Trickster's Touch

by Zorha Greenhalgh

  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 speedy capitulation, Tree cried, " Fight him, Barl!

  What's wrong with you? What happened to that stuff you were saying earlier? About being firm and all?"

  "Yeah," agreed Timmer. "Don't give in to the creep—"

  Barlimo cleared her throat reprovingly. "Dear ones, in any battle you have to know when to surrender—"

  "Well, how about a hasty retreat, then?" retorted Tree. "Forget surrender!

  He's a Saam pig. This whole thing is political—"

  Gadorian smiled, delighted with the anguish he was causing the Jinnjirri in the room. He continued to sip his tea in silence. Now Janusin spoke.

  "And my commitment to the Great Library?" asked the sculptor. "What becomes of all the work I've promised your wife? The Panthe'kinarok Series?" he added, referring to a series of statues he had agreed to create for the grounds of the Great Library of Speakinghast.

  Barlimo interrupted here. Handing Janusin three pages from the sheaf of papers on the table, she said, "They've canceled the contract."

  "Great. How will I eat?" muttered the artist.

  "You'll manage. You Jinn always do," said Gadorian.

  Janusin swore and left the kitchen. The front door slammed.

  Without warning, Janusin screamed.

  22

  Everyone in the house, including Yafatah and Podiddley, who were still talking upstairs, came running out of the house. The guildguards, who were closest to the front door, were first out. When they reached Janusin's side, they

  sheathed their swords. They saw no danger. Only a man in green and a veiled Tammirring woman in black. Before

  either guard could question Janusin, several of the Kaleidicopians behind them also shrieked. There was dead silence.

  Yafatah, who was last out, was the first to find her tongue. Tearing through all the adults who had stopped cold on the steps, she ran pell-mell toward the two Greatkin and hugged Zendrak fiercely. Then she turned to Kelandris, tears streaming from her eyes, and said, "You brought him back!

  Just like you said you would! You brought him back!"

  Earlier when Kelandris had stated this was her intention—to go to Neath herself and retrieve Zendrak from the underworld—no one had believed her.

  Essentially, very few people trusted Kelandris to do what she said she was going to do. After all, she had spent sixteen years being Crazy Kel in Piedmerri. Why trust a madwoman? Yafatah, however, had believed Kelandris. She had trusted the dark Greatkin with the innocence of her youth. Her love for all the Greatkin had not permitted the child to doubt Kel's word. Feeling victorious in her own soul, Yafatah turned around to face the rest of the group on the steps. Speaking to Barlimo, she said,

  "See? I told you she'd do it! You canna call me daft no more, Barl."

  Barlimo swallowed and said nothing.

  Podiddley smiled; the girl was a true Mayanabi.

  Gadorian scowled at Janusin. "What gives here? You sounded like someone was trying to kill you—"

  Gadorian never finished his statement.

  Suddenly the guildmaster clutched his heart. Wincing, he staggered.

  Pointing at something that hid behind a nearby tree, the guildmaster groaned. "The city," he whispered. "The city. Must protect—"

  Shocked, the two guildguards drew their swords and ran at the thing behind the tree. Akindo, for it was Akindo. stepped free. As the first guard approached, a mouth appeared on the monster's face. Teeth six inches long glistened with saliva.

  "Sweet Presence!" said Rowenaster, horrified.

  Akindo slavered. Then, making a hideous whine that rent the air, Akindo attacked the guard. It tore off his sword arm. Blood spurted into the air as the guildguard howled in agony. Akindo hit the guard with outstretched claws and knocked him into a bloody heap into a drift. Red stained white.

  Then Akindo took a bite out of the man's chest and ate his heart. The man died. The second guildguard blanched with fear. Steppi
ng backward, he turned to run. Before he could do so, Gadorian caught him by the arm and screamed at him to attack Akindo.

  Incredulous, the guard said, "Are you mad? Get out of my way—"

  "I'll fire you—"

  "Do it!" shouted the guard, wresting his arm free of Gadorian's grasp. The guard ran for his life. Most of the residents of the Kaleidicopia backed into the house. Only Po, Zendrak, Kelandris, and Himayat remained outside its protecting walls. Himayat looked to Zendrak for orders. The man in green whistled for Further. Turning to Kelandris, Zendrak said, "Go to Suxonli.

  Take Po and Himayat with you on Further. Wait for my signal. Hennin draws her power from Akindo. I'll distract the draw. Can't kill it."

  "Why not?" asked Po indignantly.

  "This thing is part of the draw of Suxonli. If I kill it, I'll cripple the land of Tammirring itself. The draw is distorted through Hennin's will. Dispatch her, and the draw will return to its original state. It will be a matter of split-second timing. Think you can handle it?" Zendrak added to Himayat.

  "Remember, Hennin's gone renegade. And she's a higher rank than you.

  She's had years of training in psychic arts. She's a native Tammi." Himayat nodded, his expression grim.

  As Zendrak finished speaking, Further came thundering into view.

  Saambolin pedestrians gaped and shrieked. A small crowd had gathered across the street from the felled guildguard. With Further's approach, the gawkers dispersed in all directions. Kelandris swung to the back of the enormous mare. Zendrak gave Po and Himayat a leg up. There was barely enough room for all three of them. Turning her head to the two men sitting behind her, Kelandris said, "Hang on. This will be cold."

  "Cold?" asked Po.

  He never received an explanation. In seconds, the mare from Neath plunged them into the Everywhen of the Presence. They rode the lines of coincidence. They would reach Suxonli in minutes.

  Only Zendrak faced Akindo now. The perverted draw from Suxonli licked its bloody mouth. Its eyes glimmered with a slow, patient intelligence. It was, after all, made of the earth. It could wait until Zendrak made a move. The two faced each other in a terrible silence.

  Without warning, Zendrak made a cry like a Mythrrim. It shook the street.

  Snow toppled off roofs. Horses panicked and ran. Zendrak made the cry again. Akindo remained motionless, its face unreadable. Zendrak opened his arms and waved them slowly like a large bird. Then without warning, he began to shape-shift. Born in Soaringsea, Zendrak had inherited the natural ability of throwing off versions of himself much the same way that the volcanic islands of his native archipelago threw off ash and lava.

  Zendrak's clothes began to rip. Wings pushed through his skin. Blue-black feathers appeared sleek and silky on his torso. In moments, Zendrak had exchanged his two-legged form for that of a four-legged Mythrrim Beast. He lifted his ugly head and cackled hyena fashion at the snow.

  Akindo hesitated. Feeling the monster's consternation on the other end of the psychic line, Elder Hennin looked through Akindo's eyes. Then, hundreds of miles from Speakinghast, Elder Hennin let out a ferocious curse. Long ago when the Mythrrim had still walked the earth, these beasts had tamed all the landdraws of Mnemlith. In fact, the Mythrrim were the ones who had wakened the land from slumber into a keen intelligence. Hennin knew she had to act quickly. In this form, Zendrak would be able to command Akindo.

  Sending the monster her thoughts, she said, "Kill the Mythrrim Beast. Eat his heart out, Akindo. He cannot live without his heart."

  Hennin broke her connection to Akindo, returning Akindo's eyes to Akindo for the moment while she put her full focus on weakening Zendrak's clarity of mind and will to live.

  Of course, Hennin didn't know Zendrak was past dying.

  23

  Further slowed to a walk just outside the village limits of Suxonli.

  Podiddley, who had been seated last on the dark horse from Neath, sat in a hunched position, his face buried in Himayat's back, his fingers in a stranglehold around Himayat's waist. The little thief also had his eyes closed.

  "Uh—Po?" said Himayat gently. "You can get off now."

  Po opened his eyes with a start. Seeing that he was again in the "real"

  world, he let out a tremendous sigh of relief. "Shit. I mean, shit!"

  Himayat and Kelandris both started laughing. Finally the tall Greatkin said,

  "Yes, I felt that way, too, the first time I entered the Everywhen. Very scary. And like I said, cold."

  "Scary?" exploded Po. "Scary doesn't come close. There was nothing under us, nothing above us, and nothing but wavy colored things streaming at my face. Cold? It was like a lake in winter. Dark and full of unseen ghoulies.

  Shit. I'm walking back."

  Kelandris shrugged. "Assuming we survive Hennin..."

  Himayat nodded. "There is that."

  Kelandris regarded the Mayanabi elder quietly. "Hennin probably knows we're here—unless Zendrak has managed to truly distract her. Anyway, I think we need a plan. I have a lot of power at my disposal, but I have no training. You have training, Himayat."

  Himayat nodded. "We'll have to kill Hennin. I see no alternative."

  Po nodded. "Me either.

  Kelandris bit her lower lip. "It would give me pleasure to do so."

  Himayat grunted. "That's not such a good thing. This pleasure."

  Po stared at Himayat and then at Kelandris. "Who cares about the ethics involved? The woman will certainly take pleasure in killing all three of us—"

  Himayat cut him off. "These things have to be done right, Po. If they aren't, Hennin can survive death."

  Po snorted. "She's as mortal as me—"

  "Yes, but she has a lot of psychic power. She can create an accommodation for herself without a physical body. From this, she can continue to influence the affairs of the world. She can also possess weak-willed people. It's a fairly simple matter to do any of these things when you reach the level of mastery that Hennin has."

  Kelandris narrowed her eyes. "Does she already have a nonphysical accommodation, Himayat? Has she already constructed it?"

  Himayat shrugged. "Such construction can be created at the moment of death—especially then. At death, the will to live is particularly strong. All the emotions that would tie one to the world are suddenly unleashed. It's a powerful moment. If she sees that Zendrak is winning with Akindo, Hennin will very likely allow us to kill her. We'll think our problems are over."

  "But they'll be just beginning," said Po.

  "Right."

  There was a short silence.

  "Shit," said Po.

  "Exactly," replied Himayat.

  Kelandris said nothing. Zendrak's insistence that she not go after Hennin alone suddenly made sense to her. She was grateful he had intervened. She smiled slightly. So Zendrak wasn't so spineless, after all. He had simply been biding his time until now. Kelandris reached out to Zendrak in her heart, thanking him. She felt an answering tug on the other end—a gentle acknowledgment of her realization. Kelandris took a deep breath and returned to the conversation with the two Mayanabi. Po was speaking.

  "The poison in my akatikki is lethal in seconds, Himayat. I don't see why we can't use it. You have something better?"

  "We can't be sure it would kill her—"

  "I'm telling you, it's lethal—"

  Himayat shook his head. "She's immune to some kinds of poison. She handles and trains the holovespa, Po. Think about it. She's been stung and survived it. You can bet on it."

  There was a short silence.

  "Okay," agreed Po. "So what's your plan, then?" he asked Himayat. "I assume you have one."

  Himayat shook his head. "I'm still thinking about it."

  Po swore. "Look. We ain't got time for a conference here. We gotta kill this Suxonli maniac before she kills us!"

  Himayat glared at Po. "Patience."

  Po threw up his hands and walked away. He stopped a few feet away, his hands clasped at his back. Himayat a
nd Kelandris could hear him cursing under his breath. Kelandris took the opportunity to speak to Himayat more privately.

  "Hennin draws power from the land itself. I can turn it on her. We'd have to do it at Revel Rock. That means we'd have to get there without being stopped. What are our chances?"

  "Depends on Zendrak, I should think."

  Kelandris again joined her consciousness with Zendrak. We have a plan, she told him. You have to help me reverse the draw. Kelandris received no answer. Zendrak?

  Zendrak lifted into the air, his blue-black Mythrrim wings catching snow as it fell softly in Speakinghast. Akindo craned its head, watching Zendrak carefully, his eyes again belonging to Elder Hennin. Fortunately for Kelandris, Po, and Himayat, Hennin's complete attention was on Zendrak.

  When Kelandris got no response from Zendrak, she and the two men started toward Revel Rock, the site of her defeat so many years ago.

  Zendrak was aware of her decision and lauded it in his heart. At the moment, however, he knew that the safety of Kelandris and the Mayanabi men depended on his ability to confound Hennin. He did not want Hennin to become aware of the three people breaching her psychic fortress. He did not want her to feel him reaching out to Kelandris and therefore telegraphing her whereabouts to Hennin. Let Hennin think she could affect him with her will. This would be a first-rate distraction. Zendrak smiled, his large Mythrrim mouth pulling tight over his enormous teeth. He began to cackle hyena fashion. The sound echoed weirdly in the streets and alleys of Speakinghast. Passersby looked at the sky and widened their eyes.

  No one had seen a Mythrrim for several thousand years.

  Zendrak beat the air with his wings, as he did so, he said:

  "In the name of the Presence, we begin.

  In the ancient of days when the world was new

  The Firstborn race spoke the spell of Once Upon.

  The words fell teasingly from our tongues

  And what had been real became more than real:

  It became True.

  "I am a Firstborn,

  I speak the spell.

  I call the truth: