he also has a daughter.”
“Yes.” Trickster remembered a perpetual silhouette in a tent. When she did emerge, the mysterious daughter of Deft Hands hid her face under many layers of cloth. Some children called her “tent face.” “They say she has a sickness that disfigures her and causes great pain.”
“This is the medicine for which Deft Hands trades all his worldly wealth,” Elbadu said. “His daughter is all he has of his wife.”
“Meadow Dancer…she died when I wedded Prudent Song,” Trickster finished the god’s statement.
“Deft Hands will not only forgive all your debt for this medicine, he will consider himself in life-long debt to you,” Elbadu said. “In all mortality, he will never find leaves more potent than these. You will not need to tell him this, however. He will know from the scent. Have you no thanks?”
“Well, of course,” Trickster said. “Only…”
“Only?”
“Did you change my dice to roses anticipating that I would trick Yeves at the end of our race?”
The green man blinked. “Why, no. I can understand why you would think that, however. Since Nath and I lost the race to Yeves, the victor’s rose has been foremost in my thoughts. Especially after I lost the dice roll to you, that old obsession resurfaced.
“You need not worry about the journey home,” Elbadu added. “Deft Hands seems fierce, but he treats all women very kindly. But do not tarry, either, or you may find your daughters are the age of Prudent Song when you first left her. Such is the flow of time for those who wander the gods’ realm aimlessly.”
As Trickster took up the jar that before had been roses and bones before that, Nath flew to his side.
“He wants to come with you. Should I let him?” Elbadu asked. “He might frighten your tribe.”
“No, that would be excellent,” Trickster said. “Nath can protect me from Prudent Song.”
“For now, then, farewell Nath. I hope you enjoy your travels in mortal lands,” Elbadu said.
Trickster was mounting Nath when Elbadu said, “Until we meet again, Trickster. I shall not say goodbye, for I have the feeling this will not be the last time you will meddle in the gods’ affairs.”
Trickster laughed. “Oh, that I could see the face of old Knucklebones. I think he would be proud, yet find it a splendid joke at the same time. No one loved to laugh like old Knucklebones.” Smiling from memories and a future and its undetermined outcomes to look forward to, Trickster waved to Elbadu. Before he was entirely out of earshot, he called down to the green man. “Shall we bet? How long will it be before we meet again?”
“Will you never learn?” Elbadu called up.
“I’m waiting!” Trickster yelled down, turning Nath in a circle.
“All right, Trickster. Four years!”
“Three!” And with that, Trickster let Nath bear him back over the ways that led to mortal lands.
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