s 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 orchestra now. And he's handpicking the members himself. As far as I know, Cobeth hates folk music. You should've seen the stinks he raised against Timmer when the Dunnsung would practice out in the studio.» «So you think he's intentionally breaking up her band—to punish her?» Tree sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. «I've no idea, Doogat. But Cobeth fired me from The Merry Pricksters for no better reason than that.» Tree bit off another bite of bread. Chewing thoughtfully, Tree added, «Neath—I don't know, Doogs. Maybe Cobeth's still taking it out on Janusin. And we're just catching the fallout from the fireworks.» «Maybe,» said Doogat quietly. At that moment, Po came bursting into the kitchen. Pointing to the windows in the front of the shop, he exclaimed, «She's out there, Doogat! The one who had the beads! The woman in black is out in the street!» Doogat jumped to his feet, ordering Tree to hail a happincabby. «Have it brought around back. Po you come help me with Mab. Then all three of you return to the Kaleidicopia. Remain there, please. Tell Barlimo what has happened. Tell her the ninth has arrived. She'll understand.» In a few moments, Doogat had completely cleared the little shop of customers, visitors, and residents. Doogat put the sign that read «Temporarily Closed» back in the window. Changing his blue robe for green, Doogat's features swiftly turned into Zendrak's. Then, taking a deep breath, Zendrak let Kelandris see him. Chapter Thirty Kelandris stared at the familiar face looking at her through the window of the tobacco shop. Her body stiffened, her skin breaking out in an ice-cold sweat. She knew that face. She had seen that face a thousand times in her dreams. Kelandris raised her hand timidly as if to reach for Zendrak's raven-black hair. The shock of seeing Zendrak so close to her momentarily cleared Kel's mind of confusion and rage. «Oh, my dearest love—» she whispered. Then Trickster's recent sabotage set in. Certain that Zendrak was the one who had betrayed her in Suxonli, Kel's open hand tightened into a fist. Letting out a cry of fury, Kelandris pulled her knife and ran up the stairs. Zendrak opened the door for her. Kelandris entered cautiously. Zendrak saw the knife and backed up, his stance ready, his expression unreadable. Kelandris smiled cruelly under her veil. Sniffing the smell of fresh tobacco mixtures, Kelandris quickly scanned the size of the little store. She noted the hanging beads separating the shop from the kitchen in the back and the stairs leading to the second floor of Doogat's residence. Wondering where the little Asilliwir thief was, Kel circled Zendrak slowly. Zendrak made no move to stop her, watching Kelandris intently. The tension between them was extreme. Zendrak's heart pounded, every sense alert. The question was when Kel would attack him—not if. Kelandris chuckled. Zendrak flinched. Her laugh was the laugh of a madwoman. And yet it was controlled. Zendrak swallowed, aware perhaps for the first time of how extremely dangerous Kelandris was to him. He was mortal; he could be killed. And so could she. Without warning, Kelandris moved on him. Thrusting from underneath with her knife, Kelandris aimed for Zendrak's abdomen. Zendrak responded instantly. Bringing his right hand in close to his body, he slammed it against Kel's left wrist and knocked the weapon wide of its target. Surprised by the speed and accuracy of Zendrak's block but not bested, Kelandris maintained her hold on the knife. Seeing this, Zendrak continued to twist to the right, grabbing Kel's weapon hand. They faced the same direction now, her chest against his back. Kelandris seized the chance to crush Zendrak's windpipe with her free arm. As she tightened against his neck, Zendrak elbowed Kelandris viciously in the solar plexus. Kel automatically folded against Zendrak's broad back. Zendrak pulled her trapped left arm forward and brought her knuckles down hard across his knee. Prepared to break Kel's arm if she refused to relinquish the knife, he slammed her hand against his knee a second and third time. Finally, the pain caused Kel's fingers to open. The knife clattered to the floor. Before Kelandris could regain her balance, Zendrak dropped her over his hip. Kel hit the floor soundly, landing on her back. Momentarily dazed, she made no move to get up. Zendrak took advantage of Kel's brief immobilization and applied a variation of the Mayanabi trick he had used on Mab. Straddling Kelandris, Zendrak put a knee on each arm and reached for the back of Kel's neck with both hands. As soon as he made contact with her skin, Kel's body entered a state of light paralysis. Kelandris swore, her eyes rolling upward under her veil. She fought to remain conscious. Zendrak shifted his weight, simultaneously freeing her arms and deepening the psychological rapport between them. Kel's body relaxed despite her overwhelming desire to throttle the man leaning over her. Unable to move an inch—much less make a decent fist—Kelandris fought Zendrak for mental autonomy. And succeeded. Taken aback by the weight and discipline of Kel's will, Zendrak redoubled his efforts to disarm Kelandris psychically as well as physically. He pressed her for surrender and pressed her hard. Kelandris sucked in her breath, hating Zendrak. Attacking him with the full brunt of the rage she felt for Yonneth, Kelandris managed to break the mental hold Zendrak had on her. Screaming at Zendrak to stop touching her, she struggled to free her head from his hands. Zendrak maintained contact, his body sweating, his concentration fierce. Terrified by the merciless gaze in Zendrak's dark eyes, Kel raked his cheek with the sharp fingernails of her left hand. She drew blood. Zendrak winced but said nothing. Kelandris extended her fingers then curved them like the claws of the Mythrrim she was. She raised her hand to swipe at Zendrak again, a low growl rumbling deep in her throat. Zendrak answered in kind, snapping at the air in front of her veiled face. Startled, Kelandris stared at him, her heart pounding. Mythrrim faced Mythrrim in silence. Zendrak shifted his weight, the collar of his green tunic pulling slightly to the side. Kel's breath caught. Something black and shiny hung around his neck. Kelandris reached tentatively for Zendrak's obsidian beads. Zendrak released his physical hold on Kel's neck and smacked her hand away from the Kindrasul. Kel tried again. Zendrak growled at her, his dark eyes hooded and angry. Kelandris started to attack him, arching her back. Zendrak slapped her face, knocking her against the floor. Kelandris shook her head dazedly. Now she spoke, her voice desperate and pleading. «My pretty thing. Give it!» Noting with interest that Kelandris had momentarily dropped her habitual rhyme of sixteen years, Zendrak said evenly, «My pretty thing.» Kel's voice became more anxious. «Give it. Give it back. If you love, give it back.» Zendrak frowned, momentarily startled by Kel's inclusion of the word love in their conversation. He noted she had said, «If you love, give it back.» Not, «If you love me.» The first statement was typical of Greatkin Phebene, the second of Trickster. Cautiously, Zendrak asked, «Would you like some tea?» He wondered how much baneberry he'd need to use in order to knock her out. Kelandris shook her head. «Not me. T is for thee but not for me. Phebene sez: tea for two, cakes and kin—odds are great, Rimble won't win.» Zendrak said nothing for a moment, reassessing the situation. If Phebene were speaking through Kelandris at present, she might be telling him to disarm Kel through something other than dirty tricks. Quite a challenge. He turned back to the veiled woman lying below him on the floor. Changing his tactics, Zendrak pulled the Kindrasul free from his neck, watching Kel's left hand clench and unclench with greed. Holding the obsidian beads just out of her reach, Zendrak said, «On the other hand, I can see how much my pretty thing means to you. And you've already taken such good care of it, yes?» «Yes. Keeps bad dreams away. Give,» she added, trying to grab the black glass beads from his grasp. Zendrak held the Kindrasul above his head. «I'll give the beads to you, Kelandris. But only on one condition—that you stop fighting me right now. If you don't, I'll hide my pretty thing where you'll never find it.» Kelandris snarled at h