at?» asked Kelandris, bewildered by the sudden change of subject. «Remember—wear a costume,» he continued. «Makes it so much more fun for everyone, I think. Oh, and by the way—Zendrak will be there.» Before Kelandris could respond, Doogat whirled away from her. He walked swiftly to the Kaleidicopia. The door slammed shut behind him. Kelandris stared at the startling color of the door. Feeling disoriented and in some mild state of psychic shock, Kelandris pulled her veil down over her face again. Then, swearing softly, she slipped into the shadows. She would watch this house, she decided. She would watch it closely. Chapter Thirty-Eight By the time Doogat returned to the house, dinner was almost over. A few of the denizens of the Kaleidicopia sat sprawled in the commons room, their stomachs warm and full. Conversation was minimal as Janusin stoked the fire in the hearth, his handsome profile silhouetted against the dancing flames. To his right, Timmer strummed her lotari softly humming a lilting melody to herself and scribbling the notes down on paper as soon as she had them figured out. Feeling contrary tonight, Po decided to do the opposite of what people expected of him; he decided to be magnanimous. In truth, this was less Po's decision and more the growing influence of Greatkin Phebene upon Rimble's Nine. Still, it was a pleasant change and all welcomed it. Po walked into the room carrying a tea service for the entire dinner party. He set it on the round, low table in the commons room just as Doogat closed the front door to the house. Catching Doogat's strained expression out of the corner of his eye, the little thief turned to his Mayanabi Master and said, «You look lousy. Are you feeling all right, Doogs?» Doogat nodded and ducked into the first floor bathroom. He shut the door swiftly. Po's eyes narrowed. He poured tea for everyone, and, when he was satisfied that all had been served, he crossed the room to the bathroom. He knocked gently, saying, «Hey, Doogs—you want mint tea?» Doogat's answer was unintelligible. «Doogat?» asked Po, suddenly becoming concerned for the old man. In his opinion, Doogat had been acting extremely nervous all evening. Extremely tense. Perhaps Doogat was ill? Po tried the door. It opened easily. Po's eyes widened in surprise. Doogat sat hunched against the wall of the bathroom, his sixty-two-year-old face streaked with tears. Doogat raised his head sharply. «Get out of here, Po!» «Nope,» replied Po, coming into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him softly. «Something's been eating you all night. I want to know what it is.» «Not now.» Po hesitated. He knew he was treading dangerous ground. He wondered if he felt up to being punched out by Doogat tonight. Deciding that he and his ear could take it, Po pursued his line of questioning firmly. «Doogat—I'm not a total ass you know. I got eyes. Come on,» he said squatting beside the Mayanabi, «even masters need friends. Talk to me.» Doogat rested his head against the bathroom wall, his dark eyes shut. «It's a very long story, Po,» he whispered. «Your stories are always long, Master Doogat. And I got all night.» Doogat opened his eyes slowly, genuinely touched by Po's unexpected concern for him. He smiled at the little thief through his tears. «You know, Po—you might make eighth rank yet.» Po scowled at Doogat. «Don't change the subject.» Doogat chuckled. « All right,» he whispered, his voice hoarse. «The problem is very simple, Po—I'm in love with the woman who ripped up your right hand.» There was a short silence. Po cleared his throat. «Simple,» he said drily. «Interesting use of the word, Master Doogat.» Doogat smiled, wiping the tears off his face with the sleeve of his blue robe. «As I'm always telling you, Po—things are not what they seem on the surface. Someday, you may consider the scar across your knuckles an honor. Proof, as it were, of your direct contact with the divine.» Po took a deep breath. «I doubt it.» Doogat was silent. «I wonder,» he said finally, «what would you do if you came face-to-face with a Greatkin?» «Run like Neath.» Doogat smiled. «What do you think the others would do?» Po cocked his head. «This a test?» Doogat shook his head. «No. I'm just curious to hear your opinion.» «Well, that's a first,» grumbled the little thief. Then, sitting down beside Doogat, the Asilliwir contemplated each member of the household. «Okay,» he said, «I think it would go this way. I think Barlimo would take it in stride. She's a funny one, that Jinn. Nothing ever seems to unseat her. You may be the owner of the 'K,' Master Doogat—but you and I both know who really runs the place. And we're a pretty rowdy bunch of people to deal with on a daily basis. So I don't think a Greatkin would do much more than cause Barlimo to smile. She told me once that her life was touched by grace—that's why she insists on saying it at every meal.» Doogat nodded. «She told me that, too.» Po pursed his lips. «Let's see—Timmer. That's a rough one. Her music is very, very inspired—I mean, the stuff she writes and won't play for anyone. I caught her out in the studio one day, singing her heart out to the Presence. Greatkin, she was pissed. It was like I had caught her having sex or something.» Doogat raised an eyebrow. «Was she singing to a particular Face of the Presence?» Po nodded. «Yeah. Jinndaven—the Greatkin of Imagination. It wasn't a petition or anything like that. She was just singing his praises. I think she'd just written a song that had popped out right on the first try. And she was thankful for the inspiration. Anyway, I'm not sure what Timmer would do is she suddenly found herself in the company of an actual Greatkin.» Po grinned. «Course, if it was Jinndaven—she'd probably invite him to her bed. But I digress.» Doogat smiled. Podiddley scratched his dirty earlobe. «Now, Janusin—I think Janusin would go all to pieces. The way he's worked on that Trickster statue day and night—talk about pure out and out devotion to his craft. Or perhaps even to Trickster himself. I know I wouldn't have worked on that statue like that.» Doogat chuckled, agreeing. «Hard work isn't exactly your most intimate friend, Po.» Podiddley scowled at Doogat. «That's not the reason I wouldn't have worked on the statue. I wouldn't have worked on it because it wears Cobeth's face. And if I had loved Cobeth as much as Janusin did, I wouldn't have had the heart to complete the fucking piece. But Janusin did. He finished it despite his grief. And it's not even a half-assed job, you know. I mean, Jan's so good he could've done a half-assed job, and the Great Library would've bought the statue anyway. Cobeth's a jerk for ever leaving Jan.» «I don't think Cobeth wants to be a sculptor, Po.» Po shrugged. «Yeah—that's how Janusin explains it, too. But just learning the craft isn't the whole picture, see. Janusin had other things to teach besides the right placement of a chisel.» «Like what?» «Oh—devotion. Commitment.» Po averted his eyes suddenly from Doogat's intense gaze. «The kind of shit you're always trying to teach me, Master Doogat.» He coughed, adding, «Anyway, I think Janusin would start bawling like a baby in the presence of a Greatkin. He'd probably change gender a lot, frost his hair, and start sketching like mad.» «Sketching?» «Sure. The face of the Greatkin—for his next statue.» Po started to pick his nose, but Doogat interrupted him with a handful of privy paper. «Disgusting habit, Po.» The little thief glared at Doogat. «Hey—I wasn't planning to eat it. At least not with you sitting here,» he added impishly. He blew his nose with great fanfare. Doogat rolled his eyes, thinking how much Po reminded him of Trickster at this moment—with a difference; Trickster would have eaten the contents of his nose. With great lip smacking and delight, no doubt. Po cleared phlegm out of his throat and spat into the nearby privy. Then he continued with his evaluation of the Kaleidicopia's reaction to discovering a Greatkin in its midst. «Rowenaster. Shit—he'd probably have a heart attack, Doogs. And go out smiling. The old professor's loved the Greatkin all his life, I think. How else could he stand to teach first year students for fifty years? I mean, first year students are nice and all—but let's face it, Doogs, Rowen's an intellectual genius, and not one of those students can keep up with him. Not one. So he's got to be teaching for some other reason. I think it's out of love for the Greatkin.» Doogat nodded. «Yes.» Po licked his lips, counting off the house members on his fingers. «Let's see—did I miss anyone? Oh, yeah. Treesonovohn.» Po winced. «Boy, that's a hard one. Tree's a weird sort of fellow. Even for a Jinn. Tell you the truth, Doogs—I think Tree would handle it the worst. I think he'd come undone. He's funny around surprises—he doesn't like them much. Must be because of that accident in Jinnjirri—the one where everyone in his family got swallowed up by an earthquake. Everyone except him, of course. He told me he climbed a tree during the shift—that's why he looks like one. Kind of an homage to the one that saved his life. Anyway, I think Tree would be scared to death.» Po paused. «On the other hand, Tree has been different recently. Ever since Mab got better. In fact,» added the little thief, «in some ways, everyone's been different recently.» «How so?» asked Doogat, starting to feel a little calmer. Po shrugged. «I'm not sure. This is going to sound crazy, I suppose, but it's almost like we've all been waiting for something to happen. And now it is—something, I mean.» Po shrugged, running his grimy hands through his unkempt hair—what there was of it. «But see, I don't know what the 'something' is. Maybe it's the Trickster's Hallows. Maybe we've all been a little tense, and now that the thing is almost upon us, we can afford to relax. Except I don't remember it being like this last year.» Po shrugged. «Janusin should've had an all-out Jinnjirri fireworks display of temper at the table tonight. And he didn't.» Doogat frowned. «What're you talking about?» «Oh, yeah—you were outside when it happened. Well, seems that old biddy who visited her this afternoon made off with Janusin's invitations to the party. You remember how edgy he was when the hag kept fingering them in the kitchen? I mean, wouldn't you expect Jan to blow up when he found out they were missing?» Doogat inclined his head. «Yes. I wonder why he didn't?» «I asked him that very question.» «And?» «And he said it was in Rimble's hands. Weird, huh?» Doogat said nothing. Something about this interested him—something about the synchronicity of Janusin's relaxed response occurring at the same time he was talking to Kelandris outside in the street. Could it be that she really was going to turn after all? Doogat's heart filled with a wild hope, his previous mood of despondency slowly lifting. He regarded Po with undisguised affection, thanking the presence in silence for Po's unwitting reassurance. The little thief squirmed under Doogat's steady gaze. Then Po said, «That only leaves Mabinhil. Oddly enough, Doogs—I think she'd be overjoyed to see a Greatkin. I don't even think she'd cry—except maybe from happiness. I don't know what you did to her back at your place, but she's really different. I mean, I know you said you were just telling her bedtime stories every night, but I think maybe you might have been doing something more. Some kind of healing thing.» Doogat smiled. «It's very possible,» he agreed cryptically. Po rolled his eyes. «So did I pass?» «Pass what?» «The test?» Doogat gave the little thief a hug. «Yes, Po—you did. Welcome to seventh rank, thirtieth degree.» Po stared at Doogat. «Uh—Doogs—now don't get me wrong, but aren't you skipping a bunch there?» «Am I?» asked Doogat with a gentle smile. «You would've been seventh rank long ago, Po, except for one thing—your own spiritual ambition. As you progress in rank through the Mayanabi Order, you are given a certain amount of power—and with that power comes responsibility. Until tonight, you had not demonstrated to me that you were willing to serve anyone but yourself. I could not let you advance until you gave without thought of reward—O My Thief,» he added formally. «Oh,» said Podiddley, his face scarlet with embarrassment. «Well—uh—thanks, Doogs. I mean for the new rank.» «Yes, but don't let it go to your head, will you?» said Doogat drily. Po swallowed. «Yessir. What I mean is—I'll try not to. Well, you know how I am.» Doogat nodded, and sighed. Chapter Thirty-Nine The next day, as Janusin and Timmer wheeled the statue of Greatkin Rimble out of the studio toward the brick patio behind the Kaleidicopia. Timmer asked Janusin to stop. She inclined her head, listening intently. She scanned the row of hedge between the property of the main house and its private stable. Janusin watched Timmer for a moment, frowning. «What is it?» asked the sculptor impatiently. The Trickster's Hallows would begin in less than three hours, and he still had some last minute stitching to do on his lavender costume. He wiped sweat off his brow. «Timmer—come on. I want to get this statue in place.» Timmer ignored him, walking toward the bushes. She knelt down. The startled cry of a hurt dog soon followed. Janusin forgot his hurry and went to investigate. Timmer looked up as Janusin came up behind her. «Looks like a stray—maybe a year old at best,» said Timmer. Janusin peered into the hedge. Before him lay a medium-sized hound with brindle markings, ugly ears, and pied eyes—one yellow, one black. The dog was panting heavily and seemed to be protecting her left front paw. «Careful he—oops—she doesn't bite you, Timmer,» said Janusin as the bitch showed her teeth when Timmer tried to examine the hurt leg. Timmer nodded. «Aunt's a healer—think she's any good with animals?» «I'll go ask.» While Janusin ducked inside the Kaleidicopia, Timmer soothed the dog with a gentle song. The dog's ears pricked up. The bitch made a feeble attempt to wag her striped tail. Timmer smiled at the dog, her eyes drifting toward the statue of Trickster. Having nothing better to do, Timmer talked to the dog about the upcoming party. «Your timing sucks the royal,» she informed the bitch. «We're having a huge party here tonight. So, where are we going to put you? The stables will be filled to bursting, as well as every guest room in the house. And I don't dare put you in the library or the greenhouse. Pups like you eat books and dig holes. And there'll be nothing but strange people about, dog—which'll just make you nervous.» Timmer pursed her lips. «We don't want you to bite someone—assuming that we even get you into the house without you sampling one of us first.» The dog started panting again. Someone laughed behind Timmer. The Dunnsung musician looked up to find Aunt standing a few feet from her. Janusin, Mab, and Tree followed closely. Timmer frowned at Aunt. «What're you laughing at?» Aunt knelt beside Timmer. «This dog smiles when she pants. Look at the upturn of her lips. I've never seen anything like it.» Aunt reached toward the brindle hound. «Careful—» Timmer started to say. The dog did not growl this time. Aunt lifted the dog's injured paw, feeling it expertly. The dog whimpered but did not resist the examination. Timmer was impressed at Aunt's skill and said so. The Jinnjirri healer smiled. «Truth is, I'm more partial to animals than I am to two-leggeds. But the Presence seems to send me mostly two-leggeds to help. This bitch is a welcome change.» The dog's tail wagged. Aunt smiled at the brindle stray. «Look at those wild eyes. Maybe we should call you Pi, eh? Short for pied? How would you like that?» Aunt asked the dog. Trickster—for of course it was Trickster—wagged her tail with more enthusiasm. «Pi it is,» said Timmer. «Okay,» said Aunt, slipping her hands under the fifty-pound body of the stray and lifting her carefully. Glancing at Janusin and Tree, Aunt said, «You Jinnjirri gents finish putting the statue in place. Timmer, you go and make a strong poultice of green patchou bark and sirridian. There's a jar of each in the pantry—Barl gave me the grand tour yesterday. Mab, honey, you fetch that stinking bottle of black antiseptic.» Mab's eyes widened. «Hope this mutt's not rabid. Aunt. She'll for sure bite you when you put that stinging stuff on her paw.» «Let's act positive, shall we?» replied Aunt with more confidence than she actually felt. Working with animals was always a risk, and Aunt had endured her share of bites, kicks, and scratches in her time. The Jinnjirri eyed Trickster and whispered, «I want to have a good time at this party tonight, old girl—so I'd appreciate it if you didn't reward my efforts to help you with a nip or worse, hm