The Big Meow

“’Impossible,’” Hwaith said, giving Rhiow a challenging look. “If we were younger wizards, it’s not a word either of us would be using.”

“Of course that’s where the youngest of us get their advantage,” Rhiow said. “But we’re both well past that stage now: not just lives along, but years. Wizards our age have to rely on expertise rather than mere blunt power.”

“And always run the risk of forgetting how our own definitions of possibility limit what we can do,” Hwaith said. The tone wasn’t accusatory: he might have been discussing the weather. “And as for the lives: that’s exactly the point. Neither of us is in a place in our travels where we can afford to just say ‘Maybe next time will work out better.’ Are we?”

For some seconds Rhiow was silent. Her soul was suddenly full of the echoes of her shock at discovering, not so long ago, that Saash — Saash who she thought she’d known so well — was nine lives along and nearing that final threshold that no wise Person approached without some unease. No one had any way to know whether he or she was one of those whose lives had brought them so closely into tune with the Powers’ way of being that they would inherit the gift that Aifheh and Sehau had won in sa’Rraah’s despite. Many People made light of that gift, saying that nine lives should be enough for anybody, and that an eternity of service afterwards was more than even the Gods had a right to demand. But Rhiow wasn’t one of these.

The issue of the number of one’s lives behind and the number yet to come was one not lightly discussed by any Person, wizard or not. Rhiow noticed that Hwaith had not volunteered any specific data. But he’s smart enough to read the signs, she thought, being familiar with them in himself… “Hwaith,” Rhiow said at last. “Why me? It can’t be … mere physical issues…”

Hwaith did put his whiskers forward then. “You have a bit of a blind spot,” he said, “for the physical issues.”

Then he hurriedly ducked away from the swipe she aimed at him. “So,” Hwaith said, though good-humoredly, “that prey was well spotted. Rhiow, what would be wrong with someone finding you beautiful? And I’m not talking about just the way you move. Or the wise way you handle your team. Why would it make me an idiot to say that I like your eyes? And what looks out of them.”

She was warmed, and embarrassed, both at once. “You are an idiot,” she said. “And by that measure we’re well matched, because so am I for letting you go on like this! Sweet Iau, Hwaith, consider the circumstances! Ehhif sacrifice, earthquakes, the Lone Power being wooed by some bigger darker power trying to use Her as a tool to destroy the world, and the Queen only knows how many other worlds too – this is not a time to be thinking about romance!”

“If you may never have another chance, it is,” Hwaith said. “Especially when you haven’t seen anybody in this life that you think it might work with, and suddenly they come along. What, am I supposed to bury my Personhood in a hole until circumstances improve? And in a universe where Entropy’s running, when’s that likely to happen, do you think? It’s who I am that makes me of use to the Powers. Or so They keep telling us.”

Rhiow had no immediate answer to that, and had to fall back on a different angle of approach, one that she was a lot less comfortable with. “Hwaith, that’s not the real problem here,” she said. “It’s just that…” She suddenly felt ashamed to say it, and had no idea why. “It’s just not returned,” Rhiow finally said, very low. “It means a lot to me, that you feel so kindly toward me, but I just…”

He looked full at her, and Rhiow was peculiarly relieved to see that Hwaith didn’t look hurt. But the expression in his eyes was strange in other ways. “Kindness has nothing to do with it,” Hwaith said. “The heart spoke, is all. It knew something I didn’t. Knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.” He looked away. “I could almost say I’m sorry. Except wizards don’t lie, and I’m not sorry –”

Rhi, Arhu said.

She licked her nose, looked away too. Ehhif are arriving, Arhu said. Some in groups. And I’ve seen where the first few went as soon as they came in. Down on the level where the wine cellar is, but right on the other side of the house, up against the big hill: there’s a door at the back of another of these little rooms. I can’t see in there very well: it’s heaving with sa’Rraah’s little jackals.

All right, Rhiow said. Pass the news to the others. She thought for a moment about whether it would be wiser to wait until all the ehhif were in, or go early. Early won. Arhu, I need you to go in first, she said. Hide and look around. Then pass us coordinates and we’ll slip into some quiet spot that you recommend.

Fine.

And remind Sif to keep her power-presence low and quiet! Rhiow said. The jackals are going to be twitchy enough at the feel of her just being in the space. The less reason they might have to crystallize their attention out, the better.

She knows that, Arhu said.

Good. Where’s Helen?