Tricksters Touch

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Tricksters Touch Page 7

by Zohra Greenhalgh


  forgive him for this. Nor had she ever been able to bring herself to question him about his disappearance that night. She feared he would tell her that he was on Rimble's business. Kelandris could not bear the possibility that Trickster's business might be more important than her sanity—or life. Standing in the shower with him so close now, she felt she must now ask. Clearly he wanted to make love with her. This was an impossibility as long as she felt he had betrayed her. Kelandris raised her head. Without introduction, she asked, «Why did you leave?» Understanding the question without need of amplification, Zendrak said, «I left because I was overwhelmed with my own feelings for you. The smell of your blood that night acted wildly on my senses—it was a Tricksterish thing. And a Mythrrim thing. Until that time, I had not known there was

  anyone like me in all the world. I thought I was alone.» He paused, his face

  contorting with the pain of that statement. «Can you imagine what it is like to walk the world for five hundred years with no hope of ever meeting anyone who would understand what I am? And then there you were—so beautiful, so trusting, so willing to love me. I was taken unawares, Kel. And it hit me very hard. I know this cannot make sense to you now. But I was used to my loneliness, in one night, you changed all of that forever.» He paused, stroking her wet hair with his long fingers. «Rimble-Rimble on me,» he said quietly. «Then why did you come back at all?» she asked bitterly. Zendrak took a deep breath. «I heard your scream, Kel. Overneath time, on the back of Further, I heard your scream. It shocked me. I fell off my mare—between time and space. If Further hadn't gone after me, I would've been lost in a backwash of time. I ride the lines of coincidence. It is a

  dangerous business. When I reached you, I was ill myself. It was all I could do to take you across the border into Piedmerri.» There was a long silence between them. Kelandris turned away from Zendrak, her face to the wall of the steaming shower, her arms over her belly, her fists clenched. Zendrak moved closer to her but did not touch her. «Talk to me,» he whispered fiercely. «I—I can't,» she said, her face twisting in agony. Zendrak swore, looking at the floor of the shower. Hot water swirled over

  his toes. He raised his head, his expression wild. «Speak to me, Kel. You've kept these things in your heart for seventeen years, my beloved. They have rotted there and made you mad. For Presence sake, speak. Free us both from Suxonli.» Kelandris leaned back against the shower wall, her chin lifted, her eyes closed. She took a ragged breath and said, «I was pregnant.»

  «I know that,» replied Zendrak fiercely. «You lost the child during the Ritual of Akindo. The holovespa dose they gave you changed your genes. The draw knew this. So the child was given to Fasilla by the draw. She had been raped by Cobeth only an hour or so before the Ritual—conception hadn't taken place. And wouldn't have if the blasted draw hadn't intervened. For that I cursed it. I would've rather had a monster than give that child—born of our love—to someone else.» Kelandris swallowed. «What noble sentiments. That's a very pretty picture, Zendrak.» Zendrak snorted. «I'd hardly call it that, Kelandris.» «A very pretty picture that you've been telling yourself for years.» Zendrak stiffened. «I beg your pardon?» Kelandris regarded him coolly. «You've been lying to yourself—» Zendrak stared at Kelandris. «I never lie—» «Yes, you do,» she countered, her voice hard. «I am a Mythrrim now. Thanks to you—and I do thank you for it—I am a Mythrrim who can remember

  telling The Turn of Trickster's Daughter in the Great Library Maze last fall.» There was a short silence. «So?» said Zendrak impatiently, his dark eyes hooded. «So I know what happened. Let me quote you the lines: «Touching her battered body with a lover's care The King lifted the Queen to the back of his mare, Riding in silence, they left Tammirring. Now Zendrak crossed the border shift and wilds, Listening to the Queen's frantic whimpering— He realized she would lose their unborn child.» Zendrak's face contorted with fury. «You think I'm a murderer? I'm telling you, the draw intervened! You think I would willingly take you across the draw border and cause you to abort our own child?»

  Kelandris laughed raggedly. «I think that's exactly what you did. It's funny I never saw it before so clearly. Being branded as a murderer myself, I guess I never thought to accuse you of the same crime. I suppose I needed you to be stainless. It made my own degradation bearable.» Zendrak said nothing. After a few moments, he said, «I'm getting out.» «Out of the shower? Or out of the conversation?» said Kelandris icily. Then she added, «Some Greatkin you are. We're supposed to be exemplars of truth, you know. Makes the two-leggeds nervous when we aren't.» Zendrak glared at her and climbed out of the shower. Kelandris sat down in the shower and began to weep quietly, the water beating on her face and knees and drowning out her sobs. Being a Greatkin, Zendrak felt her pain and was brought up short by it. Swearing, he took off the yellow towel he had just wrapped around his torso and climbed back in the shower with Kelandris. He put his arms around her. She reached for him soundlessly. After a few minutes, Zendrak pulled back and said, «I had no idea you claiming your Mythrrim inheritance would trigger a memory like this one. I thought the Ritual of Akindo had wiped it from your mind. You see, I didn't want you to know, Kelandris. About taking you across the draw. I didn't think you would be able to forgive me.» Kelandris raised her face, her expression exhausted. «I'm not sure I ever shall,» she said simply. Zendrak groaned. «How am I to live with that?» «How am I to live with what you did?» Zendrak ran his fingers through his wet, black hair slowly. «There was a reason for that abortion, Kelandris.» «Right. Rimble made you do it, I suppose?» Zendrak swallowed. He disengaged himself from Kelandris fully. «No. Rimble didn't make me do it. But he pointed out what would happen if I didn't do it.» «And what exactly was that?» asked Kelandris, her voice cruel. Zendrak put his head in his hands. «When I saw what Hennin had done to you—what the whole village had done to you—I cursed the draw—» «I know that!» interrupted Kelandris impatiently. «Shut up and listen!» he yelled at her, his expression furious. There was a terrible silence between them. Zendrak swallowed and continued. «I thought I was cursing the draw out of my own sense of outrage at the barbarism and brutality of the Ritual of Akindo. That was only partially true.» He paused. «Now, listen carefully, Kelandris. I cursed the draw because Elder Hennin directed me to do so.» Kel's eyes widened. She felt as though she might start screaming and never stop. All she said, however, was, «You did what Hennin told you to do? You killed our baby because that bitch told you to?» Kelandris started weeping wildly. She crawled away from Zendrak, her back pressed against the wall. «How could you?» she whispered. «How could you?»

  Zendrak's face looked drained of life. Speaking hoarsely, he replied, «I was Hennin's teacher. Her Mayanabi teacher, Kelandris. She left me twenty years before she put you through the Ritual of Akindo. During that time, she gained in power and mastery. I had no idea she had become that powerful. She had always been a quick study. Extraordinary, really. And terribly ambitious.» He paused. Then Zendrak said, «You see, Hennin knew I was a Greatkin. She figured it out after she left me. She suspected—when you didn't die after the Ritual of Akindo—that you were one, too. She was—and is—a very good psychic, Kelandris. She knew you were pregnant with Yafatah. She knew that child—born of two full-blooded Greatkin—would be a spiritual giant. One that would rival her. So she wanted that possibility killed. That future destroyed. The cursing of an entire draw was a small price to pay in Hennin's mind. So I cursed it. And mutated it. Think, Kel. Think what this means. A mutant Greatkin? Born out of my rage and your despair? Such a child would be a monster. Rimble begged me to put a stop to your pregnancy. So did Themyth. Thus the incoming soul—which had a right to live—was given to Fasilla.» «But Fasilla was on Tammi soil, same as me!» cried Kelandris. «She drew from Tammirring, same as me. That's the law. Where you conceive determines the draw. Her child would be a mutant, too, and Yafatah is not!» «But Fasilla was not on Tammi soil! She had wandered far from the revel site. So had Cobeth. They were bo
th on drugs. They had no idea where they were. Well, they were in the Feyborne mountains, in the border between Tammirring and Piedmerri. You know how borders are. Anything can happen in the borders. Well, anything did. When I took you across the Piedmerri border, Piedmerri took pity on us. Piedmerri landdraw protects children. So

  it did just that. It took our child from you and gave it to Fasilla, who had not yet conceived. The draw of Piedmerri allowed Yafatah to keep her Tammi bearings but protected her against my stupidity. My curse. Piedmerri protected Ya all the way through the pregnancy. It was a miracle, really. A

  bit of grace that I certainly didn't deserve. In short, the draw of Piedmerri took the brunt of my curse—and turned it away from Yafatah. Yafatah, true

  to Trickster's influence, is the impossible possibility. She is a cross between two draws. She has the warmth and sociability of a Pied and the body of a Tammi.» «Why didn't you tell me?» Kelandris said accusingly. «Why didn't you confess what you had done before now?» «Partly pride. And partly to protect you.» «Pride?» Zendrak glared at Kelandris. «How do you think I felt—feel—knowing that Elder Hennin had gotten inside my brain—me, a Greatkin—and given me orders that I followed out! Orders that nearly scuttled everything Rimble had been working toward for at least five centuries? Well, I will tell you how I felt. Like an idiot. And an unwitting traitor. On top of everything else—losing you and the baby—knowing that I had been duped by Hennin scarred my mind. As she no doubt hoped it would.» He paused. «Since I'm

  speaking my heart with you right now, I might as well say this, too: I didn't tell you why I took you into Piedmerri because I thought you'd lose confidence in me—» «I have!» «That you might never regain—» «I won't!» «Since Hennin directed me to curse the draw in the first place,» he mumbled, his voice trailing off painfully. Zendrak took a deep breath. «Like you said, I'm not much of a Greatkin, am I?»

  «You certainly aren't!» cried Kelandris, getting to her feet. She climbed out of the shower. Without another word to Zendrak, she hurriedly dried herself and pulled on her bathrobe. She opened the door to the bathroom and left. The door slammed after her. Zendrak did not follow. He was too devastated by her reaction to be able to do anything else except sit in the hot shower

  and try to keep from putting his fist through the wall. A few minutes later, someone banged loudly on the door. It was Janusin. «I don't know what you two Greatkin were doing in there—fighting or fucking—but whatever it is, knock it off!» Zendrak rolled his eyes and stepped out of the shower. Janusin lived on the third floor in a room to the right of Zendrak and Kel's. He was a man of forty years and much accomplishment; he was one of Speakinghast's only working Jinnjirri sculptors. Although Janusin was normally a polite soul—as Jinn went—at three-thirty in the morning he was apt to be blunt of speech. «Hello in there? Did you hear me, Zendrak?» Swearing, Zendrak yelled through the closed door, «What's the problem?» «You and Kelandris have started a fire out here in the hallway. It's the second—nope—Barlimo says it's the third fire this week. She also says she would appreciate it greatly if you would not burn the house down. She spent a lot of long hours building and designing the 'K'—according to your requirements.» «Is the fire out?» «Yes,» cried a chorus of voices. *8* By the time Zendrak got dried off and dressed enough to come out of the bathroom, a small crowd of annoyed Kaleidicopians had gathered in the

  third-floor hallway. Present were the three Jinnjirri: Janusin, Barlimo, and Tree. These three shared the top floor of the «K» with the two Greatkin. It had been decided at a house meeting some months ago that only the Jinnjirri-born would be able to deal with the intensity of emotion that Zendrak and Kelandris generated between them. Tree, who was the last of the three to join the group, yawned and rubbed his eyes groggily. His autumn-colored bathrobe rustled as he shuffled toward Janusin and Barlimo. Tree was not a tree; however, he was a talented makeup artist who very much resembled a two-legged tree—complete with twiggy fingers and skin the texture of redwood bark. He was twenty-two, marginally employed, and generally good-natured. Sniffing the smoky air, he inquired, «Are we on fire again?» Janusin pointed to a charred pile of empty boxes stacked in the hall. Barlimo, the Jinnjirri who had designed and built the Kaleidicopia, added, «Like Jan said, that makes the third time this week. You and Kelandris better make up or make love before you burn us down. Understood?» Zendrak nodded, too sad about what had passed between himself and Kelandris to say anything conversational. Barlimo waved smoke out of her face. «Good. Now that we've got that settled, anybody want cocoa? I'm sure the kitchen embers are still hot from dinner.» Even Janusin's mood brightened at this thought. «I was freezing in my room,» he admitted, nodding. «This fall is so cold compared to last year's. Especially now that Cobeth's gone,» he added lamely, knowing that none of his housemates, particularly Kelandris, missed Cobeth in the least. The

  sculptor sighed. It was hard being a minority of one. Despite all of Cobeth's

  misdeeds and infidelities, Janusin still kept a tender place in his heart for Cobeth. They had been lovers for five years. «Give it a rest, will you?» said Tree sourly. «Cobeth was a dangerous man, and you know it, Janusin. And what's more, he didn't love you. I doubt he ever did—» «Tree! Janusin!» snapped Barlimo. «Both of you stop it. It's three in the morning and no time for disputes.»

  Changing his mood instantly with true Jinnjirri speed, his hair turning from red to green, Tree put his hands in front of him and pretended to be sleep-walking. «Cocoa,» he moaned. «Cooocoa.» Zendrak and Barlimo laughed. Janusin ignored Tree's antics, but said nothing more about Cobeth. Everyone trouped downstairs. When they reached the first-floor landing, they were met with the scent of cocoa already simmering. It seemed that Podiddley had just put a pot of milk and chocolate on the fire. Seeing the third-floor group enter the kitchen, Po glowered at the Jinnjirri and their changeable hair, saying, «Now the party will be spoiled. Look at Barlimo's hair. Already a disapproving red. And—yes—there goes Janusin's. Well, Tree? Are you turning red, too? No? Just garbage green?» Tree ignored Po's jibes. «All we need now are Timmer and Rowen, and we'll have most of the whole house up at this silly hour.» «Preposterous hour would describe it better, Tree,» said seventy-year-old Professor Rowenaster as he walked slowly into the kitchen, a scarlet kerchief on his head matched by a flannel nightgown of the same flaming color. Zendrak winced. «You hurt my eyes, Rowen.» Rowenaster pursed his lips and inclined his head toward Janusin and Barlimo, whose hair echoed the professor's attire. «What's everybody so red about? Looks to me like Po's put on a nice pot of cocoa. We should be grateful for his thoughtfulness.» Po snorted. «I didn't put it on for any of you!» «Exactly,» said Barlimo. «And those are the only hot embers in the house. So we'll have to wait, I expect, for Po to clear out.» «Nonsense,» remarked Zendrak. «Po will share.» Po scowled at his spiritual master. «It's three in the friggin' morning and you're going to turn this into a teaching situation? Give me a break, Zendrak. Give me a break.» Zendrak remained obdurate. «Po will share.»

  Po rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and left the kitchen. They heard the door to his first-floor room slam shut. Zendrak shrugged. «He'll be back.» Everyone in the room knew Zendrak was right. Although Po's temper exploded more often than anyone else's at the Kaleidicopia, his foul humors blew over equally fast. Barlimo stirred the cocoa and muttered, «I wonder if Po washed this pot before he used it?» «Better wonder if he washed his hands,» retorted Janusin.

  At the Kaleidicopia, as Yafatah had pointed out in her ietter to her mother, Po's housekeeping habits were often the irate topic of the monthly house

  meeting that all Kaleidicopians were obliged to attend. If you didn't attend, you moved out. Very simple. Barlimo often said the Kaleidicopia was not a democracy. It operated more like a federation of landdraws. Everyone had a vote, but Barlimo could ask you to leave. Or stay. Since Barlimo was an eminently fair person, this system functioned quite well. Zendrak's

  presence i
n the house, however, had thrown a little confusion into the lines of command recently. Unknown to the rest of the members of the Kaleidicopia until the last year, Barlimo did not own the boarding house. She had designed and built it, yes, but she had done so according to the requirements of Zendrak. And Zendrak was following Greatkin Rimble's orders. Yafatah pushed through the swinging door into the crowded kitchen. Yawning, the young Tammirring girl said, «Anybody found the dog?» Zendrak glanced at Yafatah and said, «I think he's gone off again. He does that. Maybe for weeks at a time.» Yafatah scowled. Janusin, who had not seen Yafatah for two days, stared at the sixteen-year-old's swollen face and hands. «You look awful. What happened to you?» «Thanks,» muttered Yafatah through fat lips. «A swarm of uni—univer—whatever they are—got her,» said Tree. «Univer'silsila,» corrected Barlimo and Rowenaster together. Rowenaster began pouring everyone mugs of cocoa, being careful to leave enough in the pot for Podiddley when he returned from sulking. As he got to Zendrak, the Saambolin professor said, «You and Kel must've had a dilly of

 

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