The Sludge continued to tour, and Orb continued to explore the powers of the melodies that had come to
her. They rehearsed while traveling in Jonah and discussed her discoveries, for they were all interested.
They knew that, if she mastered the Llano, she could do for them permanently what she had done
temporarily-abate their addictions to H, abate the curse on Jezebel so that she could be faithful to the one
man she cared for, and bring regular rain to Betsy's farm.
In fact, if she mastered the Llano, she could abolish all addiction and compulsion and vagaries of
weather, immensely improving the world wherever she went. They could continue their tour, but in
addition to bringing music to the masses, they could bring all manner of other good things. They were
dedicated, now, to this aspiration. They realized that only Orb had the capacity to find the Llano, but
that her success would benefit them all in both selfish and unselfish ways. They had sought personal
gains, but had found a higher mission.
Orb tried to perfect the powers of the music, but all she had were fragments. She could keep the boys
free of H while she was with them, but not when apart from them, unless they were in Jonah. She could
keep the intolerable lust of night from Jezebel on a similar basis. There had been a mix-up once, and the
succubus had gotten separated from Orb's vicinity for an hour. Jezebel had barely made it to the guitarist
in time, abating that hour with such dispatch that there could be no doubt of her demonic drive. He never
complained about the episode, but agreed emphatically that they should never allow such an accident to
happen again.
There was better success on the matter of traveling. Orb practiced and in due course was able to make
her way to any spot of the globe in seconds, by expanding to world size and contracting swiftly at the
new site. The travel was silent, almost unnoticeable to others; she simply faded gradually from view and
reappeared when she returned. She visited Luna, who seemed only moderately surprised, and even her
old home in Ireland, but her mother had disappeared. That brought her quickly back to Luna; what had
happened?
"She has found another occupation," Luna said. "Don't worry; she's satisfied."
"And didn't tell me?" Orb demanded. "Didn't even bid farewell?"
"She felt it better to leave you out of it," Luna said.
Orb's temper frayed. "She told you and not her daughter?"
"She meant to tell you herself, at the proper time." But Luna saw the way Orb was reacting and relented.
"I suppose it won't hurt if I tell you. Do you remember how she used to be an aspect of Fate, before she
fell in love with Pace?"
"Well, that was a bit before my time-" Orb stiffened. "You mean-?"
"She went back. She's Fate again."
"But she couldn't-I mean, Clotho is young and-"
"As Lachesis."
"The middle Aspect!" Orb exclaimed. "But why?"
Luna shrugged. "If you had a chance to be an Incarnation, wouldn't you take it? Especially if you'd had a
few decades' experience in a similar role? Her Earthly life was over."
Orb cooled as abruptly as she heated. "Yes, I suppose it was. I'm glad for her. I will be seeing her
again?"
"Yes. At the proper time. I gather that a certain party has been as active as ever, so she's been really
hopping to keep down the mischief. She doesn't want his attention to focus on you-you know why-so
she's been staying clear for now."
Now Orb understood. That prophecy! That she might marry Evil! Naturally her mother wanted to avoid
that if at all possible. So she was staying away from Orb, hoping that Satan would never think of her. It
made sense.
They agreed not to discuss the matter further, because even the mention of Satan's name could attract his
attention and bring him visiting. Orb departed, expanding and contracting back to Jonah. She had much
to think about!
She also visited Tinka, the blind Gypsy girl in the Basque country. Tinka could not see Orb's form, but
was aware of her in a moment. "Orb!" she exclaimed gladly.
They hugged. "I thought of you and thought I'd drop in," Orb explained in Calo, and that seemed
sufficient. "How are you doing?"
"I did as you asked," Tinka said quickly. "I gave Orlene and the ring to a nice American tourist couple. I
know they are taking good care of her."
"I'm sure they are," Orb agreed, feeling a pang for her lost baby girl.
"If only I could have my own..."
Orb pondered. She had abated addiction and passion in others; could she-? "One moment," she said.
She expanded back to Jonah, picked up her harp, and expanded back to France. "Let me sing for you,"
she said, setting up the harp. "I can't promise, but there is a chance perhaps a small, foolish one-that-"
"That I could have my own?" Tinka asked, catching on immediately.
"If this works," Orb agreed.
Then she played and sang, seeking another fragment of the Llano. Need seemed to enhance her chances,
and she saw this as legitimate need. Tinka deserved her own.
She sensed an aspect of the melody, tuned it in, overtook it, caught it, and made it her own. She sang it,
serenading her blind friend, and the music permeated Tinka's body, working its subtle magic.
"Oh! I feel it!" the Gypsy exclaimed.
Orb concluded her song. "Of course it can't be certain," she warned. "Your husband has his part to do-"
"He'll do it! He'll do it!" Tinka exclaimed. "If I have to dance the tanana on his belly, he'll do it!"
Orb smiled. Tinka was an attractive woman, and the Gypsies were lusty folk. She would probably come
on like a succubus, with equal success.
They talked, embraced, and parted. "But I will visit you again, often," Orb promised. "I have ready
means of transport, now."
But the most challenging aspect of her approach to the Llano was the storm. She had generated a spot
thunderstorm; periodically she duplicated that, expanding to Betsy's farm and causing more rain there.
But the power she drew on was far more massive and complex, and she knew that she grasped only a
tiny part of it. The melody of the fragment of the Llano gave her the ability to manipulate the
fundamental processes of the Elements, but it was like riding a dragon-could she really control it?
She learned. Bit by bit, with many errors, she increased her command of the weather, until she was able
to generate a broad, gentle rain or a tight, small storm. But those errors could be critical; once she let one
get away from her, and a tornado formed and ravaged a farmstead. She was lucky no one was seriously
hurt. When she traveled, she affected only herself, harmlessly; when she focused on a person, she
affected only that person. Her ability to protect the boys from their hunger for H was growing; similarly,
Jezebel was able to range farther from Orb's immediate vicinity, and Tinka did indeed get pregnant after
enticing her husband to appropriate labors. But the weather could kill, and that risk haunted her. She had
to understand it better-and to do that, she had to continue experimenting, though this entailed increasing
risk.
In due course, the tour brought them again to the Llano region of the country. Here was where she had
her first true encounter with the magic song, she believed in retrospect. Thereafter she had been able to
do things through her music that had been impossible before, to become a sorceress of sorts. She had
dreamed of finding the Llano, as if it were a simple tune she could hear and understand at one sitting;
now she knew that it was phenomenally more complex than that. Even if the whole of it were spread out
before her at once, she would not be able to assimilate more than a tiny bit of it. She had to master it bit
by bit; there was no easy way.
Jonah settled to the plain, and Orb stepped out on it, as she had the year before. She walked alone,
seeking a greater understanding. Her quest for the Llano had not eased as she approached it; it had
intensified, until now the tour and the shows they gave were of peripheral interest to her. She craved the
Llano in much the manner she might have craved a lover; indeed her interest in men had not been great
after she lost Mym, while the magic song promised things she could hardly imagine.
She walked, carrying her harp and opening her awareness to whatever offered. In this manner she had
found that first vital suggestion of the magic; could she find more?
A spider appeared, dangling from an invisible thread. Orb paused, admiring it. The spider expanded,
becoming fist sized, then soccer-ball-sized, and finally medicine-ball sized. It changed its form, two legs
extending and thickening to reach the ground, two more becoming human arms, and the rest shrinking
until they disappeared. In a moment the spider had become a human being, a middle-aged woman.
"Mother!" Orb cried, abruptly recognizing her.
The two hugged. "I thought it time to visit you," Niobe said.
"Luna said you had become Lachesis!" Orb said. "That you would come to me when the time was
appropriate."
"True. Matters have been complex, but now we must talk."
"I never expected to see you here now," Orb said. "I was-did Luna tell you of my quest for the Llano?"
"She did, dear," Niobe said. "And your quest is good. But there are pitfalls along the way-"
"So I have found!" Orb agreed. "An imperfect mastery is dangerous! This song-it enables me to change
the weather, to travel-"
"Yes, of course. The Llano is the most potent theme of this realm. But I was thinking of one particular
danger that you may not have anticipated. Do you remember the prophecy?"
"How could I forget it! That Luna might marry Death, and I might marry Evil. When I saw Luna
associating with Thanatos-"
"Exactly, dear. I had a concern about that, but I discovered that Thanatos is a good man, firmly on the
side of good and, I think, worthy of my granddaughter. But the same can not be said for Satan-and it
seems it is Satan whom you are destined to encounter."
"I would never associate with Satan, let alone marry him!" Orb exclaimed.
"But he is the master of deception and treachery," Niobe said worriedly. "Remember when I took you
and Luna to the Hall of the Mountain King, and a demon almost got us wiped out?"
"I remember," Orb agreed. "If you had not been with us-"
"I can't always be with you now," Niobe said. "In fact, the requirements of my present office are such
that I can seldom be with you at all. Important matters must soon claim my attention again; I have only a
few minutes now to give you warning."
"Warning of what?"
"Satan has set a trap for you. He means to complete the prophecy and marry you, regardless of your
will."
"But he can hardly marry me against my will!" Orb protested.
"My dear, you underestimate the power of the Llano. You have employed it to change the nature of
others, nullifying compulsions they can not overcome themselves. The Llano has similar power over
you, if used against you-and he means to use it. He will stun your will, so that you must acquiesce to the
marriage and be his love-slave. This is the trap."
"I don't believe it!" Orb exclaimed. "I would never-"
Niobe cut her off with a sad headshake. "You always were headstrong, Orb! Don't let it lead you into
this disastrous mischief! Accept my warning, so that you may escape the trap."
Orb stifled her outrage. "How can I escape it?"
"I wish I knew. But I know who does know. I must go now, but I will send Gaea to you. Listen to her,
Orb!"
Then Niobe metamorphosed back to the huge spider, shrank, climbed up her thread, and disappeared.
Orb walked on, troubled. Could Satan really enslave her by using an aspect of the Llano against her?
She had indeed seen its power over others; why should she be immune? Her mother would not mislead
her; she had to play it safe and learn how to nullify this trap before she fell into it.
A mist formed before her. It coalesced into human form, becoming a stately woman. "I am Gaea," the
woman said.
So Niobe had sent the Incarnation of Nature, as promised! Orb had never met a female Incarnation
before and now suddenly was meeting two, one of them her own mother!
"Mother said-"
"That I would tell you how to deal with Satan's ploy," Gaea finished. "I shall indeed! None of us can
afford to have Satan complete the prophecy. If he means to use the Llano on you-and if Lachesis
believes that is so, it must be so! your only recourse is to nullify it with another aspect of the Llano.
Every function of the Llano has its counter, if you can but find it."
"You don't know the counter?" Orb asked, worried.
"Child, I know it, but I am uncertain how much it will help you. I will do what I can, but there is risk."
"Risk in avoiding the trap?"
"The Llano is no children's plaything, girl! When you invoke it, you are starting a fire that can do much
damage, if mismanaged. Satan can not be harmed by it; he is already damned. But you-" She shook her
head.
"But if I do not invoke it, I became a slave to Satan!" Orb protested. "What could be worse than that?"
"Madness," Gaea said succinctly. "Satan would use you and forget you in due course; you might not
even be damned, if you never submitted in your heart. Once the prophecy was fulfilled, he would have
little further concern for you. But if you try the counter and fail, there would be no end to the madness."
"Are you suggesting that I should-should submit?" Orb asked, appalled.
"Of course not! But you must be aware of the risk entailed in the tool you use. Only then can you make
the proper decision."
Orb thought of being made subject to Satan's will, a love slave. "I'll take the risk! How can I escape?"
"He will sing the will-null aspect of the Llano. It is the only aspect of it he has mastered; such magic
does not come easily to him, for he is the Prince of Lies, with no true power.
You must counter it with the will-null-null aspect. I can teach you part of this."
"Part of it?"
"It is a duet. Satan, being supernatural, can sing both parts together; you, being natural, can not. I can
teach you one part; the other must come from another."
"Someone else knows the Llano?" Orb asked, interested on another level. "Who?"
"His name is Natasha. He-"
"He? Isn't that a female name?"
"Evidently not. Natasha may be the finest mortal singer, if it is not yourself. If he joins you and sings the
complementary theme, then you can escape Satan's trap. But if he does not-the single theme,
unsupported, will destroy your mind."
Orb did not like the sound of that. "How do I know he will sing the duet? Or that he is even near?"
"He need not be near; he can use the Llano to travel, as you do. He will hear you sing. But as to whether
he will join you-that no one can say. He may, if he chooses. But he may not."
"Is there no other to fill that role?" Orb asked despairingly.
"Few can sing any part of the Llano," Gaea said gravely. "Fewer can sing it well. Only Natasha can sing
it well enough to counter Satan's rendition."
"This Natasha-what kind of man is he?"
"The best of men," Gaea said. "But he has been questing for the Llano so long and finding aspects of it,
that he may not take your recitation seriously. He might take it to be a trap of Satan's-a trap for him.
Satan has tried that sort of thing before."
"I think I'll just avoid the whole issue," Orb said, turning abruptly about.
"You can not, child. Satan was not truly aware of you before, but now he is. He will seek you wherever
you go and spring his trap there. It is better to tackle it at a time of your choosing than at a time of his."
"I can choose the time?"
"You can, now-by moving it up. Satan seems to be not quite ready. But soon, in days or perhaps hours,
he will be."
"How can I choose it?"
"By starting to sing and play the Llano. He will fear that you are mastering the counter theme and be
prompted to act immediately."
Orb sighed. "Teach me that theme, then."
"I can not sing it," Gaea said. "But I can write the music." She raised her left hand, and a parchment
appeared in it; her right hand now held a quill pen. She wrote the music, swiftly, with sureness and
elegance, and handed the parchment to Orb.
Orb took it. Then Gaea faded. Orb was alone.
She looked at the music. It was clear enough, an unusual melody, but singable. There were pauses
written into it to accommodate the companion voice. She was sure it would be beautiful when properly
done, but she saw no particular magic in it.
She brought out her harp, settled down on the ground, and propped the music against a tree before her. It
would take her only a short time to memorize this; the parts of the melody seemed to follow naturally
from each other, so that there was no problem here. She began to play it, but did not sing, heeding
Gaea's warning.
The song took her, its magic manifesting. There was indeed power here; the theme shook her to the core.
If she were to sing it. The scene changed. Instead of the bare plain, there was now a kind of church,
except that, instead of religious symbols, there were demonic ones; and instead of comforting or esthetic
stained-glass scenes, there were depictions of torture and misery.
Satan appeared. He was red, with small flames playing about his limbs, and glowing horns and tail. He
turned to gaze at Orb, and his eyes were windows to Hell, flickering with passion and violence. "Now
you will marry Me!" he proclaimed.
"Never!" Orb retorted as bravely as she could manage, though fear washed through her. Her mother's
warning had been all too true!
Satan sang. It was indeed the Llano; Orb felt its devastating power immediately. Her will left her; she sat
and listened, overcome by its compulsion.
Satan gestured, without breaking his song. The second part sounded, complementing the first, as if two
men were singing, but there was only one. It added a dimension; now Orb could hardly even think of
resisting. The harmony, dreadful and beautiful, governed her will.
Satan beckoned. She got up and walked toward him. Her clothing shifted, becoming a bridal gown, with
a train and veil. His aspect changed; a tuxedo now clothed him. He was uncannily handsome despite his
color and his horns. Still he sang, and she was aware of almost nothing besides that sound.
She joined him at the altar in the front. He put out his hand, taking her elbow, turning her with him as he
turned. Now a demonic shape surmounted the altar: the infernal priest that would marry them. Its arm
moved, and something glinted-a sacrificial knife. Orb did not need to ask what was about to happen; she
knew. The thing would cut her arm, and cut Satan's arm, to mingle their blood, and they would then be
married by the law of this framework.
Satan took her arm, stripping back the white sleeve. He stripped his own sleeve. He grasped her hand
and carried her arm forward. The demon brought the blade close.
Orb, horrified, finally broke out of her trance enough to make a sound. She sang the counter theme she
had just learned. At first it was faint and unsteady, but in a moment the power of its theme emerged.
Satan was singing, casting about her a web of submission. Orb was singing, fending off that web. She
succeeded in freeing her head and arms, so that the demon could not cut her, but she could not free the
rest of her body. It was as if she were in a cocoon, able to move within it just a little, but not to escape it.
She needed more than she had.
But her song was proceeding, staving off the marriage. Until the first pause. Here she required a
response-and there was no one to make that response.
Abruptly all was silent. Satan had ceased his song, but her confinement did not abate. The spell had been
set in place. If she did not escape it now, she would never be able to.
There was no answer. She tried to sing again, but her throat locked; she could not resume until
appropriately answered. Satan waited, slowly smiling, knowing that the victory was about to be his; her
one hope was fading. She felt the surge of madness rising in her as the incomplete theme turned against
the one who had invoked it.
Orb focused her will, trying to project whatever magic she had out to the corners of the globe, the
curvature of the plain. She felt it going out, carrying the fading melody. Would there be an answer?
Satan nodded. He signaled the demon; the prey had not escaped. The demon brought the knife forward
as Satan took Orb's bare arm again. She tried to fight it, but could not; the scant protection made by her
song had seeped away. Only her eyes remained free-free to weep.
The knife touched Satan's red arm, and a thin streak of blood appeared. It crossed to Orb's arm.
Then, faintly, she heard it. Was it, could it be-?
Yes! It was the companion theme! Natasha was answering! The barely audible melody caused the walls
and floor to resonate, animating with the suggestion of its potency.
That answering passage freed her to resume. She sang her own part, and the infernal church began to
waver. Infused by the counter theme, it was losing its power over her.
Satan resumed his song, but now its compulsion was diminished. Orb felt its horrible tug at her being,
making her weak and despairing, but she was able to resist it.
She stepped unsteadily away from the altar, out of reach of the demon's knife. She retreated to the spot
where her harp was lying and picked it up, never pausing in her singing. She knew she was on the way
to her escape, but she felt the looming of the madness, too; if Natasha did not respond again, she would
still be lost.
Her passage ended-but the distant voice of Natasha was louder now, and it brought her renewed
strength. She marched resolutely to the wall and through it, out to the landscape beyond, while Satan's
song faded behind.
From beyond the crest of the low hill ahead came Natasha's voice, singing the alternate theme. She
walked toward it, singing in her turn. At the crest she encountered him as he came up from the other
side.
He was a well-knit man, sturdy rather than tall, wearing a bright plaid shirt and green denims. His hair
was fair, long and wavy, in the fashion of the ancient knights, and his features were ruggedly even. He
would not have seemed outstanding in a crowd, except for one thing-his voice.
Not since her father had died had Orb heard the magic by a man. The Gypsy girl Tinka had the magic,
but not as strongly, and it wasn't the same. Her father's voice had been passable, but when he touched
her, the music of the mighty orchestra had manifested and transformed his voice and her world to
splendor.
Natasha had the magic-and his voice alone was as fine as any Orb had heard. Satan had sung at her with
a rough bass, both parts; Natasha was a honeyed tenor, of perfect timbre and volume, surely a joy even
without the magic. But the magic that he had was potent; it reached out to move her from a greater
distance than her own magic could. The combination thrilled her; she felt almost as if she were treading
on clouds as she approached him.
They stopped singing and stood for a moment facing each other. There was no sound from behind.
Orb turned and looked back. The obscene church was gone; there was only open field.
"You play a dangerous game," Natasha remarked.
"I didn't choose it," Orb said. "Satan tried to-to marry me."
Natasha pursed his lips. "Then you must be the damsel of the prophecy."
"What has my reputation become!" Orb exclaimed with mock dismay.
He laughed. "When I set out in quest of the Llano, I learned that there was a woman who would sing it
as well as I, but that Satan had his eye on her and would try to take her before I met her. When I heard
your melody I had forgotten that; I answered only because it had to be answered, lest madness come. I
did not know it was you, or that you would be beautiful, or that your voice and magic be so wonderful. I
think I had no call for my jealousy."
"Jealousy?" Orb was still adjusting to this abruptly changed situation.
"I was always the most respected singer of my group," he said. "In my pride, I thought that none could
be my equal. When I learned that a mere woman..." He shrugged, smiling. "How can I resent one as
stunning in every respect as you? I think I never truly understood why it was that others listened so
raptly to me, until I approached you just now and was stirred by your voice and your magic. Truly,
singing with you has been the high moment of my life-and I do not even know you!"
"I am Orb Kaftan, of Ireland," Orb said, discovering that the thrill he described applied as readily to her.
Never before had she encountered her equal in this type of music, and it was indeed a transcendent
experience.
"Natasha, of this country," he said.
"If I may inquire-"
He laughed, as he seemed to do readily. "My father wanted a girl. My mother wanted a boy. My mother
was victorious, but my father had his revenge. He named me after the girl he had desired-in fact, after a
woman he had desired, before he married my mother." He grimaced. "You may call me Nat, if you
prefer."
Orb found herself liking him and suspected that she would have, even if he had not just rescued her from
a fate or two worse than death. "I am most grateful to you for saving me from Satan," she said.
"I am most grateful to myself for doing it," he said. "There are few better things than earning the
gratitude of a woman such as you."
It seemed best to skirt that subject. "What if Satan approaches me again, when you are gone?"
"Have no fear of that!" Nat exclaimed. "It is the easiest thing to thwart him, when you know the key. I
learned it by accident, serendipitously, in a bypath of my quest for the Llano."
"Easy? I was unable to resist! What is this key?"
"Simply sing his alternate part," Nat said. "That nullifies the effect, instead of completing it. When you
preempt half of the theme he requires to bind you, you render the whole harmless. I can quickly teach
you that part; you need never fear Satan again. He made his play and lost, and for that I am thankful."
He was hardly the only one! "Teach me!" Orb said.
"What, now?"
"I shall not feel safe until I know Satan can not touch me! I knew the prophecy, but thought I could
resist it; now I know that I could not. Not by myself."
He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "How can I refuse? I will sing it for you now."
He sang it, his voice rising so fine and clear and full that Orb felt a wash of joy flow through her. She
recognized the second theme that Satan had sung, but this time it was beautiful instead of grim. She
could have picked it up before, if she had realized how she could use it. As it was, she had been terrified,
too desperate to escape to make proper note of such a thing.
Nat finished, and Orb settled down with her harp, improvising an accompaniment, and sang it. She
could feel the partial power of it as she did so; this was definitely an aspect of the Llano!
When she was done, he sat beside her. "I had thought your magic was a bit less than mine, but with that
instrument it is more. How came you by that harp?"
"It was given me by the Mountain King," she said. "It enhances my magic, so that I can enchant an
audience."
"You have enchanted me," he agreed. "How is it possible that you, hearing a theme once, can sing such
a compelling rendition? I required many rehearsals to master it."
Orb shrugged, flattered. "It is my nature."
"I think I am glad I rescued you," he said. "Tell me, if this is not too forward-"
"I am unmarried," Orb said, flushing. "Otherwise I think Satan would not have-"
"Of course," he agreed immediately. "I should have realized. You need never marry until you wish to,
now. Let me say candidly that all I know about you now is your appearance and your voice, but that
these are sufficient to provoke my interest. May I court you?"
Orb was startled, but held her composure. After all, she had been approached by men before as abruptly.
Her reaction was less because of the expressed interest, or the courtly manner of its expression, than
because of her realization that she was more than casually receptive. It was true that Nat had just saved
her from a horrible fate and perhaps nullified a long-time prophecy: "One may marry Evil." How
important that word "may" was! The issue had been in doubt, and the doubt had been resolved. Yet it
would be safer to be married, so that Satan had no ready route to that objective. Even if that were not the
case, Nat was an extremely interesting and talented man. "You may," she breathed.
"I thank you for that permission. Orb," he said. "Considering that, let me sing you the Song of
Awakening."
"I don't think I know that one," she said.
"It is another aspect of the Llano that I have discovered in my questing. I must warn you that, like all the
aspects of that song, it is potent."
"I want to learn all of the Llano," Orb said.
"I don't know whether any single person has learned all the parts of it, let alone mastered them," he said
seriously. "I understand that its entirety is as complex and varied as life itself. Few are even capable of
singing the least of it, though some in moments of special inspiration or need do rise to the occasion."
"So I understand," Orb agreed. "Yet what a challenge!"
"What a challenge!" he echoed, his voice suffused with longing. "If the parts can do what they do, what
might the whole accomplish? I have dedicated my life to that pursuit."
"So have I," Orb said.
"Then I will sing you the Song of Awakening, and may the consequence be on our heads," he said with a
smile. "I did warn you."
"You did," she agreed.
He stood, took two steps forward, and turned to face down the hill. He breathed deeply, setting himself.
Then he sang.
From the first note, the magic manifested, holding her almost breathless, stunned by its beauty and
anticipation. She had never heard a finer voice or finer theme! She seemed to become one with the
environment, breathing its melody.
The sound spread out like a living blanket, and the world went dark. Orb was surprised, but not alarmed;
the feeling was good and more than good. She felt the magic surrounding her, suffusing her, filling all
the world about her, building up for what she knew would be a thrilling culmination. She knew already
that every story ever told about the Llano was true; its power now seemed infinite.
There was a gleam of light to the side. It broadened and brightened, turning red. It illumined the nether
sides of dark clouds, and rays passed between them to touch other clouds, causing them to glow like
stately hanging embers. The red became orange, and amber, and the surrounding light spread out to
animate the ground. It was the sunrise.
Now Orb recognized the melody; it was the Song of the Morning! The music she had first heard as a
child, that had brought her out to the field and the forest and the river for her adventure with the water
sprites. She had heard it often thereafter, but in recent years she had been caught up in other matters and
didn't go out to the natural country at dawn. What a delight this was, to discover her old friend in this
new guise! Of course it was an aspect of the Llano; she had always known that, but had never thought it
could be evoked by human voice. Nat had brought her a treasure!
The sunrise broadened to light the landscape, the rays of the slowly lifting sun spearing out past the bank
of clouds they heated to touch the ground. At each touch, a secondary glow manifested, the turf and rock
developing preternatural clarity and colors, seeming more real than before. Dew glistened, striking
delicate fire, forming a field of sparkling gems, seemingly more precious in its transience than any stone
could be. Tiny spider webs became chains of miniature beads.
The great, brilliant ball of the sun appeared, that transcendent orb after whose pale sister Orb herself had
been named. It was too bright to look at; yet in this vision, she could do so without pain, appreciating its
might while shielded from its harm.
A ray came down and touched her directly, illuminating a circle about her. She was bathed in its warm
brightness, becoming more colorful herself, feeling more beautiful. It was as if she had come into
existence at this moment, or had been renewed in better form. She was-awakening.
The song continued, harmonizing in its fashion with the natural things within its ambiance. The ground
stirred before Orb; she watched closely and saw new shoots coming up, breaking through the turf. The
stems spread, branching, thickening, reaching, taking in the strengthening beam of the sun, putting out
leaves that broadened and angled themselves to catch the slanting light.
Buds formed, expanded, and opened into flowers of all colors. Some suggested roses, some tulips, and
some orchids, but they were not; they were simply the magic flowers of the morning, their loveliness for
her eyes alone.
Orb looked around. The entire landscape had turned verdant, thickly grown with flowers. She was in a
garden, the massed fragrance of the flowers adding to her joy.
Then at last the song ended. It had not been long, objectively; her experience of it had dilated her
awareness and delight.
She gazed at Natasha, the source of this wondrous experience. She had not realized how handsome he
was! "I never knew it could be sung," she murmured.
"I will teach it to you," he said.
"I think-not now." she said. "I-have had enough experience for one day. I think I had better return
home."
"Of course," he said, coming to her and extending his hand to help her stand.
As she stood, the flowers faded. The relatively barren landscape returned. Even the hill was gone; they
were standing in the featureless plain of the Llano. Far away, near the horizon, she spied Jonah
swimming toward her.
"But I will see you again," she told Nat.
"Certainly," he agreed.
She walked toward the big fish. When she paused to look back, Natasha was gone.

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