Two To The Fifth (15 page)

However, there was Kadence. She had joined the troupe as Rhyme's younger sister, and was doing her best to be helpful. The actors and actresses liked her. In the guise of encouraging her to learn acting, he was able to be with her without suspicion.

He came upon her sitting on the ground, staring intently down. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Oh, sure, Cyrus,” she replied. “I'm just watching ants. I didn't know they marched in regular columns.”

“They don't, normally,” he said. He joined her, looking down. There were the ants in perfect formation, as if marching to a common drummer.

Drummer. This was Kadence, surely a variation of cadence. A cadence was a measured sound, a rhythmic progression. Folk marching to a drumbeat had cadence, as he understood it. Did the ants have cadence? If so, could it be related to her name?

“Kadence, try focusing on the ants not marching in step,” he suggested. “See what happens.”

“Okay, Cyrus.” She was being very careful never to call him daddy or father, and he appreciated that. She focused on the formation.

Immediately the ants broke into a tangled mess of nothing coherent. All signs of their formation was gone.

“Ooo, ugh,” she said, and concentrated again.

The ants re-formed their formation. They were back in step.

“Kadence, I believe we have discovered your magic talent,” he said, pleased. “You can make things have a cadence. To hear a common beat, as it were, and move in formation. The ants are doing it because you are making them do it.”

“Wow,” she said, surprised. “Is that good?”

“It's not good or bad; it's magic. Every person has a magic talent of some sort, and this must be yours. The talent of organization. Coordinating others efficiently. Some talents are stronger than others.”

“Is this strong?”

He had to be honest with her. “It does not seem like a really strong talent. But talents can be deceptive. Some that seem slight can actually be quite strong. Much depends on the way you develop it, and the use you make of it.”

“I'm supposed to have a strong talent.”

He shrugged. He did not see much potential here, but according to Rhythm, Kadence was destined to be a Sorceress. “Maybe you can learn more about yours, and enable it to become strong. It will take practice.”

“I'll practice.”

“Be sure to tell your sister Rhyme about it. She may be able to help.”

“I will.”

Three actresses were approaching, Kadence gazed at them intently. They got in step.

Cyrus made a silent whistle. “Are you doing that?” he whispered.

“Shouldn't I?”

“Maybe be careful with people. They might not like it.”

“Okay.” The actresses fell out of step.

“With luck, they won't have noticed,” Cyrus murmured. Indeed, the three walked on by, paying him no attention.

“Is it good, Cyrus?”

“It is stronger than doing it with ants, yes. We need to discover what else you can do.”

“I'll work on it, Cyrus,” she said, pleased.

It was time to put on the first play, Curtis made arrangements with Crabapple's village, and it was scheduled.

Then things started to go wrong. Guise had done well with the costumes, but had not had much time in the part, and tended to forget his lines at key moments. That would never do.

“We need a prompter,” Curtis said.

“A what?” Cyrus asked blankly.

“A person who follows the play, and prompts the actors when they falter. I should have remembered before.”

It seemed like a good idea. “Who can do it?”

"Anyone with a script. But some are better than others. We'd better have spot rehearsals for the position.

They did. Dusty tried it, but tended to blow the lines. That was worse than no prompter.

Acro was willing, but tended to excerpt letters from key words. That didn't work either.

“Try Kadence,” Melete suggested.

“But she's a child.” Cyrus winced internally as he said it, remembering what had happened the last time he accused a girl of being a child.

“She's a likely Sorceress with a talent for alignment.”

So they tried Kadence, and she was perfect. She didn't even need a script, which helped, because she had not yet learned how to read. She had memorized all the parts just from hearing them rehearsed and corrected.

Tuff made a small chamber of stone and set it into the ground at the front of the stage. Kadence sat in it, facing the stage; the audience could not see her, as it was on the other side of the stone. “Now forget a line,” Cyrus told Guise.

He faced Xina. “I want to—to—”

“Marry you,” Kadence whispered promptly.

“Marry you,” he said, remembering the line.

She would do. She had found her role in the play.

Another problem was food. The group had pretty well foraged out the local pie plants and other natural sources, and were tired of the Witch's sandwiches and brews. They needed a new, independent supply. There were increasing complaints, and actresses were getting female-doggish, which spoiled morale. But how could they tackle this problem, when they had the play to perfect? They couldn't afford a serious distraction.

Rhythm got on it, in her fashion. Melete was the one who gave her the notion. “Dear, we need you here, for reasons we can't say openly.”

“So I shouldn't mention things like the man and daughter I love, because I'm too young to know the proper meaning of the word, or the way I keep my identity clouded from the others?”

“Exactly,” the Muse agreed with just a bit more than half a smile. “Don't refer to them at all, beyond the privacy of this tent. So I think this is an occasion where your sisters might be able and willing to assist.”

“Melody and Harmony!” she exclaimed. “I miss them.”

“But we shall have to conceal certain things from them, lest word reach parental ears prematurely.”

Rhythm quailed. “They'll know.”

“Then we must persuade them to keep the secret, at least for the time being.”

“Maybe that will work. They love secrets.”

“Then summon them now.”

Rhythm produced her drum and drumsticks. She made a brief patter.

Instantly two cutely crowned girls arrived. One wore a nice green dress, had green/blond hair, and blue eyes. The other had brown dress, hair, and eyes. Both had somewhat impish expressions, as if about to participate in something funny.

“You called, sister?” the first inquired.

“Or drummed us up?” the other added.

“Meet my triplet sisters. Melody and Harmony,” Rhythm said.

“Hello, Princesses,” Cyrus said formally.

The two gazed at him with disturbingly aware expressions. He realized that they could probably read minds, the way Rhythm could. He tried to banish any thoughts of the true situation.

The two turned as one to Rhythm, “Ooo, you've been naughty,” Melody said, delighted.

“Extremely naughty,” Harmony agreed, smirking.

“Bleep!” Rhythm swore. “I never even showed my panties.”

“You went beyond panties,” Melody said.

“Way beyond panties,” Harmony agreed. “Or inside them, as the case may be.”

Rhythm, clearly overmatched, played her trump. “This is my daughter, Kadence.” Kadence appeared beside her.

This shut them up, momentarily stunned.

“Hi. Aunt Melody,” Kadence said politely. “Hi, Aunt Harmony.”

Melody found her voice. “But she's—”

“Six years old,” Harmony said.

“It's complicated,” Rhythm said.

They regrouped. “You will tell us everything,” Melody said.

“Especially including the forbidden details,” Harmony agreed.

“First you must agree to keep the secret,” Rhythm said.

The two exchanged a knowing glance, “On one condition,” Melody said.

“We get to kiss him, once,” Harmony said.

“What?” Cyrus exclaimed.

Rhythm looked pained. “We do need their help, Cyrus.”

He realized that he had to go along with their mischief. They were after all Sorceresses, dangerous to offend, “Once,” he agreed weakly. “But that must be secret, because—”

Suddenly Princess Melody was embracing him. “Because this, too, is,” she said, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. The impact of it was half stunning. He remembered that her mind was actually fifteen.

Then her blue eyes became brown, and it was Harmony holding him. “A violation of the Adult Conspiracy,” she said, and kissed him equally firmly. That impact was the other half stunning; her mind was sixteen. He fell back on his bed, unable to orient. But already he understood that Rhythm was not so much of a maverick after all; her sisters were equivalently naughty and daring, after allowing for their mental ages. Sorceresses, all.

Kadence came to join him. “They're just teasing you. Father,” she said, taking his hand. That helped.

“Now you've done it,” Rhythm said grimly. “You're both in it too. We're all in violation.”

“So none of us will tell,” Melody said.

“Any of this,” Harmony agreed. “Now out with it, sister. We are already good and jealous.”

“First, we need to find a way to provide plenty of varied food for the troupe,” Rhythm said firmly.

The other two sighed, together. “Very well, let's focus,” Melody said.

“On that problem,” Harmony agreed.

“Then I'll cover the rest,” Rhythm concluded.

They put their heads together. Cyrus felt an intensity of magic expanding outward. It was breathtakingly strong. He remembered that any one Princess was a Sorceress, and any two squared it, and the three together cubed it. If he hadn't believed that before, he certainly did now.

Then it collapsed. “Jim will be here tomorrow,” Melody announced.

“His talent is making food,” Harmony added.

“Which will solve our problem,” Rhythm concluded. Then she told her sisters what had happened, abbreviating only the details of stork summoning, which inhibited her at this age.

Cyrus, Kadence, and Melete merely listened, finding the dialogue interesting despite their familiarity with the subject. The Princesses had their own take on its aspects.

At last, satisfied, Melody and Harmony gave Cyrus a knowing look, and vanished. They had come, helped, and learned the full naughty secret, and would not tell. Rhythm seemed satisfied, and relieved.

She came to him after that, as Melete and Kadence elected to take their walk. Abruptly a decade older, she was especially amorous. He gladly indulged her. Yet Cyrus had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching. The two sisters, surely, snooping on what was forbidden. He doubted he could do anything about it, so he did his best to ignore it. Maybe it was just his imagination.

“Not even a Sorceress can balk a Sorceress,” Rhythm said. “Let alone two Sorceresses.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, kissing her.

“Of course you don't,” she agreed, kissing him back. “But the Adult Conspiracy will fuzz the details.”

He hoped so.

Next day, Jim arrived, coincidentally, he thought. He could make any kind of food magically, in any amount. But in a land where pies grow on trees and beer formed in the thick trunks of other trees, there had been very little demand for his talent. Now he stumbled into a camp where they welcomed him. It was instant mutual appreciation. Thereafter each member of the troupe had whatever food he or she liked, whenever and in any amount liked.

Acro seemed to take an interest in him. It seemed that Jim would not be sleeping alone long.

The day before the presentation, Cyrus, Curtis, Tuff, the Witch, and Kadence walked to the neighborhood and surveyed the site selected for the play. It was in the center of the village, with space for people to stand or sit all around it. “Make a raised stone stage here, of this size.” the Curse Friend told Tuff. “A dressing room here.”

“But Guise makes their clothing right on them,” Kadence said. “They won't need to change.”

Curtis smiled. “Trust me, child, they will need privacy. Actors are a temperamental lot; they get nervous before a presentation.”

“Nervous?”

“Sick to their tummies,” the Witch explained. “They may even toss their cookies.”

“They'll be eating cookies?”

Melete intervened. She was in Cyrus's pocket. “This is Adult slang,” she explained. “She means they'll vomit.”

The child burst out laughing. “Oh, that's funny!”

“Not to the actors,” the Witch said, smiling wickedly. She had not heard Melete, of course.

“Privacy,” Curtis repeated. “Better have two potties, and a mop.”

Kadence tried to stifle her giggles. The men smiled.

“And the prompter's booth here,” Curtis continued after slightly more than a moment, “With a circular stage, some of the audience will see her, but that won't matter, they'll understand.”

“Can I wave to them?” Kadence asked.

Curtis winced. “Please don't wave. This is a serious play.”

She looked mirthfully disappointed.

Tuff conjured blocks of greenish volcanic stone magically and formed a raised stage together with a pinkish changing room complete with brown stone potties. It looked very pretty.

“Of course the stone won't remain for more than three days,” he said. “My talent is to borrow it from old volcanoes, not to keep it.”

“That is fine,” Curtis said. “The villagers wouldn't want our stage cluttering their territory indefinitely.”

They returned to their camp for the night. Cyrus was excited; the big event was almost at hand.

Next afternoon, even before the play, several actors were daunted by the expectant audience of villagers. They suffered butterflies and butter-spiders in their innards, and made copious use of the facilities. Crabapple was especially nervous, because she wasn't sure how the folk who had known her all her life would react to her role as an actress. But they all rallied bravely in time for the presentation.

Guise walked out, garbed as a handsome young man, which he happened to be; his costume merely made him more so. He approached the Witch's Garden.

The Witch rose up to face him, fairly radiating ire. Her costume made her more dramatically witchly than she had ever been in life, despite being authentic. “You—” she started. And stalled.