"Zohra Greenhalgh - Tricksters Touch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenhalgh Zohra)

Trickster's Touch

by Zohra Greenhalgh


Panthe'kinarok Prologue

The Greatkin were a motley, passionate family of twenty-seven. Since they
had all sprung from the Presence at the same moment, each Greatkin was
exactly the same age. Still, the Greatkin loved to play elaborate,
sophisticated games of dress-up which involved the full spectrum of aging.
One Greatkin was particularly good at this. His name was Rimble. He was
the face of the Presence which represented the impossible, the unexpected,
and the devi-ant. A mischief-maker without peer, Rimble was also called
Trickster by many members of his large family. A master of disguise, Rimble
might appear as a toothless hag one moment and a youthful, perfumed fop
the next. Rimble excelled at many things: one of these was the art of
making himself completely irritating to everyone in his proximity. When
that failed to amuse him, Rimble would cause mischief on some world or
other.

At present, Rimble and his brothers and sisters were all seated at a round
table which had been elegantly set for a dinner party serving twenty-seven.
This was the Panthe'-kinarok feast where everything the Greatkin said and
did translated instantly into the known universes. The most idle
conversation could have the most far-reaching consequences here. Spats or
intrigues between dinner partners might cause warsтАФnot to mention
indigestion for the Greatkin themselves. Fortunately, Rimble was fond of
his dinner partners, Phebene and Jinndaven. His affection for his sister and
brother had spared the family the worst of his unusually abominable table
manners. At present, Rimble had punctuated six of the nine dinner courses
with only thirteen belches, eight farts, and twenty-six yawns. Greatkin
Phebene was especially grateful to Rimble for behaving so well and said so.

"When you're polite, Rimble, dear, it makes eating so much more
enjoyable." She was the Greatkin of Great Loves and Tender Trysts and
tended to be a little on the syrupy side. Spectacularly beautiful, Phebene
wore a rain-bow-colored robe and a crown of green roses on her head. She
beamed at Rimble now, her voice full of seductive pleasantries and good
humor.

Rimble, who detested polite conversation, yawned for the twenty-seventh
time and grinned as Phebene's smile turned into a reproving scowl. Picking
his hooked nose (and eating its contents), Rimble said, "These
Panthe'kinarok dinners go on forever. Hates them, I do. Boring, boring,
boring."

Greatkin Jinndaven, who was seated on Rimble's right, groaned. If Rimble
was feeling bored, he was apt to do somethingтАФanythingтАФto relieve the
tedium. Jinndaven tried not to think of all the ways Rimble might decide to