"I can't help it, Gaby. I can't make it fit around anything I believe in. You're like... the mysterious spirit in a fairy tale. You speak in riddles. I never understood why the spirits in those stories couldn't just come out with it. Why all the dire warnings, and the fragments and hints about things that are so dreadfully important?"
"Cirocco, my only love ... nobody wants to help you more than I do. If I could, I'd tell you everything I know, from point A right through to point Z, just like a NASA debriefing. I can't do that. There is a very good reason why I can't ... and I can't tell you that reason."
"Can't you hint at it?"
Gaby's eyes got very distant.
"Ask your questions quickly."
"Uh ... Gaea watches you?"
"No. She watches for me."
Christ, Cirocco thought. It's all or nothing, but stop complaining.
"Does she know you ... come to me?"
"No. Hurry, I can't do this much longer."
"Is there a way to ... "
"To defeat her? Yes. Reject the obvious answers. You must ... "
She stopped, and began to fade away. But her eyes were squeezed shut and her fists were clenched at her temples, and her image began to strengthen again. Cirocco felt the short hairs standing up on the back of her neck.
"It's better if you don't ask questions. Or not too many. Since she got Adam, her attention is with him most of the time."
Gaby rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, blinked, then leaned back on her arms and stretched her feet out. It was only then Cirocco saw the fire was out. Not only out, but long dead, nothing but crumbling ashes. Gaby moved her heels through the ashes.
"If not for her madness, Gaea would be invulnerable. There would be nothing you could do. But, because she is mad, she takes chances. Because she is mad, she approaches reality as a game.
"She operates by rules. The rule book came from her old movies, and from television, and from fairy stories and myths.
"The most important thing you must realize is that she is not the good guy. She knows this, and prefers it that way. Does that suggest anything to you?"
Cirocco was sure it ought to, but had been so intent on listening that the question surprised her. She frowned, chewed on her lips, and hoped she didn't sound like a fool.
"... the good guys always win," she said.
"Exactly. Which doesn't mean you are going to win, because it hasn't yet been established, by her rules, that you are the good guys. If you lose, it would be at least two decades before another challenger could arise."
"Are you talking about Adam?" Cirocco asked.
"Yes. He is the next possible hero. Gaea has him waiting in the wings, ready for you to stumble. But his task would be horribly difficult. She plans to make him love her. He would first have to fight that, before he could get around to fighting Gaea. That's why Chris was permitted to live. He will function as Adam's conscience. But Gaea will kill him when Adam is six or seven years old. That, too, is part of the game."
They were silent for a time, as Cirocco digested it all. She felt a deep urge to protest, but she swallowed it. She remembered her words to Conal. You expected a fair fight?
"So far, you're going at it the wrong way. You have been given powers that you don't seem to wish to acknowledge. You accept the physical powers easily enough, but the others are stronger."
Gaby began to list things on her fingers.
"You have many more allies than Gaea. There are those above, and those below. Some will come to your aid when you least expect it. You have a spy in the enemy camp. Use Snitch, and trust what he has to say.
"You have a guardian angel, of sorts." Gaby grinned, and jerked a thumb toward her chest. "Me. I will do all I can to stack the outcome in your favor. I'll tell you all I can... but don't expect timely warnings. Rely on me for deep background. Think of me as a mole."
Gaby waited while Cirocco absorbed that.
"Remember, it's better to wait until you feel right about it than to rush into something. Now. If you would ... touch me-" Gaby coughed and looked away, and Cirocco realized she was close to tears. She started to get up.
"No, no, you stay there. Nothing sexy, nothing like that. But I can maintain contact with you a bit longer if we touch. Just move forward a little."
Cirocco did, until her bare feet were in the ashes with Gaby's. Gaby sat with her chin on her knees, and they held hands, and she told Cirocco a story.
FIVE
Robin watched Conal get up, open the door, and leave.
Rather abrupt, she thought, but she hadn't asked for anything else. They had used each other for their own purposes. Still, he could have said good-bye.
Then he was back, carrying the old jacket he had worn when they'd met him in Bellinzona, and which he had been wearing less and less in the days since the kidnapping of Adam. He rooted around in one of the pockets and came up with a long, fat cigar, the kind he had smoked constantly before and seldom did now. Come to think of it, he had gone through a lot of changes from the time she had first met him.
"Can I have one of those?" Robin asked.
Conal had clamped his in his teeth and now he gave her a sideways look. But he took another from his pocket and tossed it to her.
"You're not gonna like that," he said, as he sat on the bed and leaned back against the gigantic pillows heaped against the headboard.
"They smell good," Robin said. "I always liked the smell."
"Smelling 'em's one thing, smoking 'em's another." He bit the end off his, so she followed suit, then he struck a match and took a long time getting it going. The air filled with bluish, aromatic smoke. "Just whatever you do, don't inhale it," he said, and held a match for her.
She sucked on the bitten-off end, and in a few seconds she was coughing. He took the cigar from her and patted her on the back until her breath returned, then ground hers out in an ashtray.
"Pretty foul, huh?" he said.
"Maybe I can just take a few puffs on yours."
"Anything you want, Robin. You're calling the shots."
"Am I?"
He turned and looked at her, and she was surprised to see he was nervous and apologetic.
"Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't do better. I tried, honest, but after a while there's not much I can do but-"
"What are you talking about? You did fine."
His eyes narrowed.
"But you didn't come."
"Conal, Conal ... " She turned and put an arm over his chest and a leg over his loins, and snuggled fiercely into the hollow of his neck. She spoke into his ear.
"I never expected to. Think back. Did I seem to be enjoying myself?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"Then you did fine. I didn't expect an orgasm. Frankly, I still don't see how it's possible, that way. The design of the bodies is all wrong. The act doesn't seem designed to satisfy the female."
"It can," he said. "Take my word for it. You just have to get used to it, that's all. And I have to learn ... "
He trailed off, and they searched each other's eyes. He gave a fatalistic shrug and leaned back against the pillows. Robin did the same.
It was a hot day. Both of their bodies gleamed with sweat. Robin felt great. There was a boneless warmth in her that made her body hum. It had been so long since she had felt it. She put her hands behind her head and looked down at herself, and at him. Moving one of her bare feet to touch his leg, she compared her foot with his. So different, yet the same basic design. It was the same with the legs. Then the loins, so totally different. Her compact, tidy arrangement, his ... flamboyant, exuberant, external softnesses, lying there smug and exhausted and damp from her.
She never had found it ugly, even when erect. It looked so vulnerable-and was, as she had learned long ago during an unfortunate episode with Chris.
She tried to imagine her head sitting where his was. What would it be like, to look at oneself and see that? Try as she might, she could go no further than the fear she thought he must always feel. She felt she would have to walk crouched over, eternally alert for an attack, pitifully exposed. His was a nakedness she could never feel. She thanked the Great Mother she had been blessed to be born a woman.