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, hmm?» The dog's lips curled back into a smile. Aunt, Mab, and Timmer walked slowly back toward the Kaleidicopia, Trickster nestled in Aunt's strong arms. Tree and Janusin watched the women disappear into the house. Tree sighed. «Shit,» he muttered. «I think we've just been adopted.» «If Barlimo says it's okay,» replied Janusin, crossing the grass toward the statue of Greatkin Rimble. «Come on, Tree. Let's put this fellow where he belongs.» «In full view of the city street?» asked Tree drily. «Cobeth will love this. He'll take it as a compliment. Can't wait until he's installed in the park at the Great Library. Cobeth will become legend then,» added Tree with a sour smile. «Why you had to use his face for a model, I'll never understand.» Janusin shrugged. «The ways of the artist are inscrutable.» «Not to mention those of Trickster himself,» retorted Tree, recalling his encounter with Kelandris three days earlier. «You know—by having a Rimble's Revel, I think we sort of invite Trickster into our midst—if you know what I mean.» Janusin nodded, sighing deeply. «Working on this statue has been more trouble than you can imagine, Tree. There were some mornings when I could hardly bring myself to sculpt it. And not because of Cobeth, either.» «Why, then?» asked Tree starting to push the statue. Janusin shrugged. «Rowen talked to me about it once. He says that whatever Greatkin his class studies, the force or the patronage of that Greatkin enters into his life and that of all his students. So if it's Phebene or something, everyone starts having torrid love affairs. When it's Trickster—nothing goes according to plan.» Janusin paused. «That's how it's been with this statue. And some mornings, I needed for things to go according to plan. And of course they never did. Trickster's a bitch of an archetype to work for,» he added, wheeling the statue into place in the center of the brick patio. «Funny,» said Tree wryly, patting the erect penis on the black marble from Tamirring, «I would've said Trickster's a prick.» Guests began arriving as much as two hours ahead of time. Barlimo swore as the doorbell rang for the third time in fifteen minutes. She told Rowenaster to answer it, as she was not yet done with food preparations in the kitchen. Janusin stopped in briefly to sample the punch that Fasilla was making. As the sculptor poured himself a ladleful of orange and pommin juice, Barlimo paused from cutting brown bread. «Jan—do you realize those invitations must've traveled as far as three counties? There's people coming from outside the city to this thing. And they all have an invitation in hand.» Fasilla looked up. «Yafatah says Old Jamilla do be a Mayanabi Nomad. This means, she do travel far and wee.» Janusin complimented Fasilla on her punch and turned now to Barlimo. «Well—like I said. It's in Rimble's hands. Should be interesting to see who turns up.» «Yes,» said Doogat, coming into the room. He had just been thinking about Kelandris and was again wondering if she would indeed come. He refused to think of the consequences if she didn't. «Hey,» said Po, walking out of the pantry, his arms laden with cheeses. «Doogs—you're not in costume.» Doogat looked over his shoulder. «Neither are you.» «But I will be,» said Po, beaming. «Mine's a surprise.» Barlimo nodded. «I think I'm going to be sick of that word 'surprise' by the end of this evening.» She backed away from the bread. «This bread's not cooked all the way through. And that, my friends, is impossible.» «Rimble-Rimble,» said Rowenaster as he also dropped in to sample the punch. «Mmm—sweet. Very nice, Fas. Very nice.» He wiped his lips and asked, «Where's Yafatah?» Fasilla shrugged. «She's not speaking to me at the moment.» «I see,» said Rowenaster. «Sorry.» «Doon't be,» replied Fasilla evenly. «The child do be going through fierce bad times—that be all. It be her age.» Po dumped his load of cheese on the cluttered kitchen table, making everyone jump. He started to unwrap one of the yellow bricks, but Barlimo stopped him. She wagged a finger in the little thief's face, saying, «Wash you hands.» Po gave her a disgusted look and went to the sink. As he turned on the water, he looked back over his shoulder and said, «So, Doogs—how come you're not in costume. Aren't you coming to our little carnival?» «No.» All motion and conversation in the kitchen came to a full stop. Rowenaster was the first to speak. «You're not coming? You said you thought that woman in black might show up. What're we to do if she does?» «You'll know.» Barlimo said nothing. She was the only one of Rimble's Nine who knew that Doogat was in fact Zendrak. She did not know, however, that Zendrak was Trickster's son. Barlimo intentionally dropped a pan on the floor. The attention shifted to her. As it did so, Doogat smiled at her and ducked out of the kitchen. Rowenaster turned back to speak to Doogat. «Where'd he go?» The front door to the Kaleidicopia slammed. Doogat stood for a moment on the front porch of the Kaleidicopia. His Mythrrim senses told him that Kelandris hid nearby. Doogat had come and gone from the house freely for the past three days. The fact that Kelandris had not approached him during this time did not bode well. Doogat stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was imperative that Kelandris recognize him as Zendrak while he still wore Doogat's «face.» Kelandris must not be unconscious when she turned tonight—if she turned tonight, he reminded himself sourly. He shut his eyes wearily, his head bowed. Kelandris was strong, stubborn, and committed to survival—her own. What else did he need to do to convince the woman in black that more was at stake here than her personal pain and grief? Would she ever stop wearing the clothes of mourning? Doogat swore softly. He was angry with Kelandris now. Very. The woman's narcissism was beyond belief. If she had been a mere mortal, he would've been more sympathetic toward her. But Kelandris of Suxonli was Trickster's daughter. And my sister, thought Doogat. He scowled,