Jinnjirri troupe of actors on the far side of the Jinnjirri Quarter of the city. Tree was usually a very even-tempered soul, his hair remaining a constant green. He also happened to be sweet on Mab, and Mab knew it. «He got a shipment of damaged furs and soggy flash powders from the north today,» said Barlimo. «They were needed for the Prickster's new play. Rimble's Remedy, I think it's called.» Mab smiled broadly. «The one that Cobeth's in?» «Yes,» replied Barlimo, not sharing the girl's enthusiasm. Rowenaster took a deep breath, turning to Barlimo. «I'll be glad when that little bastard, Cobeth, is finally out of here.» Mab stared at Rowenaster, her expression puzzled. «Did I say something wrong?» she asked. «About Cobeth, I mean?» «No, no, child,» replied the professor hastily. «I was just expressing a personal opinion. Pay it no mind. Cobeth and I go back about ten years. I had him in my Survey class.» Mab bit her lower lip. She was in the professor's celebrated class this term. Mid-term examinations had been handed in three days ago. Mab was dying to know if Rowenaster had corrected her paper yet. She suspected she had done quite well on it. As usual. Mab smiled timidly at the old man. «Urn—did you—I mean, have you—» «The exams are in the next room,» said the Professor. «I know I've done Tree's. I can't remember if I've done yours or not,» he added with an apologetic smile. Mab's face paled. «You don't remember—» «Mab, Mab—you always do this to yourself. Don't always assume the worst. Me not remembering could mean any number of things,» continued the professor. He chuckled, winking at Barlimo. «Could mean I'm senile.» «That'll be the day,» replied Barlimo. «You Saambolin are notorious for growing old brilliantly.» Rowenaster grinned. «In any event, Mab—you know you're a good student. You haven't made less than one hundred percent the whole term. So relax. And if it'll make you feel better, I'll correct your examination next.» «During the house meeting?» said Mab dubiously. Rowenaster grunted. «She thinks I can't do two things at once.» «Oh, no, sir—» said Mab hastily, looking so alarmed that both Barlimo and Rowenaster wondered if the little Piedmerri was going to burst into tears. «Mab,» said Barlimo with genuine concern, «he was making a joke. Come on, child—lighten up.» Mab blinked, then apparently perceiving Barlimo's comment as a rebuke, she burst into tears and left the kitchen. Barlimo watched the door swing to and fro in stunned silence. «Did that just happen?» she asked the professor. Rowenaster took a deep breath. «Someone's hurt that child. And not just once either.» He poured himself a glass of water from the tap in the sink. «Know anything about her family background?» «Mab paints a peculiar, but overall pleasant picture of her folks. Artists of some kind. Bohemian Jinnjirri.» Barlimo smiled wryly. «You know the type.» Rowenaster sighed. «Speaking of such creatures—are Janusin and Cobeth coming to this house meeting?» Barlimo pursed her lips. «Probably just Janusin. He and Cobeth have been going at each other's throats all day in the studio. You know how we Jinnjirri are when we breakup—big floor show. Includes everyone, you know. I'll be surprised if we get through the meeting without some reference to their scuttled relationship.» «But no Jinnjirri emotional fireworks, I pray.» Barlimo shrugged. «Well, Jan and Cobeth are both sculptors. I suppose there's no telling what could go flying—hammers, chisels, or tempers.» The professor smiled grimly. «Never a dull moment at the Kaleidicopia.» Barlimo nodded at the swinging door and the commons room that lay just beyond it. «Shall we enter the maelstrom?» «By all means,» said the professor, picking up his bowl of curry and following Barlimo into the next room. Podiddley looked up as the two entered. «Hey, professor,» he said with a pleased expression, «you put my question on the exam.» The little thief nodded at the pile of neatly stacked papers by the oil lamp on the far wall. «You're not supposed to be thumbing through those, Po,» said Rowenaster with an annoyed frown. «That's what I told him,» commented Timmer. She was sitting by the roaring hearth of the commons room, rebraiding her hair. «He's a little light-fingered louse!» «I didn't take anything!» retorted Po. «I bet that's what you tell all your marks in the street, too!» «Timmertandi,» said Barlimo sternly, «that's enough.» The room fell into a disgruntled silence. «Where's Mab?» asked Rowenaster. «In the usual place,» replied Timmer with disinterest. «Sobbing her eyes out in the first floor bathroom. Shall I fetch her?» she asked, her expression bored. Mab's unusual sensitivity to other people's displeasure irritated Timmer. She appreciated Mab's helpfulness around the house but not her constant tears. «Leave Mab for now,» said Barlimo. «I expect we'll have excitement enough when Doogat arrives. Best to let our Piedmerri catch her breath.» Timmer sighed loudly. «Why we have to have Mayanabi in this house utterly eludes me.» «That's not surprising,» replied Po smoothly. «Implying?» Timmer snapped. «Oh, I'm implying nothing,» said Po with an ingratiating smile at Barlimo. Barlimo stopped eating her stew. Po grinned more broadly. «I'm stating without hesitation—Timmertandi of Belkanon Tuning—that everything eludes you. You're a dumbshit Dunnsung.» The room exploded with bad tempers. In the midst of all this, the front door to the Kaleidicopia opened and closed. A man of medium height and dressed in varying shades of blue entered the front hallway and removed his full length cloak. Listening to the furious round of insults, he started laughing. The sound was deep and genuinely merry. The room fell silent in surprise. The man in blue turned around, giving the boisterous denizens of the Kaleidicopia a small bow. When he raised his head to look at each of them individually, his pupilless black eyes glittered. The Irreverent Old Doogat of Suf had finally arrived. Chapter Seven Balding with ruddy apple cheeks and impossible eyes, Doogat resembled none of the known landdraws of Mnemlith. When asked about his point of origin, the man remained secretive, indicating that he had kin somewhere «up north.» He appeared sixty-two years old in wrinkles and age spots, but his movements were those of a much younger man. Doogat had one known vice: his meerschaum pipe collection. Carved from a substance known colloquially as sea foam, Doogat's meerschaums were the finest anyone had ever seen. Each bowl was cut with exquisitely carved figures and faces, some of them etched with Mayanabi sayings. Doogat smiled playfully at his apprentice, Po, and pulled out a bent, black-stemmed beauty of a pipe. Po took one look at the interlocking design on the meerschaum bowl and at the nimble-footed figure of a Greatkin pirouetting there and blanched. «Uh-oh,» he mumbled. «Now what?» asked Timmer, throwing another log on the fire. «That's his Trickster pipe,» muttered Po. «When he's smoking that one, there's no stopping him.» Po shook his head worriedly, adding to himself, «Oh, I'm in trouble now. Yes, I am.» Doogat grinned at Po, his black eyes unblinking. Then the Mayanabi Master turned to Barlimo. «This is hardly the whole crew, dear lady. Where are the rest of your deviants?» Barlimo counted the missing members of the household on hei fingers. «Let's see—Cobeth's not coming because he's moving out, Tree will be along as soon as he's finished with play rehearsal—uh, Janusin's out back in the sculpting studio, and Mab's bawling in the bathroom.» Doogat rubbed his clean shaven chin and nodded. «A typical day at the Kaleidicopia. Well, well,» he said, crossing the room and plunking down beside Podiddley, «hope I haven't missed anything yet.» «You never miss anything, Doogat,» grumbled Po under his breath. Then, looking into the Mayanabi's queer eyes, he added, «Just don't box my ears tonight, okay?» Doogat lit a match and purposefully charred the top layer of tobacco in his Trickster meerschaum, sucking the bright flame deep into the bowl. «Now why,» he asked, blowing out the match, «would I need to do a thing like that, Po?» «I don't know. But you've done it before—and for no good reason!» complained the little Asilliwir thief, his expression indignant. «Only as a last resort,» replied Doogat mildly, continuing to puff on his pipe. He turned to Rowenaster who sat directly behind him in a large leather armchair, the stack of midterm examinations in his lap. «Professor, what's your opinion?» «About what?» asked Rowenaster peering over his silver bifocals. «Don't you agree that students who don't listen should get their ears boxed?» Po licked his lips nervously. He started to move away from Doogat, but the Mayanabi Master caught his arm and held him fast. Po began to whine. «Doogat—now come on, Doogat—don't do anything—» Rowenaster cleared his throat and folded his dark-skinned hands over the sheaf of white papers in his lap. «I've never had to resort to such measures, Master Doogat. We Saambolin are a conservative bunch.» «You've never flunked a student?» asked Doogat. «Well, yes. But—» Doogat made a fist and playfully punched the air. «Same thing.» Rowenaster stiffened. «Hitting a student is not the same—» Doogat wagged a finger in the professor's old face. «You're being civilized again, Rowen—I warned you about that. Now observe the direct teaching approach.» Then, before Po could flee, Doogat grabbed the thief and neatly boxed his left ear. Po howled with dismay. Doogat continued his demonstration of direct teaching without a pause. «Observe, Rowen—see how Po clutches his ear. Po has just remembered that he has an ear. That's important. Before any real learning can take place, pupils must be made aware of the tools at their disposal.» Doogat winked at Podiddley and blew a lazy smoke ring. Po, who was furious, scrambled to his feet. «I didn't deserve that!» «Rimble-Rimble,» said Doogat evenly. «You will.» «You can't punish me for something that hasn't happened!» Doogat made a disapproving sound with his tongue. «That's linear thinking, my boy. Remember what I told you about that.» Po scowled. «You twist everything to your own advantage, Doogat. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.» Doogat chuckled. «Such a complainer.» He patted the spot on the rug next to him. «Sit down.» Po regarded him warily. «Po—sit!» When Po finally did so, Doogat added, «You know very well, O My Student, that Mayanabi Masters don't always do what's fair. They do what's indicated.» «Yeah, yeah,» mumbled Po, «and their ways are mysterious. I read that book, too, Doogs.» He slumped, sitting cross-legged. Doogat cuffed Po gently on the back of the neck and gave the little thief a warm smile. Then Doogat turned to the professor once more and said, «Do you begin to understand a little?» Rowenaster frowned. «I'm not sure.» Doogat grunted approvingly. «Good. Students who're sure before they're ready to be sure are a waste of my time.» Po stared first at Doogat, then at Rowenaster, and back at Doogat again. « Professor Rowenaster is your student, Doogat? Since when?» he asked indignantly, feeling immediately protective of his twelve-year-old relationship with the Irreverent Old Doogat of Suf. The Mayanabi Master blew a smoke ring. «Since the professor asked me a certain question over a month ago. I'm endeavoring to answer it—Mayanabi style. Using you as my eager assistant, of course. You could call this a rather tricky tutorial,» he added, smiling at the pirouetting figure on the front of his pipe. Po rubbed his left ear gingerly. «I could call it a lot of things, Doogat. Do me a favor, will you? Leave me out of the lesson plan. Okay?» Doogat's expression sobered unexpectedly. «As you wish.» Po's eyes widened in appalled amazement. He swallowed, his voice stricken. «Doogat—now let's not be hasty. I mean, I'm still your student, aren't I?» «Are you?» asked Doogat, raising an eyebrow. «We'll see.» Mab, who had finally finished her cry in the bathroom, joined the rest of them at this moment. Heads turned to look at her. She smiled weakly, well aware that her face was bloated and red from weeping. Doogat met her eyes without blinking. The effect was so unnerving that the young Piedmerri shrank back. Doogat gestured her over with a motion of his head. Mab licked her lips nervously, her brown eyes pleading for escape. Doogat grunted and got to his feet. Mab's eyes widened. Her body stiffened as she prepared to flee. Doogat said softly, «Like a frightened doe, hmm, Mab?» The Piedmerri girl swallowed. «I don't know what you mean, sir.» «That's too bad. I'd hoped you would,» he said with a disappointed sigh. «Well, well—I must've misjudged you. I thought you knew something about courage.» «Her?» said Timmer in disbelief. Mab blinked, feeling more and more confused. She bit her lip, her eyes jumping to the dancing Rimble figure on Doogat's pipe. She recognized Trickster immediately having just had him on the mid-term exam. Although she professed no particular belief in the existence of the Greatkin, it was still queer to be standing face-to-face with a such a fine representation of the Patron of Deviance and Dirty Tricks. In an effort to relieve the tension she was feeling between herself and Doogat, Mab mumbled, «Your pipe, sir—it's very—uh—interesting.» «Isn't it?» asked Doogat smiling broadly. He pulled the pipe out of his mouth, holding it toward Mab. «Come take a closer look.» Mab hesitated. She didn't want to appear rude or—Presence forbid—give Doogat cause to be angry with her. «Come, come. It won't bite,» said Doogat jovially. «Ha,» muttered Po. Mab glanced at the disgruntled thief. Pressing her lips together, Mab inched toward Doogat, acting as if she were testing the high wire in a circus act. A high wire without a safety net. Doogat remained motionless, his dark eyes watching her with amusement. Mab took another unsteady step toward Doogat, her fingers reaching for the meerschaum pipe. Her hand was trembling. Doogat chuckled unexpectedly and moved aside—putting the pipe just out of her grasp. Mab came to an abrupt standstill, tears brimming in her eyes. «What did you go and do that for, Doogat?» asked Rowenaster indignantly. «Can't you see how frightened Mab is of you?» Doogat waved him silent with a sharp gesture of his hand. His eyes never leaving Mab's, the Mayanabi Master said, «Try again.» Tears streamed down Mab's cheeks. She wiped them away hastily. «No,» she whimpered. «I can't. You'll take it away again.» «You don't know that,» replied Doogat evenly. «It's a—it's a Trickster pipe—I know about Greatkin Rimble—» «Do you, Mab?» asked Doogat calmly. «Do you really?» Rowenaster interrupted at this point, holding up Mab's recently corrected mid-term. «She aced the exam, Doogat. You can't do better than that.» «Can't you?» asked Doogat, his black eyes boring into Mab's terror-stricken face. «What if a hundred percent won't do?» «Won't do?» asked Mab, her expression bewildered. «It has to do. It has to, Master Doogat.» Mab's crying became very agitated now, a panic growing inside her. «It—it's always been enough. A hundred percent. You can't do any more,» she wept. Doogat watched her in silence, his expression unexpectedly compassionate. Without a further word, the Mayanabi Master took Mab in his arms and held her. She struggled half-heartedly, then seemed to give up, her face pale with fear.