Now Orb could relax. The storm had become self-sufficient, drawing in its own air and water and ionized particles. It would continue until it dropped some of its water on the parched ground.
Betsy and the organist were staring at the thickening storm. What Orb had done at the start had been invisible to ordinary senses, but now there was no doubting the effect. A phenomenal deluge was in the making.
Soon the rain came. Quickly Orb put away her harp. The three of them stood there, getting soaked.
Betsy, her clothing plastered to her body, was nevertheless radiant. "I think our farm is saved," she said and turned to embrace the organist.
So it was that the last of the Sludge got his woman. But Orb realized that she had stepped into a new dimension of potential. She had used her music and the power of a fragment of the Llano to influence the course of nature itself. She realized that this was just the beginning. If a poorly grasped fragment could do this, what could the fall melody do? Suddenly her reasons for pursuing this song seemed trivial; she might as well have gone naked into the jungle to pursue a tiger.
Chapter 10 - NATASHA
The Sludge continued to tour, and Orb continued to explore the powers of the melodies that had come to her. They rehearsed while traveling in Jonah and discussed her discoveries, for they were all interested. They knew that, if she mastered the Llano, she could do for them permanently what she had done temporarily—abate their addictions to H, abate the curse on Jezebel so that she could be faithful to the one man she cared for, and bring regular rain to Betsy's farm.
In fact, if she mastered the Llano, she could abolish all addiction and compulsion and vagaries of weather, immensely improving the world wherever she went. They could continue their tour, but in addition to bringing music to the masses, they could bring all manner of other good things. They were dedicated, now, to this aspiration. They realized that only Orb had the capacity to find the Llano, but that her success would benefit them all in both selfish and unselfish ways. They had sought personal gains, but had found a higher mission.
Orb tried to perfect the powers of the music, but all she had were fragments. She could keep the boys free of H while she was with them, but not when apart from them, unless they were in Jonah. She could keep the intolerable lust of night from Jezebel on a similar basis. There had been a mix-up once, and the succubus had gotten separated from Orb's vicinity for an hour. Jezebel had barely made it to the guitarist in time, abating that hour with such dispatch that there could be no doubt of her demonic drive. He never complained about the episode, but agreed emphatically that they should never allow such an accident to happen again.
There was better success on the matter of traveling. Orb practiced and in due course was able to make her way to any spot of the globe in seconds, by expanding to world size and contracting swiftly at the new site. The travel was silent, almost unnoticeable to others; she simply faded gradually from view and reappeared when she returned. She visited Luna, who seemed only moderately surprised, and even her old home in Ireland, but her mother had disappeared. That brought her quickly back to Luna; what had happened?
"She has found another occupation," Luna said. "Don't worry; she's satisfied."
"And didn't tell me?" Orb demanded. "Didn't even bid farewell?"
"She felt it better to leave you out of it," Luna said.
Orb's temper frayed. "She told you and not her daughter?"
"She meant to tell you herself, at the proper time." But Luna saw the way Orb was reacting and relented. "I suppose it won't hurt if I tell you. Do you remember how she used to be an aspect of Fate, before she fell in love with Pace?"
"Well, that was a bit before my time—" Orb stiffened. "You mean—?"
"She went back. She's Fate again."
"But she couldn't—I mean, Clotho is young and—"
"As Lachesis."
"The middle Aspect!" Orb exclaimed. "But why?"
Luna shrugged. "If you had a chance to be an Incarnation, wouldn't you take it? Especially if you'd had a few decades' experience in a similar role? Her Earthly life was over."
Orb cooled as abruptly as she heated. "Yes, I suppose it was. I'm glad for her. I will be seeing her again?"
"Yes. At the proper time. I gather that a certain party has been as active as ever, so she's been really hopping to keep down the mischief. She doesn't want his attention to focus on you—you know why—so she's been staying clear for now."
Now Orb understood. That prophecy! That she might marry Evil! Naturally her mother wanted to avoid that if at all possible. So she was staying away from Orb, hoping that Satan would never think of her. It made sense.
They agreed not to discuss the matter further, because even the mention of Satan's name could attract his attention and bring him visiting. Orb departed, expanding and contracting back to Jonah. She had much to think about!
She also visited Tinka, the blind Gypsy girl in the Basque country. Tinka could not see Orb's form, but was aware of her in a moment. "Orb!" she exclaimed gladly.
They hugged. "I thought of you and thought I'd drop in," Orb explained in Calo, and that seemed sufficient. "How are you doing?"
"I did as you asked," Tinka said quickly. "I gave Orlene and the ring to a nice American tourist couple. I know they are taking good care of her."
"I'm sure they are," Orb agreed, feeling a pang for her lost baby girl.
"If only I could have my own..."
Orb pondered. She had abated addiction and passion in others; could she—? "One moment," she said.
She expanded back to Jonah, picked up her harp, and expanded back to France. "Let me sing for you," she said, setting up the harp. "I can't promise, but there is a chance perhaps a small, foolish one—that—"
"That I could have my own?" Tinka asked, catching on immediately.
"If this works," Orb agreed.
Then she played and sang, seeking another fragment of the Llano. Need seemed to enhance her chances, and she saw this as legitimate need. Tinka deserved her own.
She sensed an aspect of the melody, tuned it in, overtook it, caught it, and made it her own. She sang it, serenading her blind friend, and the music permeated Tinka's body, working its subtle magic.
"Oh! I feel it!" the Gypsy exclaimed.
Orb concluded her song. "Of course it can't be certain," she warned. "Your husband has his part to do—"
"He'll do it! He'll do it!" Tinka exclaimed. "If I have to dance the tanana on his belly, he'll do it!"
Orb smiled. Tinka was an attractive woman, and the Gypsies were lusty folk. She would probably come on like a succubus, with equal success.
They talked, embraced, and parted. "But I will visit you again, often," Orb promised. "I have ready means of transport, now."
But the most challenging aspect of her approach to the Llano was the storm. She had generated a spot thunderstorm; periodically she duplicated that, expanding to Betsy's farm and causing more rain there. But the power she drew on was far more massive and complex, and she knew that she grasped only a tiny part of it. The melody of the fragment of the Llano gave her the ability to manipulate the fundamental processes of the Elements, but it was like riding a dragon—could she really control it?
She learned. Bit by bit, with many errors, she increased her command of the weather, until she was able to generate a broad, gentle rain or a tight, small storm. But those errors could be critical; once she let one get away from her, and a tornado formed and ravaged a farmstead. She was lucky no one was seriously hurt. When she traveled, she affected only herself, harmlessly; when she focused on a person, she affected only that person. Her ability to protect the boys from their hunger for H was growing; similarly, Jezebel was able to range farther from Orb's immediate vicinity, and Tinka did indeed get pregnant after enticing her husband to appropriate labors. But the weather could kill, and that risk haunted her. She had to understand it better—and to do that, she had to continue experimenting, though this entailed increasing risk.
In due course, the tour brought them again to the Llano region of the country. Here was where she had her first true encounter with the magic song, she believed in retrospect. Thereafter she had been able to do things through her music that had been impossible before, to become a sorceress of sorts. She had dreamed of finding the Llano, as if it were a simple tune she could hear and understand at one sitting; now she knew that it was phenomenally more complex than that. Even if the whole of it were spread out before her at once, she would not be able to assimilate more than a tiny bit of it. She had to master it bit by bit; there was no easy way.
Jonah settled to the plain, and Orb stepped out on it, as she had the year before. She walked alone, seeking a greater understanding. Her quest for the Llano had not eased as she approached it; it had intensified, until now the tour and the shows they gave were of peripheral interest to her. She craved the Llano in much the manner she might have craved a lover; indeed her interest in men had not been great after she lost Mym, while the magic song promised things she could hardly imagine.
She walked, carrying her harp and opening her awareness to whatever offered. In this manner she had found that first vital suggestion of the magic; could she find more?
A spider appeared, dangling from an invisible thread. Orb paused, admiring it. The spider expanded, becoming fist sized, then soccer-ball-sized, and finally medicine-ball sized. It changed its form, two legs extending and thickening to reach the ground, two more becoming human arms, and the rest shrinking until they disappeared. In a moment the spider had become a human being, a middle-aged woman.
"Mother!" Orb cried, abruptly recognizing her.
The two hugged. "I thought it time to visit you," Niobe said.
"Luna said you had become Lachesis!" Orb said. "That you would come to me when the time was appropriate."
"True. Matters have been complex, but now we must talk."
"I never expected to see you here now," Orb said. "I was—did Luna tell you of my quest for the Llano?"
"She did, dear," Niobe said. "And your quest is good. But there are pitfalls along the way—"
"So I have found!" Orb agreed. "An imperfect mastery is dangerous! This song—it enables me to change the weather, to travel—"
"Yes, of course. The Llano is the most potent theme of this realm. But I was thinking of one particular danger that you may not have anticipated. Do you remember the prophecy?"
"How could I forget it! That Luna might marry Death, and I might marry Evil. When I saw Luna associating with Thanatos—"
"Exactly, dear. I had a concern about that, but I discovered that Thanatos is a good man, firmly on the side of good and, I think, worthy of my granddaughter. But the same can not be said for Satan—and it seems it is Satan whom you are destined to encounter."
"I would never associate with Satan, let alone marry him!" Orb exclaimed.
"But he is the master of deception and treachery," Niobe said worriedly. "Remember when I took you and Luna to the Hall of the Mountain King, and a demon almost got us wiped out?"
"I remember," Orb agreed. "If you had not been with us—"
"I can't always be with you now," Niobe said. "In fact, the requirements of my present office are such that I can seldom be with you at all. Important matters must soon claim my attention again; I have only a few minutes now to give you warning."
"Warning of what?"
"Satan has set a trap for you. He means to complete the prophecy and marry you, regardless of your will."
"But he can hardly marry me against my will!" Orb protested.
"My dear, you underestimate the power of the Llano. You have employed it to change the nature of others, nullifying compulsions they can not overcome themselves. The Llano has similar power over you, if used against you—and he means to use it. He will stun your will, so that you must acquiesce to the marriage and be his love-slave. This is the trap."
"I don't believe it!" Orb exclaimed. "I would never—"
Niobe cut her off with a sad headshake. "You always were headstrong, Orb! Don't let it lead you into this disastrous mischief! Accept my warning, so that you may escape the trap."
Orb stifled her outrage. "How can I escape it?"
"I wish I knew. But I know who does know. I must go now, but I will send Gaea to you. Listen to her, Orb!"
Then Niobe metamorphosed back to the huge spider, shrank, climbed up her thread, and disappeared.
Orb walked on, troubled. Could Satan really enslave her by using an aspect of the Llano against her? She had indeed seen its power over others; why should she be immune? Her mother would not mislead her; she had to play it safe and learn how to nullify this trap before she fell into it.
A mist formed before her. It coalesced into human form, becoming a stately woman. "I am Gaea," the woman said.
So Niobe had sent the Incarnation of Nature, as promised! Orb had never met a female Incarnation before and now suddenly was meeting two, one of them her own mother!
"Mother said—"
"That I would tell you how to deal with Satan's ploy," Gaea finished. "I shall indeed! None of us can afford to have Satan complete the prophecy. If he means to use the Llano on you—and if Lachesis believes that is so, it must be so! your only recourse is to nullify it with another aspect of the Llano. Every function of the Llano has its counter, if you can but find it."
"You don't know the counter?" Orb asked, worried.
"Child, I know it, but I am uncertain how much it will help you. I will do what I can, but there is risk."
"Risk in avoiding the trap?"
"The Llano is no children's plaything, girl! When you invoke it, you are starting a fire that can do much damage, if mismanaged. Satan can not be harmed by it; he is already damned. But you—" She shook her head.
"But if I do not invoke it, I became a slave to Satan!" Orb protested. "What could be worse than that?"
"Madness," Gaea said succinctly. "Satan would use you and forget you in due course; you might not even be damned, if you never submitted in your heart. Once the prophecy was fulfilled, he would have little further concern for you. But if you try the counter and fail, there would be no end to the madness."
"Are you suggesting that I should—should submit?" Orb asked, appalled.
"Of course not! But you must be aware of the risk entailed in the tool you use. Only then can you make the proper decision."
Orb thought of being made subject to Satan's will, a love slave. "I'll take the risk! How can I escape?"
"He will sing the will-null aspect of the Llano. It is the only aspect of it he has mastered; such magic does not come easily to him, for he is the Prince of Lies, with no true power. You must counter it with the will-null-null aspect. I can teach you part of this."
"Part of it?"
"It is a duet. Satan, being supernatural, can sing both parts together; you, being natural, can not. I can teach you one part; the other must come from another."
"Someone else knows the Llano?" Orb asked, interested on another level. "Who?"
"His name is Natasha. He—"
"He? Isn't that a female name?"
"Evidently not. Natasha may be the finest mortal singer, if it is not yourself. If he joins you and sings the complementary theme, then you can escape Satan's trap. But if he does not—the single theme, unsupported, will destroy your mind."
Orb did not like the sound of that. "How do I know he will sing the duet? Or that he is even near?"
"He need not be near; he can use the Llano to travel, as you do. He will hear you sing. But as to whether he will join you—that no one can say. He may, if he chooses. But he may not."
"Is there no other to fill that role?" Orb asked despairingly.
"Few can sing any part of the Llano," Gaea said gravely. "Fewer can sing it well. Only Natasha can sing it well enough to counter Satan's rendition."
"This Natasha—what kind of man is he?"
"The best of men," Gaea said. "But he has been questing for the Llano
so long and finding aspects of it, that he may not take your recitation seriously. He might take it to be a trap of Satan's—a trap for him. Satan has tried that sort of thing before."
"I think I'll just avoid the whole issue," Orb said, turning abruptly about.
"You can not, child. Satan was not truly aware of you before, but now he is. He will seek you wherever you go and spring his trap there. It is better to tackle it at a time of your choosing than at a time of his."
"I can choose the time?"
"You can, now—by moving it up. Satan seems to be not quite ready. But soon, in days or perhaps hours, he will be."
"How can I choose it?"
"By starting to sing and play the Llano. He will fear that you are mastering the counter theme and be prompted to act immediately."
Orb sighed. "Teach me that theme, then."
"I can not sing it," Gaea said. "But I can write the music." She raised her left hand, and a parchment appeared in it; her right hand now held a quill pen. She wrote the music, swiftly, with sureness and elegance, and handed the parchment to Orb.
Orb took it. Then Gaea faded. Orb was alone.
She looked at the music. It was clear enough, an unusual melody, but singable. There were pauses written into it to accommodate the companion voice. She was sure it would be beautiful when properly done, but she saw no particular magic in it.
She brought out her harp, settled down on the ground, and propped the music against a tree before her. It would take her only a short time to memorize this; the parts of the melody seemed to follow naturally from each other, so that there was no problem here. She began to play it, but did not sing, heeding Gaea's warning.
The song took her, its magic manifesting. There was indeed power here; the theme shook her to the core. If she were to sing it. The scene changed. Instead of the bare plain, there was now a kind of church, except that, instead of religious symbols, there were demonic ones; and instead of comforting or esthetic stained-glass scenes, there were depictions of torture and misery.
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