Squeeze, squeeze.
The ring had always been right. She had tested it many times, idly. She believed it. It was better to make a clean break now and do what she had to do.
"Tinka, the time has come," she said. "I must leave Orlene with you, but you cannot keep her. You must give her for adoption to some well-to-do tourist family who will be able to care for her properly."
"But I would not know who—" Tinka protested. "I can not even speak their language!" For they were speaking Calo.
Orb removed the magic ring. "Wear this. It will guide you: one squeeze for yes, two for no. When it tells you the family is right, give them the baby."
The ring came to life, and the little snake raised its head and looked at her.
"Something else to tell me?" Orb put a finger down, and the snake coiled about it. "What am I forgetting? Something else I must tell Tinka?"
Squeeze.
"To help Orlene?"
Squeeze.
"My amulet! I'll put it on her, to protect her!"
Squeeze, squeeze.
"Then—?"
Squeeze.
"Then you? Give her you?"
Squeeze.
Suddenly it made sense. "You will remain with Orlene and guide her throughout her life?"
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. "Or at least until she grows up and can make her own decisions?"
Squeeze.
"Yes, of course. I know you will do what is right."
Squeeze.
Then she removed the ring again and gave it to Tinka. "When you find the right family, put this ring on Orlene's finger. It will fit."
The girl nodded.
"And for you, for the time when you have your own baby—" Orb brought out her ruby. "This will make you rich. Your husband is an honorable man? I mean, he wouldn't cheat you?"
Tinka nodded again. "Then get his help when you need to market this." Orb put the gem into the girl's hand, then impulsively hugged her. "I fear I will never see you again. I love you, Tinka."
Then the Gypsy girl began to cry, and Orb wept with her. But what had to be had to be, and in due course Orb departed, riding her carpet to the nearest airport, where she took an airplane home.
Pacian was indeed dying. Niobe greeted her tearfully. "Oh, Orb, I'm so glad you came home now! How did you know?"
"I had a ring that advised me," Orb explained. "It couldn't see my future, but it could see those who associate with me. I'm sorry I stayed away so long—"
"You're adult now; you have your own life. But this—"
It was bad, but Orb was glad she had come home. It would have been so much worse if her father had died in her absence. The ring had warned her truly.
She put her hand on his arm, and sent him her music, and felt his own rise in response. "Remember when you told me of the Song of the Morning," she said.
"Go find your song, Orb," he replied. Then they held hands and the music intensified, until he lost power and had to sleep.
Two days later he died. Orb handled most of the arrangements, sparing her mother that.
But after the wake and burial, Orb had no inclination to remain. Niobe was able to handle the tree farm, and Orb did indeed have her own life to make. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother, for she did; it was that the happy years of their family existence, with Luna really a part of it, were over, and that was all too obvious.
"Perhaps you should go visit Luna," Niobe said, as if reading her thoughts. "You could go on tour in America...." For of course Orb had written home often, advising her family of her location. She had omitted a certain key detail of her past year, not from any desire to deceive her mother, but because she simply hadn't known how to cope with the fact of an illegitimate baby. One day she would tell her mother, but not right now, not when there was grief enough already.
"I will visit Luna, and see about an American tour," she agreed. Indeed, the notion appealed to her, for Luna was her closest companion and friend.
But first she visited her old friend the hamadryad. She approached the old oak tree in the swamp and called out, but the dryad would not come down.
"But it's me. Orb!" she cried. "Don't you know me?"
"You have lost your innocence," the dryad called from the branches.
Orb realized it was true. She had loved a man, and borne a child, and given it away; what innocence remained to her? Suddenly she was overwhelmed by that loss, not realizing how she had valued it until this moment. She sank down to the ground and wept.
Then the hamadryad came down and touched her momentarily. "It is the fate of mortal women," she said. "My kind can never know it."
Orb looked up, and the dryad was crying, too, for the loss she could never sustain. Orb reached out to her, but there seemed to be a barrier between them, and they were unable to touch.
"But can't we still be friends?" Orb asked.
"From a distance," the dryad agreed.
That seemed to be the best that could be salvaged from a mixed situation. Orb blew her friend a kiss and returned to her own kind. The things of wild magic seemed inevitably to retreat as a person became older and more experienced. That was indeed something worth crying about.
Chapter 7 - LIVIN'SLUDGE
Actually it was some time, a year or more, before she made the trip to America. She had wanted to go immediately, but had not felt free to desert her mother right after Pace's death, and then there had been requests for her music locally, and one thing led to another, the time frittering away. Then news had come of the Magician's death, and that shocked her into action, so that she completed her commitments in good order and made the trip at last. Perhaps, she thought, she simply hadn't wanted to let go of the last hope that her old life could be restored.
Luna lived in Kilvarough, the town that had imported the famous Irish ghost, Molly Malone. Orb mostly tuned out the journey across the wide sea, trying to focus on the future to avoid focusing on the past, and not succeeding any better than she usually did. Mym, Tinka, Orlene, Niobe, the hamadryad—all of these memories were painful because she knew she could never again know them as she had experienced them before.
But as she drew near, the thought of reuniting with Luna cheered her increasingly. With Luna, she knew, she could truly share, because of their closeness and the mutual spells of protection and immunity to having their futures read. The Magician, Luna's father, had gone to a lot of trouble to cloud their futures; now she wondered why. She also wondered about the news that Luna was dating Thanatos, the Incarnation of Death; that sounded grim indeed, and perhaps was one of the considerations that had contributed to Orb's delay. No, that dating had begun after the Magician's death; she was getting things confused.
Still, she remembered the old prophecy, dating from before their births: that Luna might marry Death, and Orb might marry Evil. Nonsense, of course; surely a Gypsy fortune telling, and though the Gypsies, as she well knew, could prophecy with the best, they tended to slough off when the matter was not important. Probably someone had made up something dramatic for the benefit of what she took to be a gullible tourist, and later the Magician, annoyed by that, had banned any further predictions. Certainly Orb had never had any truck with evil, and never would! Still, if Luna was actually doing it...
Luna met her at the airport. At first Orb didn't recognize her. Then, shocked, she exclaimed: "Luna! What have you done with your hair?" For Luna's clover-honey tresses had changed to chestnut brown, completely transforming her appearance. She was still beautiful, but different.
"Father made me do it," Luna said. "He wouldn't say why. But this is the way it must be for the rest of my life."
"What an odd thing! And is it true that you are—?"
"Taking up with Death?" Luna laughed. She was obviously in excellent health, not likely to die at all soon. "Yes, it is true; you'll meet him soon enough."
They took a taxi carpet to Luna's residence, which was an elegant mini-estate, fenced in, guarded by two lean and hungry griffins. They cha
rged up as the carpet drew close, half-spreading their wings, but relaxed when they recognized Luna. She paid the carpenter, and the two of them entered the iron gate.
Orb was a bit nervous about the griffins, but Luna merely introduced her to them, and that was sufficient. It was evident that they attacked only strangers.
The interior of the house was very nice. "Oh, you are painting again!" Orb exclaimed, recognizing the pictures on the walls.
"It's one way of easing the loneliness since my father died," Luna said.
"How—if I may ask—?"
"He arranged it so that Thanatos would have to collect him personally, and then he offered me to Thanatos."
"He what!"
"He wanted me to be friends with the Incarnation of Death," Luna said, as if this were routine. "I didn't understand at first, but later I did. It seems that I am to have an important role in a confrontation between God and Satan about twenty years hence, so Satan naturally wishes to eliminate me before then, and only Thanatos can protect me."
"But what a cynical—what a horror!"
Luna shook her head. "No. Thanatos is a decent man. I have asked him to visit later today, so you can meet him."
"So you—you are satisfied to associate with Death?" Orb asked, accepting this with difficulty.
"I think I would marry him, if that were feasible. But it seems not to be, so we merely associate."
Orb decided not to question that further. She had known Luna well, but wasn't sure how well she knew her now.
"And you," Luna said warmly. "What have you been up to these past three years?"
Orb told her. She found herself hesitant to mention the baby, but also unable to refrain.
"A baby!" Luna exclaimed. "How wonderful!"
"Illegitimate," Orb reminded her. "Given away for adoption."
"A baby!" Luna repeated, as if this were the greatest possible accomplishment!
"Niobe doesn't know."
"I'll say nothing. But how wonderful to have had the experience!"
Orb realized that Luna faced slight prospect of having a family. Viewed that way, it was indeed a lucky thing to have done. Pressed by Luna, Orb described the baby in detail, and it did seem to make the burden of the loss easier to live with.
They had a meal, still talking, catching up on things, and it was generally wonderful. They had been so close for so many years, almost like twins, and it was good to be close now. Every so often they laughed for inadequate reason, cried for similar reason, and hugged each other, girls again.
Then Thanatos arrived. He was a black-cloaked figure whose face was a skull and whose hands were bones. Orb was awed—but then he laid back his grim hood and manifested as an ordinary young man, quite flesh and blood. "But he really is the Incarnation of Death," Luna reminded her. "He collects souls and guides them to their proper destinations, in the difficult cases."
Orb had no comment to make. Thanatos filled in with a question of his own. "I understand you are musical, Orb. Do you plan to perform here?"
"I'm really looking for the Llano," Orb said, still reticent in the presence of this odd figure. "I suppose I might perform, too."
"Perhaps you could travel with a group, as you did in India," Luna said. "One that goes where you want to go."
"I suppose I should," Orb agreed vaguely.
"I encountered a group that might use a competent addition," he said.
"Oh?" Orb found herself interested. Certainly she had to travel, and certainly she didn't want to do it alone. "What group?"
"They call themselves the Livin' Sludge. They started in Miami, but now they accept engagements elsewhere and seem to want to go on a tour, but have some difficulty obtaining suitable bookings."
"No wonder, with a name like that!" Orb exclaimed.
"Groups run to names like that here," Luna advised her gently.
Orb shrugged. "Are they good musicians?"
"I am not a proper judge," Thanatos said. "But when they did a command performance for me, assisted by a girl from a neighboring choir, it was a considerable production. I suspect they wish to duplicate that experience, but are not sure how. They seem competent as performers, but it is magic they seek, and that is harder to achieve."
"I have magic," Orb said.
"So I understand. It is possible that you could be the element they need for the type of success they seek. I should warn you that they have some problems with drugs, which they are trying to eliminate."
"Through music?"
"Would this piece you mention—I am not familiar with it—would it help them?"
"The Llano? I think it would, if they could find it. The Gypsies call it the universal absolver. But if I knew how to find it, I would do so forthwith."
"Then perhaps you could search for it together."
"Perhaps we could!" Orb agreed, abruptly liking the notion. To be with a group that was searching for the same thing she was—that could be wonderful! "Can you put me in touch with them?"
"I can take you to them, if you wish."
Orb had an abrupt second thought. "You say they are addicts? Of what?"
"What they call 'H,' enchanted for greater potency. It isn't really the same kind of thing that is historically known, but a designer drug that emulates heroin, extraordinarily addictive. They believe that the right music can relieve them of the craving. They do not appear to be bad people, merely ones who have fallen into unfortunate habits."
"But heroin! What real hope for reform can there be?"
Thanatos shrugged. "My own balance of evil approached fifty per cent when I attempted suicide, but my new mission has given me strength. I think reform is possible, given the right motivation and circumstance."
"My own evil threatened to overwhelm me," Luna said. "Yet it seems that I am fated to play a key role in the salvation of mankind. I, too, find it necessary to believe that salvation is possible for anyone who really makes the attempt."
Orb had another thought. "You can judge the amount of evil in a person? I mean, not a dead soul?"
"I can," Thanatos agreed.
"I—" Now she found herself shy. "Could you—would you—?"
"Read your balance?" he finished. "This I can do. But I regard it as a private matter. Are you sure you wish it?"
"I have no secrets from Luna. Can you do it here, now?"
"He can," Luna said.
"I'd really like to know."
"As you wish." Thanatos reached into a fold of his cloak and brought forth two cabochons—polished, half-rounded stones. One was light, the other dark.
He brought the light one near Orb, passing it along her body from head to foot at a distance of a few centimeters. It flickered as it moved. With each flicker it became brighter, until at last it shone like a little moon.
Then he used the dark one in the same manner. It, too, flickered, but it became darker as it did so, until it was completely dull, with no shine at all.
Thanatos set the two stones together, and they merged, forming a ball. The flat planes of their bottom sides seemed to curve, forming a yin-yang shape.
He let the ball go. It floated upward, until it threatened to rise out of reach. He reached up and caught it. "Your balance is positive," he said. "But there is a significant amount of evil on your soul. You have done something you should not have."
Luna was silent, not divulging Orb's secret. But Orb decided to reveal it herself. "I had an affair," she said.
Thanatos nodded. "That is evil, by the current definition."
"And I had a baby. Illegitimate."
"That is greater evil. But I think not enough to account for the amount you show."
"I did not tell my mother."
"That accounts for it," he said.
"Do you condemn me for that?" she asked, somehow wanting his acceptance.
"No. I killed my own mother, and Luna deceived her father. We understand these things. But the definitions of good and evil were set up before our time, and they are the ones that prev
ail. It is not necessary for Incarnations to agree with the prevailing rules; it is only necessary for us to implement them. By the old definitions, you have sinned grievously, and your soul is weighted accordingly; by my definition you have sinned only if you caused unnecessary pain to an innocent person. Did you do that?"
"I caused my lover pain, because he had to separate from me."
"Were you the agent of that separation?"
"No."
"Then that sin is not yours, by definition. But my definition is meaningless; I do not make the rules."
"Still, I feel reassured."
"It is reassuring to know Thanatos and to understand him," Luna said.
"Yes. I am coming to understand that." For the man who held the office of Death was evidently a decent person, one it could be possible to love—and Luna did love him. That portion of the prophecy seemed to be true: Luna might marry Death. But the other, that Orb might marry Evil—could this be the start of the shifting of her balance toward total evil? She shuddered.
But perhaps if she found the Llano first, she would be able to avert that horror. That made the search more urgent. "Let's go see the Livin' Sludge," she said abruptly.
"Take her," Luna said to Thanatos.
He nodded. "Mortis is outside."
"Who?" Orb asked.
"His steed," Luna explained. "You'll like Mortis." She seemed amused.
"Oh—a horse." Orb was relieved.
She followed Thanatos out. Evidently Luna was not coming along. Maybe the horse could carry double but not triple. What had Luna found so funny?
A pale sedan was parked nearby. The two griffins lay beside it, almost as if guarding it, unless they liked the company of such machines. Thanatos went to this. He opened the door.
"This car? But Luna said—" Orb was confused. "This is Mortis."
"But—"
Thanatos had drawn his cowl back over his head. The skull-face grinned. "Show her, Mortis."
The car changed. Its wheels stretched down, its hood stretched up, and its body reconvoluted. In a moment the vehicle had become a handsome pale horse.
Orb stared. Then she laughed. No wonder Luna had been amused! She had known about this.