Elephant Song

TWENTY-SIX

Little Will sat in Turtlehead's house as the shelled priest held up a paper. "This is the letter of which I spoke, Little Will. I think it may be a clue as to the location of Johnjay. But I cannot be certain."

"Please. Go ahead and read it."

Turtlehead's tiny red eyes scanned the paper as he spoke. "It is from my first apprentice, Noodlebrain.

" 'I am writing this to you from the town of Porse, enroute to Tarzak to learn spieling from Great Motor Mouth, as you instructed. To be frank, I hold little hope that the addition of patter will increase the fees priestly acts receive when performing. It is not that our acts cannot stand improvement. Instead, perhaps it is that the average Moman priest does not have enough grifter in his soul.

" 'For example, as I was returning from Miira to join the other apprentice priests from Arcadia at the Porse Cutoff, I made camp upon the road for the night. There I was joined by Trouble, an exiled magician from Dirak. He is on the road attempting to earn sufficent funds to replace those that he stole, causing his exile. Trouble did not look like he was a very interesting magician, but out of sympathy for his plight, I bought a performance from him for five movills. The trick he did was mildly interesting; however, in turn he purchased nothing from me! Instead he presumed to lecture me on the fundamentals of separating a fool from his coppers!

" 'Whilst this gratuitous palaver was being endured, two fortune tellers—named No One and Tarzaka—entered the camp and exchanged cobit. The one called No One was male and had his face curiously made up in clown white. Tarzaka appeared to be much older than No One; and she remained silent and cross during their entire stay in camp. Both of their robes were torn and soiled from the swamp.

" 'I inquired into No One's strange make up, and learned that his answer would beggar the Great Mootch Movill himself! He wanted a thousand coppers for his answer! My curiosity regarding No One's paint rapidly cooled.

" 'Trouble, the magician, then asked the fortune tellers if they wished to see some magic. Tarzaka shook her head, but No One agreed to a performance and requested the trick Trouble had just performed for me. I cannot imagine how No One could have known what trick I had just seen; but what angered me was that, had I waited, I could have witnessed the trick for nothing! At least, that was what I thought.

" 'When Trouble attempted the trick, however, it was almost as though unseen hands kept rearranging his cards. He tried the trick four times, each time failing. Tarzaka watched this sorry spectacle without once registering surprise. Exasperated, Trouble gave up and No One kept his coppers.' "

Little Will held out her hand. Turtlehead, let me read the rest for myself."

The priest paused for a moment, then handed her the paper. Little Will eagerly took the paper and began reading.

I asked No One if he would like me to recite history for him, explaining that I am becoming known for my "Epic of the City of Baraboo." He wanted to hear no lengthy recitations. But No One did offer me ten movills for the answers to three questions a Moman priest should be able to answer. However, to obtain the amount, or any part of the amount, I must be able to answer correctly all three questions. I agreed.

"You have recently returned from the town of Miira?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Then, Noodlebrain, does Shiner Pete of the Miira Harnessmen still live?"

I smiled, for I had made the entry in the Miira Book myself. Since it was no longer news, but history, I could answer. "No. Shiner Pete was killed by a horse the 20th of last month." I sensed, rather than saw, an enigmatic emotion go through the fortune teller's body.

Then he asked: "Does the bull, Reg, still live?"

This was easy, as well, for I had seen the bull myself. "Yes, Reg is alive. The bullhands guard her day and night in case the bull-killer, Johnjay, should return to finish his evil deed."

No One glanced at the fire's flames, then looked up at me. "And the third question, Noodlebrain: Exactly where did the Great Waco Whacko hide the Ssendissian eggs?"

I felt my belly go sour; "No one knows that—I mean, No One, the priests do not know that."

"Then you do not get paid." He leaned forward. "Can I sell you a fortune?"

Curse the cage in which he sleeps! "No!"

He nodded once, then smiled at me. His smile was a cruel thing mounted upon that ghastly white mask.

"Your performance was of some small value to me. I shall answer the question you think the most important." His eyes studied me for a moment, then he bowed his head and laughed. He got to his feet, shouldered his pack, and motioned to Tarzaka to do the same. Then he looked down at me. "You will die copperless, Noodlebrain. Wealth is not in your future."

Tarzaka stood, then the pair walked off into the night. Shortly after, Trouble the magician bid me a good night's sleep, and then ran after the two fortune tellers, leaving me alone at the fire, as well as five coppers poorer.

Little Will placed the paper upon Turtlehead's table. "It is Johnjay. I am certain of it. The one called No One is my son."

Turtlehead looked at the sheet. "Why does he search for the eggs?"

She turned and looked into the brightly lit street. "I do not know."

No One and Tarzaka walked the road by starlight. When they were well away from the apprentice priest's camp, she spoke to her white-faced companion. "You saw your father's death?"

He shook his head. "No. I was told in a dream."

"The death of the bull?"

"That was, I fear, little more than wishful thinking, Tarzaka."

They walked in silence for a time, then Tarzaka looked at No One. "When will you again try to put pictures in my mind? It has been a week since you last tried."

"I have tried a hundred times, Tarzaka." No One shook his head. "I cannot find the threads that I must arrange to place an image into your head. Even something as small as a word."

"No One, you must try again."

"It is no use!" He switched his pack from his right shoulder to his left. "That is why we must find the eggs. If there is any chance for you, they—" He stopped and stood motionless.

"No One—"

He cut off her words by holding up his hand. "Be still," he whispered. "We are being followed."

Tarzaka held her hands to her mouth, turned and tried to look into the blackness of the road. The swamp insects gnawed at them both as they stood as statues in the dark. "I hear nothing."

"He is not walking."

"He?"

No One nodded. "It is Trouble, the magician we left at Noodlebrain's camp."

"What does he want of us?"

No One stood silent for a few heartbeats, then he laughed. "Trouble!" he shouted. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" No One pointed down the road toward a shadow moving from the darkness. "There he is."

"What does he want?"

No One shook his head. "He wants to know how I ruined his card trick, but..."

"But?"

"I cannot read the rest, Tarzaka. There is a wall around his mind." No One looked at Tarzaka. "Be on your guard."

They watched the shadow grow until Trouble stood before them. His teeth were visible in the starlight. "Greetings, Johnjay." He nodded toward the woman. "Tarzaka."

No One studied the figure's form. "My name is No One."

Trouble shook his head. "You are Johnjay. The bull-killer from Miira. The one who has been blackballed in every town on Momus—"

"How do you know this?"

The figure stood quietly for a moment, then Trouble shook his head. "I am not certain. I just know. The news of your deed extends even into the swamp, and the questions you asked, the apprentice priest's answers, the things you did to my cards." Trouble shrugged. "They put themselves together and told me you were Johnjay—"

"By Momus's great fat pratt!" Tarzaka cut the magician short, then she turned, went to the side of the road, and began preparing a fire.

Trouble pointed toward her and spoke to No One. "What is her complaint?"

No One glanced after Tarzaka, then turned back to look at Trouble. "Of the three of us, she is the only one who apprenticed as a fortune teller. And of the three of us, she is the only one who cannot tell fortunes."

Trouble chuckled as he saw Tarzaka's head turn toward them for a moment, then turn back toward her preparations. "Again Momus's sense of humor inflicts itself upon his children."

"Will you join us in our camp? The fire is free."

Trouble studied No One. "Why would you invite me?"

"I prefer having you in the light—where I can keep an eye on you."

"I think we might be of profit to each other." Trouble nodded. "Very well, Johnjay."

"I am called No One."

"If you prefer."

"I prefer."

As they walked toward Tarzaka, she began striking her flint and steel, causing hot fat sparks to shower upon the tinder.

Trouble washed down his final mouthful of cobit with sap-wine, brushed the crumbs from his robe, and smiled at Tarzaka. "Fortune teller, your cobit grows cold."

Tarzaka tossed her bread into the fire. "I am not hungry."

No One frowned at her. "You needn't have thrown it away.."

"It was mine. I do with my own what I choose." She stood, turned her back upon the two men, and walked from the fire into the night.

Trouble laughed at her, then turned to face No One. "It certainly galls her, doesn't it?" When No One failed to answer, Trouble looked at the fire, his face growing somber. "No One?" "Yes?"

"Tell me how you ruined my trick."

No One adjusted his pack and stretched out before the fire, his head propped up upon one arm. "What profit is there for me?"

The magician's large frame shook as he again laughed. Trouble wiped imaginary tears from his eyes, sighed, and nodded at No One. "Profit." He made a slight gesture with his hand in a northeasterly direction. "You asked that idiot apprentice priest about Waco's eggs."

No One's eyes narrowed. "Do you know where they might be found?"

"No. Not yet." He shrugged. "I am not certain that they even exist—or ever did exist." He raised an eyebrow in No One's direction.

"I know that they exist, Trouble."

"We live in an age that prides itself in the art of lying."

"Nevertheless." No One's head lolled back. "But then, Trouble, how can your ignorance be of profit to me?"

Trouble looked back at the flames. "I have wandered the Great Muck for almost four years. My ignorance will be of no use, but the things I know speak differently."

No One shrugged. "Such as?"

"Did you know that toward the Upland Mountains there is one of the great swamp lizards that talks?"

No One sat up. "Talks, you say?"

Trouble nodded. "I have heard him speak myself. And there is more. There are other exiles in this swamp, and I have heard some of them speak of a strange swamp woman. It is claimed that all the creatures of the swamp serve and obey her."

No One lowered his head to his pack. "These are curious fantasies, but what do they have to do with Waco's eggs?"

The magician shrugged. "Where else would one get the power to control the monsters of the swamp?" He looked at No One. "To make them speak?" Trouble looked back at the flames. "I cannot see it all, but I see enough to know that these things need to be investigated—if one is interested in finding Waco's eggs."

"And all you want in return is to know how I ruined your trick?"

Trouble shook his head. "Not how; I want to know how to do it. I want to move things with my mind, as can you."

No One smiled. "How do you know I have this power?"

"I am able to do that simple trick in my sleep!" The magician snorted. "It was either you or ghosts!" Trouble grinned. "And I do not believe in ghosts."

"What if I cannot teach you what you wish to know? You might not be able to learn."

Trouble gestured with his head toward where Tarzaka had disappeared in the darkness. "You have a similar arrangement with the woman, do you not?"

No One studied the magician for a long time. Then he shrugged and looked at the flames. "I was already in her debt. But I have no reason to believe that she can ever learn the things that she wants to learn." "Yet she travels with you."

"She hopes that the eggs can teach her the things she wants to know."

"Perhaps they can do the same for me." Trouble wet his lips. "And I might have something else that could interest you, No One."

"What is that?"

"I think you want to know how I cloak my mind against your thoughts. Do I speak the truth?"

No One sat up, studied the magician, then pushed himself to his feet. "You read minds?"

Trouble shook his head. "No. I cannot. But I can prevent others from reading mine. My younger brother, Tribulation, can read minds. I had to learn how to prevent him from reading mine if I was ever to have a thought of my own. I learned to stop him." He looked at No One. "As I stopped you."

No One looked into the darkness, then turned back to the magician. "Once we come to the eggs, I will do what I can if you have been useful in finding the eggs." "The other?"

No One shrugged. "I have had little occasion where protecting my mind was necessary." He frowned and, for a moment, pondered the reach of his mother's thoughts. He slowly nodded. "Yes. I would learn the other, as well. But we must find the eggs, and you must help. That is the price." Trouble held out his hands. "We strike a bargain." "Wait here. I'd best find out what's happened to Tarzaka." The magician shrugged. "She is off whining someplace. Why bother?"

"She might be injured."

"What is that to you?"

No One looked from the darkness to the flames, then from the flames to the magician. No One frowned, shook his head, and looked into the darkness once more. "Wait here." He left the fire and walked after the fortune teller.

He found her, far from the camp, sitting atop a roadside stump. "What are you doing?"

She sat huddled in the darkness. "Go back to the fire, No One. You cannot understand what I think with your crippled head."

"Make yourself plain."

Her dark form shook its head. "Nothing. I meant nothing. Go back to the fire."

"Then come along."

"No." Her head lifted and her eyes looked at the stars. "It is unfair. It is so unfair."

"That Trouble and I can see the probable and you cannot?"

Her head snapped in No One's direction. "Yes!" She stabbed a finger at her breast. "I am the fortune teller! I am!" She looked back at the stars. "I am the only one of us who wants to be a teller of fortunes. What force is it that chooses who is to receive these things? What sarcasms occupy its mind?"

No One laughed. "You would look for fairness in a world created at the hands of a madman? You look for justice within Arnheim's perverted legacy? What would you call fairness, Tarzaka? That if I desired it I would be granted the skin, face, or form of a freak? That if I wanted to make others laugh, I would be granted the skills of the clowns?" Again he laughed. "You ask nonsense questions, and are full of fantasy." No One looked toward the camp, then back at Tarzaka. "Trouble has agreed to help us find the eggs. Are you coming?"

She issued a brief, bitter laugh. "And now a loutish thief joins our little band." Tarzaka shook her head. "Trouble can be your audience now. Why do you need me?"

"I don't need you! I never did!" No One stared at the dark figure for a long moment. "Tarzaka, what do you mean about my audience? When you say that, what do you mean?"

She turned toward him, the shadow of her hood making her faceless in the starlight. "You can do so much—so much that I want to do—yet you know so little, No One. So little." She waved her hand in the direction of the camp. "Go back to your new disciple, No One. I will be along later. For now, leave me alone."

"Tarzaka—"

"Just go, bull-killer. Go!" Her hand dropped to her lap, and No One could hear her crying. "Just go."

He paused, then turned and walked toward the camp with slow steps.