The Book of Night With Moon (23 page)

That was when they found more of the lizards, furtive and hasty, devouring the bodies of those Rhiow and the others had killed. Urruah had charged them, scattering them: and the three of them had made their way hurriedly back to the surface and to the gateway to their own world. But Rhiow had not been able to forget the sight of an intelligent being, tearing the flesh of one of its own kind for food.
What kind of life is that for
any
creature? Down there in the dark… with nothing to eat but…

She shivered again, then started breathing strong and slow to calm herself.
Whisperer,
she said silently,
I have work to do. Tell me what I need to hear.

What do you have in mind?
the answer came after a moment.

Rhiow told her. Shortly, what she needed to see had begun laying itself out before her mind: spell diagrams, the complex circles and spheres in which the words and signs of the Speech would be inscribed— either on some actual physical surface, or in her mind. From much practice and a natural aptitude, Rhiow had come to prefer the second method: she had discovered that a spell diagram, once "inscribed" in the right part of her memory, would stay there, complete except for the final stroke, or sigil, that would finish it. For the rest of it— words, equations, descriptions, and instructions— she simply memorized the information. Like other peoples with a lively oral tradition, cats have good memories. And Rhiow knew there was always backup, should a detail slip: the Whisperer was always there, ready to supply the needed information, as reliable as a book laid open would be for an
ehhif.

You could carry too much, though— burden yourself with useless spells and find yourself without quick access to the one you really needed— so you had to learn to strike a balance, to "pack" cleverly. Rhiow selected several spells that could be used to operate on the "sick" gate— each tailored to a specific symptom it had been showing— and then several others. To the self-defense spells she gave particular thought. One line of reasoning was that the Old Ones, having been so thoroughly routed last time, wouldn't try anything much now. But Rhiow was unwilling to trust that idea— though it would be nice if it turned out that way. She packed several very emphatic destructive spells, designed not to affect a delicate gate halfway through its readjustment: spells designed to work on the molecular structure of tissue rather than with sheer blunt destructive force on any kind of matter, knives rather than sledgehammers. It was like Saash's approach to the rats— nasty but effective.

Finally Rhiow couldn't think of anything else she would need. The knowledge settled itself into her brain, the images and diagrams steadying down where she could get at them quickly. She began to relax a little. There was really nothing more to be done now but sleep. She would make sure she ate well in the morning: going out underfueled on one of these forays was never smart.

Rhiow closed her eyes, "looking" at the spell diagrams littering the workspace in her mind, a glowing word-scattered landscape. Other spells, recently used, lay farther out on the bright plain, less distinct, as if seen through mist: the last few months' worth of work, a foggy, dimly radiant tapestry. Even the spell that Ehef had mentioned was visible way off there, right at the edge of things, the "hobby" spell that she had picked up on her own Ordeal so long ago.
Well, at least that's behind me.

It's not behind Arhu, though. Poor baby. I hope he makes it.

But so many of us don't….

She sighed, feeling sleep coming, and passed gratefully into dream.

The warmth was all around her but slightly stronger from one side, like the fire her
ehhif
would light in the apartment's old fireplace once in a while, in the winter, when they thought they could get away with it. The Whispering had died away some time ago; now there was only the comforting presence of the Silent One, and the hint of a rumbling, reassuring purr that ran through everything.

Madam,
Rhiow said,
I'm frightened.

So are we all, in the face of That,
the answer came.
Or
almost
all of us are. My sister the Firstborn wasn't. But that was always her style, to go into battle laughing, as if there were no possibility of defeat. Maybe she knows something the rest of us don't. Or that may simply be in her nature as our Dam made it. For the mortal and the semimortal, at least change, the learning of courage, is an option. But for those of us whose natures were set at the beginning of things, we must, I fear, simply be afraid while we keep on doing our jobs. A god that forgets the virtues of specialization, trying to do things It was never designed for, soon becomes no god, but a tyrant.

Like your other sister, madam…

I don't speak of her,
the answer came.
We see enough of her as it is.
You
will shortly see more.

I really don't want to,
Rhiow said.

Little enough attention the worlds pay to what any of us want,
the answer came. As always, there was a slight edge of humor in the Whisperer's voice, but it was more muted than usual.
Desire, though… and intention… those are other powers to which even the Powers must answer. Go do your job, daughter. I'll do mine. Perhaps both of them may yet come to something….

The silence became complete, though, still reassuring, the warmth remained. The dim glow of the spells faded, and Rhiow slept.

M
orning came up clear but not at all cool, and Rhiow was awakened early by Hhuha complaining as she got dressed. "Must be eighty out there already," she was saying to Iaehh. "And the damn air conditioner at the office is on the blink again. I swear, a company that makes profits every year that could be mistaken for the GNP of a small country, but they'll let the staff sit there and swelter for two weeks in a row before they get someone in to fix the thing so it doesn't produce heat in August…."

"Sue, you should quit," Iaehh said.

Rhiow got up and stretched and went over to where Hhuha leaned against one of the counters in the kitchen. "Here he goes again," she said under her breath, rubbing against Hhuha's legs, and then went to the food bowl. This argument was one that happened about once a month, these days. Hhuha was a salaried consultant for one of the larger computer companies with offices in the city; but before this job, she had been "freelance"— nonaligned, Rhiow thought this meant— and had worked for whom she pleased. Iaehh— who was presently still wrapped in only his bathrobe and was leaning against the other counter, facing Hhuha— thought Hhuha should be freelance again, even though it meant less certainty about how much they would have to eat each week or (sometimes) whether they would eat at all.

"I wish. Damn contract," Hhuha said, pouring milk in her coffee.

"Some of that down here, please?" Rhiow said loudly.

"So don't sign it the next time."

"Don't tempt me…."

"I
am
tempting you. Don't commit yourself to them again. Go independent and let them pay twice what they're paying now if they want your services. Otherwise, let someone
else
pay twice what they're paying."

Hhuha put the milk away, sighing. "I don't know… I've gotten kind of used to the steady paycheck…."

"I know you have."

"Excuse me?
Milk?"
Rhiow said, standing up on her hind legs and patting the bottom of Hhuha's skirt. "Oh, sweet Iau, but I wish just once I could say it so you would understand. Hello?
Hhuha?!"

Hhuha looked at Rhiow, bent down and stroked her. "More cat food, honey? Sure. I don't know, though, Mike… There's so much competition out there… and so much uncertainty. In your job, too. You and I can starve. But someone else wouldn't understand if the food ran out…."

She straightened up and started to open another can of cat food. "Don't blame it on
me,"
Rhiow said. "You should do what makes you happy…. Oh, gods, not the tuna again!— Look, Hhuha! Saucer! Empty!
Milk!!"

"Wow, she really likes that stuff," Iaehh said. "Better get some more."

"I'll stop by the store on the way home."

"But, hon, you really should think about it. The hours there are wearing you out. You keep having to bring work home. They're not giving you the support they promised. They can't even keep the air conditioners working, as you say. You're not
happy
there…."

Rhiow sighed, hating to look ungrateful, and went over to the
ffrihh,
stood up on her hind legs against it, and patted the handle, looking mournfully at Hhuha.

"What?" Hhuha said.

"You put the milk away without offering her any," Iaehh said.

"Why can't more toms have brains like yours?" Rhiow said, and went straight to him and rubbed his legs, too, while Hhuha opened the
ffrihh
and got the milk out again. "What a clever
ehhif
you are."

"Won't be any left for your coffee," Hhuha said. "Never mind, give it to her," Iaehh said. "I'm running late as it is. I'll have something at the office."

"You wouldn't
be
running late if you'd gotten up when the alarm clock rang."

And they were off again about another favorite subject: the routine ignoring and silencing of the dreadful little bedside
ra'hio
that spouted news reports at them all hours of the day and night, but especially in the morning, when it began its recitation with a particularly foul and repetitive little buzzer. Rhiow was always glad when they turned it off… though this morning she had to admit she had been pleased enough, while it was still on, to hear it fail to mention anything terrible happening in Grand Central overnight. "Oh, thank you," she said, and purred, as Hhuha bent down and poured the milk.

"Hey, don't bump the hand that feeds you, my puss; the milk's going to go all over the floor."

"I'll take care of that, don't you worry," Rhiow said, and drank.

Hhuha and Iaehh went back toward the bedroom, still arguing genially. It was barely argument, really: more like what People called
f'hia-sau,
or "tussle," where any blows struck were affectionate, the claws were carefully kept in, teeth did not break skin, and the disagreement, if it really was one, was replayed more as a pastime than anything else.
They really are so like us, some ways,
Rhiow thought, finishing the milk and sitting up to wash her face.
I wonder if you could teach them Ailurin, given enough time? Repeating one word enough times, in the right context, until they got it…

"Bye, honey," Hhuha said, and as she passed through the living room, "bye, puss, have a nice day…"

"From your mouth to the Queen's ear," Rhiow said as the front door closed behind her, and meaning it most fervently.

She was still washing when Iaehh came out of the bedroom in his "formal" sweats, with his office clothes and his briefcase over his shoulder in a backpack. "Byebye, plumptious one," he said, heading for the door. "Don't eat all that food at once, it's got to last you…"

Rhiow threw a meaningful look at the bowl full of reeking tuna, but it was lost on Iaehh: he was halfway out the door already. It clicked shut, and one after another came more clicks as he locked the other locks.

"Plumptious" again. Is he trying to say I'm putting on weight?

Hmm.

Rhiow sighed, finished her wash, and went out her own door, into the warm, ozony air, heading for the rooftops.

Half an hour later she caught up with Urruah at the Bear Gate to Central Park. There were actually two sets of statues there— one of three bears, one of three deer— but from the predator's point of view, it was naturally the bears that mattered.

" 'Luck," Rhiow said, as they breathed one another's breath. "Oh, Urruah, not more MhHonalh's!"