie. Calm down. Stop it, Hat. Hat!’
I managed to calm him to only loud weeping; then I pushed him aside and went forward. The light-globe was trembling by the jove’s eyelid. From under the massive head, among the wiry eyelashes, a tiny hand projected.
Shakily I knelt. ‘It has not been much time, though,’ I muttered, and reached in and stroked the limp fingers. ‘And the ground is very soft. There may be a chance –’ I reached for my sticky-pot. ‘Hat! I need you, and quickly!’
He came up sniffling. ‘How?’
‘You must pull her out, when I lift the head.’
‘Lift it? You can do that, with sticky?’
‘Of course.’ I had never lifted anything this big, but my hands were scooping out sticky as if they knew it would work. And what else could I do? I was no kind of mage.
I knew not to sticky the eyelid; that would only lift the lid. But that was about all I knew. I used up all the sticky I had, glomming it thickly along the cheek and brow bones – and wished I had just a little bit more, to be sure.
‘All right? You are ready, Hat? Get in close and be holding the hand. You will only have a tiny moment.’
He nodded, swollen-eyed, and crouched in among the eyelash wires.
I took and released a preparatory breath. Then I said a quick, clear prayer of Concentration, bowed, and waited for the sticky to blow.
Thump. Thick, grey smoke shot away from the giant face. The head didn’t move much, but it did move. Then I breathed in some choking sticky-smoke, and had to stagger clear. Sickly, coughing, I watched the light-globe dancing, unable to light much in the smoke.
Finally Hat came, dragging Snap’s body, coughing into his sleeve. He got her into clear air, and we threw ourselves on our knees beside her. I slapped her cheeks, shook the point of her chin. ‘Snap! Are you there?’
‘Arruggff,’ she said finally, and her eyes fluttered open.
‘Oh, Snap!’ wept Hat, tearing off his cap and flinging himself on her chest. ‘I thought you were mash! I thought we would never see you again!’
‘Get off, you great lump,’ I said, pushing at him. ‘She may be broken!’
‘I’m not,’ she said, blinking and vaguely patting Hat’s black-straw hair. ‘But let me breathe.’
‘But I was so frightened! When that bastard jove lay on you, and your little hand was sticking out – oh, Snap! I’m so sorry!’
‘Oh, for gods’ sake, Hat!’ I stood up and tried to kick him off, but he was built like a stove-tank and all I did was hurt my toes on his great bum.
Snap laughed weakly. ‘It’s all right, Trinket.’
‘It is not. We are right by a jove’s face, and must get out of here, must get home and report our mission’s failure.’
There was sudden silence. ‘I don’t care about the mission,’ Hat said softly into Snap’s face, her hand clutched to his chest. ‘As long as you are still with us.’
‘But Motto?’ Snap said to me dazedly.
I shook my head.
She pulled her hand free of Hat’s
and sat up. ‘Oh. Oh. This is serious.’
‘Let her up, Hat. We must pop back.’
Right then a great Magic began to buzz the air all around. Hat screamed and hauled Snap up and away, and I ran after them. We snagged ourselves behind a pillo-hillock.
‘Are the High Ones intervening?’ said Snap.
‘No, it’s coming from the jove,’ said Hat.
Was it? I moved my head around, listening. ‘I think you’re right,’ I said in astonishment. ‘It must be Motto.’
‘Motto?’ said Hat. They stared at me. ‘Didn’t you say he was mashed?’
‘Motto could do that?’ shouted Snap above the increasing noise.
The jove-head began to shimmer, then to crawl all over with light, tiny patterns at first, like dust motes swimming, then growing until the head was like a squirming ball of elvers, blood-red and bruise-purple, shooting flashes of gold. The air thrummed and zithered.
‘What’s he doing?’ Snap screamed in my ear. ‘Isn’t that Love-light?’
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from Motto’s creation.
‘But what will that do to the jove?’
It woke the jove up.
Nawbair’s eyes opened, beaming gold from the lightmess that was his face. He looked straight at us, and even though he did not see us, I was glad I had no waypork in my stomach, for it would have ended up in my green-pants then and there. The whole pillo quaked and we were flung about like lace bobbins on the ends of our snag-strings.
And Nawbair got up. The white-hot Sphere of Influence fell out of his ear, followed by Motto. The air of the giant’s rising sucked them sideways off the pillo. Motto bounced, twice, on the sleeping-plateau. Nawbair stood and took his swirling head away, well away, and sat down at a distant table, and set a jove-light burning there.
Snap unsnagged herself and ran. Hat and I went after her. Motto was scrambling after the bouncing Sphere, trying to catch it in its velvet and avoid the small fires it was starting all along the ground.
‘Motto!’ I cried, stamping on one of them. ‘Dazzling work – most impressive!’
‘It was only to save my skin.’ Finally he trapped the Sphere with the velvet. He sat wrapping and rewrapping it, quenching its heat. ‘I will be in serious trouble for that.’
‘How so?’ Snap jumped spread-legged, squashing two sparks out under separate shoon.
White Time Page 12
