"Very good, Null," Weft said. "Now let's try a large tune." She took back the dulcimer, donned all ten finger hammers, and played and sang the song "Caterpillar." Once.
Then she returned the dulcimer to the child, and put all the finger hammers on her, tightening them so they would not fall off. "Your turn, Null."
The child smiled. She sang and played the song perfectly. Her voice was not refined, but her fingers fairly flew, and she never missed a note.
It wasn't just the way she did it, it was her evident confidence and joy of performance. This was completely natural to her.
Weft addressed the parents, who remained dumbfounded. "Your child is not retarded. She is merely oriented on music, with a natural talent that eclipses that of any normal person. Who do you know, of any age, who could have done this perfectly the first time?"
"None," Weave breathed.
"You?" Weaver asked.
Weft laughed. "Even I had to learn, though it did come readily. Music is only one of my interests. But it is Null's whole life. All she needs is your support and encouragement."
"She will have it," Weaver said firmly.
"I will find her a dulcimer, though she can probably play any instrument she sees and hears. She will be a minstrel, perhaps traveling in other Chroma where her magic will not be an issue. For now, she will borrow mine."
They just nodded, stunned.
It was time for the show. "We will show the villagers," Weft said, taking Null's hand. "I think they will want to rename her."
She led the child outside, and to the village square, where the others were assembling. The children were seated close, and the adults in a larger formation outside them, in the normal manner. It was a formidable red array. Ikon was there, waiting to join her.
"Favor," she murmured to him. "I need you to be a caterpillar. Crawl across the stage. I will clothe you in suitable illusion."
He didn't hesitate. "Amenable."
"On my signal."
Weft stepped the middle of the square, leading Null. "Greeting, Villagers of Chaste," she said.
"Greeting, Minstrel!" the children chorused back.
"I am Weft, the King's daughter. This is Ikon, my assistant. We will sing for you today." She paused. "But first one of your own will do a song. You have known her as Null."
She set Null on the ground, and put the hammers on her fingers while the villagers watched, uncertain what to expect. They knew Null only as a magic-disabled child, an embarrassment to her family.
Weft set the dulcimer before her. "Caterpillar," she said.
Immediately the child sang and played, her voice better than before, remembering it perfectly.
Her fingers touched every note without hesitation or error.
Jaws dropped.
Weft nudged Ikon. He dropped to the ground and wriggled in front of the child. Weft projected illusion to make him resemble a huge red caterpillar. The children exclaimed with delight.
As Null finished, Ikon crawled up to her. She saw him, and lifted a hand to pat him on the head.
The entire village broke into applause.
The illusion faded, and Ikon was revealed. He stood and dusted himself off, to general laughter.
He bowed, and put fingers up beside his head, like caterpillar feelers.
Weft liked that. He had joined the game, and done it well. This was a good quality for a minstrel.
Weft took back her instrument and hammers and gave them to Ikon to hold. Then she picked Null up. "I think this little girl is not properly named," she said. "Do you have a better one for her?"
"Caterpillar!" a child cried.
Weft had been looking for something related to music. But immediately all the other children chorused. "Caterpillar!"
Well, it was not intended negatively. It would be her theme song. The child was clearly pleased with it.
Weft carried her back to her parents, who stood at the edge of the square. "I return Caterpillar to you," she said gravely as Weave took her.
"Appreciation!" Weave breathed, tears flowing down her face. They went on to sing 'John Riley,' with Ikon playing his musical sticks, impressing the villagers. She sang her lines:
Then Ikon sang again:
He did so, making them politely mannered, as was appropriate for a moral audience. Still, she was a very pretty woman and he a handsome man; there was a murmur of appreciation from the girls of Chaste. They might be moral, but they were also romantic.
And her turn for the final stanza:
Hand in hand, they walked off the stage to solid applause. Their show wasn't over, of course, just the little song and act. But Weft realized that her course had clarified: she was indeed satisfied to go with Ikon, if not to Pennsylvany, then to association, bed, and perhaps even love. He was a robot, sent by the enemy, true. He was also her kind of man.
Chapter 17 Twins
"Request for you, Warp," Ennui said. "The Coalition wants the Twins to contribute their space fleet to the joint effort. They are reluctant. How are you at persuasion?"
"I persuaded Marionette to marry me, as of the end of this campaign."
Ennui's mouth quirked. "Or did she persuade you? When it comes to putty, you are the ultimate in her hands."
"Whatever," he agreed, not arguing the point. Marionette was some woman, not a Glamor, but a living ikon, so she had some Glamor-like features. Apart from that, she was lovely, smart, talented, experienced, and principled.
"Not to mention extremely competent sexually," Ennui said, reading his thoughts, which he had not tried to conceal. Ennui had always been like a grandmother to the siblings, and they trusted her absolutely. She was mortal, but had no awe of the Glamors, and they all respected her. "She can actually keep up with you, when she tries."
This, too, was valid. But irrelevant to the subject at hand. "My limited experience with the Earth fleet is what qualifies me for this mission?"
"Voila says the mission needs a virile Glamor. For some reason, you came to mind."
"Voila always was a little bitch." He shrugged. "Coordinates?"
"Marionette has them, and your ikon."
"As if I ever had a choice," he muttered, and conjured himself to his fiancee's bower.
She was expecting him, sitting nude on the bed. "I understand that all the folk of Twins are twins," she said.