ddley was so startled by the animal-like behavior of his Mayanabi Master that he pushed back from the table, upsetting his own chair. He landed in a painful heap on the stone floor of the little tobacco shop. Exposed nerves and bruised bone screamed at him, and Po swore in agony. Cradling his hurt hand, Po leaned against the wall, his face breaking into a sweat. Doogat knelt beside him hastily. «You all right?» asked the older man. Po sucked in his breath and whispered, «I was about to ask you that.» As the bells in the Great Library campanile rang ten bell-morn, Fasilla, Aunt, and Yafatah drove through the west gate of Speakinghast. Handing Yafatah the forged pass Aunt had made for them, Fasilla said, «Doon't lose that, child. We'll need it again should them Saams stop us for anything. They have strict curfews in this town. And strict laws. Here—put it in me travelling pack.» Yafatah nodded and did as she was told. The young Tammirring girl had all but recovered from her bout with «landdraw fever.» On the morning of the fourth day when crossing out of Jinnjirri and into southern Saambolin, Yafatah had suddenly regained her mental composure—and Kelandris had lost hers. Shaken and disoriented, Yafatah had cried for hours. She had felt a sadness and a loneliness that she could not understand or forget. Despite the queerness of her shared rapport with Kelandris, in an odd way Yafatah had valued it. She had never known another Tammirring, and the psychic intimacy she had experienced with Kel had shown her what being among her own draw might be like. Ever since that morning, Yafatah had hoped to meet up with travelling Tammirring. So far, she had been disappointed. It seemed that the Tammirring kept to themselves—and to their northern native land. Yafatah sighed, scanning the crowds in front of her for veiled women and men. Suddenly, Yafatah broke into a smile. «There be Tammi here,» she whispered softly, pointing to a group of slowly moving university students. Their colorful veils fluttered with the animation of their conversation. «Look, Ma—me own kind.» Fasilla, who had been feeling that Yafatah was growing stranger and stranger by the day, responded curtly. «There they be, Ya. And there they stay. We havena' come to this city so you can socialize. We must see the Master Doogat. When that be done, we'll go home to Asilliwir.» Yafatah's face fell. She turned away from her mother and refused to speak to her for the rest of the drive to Doogat's. Fasilla put up with this only barely. At the moment, Fasilla felt annoyed with everyone—especially her good friend, Aunt. Some days ago, Fasilla had wanted to turn back at the pass through the Feyborne Mountains. Just as she had reined her roans to a stop, Aunt glared at her in obvious disapproval. So Fasilla had continued driving her on toward Speakinghast. Fasilla sighed wearily. Wending her way down the crowded Asilliwir Quarter streets, she felt quite certain that this whole trip had been a terrific waste of time. Besides, Yafatah was well now. Or mostly well. The child didn't need to see the man named Doogat. At least, that was the way Fasilla saw it. «Doon't you want to go home?» Fasilla asked her daughter suddenly. Yafatah shrugged, her young mind stimulated by the bustle and enormity of the cultural capital surrounding them. At the moment the city seemed like an oasis. Here she could learn of other draws, make Tammi friends, eat strange foods. And ride in a Saambolin happincabby, she thought, watching one trot past. A tear of yearning slipped down Yafatah's cheek. Without answering her mother, the Tammirring girl pulled her red veil down over her face and black hair. She wanted to stay in this city. She wanted to make it her home. After several wrong turns, and several stops for directions, Fasilla, Yafatah, and Aunt arrived at Doogat's Pipe and Tobacco Bazaar. Bringing the roans to a standstill, Fasilla handed the reins to Aunt and hopped to the ground. The Asilliwir woman read the «Temporarily Closed» sign in the window and swore. Rubbing her neck tiredly, she decided to take the wagon to the nearest caravan park. Once camped, the three travellers would be free to scout out the public baths in this section of town. Fasilla smiled. First things first, she decided, stepping off the front porch to the little tobacco shop. Climbing back on the wagon, Fasilla said, to both Aunt and Yafatah, «It do be closed right now. I doon't want to wait. Shall we find a place to camp? We do be fierce dirty—what say you to a hot bath, child?» Yafatah nodded mutely. Aunt frowned, staring at Doogat's shuttered shop. Her Mayanabi senses told her he was in there. They also told her that Doogat did not wish to be disturbed. Later, she thought at him silently. One of us will return later. Fine, came the answering reply. As the Asilliwir wagon drove away, Kelandris stepped out in the street. She watched Fasilla's wagon disappear around the comer, her expression wary and angry. Scowling under her veil, Crazy Kel returned to her hiding place. If the Asilliwir thief didn't come out of the shop soon, she might have to go in after him. He had her pretty thing. He had her special, pretty thing. And she wanted it back. Tree was the next to arrive at Doogat's. He had come to visit Mab. Carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, he opened the back door of Doogat's kitchen. He was surprised to find both Po and Doogat inside. He wondered why no one was tending the shop. Then Tree saw Po's wounded hand. Eyeing the sewing needle and roll of bandages on the kitchen table, Tree muttered, «Maybe I should come back later.» «Nonsense,» said Po gaily, he was feeling very good and very relaxed thanks to the baneberry tea. The little Asilliwir beamed at the Jinnjirri and offered him a ringside seat. Tree declined it, starting up the stairs that led to Mab's room. As Tree put his hand on the banister, Doogat asked, «Did you happen to see anyone in black hanging around out there?» Tree shook his head. «Should I have?» Po broke into peals of laughter. Patting Doogat on the back with his good hand, the thief winked at Tree and said, «Doogs thinks there's a ghost from his past haunting the place. Thinks she means to do him in, too. Can you imagine that?» continued Po. «Doogat's never taken by surprise.» Po giggled. «Would be fun to see it happen. Just once,» he added hastily as Doogat picked up the jar of black antiseptic again. Tree inclined his head at the stairs. «Mab up?» «Don't think so,» replied Po. Then, seeing the flowers in Tree's nand, he added, «Now isn't that sweet. Flowers for the Piedmerri virgin. Course nobody believes that anymore. Cobeth—» «I do!» snapped Tree. Po shrugged. «Cobeth makes his moves pretty fast—» Doogat intervened at this point. «Shut, up, Po.» Then, without warning the little Asilliwir, he poured more antiseptic on Po's knife wound. Po's shrieks of dismay sent Tree running up the stairs three steps at a time. Tree had been coming to visit Mab faithfully ever since the party at Rhu's, bringing her little gifts and news from the house. For the past three weeks, Tree had worked hard to convince the little Piedmerri that all Jinnjirri weren't bad. This had been Doogat's idea. Tree wasn't sure if he was succeeding or not. Furthermore, in the past two days, Tree had noticed something disturbing in the Piedmerri's general mood. Tree wasn't altogether sure what it was that disturbed him. Mostly, Mab just seemed empty in some way. Empty and yearning to be filled up. But by what? Tree shook his head as he approached Mab's closed door. Tree hoped holovespa wasn't addictive. It never occurred to the Jinnjirri that Cobeth might be. Tree knocked softly. «Mab? You up?» «Come in,» said a dull voice. Tree opened the door, thrusting the flowers in front of him. When Mab didn't respond with exclamations or thanks, Tree poked his head into her room. The windows were shut, the drapes drawn. The heavy, oriental tapestries hanging on the walls made the room seem smaller. Almost claustrophobic today, thought Tree uneasily. Mab sat on the corner of her single bed, her shoulders hunched, her expression distant. «You okay?» asked Tree, coming into the room and squatting beside Mab. Mab said nothing. Tree's green hair turned a little gray. «Mab?» He touched her cheek gently. She responded by turning away from him. Tree licked his lips worriedly. He had never seen Mab so depressed. Tree sat down beside the Piedmerri, laying the flowers in his lap. «Did you have bad dreams?» Mab nodded. Tree took a deep breath. «About Cobeth?» Mab nodded. «He raped me.» Remembering Po's jabs, Tree took Mab literally, his voice horrified. «He did? At the party?» Mab finally looked at Tree. She shook her head. «Not at Rhu's. In my dream.» She laughed, the sound of it brittle. «But maybe psychic rape counts as much as physical?» Her eyes looked to him for confirmation. Tree shrugged. He had never heard of a psychic rape. «Don't know. You could ask a Tammi,» he added lamely. Mab shook her head. Then, crawling toward the wall next to her bed, Mab left Tree where he was. Picking up her pillow, Mab stuffed it across her belly and sat in a hunched position. A silent tear fell down her cheek, her eyes staring at nothing. It scared Tree to see Mab like this. She didn't look altogether sane. He decided to go and fetch Doogat. Leaving the flowers he had brought for Mab on the bed, Tree hurriedly left the room. Tree reached the downstairs just as Doogat was finishing bandaging Po's stitched hand. Doogat looked up as Tree walked into the kitchen. «What's wrong?» asked Doogat immediately. Tree gestured helplessly. «Mab's so sad. She's sitting curled up in a little ball on her bed. And she'll hardly talk to me.» Doogat frowned. Then, telling Po to open the shop and handle the till, Doogat followed Tree upstairs. The Mayanabi Master opened the door to Mab's room slowly. Mab hadn't moved from her spot against the wall. Doogat motioned for Tree to come in and shut the door. Tree did so. Doogat got on the bed with Mab while Tree watched. Mab gave no sign of recognition to Doogat, her eyes unblinking. Doogat grunted. Reaching for Mab, he pulled her away from the wall toward him. Mab didn't fight him. Holding Mab in his arms, he began speaking to her softly about the good things in the world. He told her about kindness and hope. As he continued, Mab began to shake. Doogat smoothed her hair. This tiny gesture of caring undid Mab completely. Sobbing, she buried her face in Doogat's chest, begging Doogat to keep Cobeth away from her. Tree stared, taken aback by the wrenching sound of her weeping. Tree had cried once like that. Tree shivered, not wanting to recall the circumstances that had produced this much pain in him. Tree turned away, forcing his mood to change, forcing his frosted hair to shift to green. «Cobeth can't hurt you now, Mab,» said Doogat gently. «He can!» she cried. «I can't keep him out at night. There's a door open somewhere. There's a place—» Doogat shut his eyes, searching Mab's psyche to see if what she was saying was true. His Mayanabi senses scanned her emotional body. Doogat grunted softly. There was a small place, a small back door where someone could slip in against Mab's will. Doogat poured some of his understanding of goodness into her wounded psyche. As Mab's fragile emotions steadied, her body relaxed in Doogat's arms, the fear leaving her eyes. «That's better, hmm?» asked Doogat with a smile. Mab nodded, her breathing becoming more regular. «Good.» Putting his left hand on the back of her neck, Doogat asked, «Do you trust me, Mab?» She nodded. «All right,» said the Mayanabi Master. «I'm going to put you to sleep now, Mab—without herbs. Do you think you might let me do this?» Mab smiled and shut her eyes. Before she had taken the next breath, Mab was sound asleep. Doogat removed his hand from the back of her neck. Lowering Mab to the bed, he pulled a blanket over her body. Tree's jaw dropped. He had never seen anyone put someone to sleep like that—or so swiftly. «What—what did you do?» Doogat smiled. «It's an old Mayanabi trick.» Tree pressed him for more information, but Doogat simply smiled. Gesturing toward the door, Doogat indicated that he wanted Tree to come downstairs with him. Outside in the street, Kelandris watched people come and go from Doogat's shop. Her hand clenched; she wanted her black beads. Now. She could see Po from where she stood in the alley. She felt relieved that he was still inside—she had begun to ler. Just as Kel had decided to find out if the shop had a back door, Po had removed the sign from the window and opened the shop for business again. Now the only problem was the matter of ambushing Po while customers stood at the counter. Kelandris crossed her arms over her chest, feeling uneasy about the prospect. Kelandris disliked small, enclosed spaces. They made her feel panicky. Sometimes, she would break out in a sweat and remember things she didn't want to remember—especially in a crowd. Kelandris continued to watch the steady give and take of Doogat's clientele as she considered the logistics of staging a successful mugging. The more she looked at the size of the tiny tobacco store, the more she felt reluctant to enter it. Kelandris swore. She wanted her pretty thing back. She wanted it back real bad. Without it, Kel knew she would have those incest dreams about Zendrak again. They had stopped as soon as she had found the string of Kindrasul when she had crossed the Feyborne Mountains on her way to Speakinghast. For one hundred and eighteen years, Zendrak's Kindrasul had lain hidden in a rocky cleft of one of the mountain's steep crags. Trickster's Emissary had dropped it accidently when he had returned from the Everywhen on the back of Further—right into a particularly violent wind and lightning storm. The noise had been so deafening and the wind so strong that Zendrak had neither heard nor felt the loss of his glass beads. Kelandris had nearly missed seeing the beads in the cleft. But just as she walked past, her knife fell out of her sleeve. The knife had never done this before, and, in fact, due to the snug fit of the sleeve, Kelandris had thought the knife was impossible to lose. Frowning, she had leaned over to pick it up and been distracted by the glint of something black and shiny off to her right. Forgetting her knife for the moment, she pulled the string of Kindrasul free from the dirt and loose rock. Smiling, Kelandris had attributed her good fortune to having the luck of the Trickster that day. Actually, Kel owed her thanks to Phebene. As soon as the Mayanabi master had closed the door to Mab's room, Doogat offered Tree some bread and honey in the kitchen. Tree accepted, eyeing the fresh brown loaf and golden honey hungrily. Doogat put a slab of sweet butter on the table and handed Tree a knife. As Doogat brewed more tea, he asked Tree what news he had from the Kaleidicopia. «Mostly bad, I'm afraid,» said Tree, cutting off a large slice of bread. «You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that Cobeth had it in for everyone at the house. I was thinking about it on my way over here this morning. I mean, when you look at it—Cobeth's hurt every single house member. Some of them twice over. Like Rowen.» Doogat grunted. «I can't believe no one has proven Cobeth stole Rowen's Trickster materials from the Great Library, I would've thought it easy—considering he had Rowen's library card in his possession on the night of Rhu's party. Surely, you've got probable cause to search Cobeth's lodgings. Even the Saambolin agree to that.» Tree shrugged. «Yeah, Doogs—but you forget. No one at the house wants the Saambolin Guildguard to know any of us were there on that particular night.» Tree spread honey on his bread. «How Cobeth managed to come out smelling like a frigging rose, I'll never understand. Timmer says there were all sorts of drugs in Cobeth's desk. He must've dumped them down the garderobe—or had the biggest hangover ever known.» Doogat smiled. «Cobeth is clever.» «Yeah. The sonofabitch. I just wish he'd get caught once.» «Maybe he will,» said Doogat idly. Tree sighed. «I know Timmer would like that. After this morning, she's ready to kill Cobeth with her bare hands.» Doogat poured cups of black currant tea. Ever since his picnic Phebene, he had developed a liking for this particular flavor. The rich, fruity smell sweetened the air. «So,» said Doogat quietly. «What's Cobeth done to Timmer?» Tree chewed his mouthful of bread and honey. Swallowing, he said, «Oh—just broken up her musical quintet. Nothing major, understand. Just Timmer's livelihood.» Doogat narrowed his eyes. «Explain.» Tree shrugged. «Seems Cobeth has a need for a theatrical orche