Meisha Merlin Publishing, Inc. Atlanta, GA


MYTH-GOTTEN GAINS

Chapter 1

"PSST! HEY, FRIEND! Yeah, you with the green scales! Buy me!"

I looked around.

I was browsing one of the myriad jumble sales that beck­oned to me, not
in the Bazaar, where the voice was probably that of the innocent-looking
Deveel vendor behind the table, but on market day in the town square, in
a dimension called Ittschalk. I'd stopped off on a tour of the provinces
just for the hell of it, where the people were covered by masses of
long, wavy hair like Rastafarians and the wide-open skies were greenish.

For the first time in years I wasn't dependent on anyone else for a ride
to the next dimension—thanks to a gift from a friend. I was enjoying the
novelty of being able to travel in my own company, staying as long as I
pleased, where I pleased. If I felt like having a weeklong drunk in
Pookipsie with the Pookas, I could do it. If I discovered the annual
Broaching of the Casks festival in Harv was a bust, I could book out of
there without having to wait around for a magician to give me a boost.
lib­erty was more of a kick than any champagne I'd ever drunk.

The Prounvip Annual Village Fair was a forest of tents set up in a
wide-open square, amid the few scattered buildings on the dusty prairie
plain. An oom-pa-pa band was tuning up un­der a conical, blue tent in
the middle of the clearing. The sa­vory smell of frying sausages and
bubbling pots of spicy chili drew my nose's attention to the
stringy-haired cooks laboring over pit stoves under an adjacent
pavilion. Kids were having their long locks plaited into tiny dreads and
tipped off with colored beads by nimble-fingered hairdressers, or
sprayed in undulating patterns with glitter that their mothers were
un­doubtedly hoping would wash out easily later on.

Off to one side the hairy denizens were trying their luck at shying
coconuts, trying to hit inflated colored bladders with darts, or
attempting to knock down a pyramid of amphorae

with a stuffed cloth ball. Pretty primitive games, to my so­phisticated
Pervish eye, but the locals seemed to be having fun trying their luck. I
wasn't sucker enough to throw away my coppers on the games, which were
always rigged, at ev­ery fair in every dimension, or, from what I could
see, on the merchandise set out for sale on rackety tables arranged
un­der the hot sun for my delectation. I surveyed it all with a
phlegmatic eye. Most of the stuff for sale was unmitigated junk, but I
was enjoying a look anyway before checking out the quality of the local
brew in the hostelry across the way. Enough of the patrons were
staggering out to give me a good feeling about the place.

"Hey! Look down! Please, good fellow, get me out of here!"

I looked down. An eye peered up at me. It was reflected in the inch or
so of dull silver blade protruding from the worn leather scabbard on the
table. I glanced up. There was no one nearby from whom it could be
reflected. Intrigued, I grasped the darkened brass hilt and pulled the
sword out a few more inches. A second eye appeared reflected in the
blade. They were long, steel-blue orbs outlined in black, keen and
sum­ming. I glanced up to see if it was the black-braided merchant
casting a spell on the blade to make it more appealing to pass-ersby,
but he was at the end, talking to an old lady covered by long, silver
hair about a flowered china chamber pot.

The voice murmured again. "Thank the Smith, I thought you were never
going to listen to me!"

"I heard you," I said, pleasantly. "Have a nice day."

I prepared to pass on to the next pile of goods.

The voice grew frantic. "Pray, friend, don't go! You may hear something
to your advantage!"

My ears pricked up. Pervish ears are well designed to hear things to our
advantage, being shaped not unlike those of bats, who can hear noises up
into the highest decibels. We can hear sums well up into fifteen figures.

"What could you possibly do for me?" I asked, keeping whatever interest
I might have out of my voice.

"First, friend, cleanse me of the grime of this place."

"How?" I asked.

"If there be no enemy to strike, a sharp rap upon a stone will do it."

"Why not?" I said.

I don't carry weapons. Pervects like myself are well fur­nished by
nature with defensive armaments, such as hide tough enough to turn a
fairly sharp blade, yellow claws that could as readily disembowel an
opponent as poke open a can of beer, and four-inch, pointed teeth
capable of ripping into anything including the cheap steaks at a truck
stop. Still, I know how they're used.

Scaring the pair of arachnoids next to me into dropping their egg sacs
prematurely, I swept the sword up over my head and knocked the blade on
the ground. It /hummed. /The corro­sion just exploded off it. I covered
my eyes to protect them from flying rust. When the dust storm ended, I
found I was clasping a gleaming brand with a blade of white-hot silver
and a hilt of chased gold studded with cabochon gems of the pure colors
of ruby, amethyst, emerald and sapphire that made my palms itch with
unrealized profits.

The eyes, now free of the film that had veiled them, were sharper than
ever. I had seen eyes like that while playing Dragon Poker, over the top
of a hand of cards, as my opponent won­dered if I really held an
Elf-high flush, or if I was bluffing. These made an intelligent search
of my person from head to feet.

"A Pervert," it said. "I have both aided and killed your kind."

"It's Per/vect/, you hunk of tin," I snarled.

The eyes closed briefly as if the unseen being was bowing its head in
apology. "As you will. Your people have attained a higher status, then,
than they had when last I saw Perv. Pray, friend, buy me, and hastily. I
would be away from this place. I will see to it that you will be
reimbursed tenfold."

"Tenfold, eh?" Well, that was a pretty good return on an out­lay. Still,
I didn't have amniotic fluid clinging to me anywhere.

"In case you didn't know it, Skinny, you're a sword. Where are you going
to get the money?"

"I will tell you my story, if only you will remove me from this locale.
I fear that danger may lurk about us soon."

I observed just then that more people than I had taken notice of the
transformation of the flea-market sword from letter opener to museum
piece. I gave them a good glare and showed my teeth. They backed away,
careful to keep their hands and feet far away from my mouth. I shoved
the sword back into its shabby sheath and dragged it carelessly over
through the dirt to the being who owned the stall.

"Ah, good...sir," the Ittschalkian said, turning his mass of braided fur
my way. He eyed me nervously, but he wasn't about to drive away a
potential sale. He peered at the weather-beaten tube of leather in my
hand. I kept my fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt. "I see you have
chosen one of my favorite artifacts. I am sure you appreciate its value."

"I sure do," I said. "Five gold pieces, and not a copper more."

"Five?!" the man asked, his face transforming spectacu­larly from oily
accommodation to outrage. "How could you ask me to part with a family
heirloom for a mere five coins, scaly sir? It's worth at least forty!"

I always thought it was amusing how a shopkeeper could set out a
tableful of crap, ignore it unless it was being openly stolen, abuse it
to his friends and family as the garbage it was, then instantly start
spouting the woe-is-me-my-family-will-starve line. I'd heard the litany
so often I could recite it along with him. If the guy's a good salesman,
I will sometimes join in the banter just to enjoy the show, but this
clown had no natural style. He was clearly one of the guys who'd bought
the course advertised on the back of a magazine that was headlined, "If
you can draw Sparky, you, too, can be a filthy huckster!" He just didn't
have it in him. Besides, I wasn't in the mood.

"Too high an opener, brother," I said, shaking my head reprovingly. "A
Deveel wouldn't have had the nerve to ask me for twenty for this pig
sticker."

"Pig sticker!" echoed the voice in the scabbard. It was muffled, but
there was nothing wrong with its hearing. "I'll have you know, varlet..."

"Shut up. Not you," I said to the merchant. "Five's my offer."

"Then I will say fifty!"

I sighed lustily. He had not seen the sword's transforma­tion, and not
only was I not going to tip him off about it, I gave a warning eye to
everyone in the crowd gathering around us to make sure they didn't,
either. "Six."

"Sixty!" the merchant responded.

"Seven."

"Seventy!"

"Four."

"E...what?" The runaway freight train just piled into a brick wall.

"You've just tripped into absurdity, brother. The price goes down from
now on."

"Why, you can't do that!" His braids flapped with outrage.

I grinned, giving him the benefit of my last dental prophy­laxis. He
blanched at the sight of my Pervect smile.

"Sure I can. Do you want to make a sale or not?"

"That's the stuff, friend...!" the voice from my hand mumbled out.

"Shut up. Where were we? Four."

"Nay, good Pervect, I am worth at least a hundred times that!"

"Shut up!" I growled out of the corner of my mouth. "Do you want me to
leave you here?"

"Nay, I beg you!"

"Then, zip it before someone hears you! Four," I repeated.

"No, sir, please!" The merchant was aghast. He wrung his hands together.
"It cost me far more than that! I obtained it from a hairless, old
soldier down on his luck."

"Probably out of drinking money," I said, coolly. I had the upper hand,
and I wasn't letting it go.

"Give me twenty, at least."

"That's more like it," I said approvingly.

"Then you'll pay it?"

"No way. My original offer was five, and you're going to be lucky to get
that."

"Fifteen, friend."

"Nope."

"Ten. That's just a single coin more than I paid for it. That's my last
offer."

The truth rolls out if you give it time, and so does the local police
force. I noticed a quartet of hairy pikemen trot­ting down the street
towards us with purpose. Someone in the crowd must have decided that I
looked dangerous. I could prob­ably get away with stiffing the merchant
at nine gold pieces, after his admission, but I didn't feel like
tangling with the con­stabulary. This was supposed to be my vacation!

"Done." With an air of magnanimity I felt in a pocket for the right
change and tossed the money onto the table. The coins rang as they
clattered to a stop on a brass commemora­tive coronation platter. "Nice
doing business with you."

I turned away nonchalantly, tucking the sword under my arm. In a cloud
of hair, a bunch of people rushed toward the table to talk to the
merchant, probably to tell him what a sucker he had been to sell a prize
piece of cutlery like that at cut rates. I sauntered idly toward the inn.

"By heaven, friend, you are a frighteningly good business­man even for
one of your kind."

Normally, flattery feels good, but it had just occurred to me that there
was now a ten-coin-shaped hole in my purse that hadn't been there
before. I snarled.

"Shut up. I just paid out good money for a sword that I don't need."

I needed a drink. I stalked into the inn, took sole possession of a
corner table, planted myself with my back to the wall and my eye on both
the front and back doors, and signaled to the bar­maid, a fetching lass
with long red hair all over her shapely form.

"Hey, babe! Whaddaya got on tap?"

A moment passed while I persuaded the girl that the egg-cups that
Ittschalkians drank out of wasn't enough to keep a Pervect alive over
lunchtime. By the time she reappeared with a hastily scrubbed bucket
filled with beer, the sword could no longer restrain itself.

"By the Smith, it is good to be away from those pathetic artifacts and
their master! Unsheath me, friend. I sense that we are in a reasonably
defensive location with few potential foes nearby."

It was exactly the same assessment that I might have made of the
situation. The main room of the inn was empty except for a few locals
chatting earnestly over the long table right in front of the bar, and a
couple of oldsters with thinning, gray locks playing a board game under
the window on the oppo­site side of the room. I felt mellowed enough by
the first mug of beer to indulge the sword's whim. I pulled it free of
its case.

"What hight you, friend?" it inquired, giving me another one of those
summing, X-ray looks.

"You mean you can't read it off my underwear band?" I countered. "Aahz
is the name."

"Oz?"

"No relation."

"Ah. It was the green color that put me wrong. I hight Er­satz."

"Yeah, sure," I chuckled, taking a pull at the second bucket of beer.
"So is every other talking sword in the dimensions, and most of the ones
who can't talk."

"But I am THE Ersatz."

"That, my shiny friend, is what they all say." I looked down at the
eyes. They were angry. "Okay, maybe the guy who forged you and set the
intelligence spell in your metal told you your name was Ersatz, but I
gotta tell you, you couldn't be the real one. /That /sword was made
about ten thousand years ago. It fought in about a million battles..."

"One million, four hundred thousand, eight hundred and two—no, three. I
have never been defeated."

"Listen, pal, you can spout off fake statistics until you're blue in
the...er, steel, but there are hundreds or thousands like you."

The eyes blazed. "There is no one like me! I am unique! I, the leader of
the Golden Hoard, am nothing like those hun­dreds or thousands who may
have followed. They are named for me! I was at the side of the hero
Tadetinko who saved Trollia from the blazing monsters from Lavandrome! I
was in the hand of the conqueror who bested the usurper of the Deveel
Corporation! I, and I alone, was the weapon who held back the gate that
protected the capital of your very dimension and kept it from becoming a
wholly-owned subsidiary of that very business concern. I am no
imitation! I am the REAL Ersatz!"

At that moment I remembered where I had seen a sword that looked like
Ersatz. It was woven into a tapestry that hung on the wall of the Perv
Archaeological Museum in the city where I grew up. In particular, I had
noticed the unusual pat­tern of jewels in the golden hilt. About two or
three thousand years before I was born, a Pervect named Clonmason /had
/de­fended the dimension against the invasion of Deveels that had
attempted to occupy our main city. He drove them back to their infernal
regions with a legendary sword named...

"Nah..." I breathed. "The Golden Hoard is a myth!"

"Indeed," said the sword, "we are not."

I sat back, forgetting even to drink my beer. The Golden Hoard had been
renowned throughout the dimensions for thou­sands of years. It was a
collection of fabulous animated trea­sures whose who seemed to find
their way to people who were about to be heroic, so they could save the
world from what­ever peril had arisen at that time. I knew all about the
Hoard. It consisted of all the traditional goodies, one of which some
hapless knight comes across just when he was hoping to avoid a major
conflict, and finds himself at the heart of a battle royal to save the
world, turning up just in time to ransom a fair

lady, or in the hands of a wet-behind-the-ears wizard enabling him or
her to make the prophecy that saved a kingdom from certain disaster.
They had all been around for thousands of years. I rarely feel awe for
anyone living, and almost never for anything inanimate, but I had to
admit I felt respect for the slip of steel in my hands. If it was the
real Ersatz, it had led more generals than the hope for glory. It was
worth a big chunk of change, making ten gold pieces a cheap investment
against a potentially enormous return.

"So the crystal, the cup and the book...?"

"Aye, the ring, the flute and the endless purse of money also are
members of our order. I am the eldest. The great shield is all to
brast," the sword added. "He gave his all for the Lib­eration of Klahd,
four thousand years past. The harp was crushed, stringless, in the rout
that followed the Taming of the Centipede Giants. The Great Key was
melted down in the fire that destroyed the treasure house at Nox. Yet,
that is our fate. I have seen great treasures join us, only to depart
this existence, yet satisfied that they had been crafted for just such a
moment."

"Weren't there some more treasures?" I asked. "I heard about a golden
mace some guy was hauling around some years back. It was supposed to be
part of the Golden Hoard."

"We have an ongoing problem with wannabes," the sword said, with a sigh.
"For a while, Heroic Treasures were coming out of the woodwork, so to
speak. No mace was ever part of our number. There was a claim from the
Bagpipes of Fear, but it turned out there was really nothing magikal
about them. Their sound just naturally made anyone hearing them turn and
flee, something any one of ten billion sets of bagpipes could do."

I shuddered at the thought of ten billion bagpipes. I exam­ined the
sword again.

"Looks like katae," I said, admiring the metal. It had been folded over
itself again and again to make layers katae that were many times
stronger and more flexible than any poured blade could be.

"Katae!" the blade shrieked. "My smith predated katae by ten thousand
years! He devised and forgot about more tech­niques than any swordsmith
since his day!"

"Don't get your quillons in a braid," I said, continuing my examination.
The sword, "Ersatz," was once famed as the sharpest, most intelligent
sword around, but so many fakes were made that the name became a byword
for cheap and shoddy. "You look like you can still hack with the best of
them."

"I'm still as sharp as I ever was," the sword insisted. "But I can't get
anyone to believe it. YOU didn't believe it."

"The jury's still out, as far as I'm concerned," I said, but I was
starting to take his word that he was what he said he was. "Where are
the others?"

"I know not where most of my companions be," Ersatz admitted, the
steel-blue eyes dropping slightly. "Many of us haven't seen one another
in over a century. If truth be told, most of us don't care for each
other. Kelsa—she is the great scrying crystal, the most accurate viewer
of the future ever crafted, and she has never made a direct statement
since the day she was carved. When time is of the essence, she cannot
get to the point!"

"That's your specialty." I grinned.

"You have a sharp wit yourself, my friend."

"So, what am I supposed to do with you?" I asked. "I don't really need a
trophy for my wall, especially not a talk­ing trophy."

The blue eyes looked alarmed. "Nay, friend, I wouldn't want to be a
fixture. For a time I was embedded in the wall of yonder eating
establishment," the sword managed to glance in the direction of the
street. Out the inn's door I could see a red-walled hut with customers
emerging carrying flat, gooey comestibles that were this dimension's
equivalent of pizza. "I lived side by side with a wain's worth of junk
from all over this dimension. I was only freed from the endless chatter
of 'tonight's specials' and 'two-for-one dinners' when the patrons

finally decreed that they would no more sit at the table be­neath my
prisoning brackets. I think they did not like my com­ments upon the
resemblance between their meals and the guts of enemies I have slain.
That is when I was vended unceremo­niously to yonder merchant."

"They just didn't appreciate good dinner conversation, I said, grinning.
"I know a couple of pretty good swordsmen who would take care of you in
your old age. Keep you all buffed up, listen to your stories."

The sword got huffy. "I do not need shielding! I need to be cast forth
into fate's way once again, so that I may end up where I am needed next.
Friend, you have proven to be an intelligent being who sees more than a
few ducats at the end of the next trade."

"Who says?" I interrupted him.

"I need your help."

"Mine?"

"Aye, yours."

"Forget it, bud," I said. "I'm on vacation. I'll take you as far as the
next war, then we part company."

For the first time the eyes bore an expression of appeal.

"Honorable master Pervect, I beseech you. Listen to my story. Then, if
you must place me in the hand of some mudstained lad who is throwing
himself into the battle, I will accept it."

"Fine. Suppose you can't buy me a drink." I glanced around for a likely
spot.

"Nay, such is not my talent. I am sorry. I have been waiting for one
such as you. I have heard word from a passing dagger that my fellow
Hoard members are being /collected. /One greedy individual is gathering
all of them up. This must not happen. We cannot gather dust upon a shelf
for all eternity. We must be free to blow in Fate's wind."

I chugged the last of my second bucket and signed to the lass for a
third one. She delivered it with some dispatch, and retreated. Guess
that not many of her customers took a table

for the purpose of talking to their weapons. "Sorry, skinny, but I
stopped doing freebies, especially big, legendary freebies, not long
after I stopped being an apprentice myself."

"Did I mention that one of our members is the Endless Purse of Money?"
the sword asked, the reflected eyes gleaming.

I stopped in mid-gulp, entranced by the memory of that legend. There
wasn't a Pervect child who heard it in school who didn't have itchy
palms and avaricious dreams about it. "Well, yes..."

"Whatever you can get out of her, that shall be your reward."

"I've heard offers like that phrased before, and not just about money,"
I said. "Forget it."

The sword's eyes dipped with understanding. "Very well, I shall persuade
her to give you whatever sum you require. On my honor, we will reward
you more than adequately. Thou­sands of gold pieces shall be yours. Tens
of thousands. But, first, we must find her."

The offer sounded better the longer I hesitated. "Well...all right. What
do we do first?"

"You must take me to Kelsa. She is the only one of the Hoard whose
location I know, and the only one who could tell us the location of the
others. Then we will find each of them and free them from their captivity."

"Not part of the deal," I said, seeing visions of money bags winging
away from me. "Forget it. I'm not going off on a quest just because you
want to put the band back together. You wanted out of the flea market,
and you're out. From my point of view you owe me a hundred gold pieces.
That's all."

"But...care you nothing for the greater good?"

"Just because you and your buddies get cabin fever?" I snarled. "I don't
think so. I'm just going to hang out here and have a little snack, then
I'm..."

At that moment, the door burst inward. In a flurry of hair, the crowd
from the square came rushing inside, the junk merchant at their head.

"There he is!" the Ittschalkian exclaimed. "The one who cheated me!
We'll tear the hairless one apart!"

I had already sprung to my feet. Somehow the hilt of the sword sprang
into my hand.

"Draw me, friend!" the sword shouted. "Let me drink of their blood. We
will be victorious! Have at you, varlets!"

The mass of Ittschalkians was closing in. As a matter of course I have
all the exits from a place scoped out in advance in case of just such a
moment as this. I made for the rear of the establishment, only to come
face to face with the local gendarmes bounding toward me with purpose in
their eyes. One of them was raising a particularly nasty-looking magikal
wand from its hip holster. I had no choice. I reached into my pocket for
the D-hopper that had brought me there to Ittschalk, and hit RECALL.

/BAMF!/

Chapter 2

THE INN VANISHED. It was replaced in a magikal second by an equally
dimly-lit room, but most of the occupants were already on the floor.
Loud music filled the air, along with the indelible stink of stale ale
mixed with vomit, fried food and unwashed bodies. The frat party I'd
left behind in Bonhomme was still going on. I found myself straddling an
upended beer stein and a purple banner reading "Vertebrates Rule!" A
couple of the drunks on the carpet lifted their snakelike heads and
tasted the air.

"Aahz!" one of them hissed. His black-bead eyes gleamed with pleasure.
"You're back! Have another drink!"

"No, thanks, Sllisssiik," I said. "Just here to make a pit stop."

Sllisssiik aimed his tongue toward the doors at the rear of the room.
"On the left, but watch your step. Tktktksssni went back to shed his
skin and disgorged the prey he'd engulfed all over the floor."

"Poltroon," the sword said, sulkily. "Not one of those cai­tiffs back
there was armed with anything sharper than a butter knife, and you whisk
me away from the only good fight I have seen in ten years."

I glared. "Shut up, or I'll use you to shave with."

"Who's your friend?" asked Sllisssiik, blinking at the blue eye that
stuck up over the torn edge of the leather scabbard.

"Ersatz am I," the sword said.

"Cool." The Bonhommey giggled and slid back to the floor.

The sword returned its keen gaze to me. "Well, friend Aahz, if you
return to Ittschalk you will walk into a fight. I would gladly be at
your side, but you say you care not for a hearty battle. Misadventure
has thrown us together. What say we cast our lots into fate's wind?"

"The only 'lots' I'm interested in is the money you owe me," I pointed out.

The blue eyes were wistful. "Alas, I cannot repay my debt to you if you
do not carry me to my friend Kelsa's side. If you'd lief not, I would
understand, but we both feel strongly. I care not for being in debt, and
you do not care to be owed. Indulge me yet one more time, friend Aahz.
You will not re­gret it."

"I regret it already." My temper was up. I missed my snack, my third
beer, and my quiet walk around the town. I wanted a vacation, and
instead I got a sword that speaks fluent Forsooth. If I bent it into
paperclips I couldn't get my ten gold pieces back. I stuck my finger at
the blade between the eyes where its nose would be, if it had a nose.
"All right, I'll give you one chance. How do I find your crystal friend?"

"She is in Ori."

/BAMF!/

It had been about twenty years since I last visited Ori. Nice enough
dimension, but the rice beer didn't have the hit of good sake, and the
women weren't interested in a guy with scales. Too bad, because they
were a nice bunch of pussycats.

We appeared at the edge of Perrt, the second-largest town. Getting by
the sentry box at the main gate took only a mo­ment. The guards, who
resembled enormous, sinewy black leopards, inspected my baggage, which
consisted of one talk­ative sword, cash and the toothbrush in my pocket,
and rubbed their jaws along my thigh, scent-marking me to indicate I'd
passed inspection.

"Kelsa has spent the last hundred or so years counseling the great seer
Ori Ella," Ersatz explained as I followed his directions through the
maze of streets that wound in between the white painted plastered
houses. "She is a great wisewoman, who has made good use of my friend's
gifts."

I was a whole lot less interested in her gifts than I was in ridding
myself of my talkative companion. We dodged a huge cart full of silver
fish each the size of my torso, and the parade of Orion shoppers
following behind it with an insane gleam in

their eyes. I had the urge—resistible, fortunately—to yell "Here, kitty,
kitty! Din-dins!" I quite rightly judged it would be the last thing I
ever did. It would have picked the fight of a life­time with the locals,
who were touchy about their resemblance to the small animal that was a
house pet in over a hundred other dimensions. Ersatz would have been
thrilled about it. While I walked he told me tales of his past
derring-do, and he had a million of them, literally. Still, as I watched
those long tails switching avidly on those furry behinds as they
followed the fish cart, it would have been fun.

"...It was a sight you might have relished, friend Aahz. There they were
before us, sixteen black-masked ruffians, each with six swords clutched
in their many hands. They moved in upon us. I guided the hand of my
young ward. Up, to guard in prime! Over hand, stabbing downward, into
the vital midsec-tion of the first attacker. My blade passed right
through the body and out the back into the lowest right wrist of another
villein, severing the hand. Back out! My wielder drew me over his head
in a two-handed stance and brought me down and around, spinning. I
turned my blade so my sharpest edge was outward, and we severed the
necks of three of them on the spot. Hah!"

I held up a hand to put an end to the spate. "Are we going the right
way?" I asked.

The keen eyes surveyed the streets. "Aye. We are within a street's
length. Do you turn left at the clock tower which yon felinoids are
stropping their talons upon, and we will be upon Ella's doorstep in no
more than a dozen paces."

I have good eyesight, but it took another hundred feet be­fore I focused
on the shapes at the base of the tower. He was right. The clock tower
looked like a popular meeting spot for the citizens of Perrt, a hundred
or so of whom were spaced out around its square base, claws out and
raking hard at the surface, which seemed to be made of a soft stone.
From hun­dreds of years of wear it had been carved into long narrow
ridges like corduroy. The Orions gossiped as they clawed, and

came away from the walls with their fingernails honed to fine points and
ears full of the latest news, the local variation on the old water
cooler. I skirted them and counted twelve paces to the second doorstep.

"Mount here, good Aahz," Ersatz said. "Kelsa is within."

Ori Ella's tabby housemaid answered the door and left us in the hallway.
I had given her my name, but told her I'd state my business to the
mistress of the house. She took that without question. I would have bet
that over 80% of visitors did the same thing. Either the seer would know
all about us without having to be told, or she was a charlatan, and
she'd get out of me what she could read from my body language when we met.

Apparently, Kelsa was good at choosing the company she kept. The arched
door at the end of the hall burst open, and an Orion with pure white fur
came bustling toward me, shimmering blue and green robes fluttering in
her wake. She had huge blue-green eyes with vertical pupils that were
open into wide ovals.

"Oh, Mr. Aahz, Kelsa has talked of nothing but you for the last two
hours! Where is he? Oh, yes, I forgot!" She tit­tered, and put a coy paw
to her breast. "You don't know me, and you don't trust me. I'm Ella.
Welcome! Where is Ersatz?"

She was the real thing. I was impressed. In my experience, fortune
tellers were either deluded sensitives who thought the voices in their
head had some mystical significance, or scam artists who used a
combination of psychology, body reading and shrewd guesses to tell the
customers what they wanted to hear. I hadn't mentioned the sword's name
since we hit the dimension, so she could not have heard it from an agent
or a spy-eye. I hiked Ersatz a foot or so out of his scabbard. His eyes
gleamed.

"Honored, my lady," the sword said.

"A pleasure," the seer replied, beaming down at him. "Both of you, come
right this way! Oh, we have felt for weeks that monumental changes were
upon us. I am only glad that you

were able to get here so quickly. I've had a dreadful feeling that
something was going to go /wrong, /but I'd rather be wrong about being
wrong. Don't you agree?"

Still babbling, she swept around and led us toward the door from which
she had emerged. I followed in her wake, rolling my eyes.

The house might have been a mansion, but the room she led us to could
have been any gimcrack psychic's tent any­where in the cosmos. The room
was lit with candles in sconces. The wicks all smoked like
sportscasters. The air was thick and tasted of cheap paraffin. All the
furniture was covered with loud-colored silk throws, three or four to an
item, so that a customer had to plant his feet firmly on the floor to
keep from sliding off. There was lots of it. I had to watch my step in
the dimness to avoid bumping into little tables filled with useless
knickknacks that would have made any Victorian auntie beam with pride of
ownership, like a clock shaped like a tarantula that told time with two
of the arms, and a bronze ceramic vase so ugly I was surprised it hadn't
scared the petals off the flowers in it. Amid the tables were four or
five bureaus and a dozen upholstered chairs with stiffly upright backs.
The por­traits on the walls were of the Angry Ancestors school of art. I
got glared at by assorted curmudgeonly Orions of both gen­ders in
various weird costumes, informing me that Ella wasn't the first one in
her family to lack dress sense. I glared back.

All the kitschy decor faded into a dim setting as my eye was caught by a
blaze of pure golden light. In the center of the room, on a little round
table with a purple, star-spangled cloth, was a sphere. It was so
perfectly shaped it reminded me of a soap bubble. It glowed like a movie
sunrise. My feet started moving toward it under their own power. I
hauled back, re­minding my body to whom it belonged, but I kept my eyes
on the gleaming orb.

"Kelsa!" Ersatz said.

"Ersatz!" the globe squealed. As I got closer I could see a face in the
sphere, that of a female Orion wearing a turban

adorned with a big gold aigrette and a backward-curving os­trich plume
and jeweled spectacles whose corners angled up­ward. Her whiskers
pricked out with delight. "The portents have come to pass. The energies
have aligned themselves in the order I foretold as of old. I knew you
were coming."

"Indeed she did," Ella said, gliding over and settling down on the
ottoman beside the table. She gestured me to a small chair opposite her.
"Why we have been talking about it for some time. I am pleased that you
are here. Why, your exploits have absolutely thrilled me to the core of
my soul!"

I preened. "Thanks, Ella. I don't talk about myself much, but it's nice
to be appreciated."

"And, you, too, of course, Mr. Aahz," Ella added, with an apologetic
inclination of her head. "Your past has been a /most /interesting tale.
We didn't know until a very short time ago that you were the one who was
going to convey the Great Sword Ersatz here to this place!"

I scowled. The face in the globe turned to face me, and became that of a
female Pervect.

''Your fate has been foretold many times," Kelsa said, "and it changes
as frequently as the weather. I believe that the Ele­ments who govern
chance send you to tumble like the dice they throw, yet you constantly
turn up with a winning number. Oft and oft your future has altered. A
benevolent power must be in your stars. How confusing it must be to
constantly turn this way and that!"

"I take care of myself," I said curtly.

"I'm going to miss her so much," Ella said, stroking the crystal fondly
with her paw. "We've had such marvelous times together! We've gotten to
be good friends over these last few years, haven't we, dear?" She leaned
fondly toward the globe, and the face within it became an Orion again.
"And we've had our fun."

"Oh, we certainly have," Kelsa exclaimed. "Do you recall when the
governor of Perrt came to ask—was it the first time, or the second time?
No! It was the third visit after the great

festival of Wheeleaf five years ago. Or was it six? About the three
women he was keeping behind his wife's back?"

Ella tittered. "And one of them had sent a spy along in his entourage.
How foolish of him to think he could come incog­nito to US. Why, you saw
through her at once."

"Ah, yes," Kelsa said. "And he was having an affair with her, too. Silly
girl. She didn't know whom she was going to betray first. Well, she DID,
since she was there to betray the governor first, but then she was going
to turn her coat on the mistress, but she wasn't sure in what order she
was going to do the betraying!"

I began to see what Ersatz meant by Kelsa's inability to get to the
point. Ella was a perfect match for her.

"Never mind that," I said, waving a hand to get their at­tention. "The
sword here came for some advice. He wants to know the location the
Endless Purse of Money. Give it to him so I can get out of here and get
back to my vacation."

"Oh, your vacation!" Kelsa said, turning the Pervect face to me. She
beamed, showing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Why, you won't have to worry
about your vacation. Not at all."

"Good," I said. "Okay, Ersatz, say your piece and let's get out of here."

"Fair Kelsa," Ersatz began, "I have suffered idleness for the last many
months. I wish to return to battle in the hands of warriors, but I have
also heard a disturbing rumor concerning the fate of our fellow Hoard
members. Is it true?"

"But, /which /rumor, dear?" Kelsa asked, switching her at­tention to
him. Her face changed from scales to steel, but the glasses were still
in place on her now razor-sharp nose. "Did you hear the one about the
Cup? He was said to have been offered as a prize in a school games day
competition. That one is true. He was won by an eight-year-old Klahd for
the twenty yard dash! Second place! He sits on a shelf between a
collec­tion of toy soldiers and a box of stale Milk-Duds. He's livid!
What a comedown for the goblet that held the Wine of Peace between the
Comdails and the Lenoils of Perosol!"

"Not that," Ersatz said.

"Or—here's one that made me laugh—I'm supposed to have been secretly
transformed into a bowling ball in the Imper League Championships!"
Kelsa let out a trill of laughter. "Pic­ture me rolling down a lane
toward a group of clueless pins to score a mere ten points."

"I can, no problem," I growled.

"About the rest of us, Kelsa," Ersatz urged. "I heard that the others
are being stolen one by one, by a /collector!'/

"Oh, /that" /Kelsa said. "That's not nearly so amusing as the one I
picked up the other day from the ether. You just wouldn't believe it! I
hear that the ring is living in..."

"That's the only one I want to hear about, Kelsa," Ersatz interrupted her.

"But it's so dreary!"

"Reveal it!"

The globe sighed, seeming to deflate slightly. The face in­side stilled,
and the eyelids dropped halfway over the round blue eyes. The turban on
her head got fancier, and the stone in the aigrette started to glow
bright gold. The eyes started to change size, one growing huge while the
other shrank, then shrinking as the other bulged.

"The treasures of the ages shall reunite again," Kelsa in­toned in a
spooky voice that made the skin on my back crawl. "The seven golden ones
shall be gathered again by a green hand. When allies stand at odds,
fortune shall favor the one who casts them to the winds of chance. An
enemy pursues closely, eager to foil happiness! The eternal dance must
be set again in motion, led by a duo from two worlds. Ah! Lives may be
lost! Fates will change! Disaster will fall upon the heads of the
masses! Dentek up two, Porcom down a half, Scongreb unchanged in heavy
trading..."

"A green hand! That must be you, Mr. Aahz," Ella said, beaming at me.
"You are meant to put the Hoard together!"

"All right, that's it," I said, disentangling myself from the slippery
cloths and scrambling to my feet. "I've had it. All I

promised to do was get Ersatz here together with his girl­friend so I
could get my money back. Forget it. I'll call it a bad debt." My face
felt hot. I needed to get out of there before I trashed the place out of
sheer temper. Ten gold pieces lost! I smacked the scabbard down on the
table and stalked toward the door.

"Nay, Aahz," Ersatz protested.

Ella rushed to intercept me. She put a hand on my arm. "Oh, won't you
please reconsider, Mr. Aahz," she said, flutter­ing her large eyes at
me. "It's not often that one is asked to become an instrument of fate!"

"I don't care if you want me to be lead saxophone in a jazz quartet," I
snarled. "I'm outta here."

"...Lakers 32, Bulls 98...aaiiiieeee!"

"Stop her!" Ersatz's voice rang out.

Ella and I spun on our heels. It took me a moment to fig­ure out what
was wrong, since it seemed as though the lights had gone out. The
crystal was gone!

"After her!" Ersatz shouted. The blue eyes reflected in his shimmering
blade were wide with anger.

"How'd she get out of here?" I demanded.

"The green wench!"

"What green wench? Where'd she go? How'd she get out?"

"Up there, caitiff," Ersatz said. I followed the direction his eyes were
pointing, up the wall to the single window in the room, twenty feet
above the floor. Its small wing casements were open, and the light
muslin curtains fluttered in the breeze. It didn't look big enough for
anyone to have entered that way, but clearly someone had. "She slipped
down like a wraith. It was the work of a moment to smother Kelsa in a
cloth to still her outburst, then up again, all without making a sound!"

I may not have my magik at the moment, but I can sense when it's been
used. This was not a hit and run. It was a surgi­cal invasion, quick,
precise and disturbing nothing more than it had to. This was a
professional theft.

"Is anything else missing?" I asked Ella.

"Well, I don't think so," the Orion said, peering around with her big,
glowing eyes. "There shouldn't be. This is exactly what she predicted,
after all."

"She did? She predicted this?"

"Oh, yes. She said she'd probably be stolen before she could finish
telling you the prophecy about the Golden Hoard," Ella said. "And that's
exactly what happened! I'm so pleased!"

She wasn't going to be any help. I ignored her and sur­veyed the room
for clues.

"Did you leave that window open, Ella?" I asked.

"Why, no. It's so difficult to reach. I rarely use it. On the outside,
it's a sheer drop of thirty feet to the ground. My good­ness, this is
exciting!"

"Exciting?" I asked.

"Was it locked?" Ersatz asked.

"Forget that," I told him. Any good thief worth his salt, or in this
case, hers, wouldn't be stopped by a little latch. Come on." I grabbed
him up and ran out. The chances of spotting the thief were vanishingly
minute, but I had to try. Ella's voice rang behind me.

"Kelsa told me that there would be some slight hiccup when the two of
you met again, but I had no idea it would be now!"

I jogged down the steps of the whitewashed house and around the corner
into the alley that the window overlooked. As Ella has said, it was a
steep wall with no handholds in sight. That would be no problem for a
professional. Whoever it had been must have run off over the adjacent
rooftops, which were so nearby that anyone could have made the jump
unas­sisted by magik.

"Have after her at once, Aahz!" Ersatz demanded. "Wrest Kelsa from her
grasp! I must know my fate!"

"Forget it, Bub," I said.

"What?"

I peered around, hoping to spot something that would give me a clue.

"I know a few professional second-story operators. They only work alone
after dark. Usually during daylight they've got at least one lookout,
maybe some hired muscle close by. I'm not going to dive into a trap.
We're going to take this nice and easy."

"But she will be far away by now! Possibly in another di­mension."

I met the sharp blue eyes on the blade. "If she could have magiked in
and out without coming in the window, she would have. Nobody takes
chances like that unnecessarily, and not for free, either. Speaking of
which..." I opened my hand, as if about to let Ersatz fall in the gutter
in front of Ella's house.

"Anything!" the sword said. "I will offer you a further re­ward, good Aahz."

I grinned. "Nice to see we're on the same page. All right. Let's see
what we're dealing with. You're the sole eye-witness to the crime.
Describe our perp. She's green. What else?"

"A well-shaped wench, or so many of my wielders would have described
her. Tight garments, and yet they did not re­strict the movement of her
limbs, of which there were only four' two arms, affixed at shoulders to
an upright torso on either side of the base of the neck, and two legs,
affixed like­wise, to the bottom of said torso. Musculature endoskeletal..."

"Cut to the chase! What dimension does she come from?"

"Oh, /that. /Well, then, good friend, she hails from that most
fascinating of places, where dimorphism is of an extreme, in inverse
character to many species for whom the female is the larger of the two
in order to better conceive and carry off­spring, a comparison that is
something apposite in this case since the females are readily fond of
mating..."

"What is she?" I bellowed, my voice ringing in the quiet street.

"A Trollop," Ersatz said. "A most limber one, like many of her species.
A denizen of Trollia.. .why do you break into a smile? Is that good news?"

"Did I ever tell you," I said, unable to keep the glee off my face,
"that I don't believe in coincidences?"

Chapter 3

IT TOOK A while to search out the local hostelries that served demons,
but with a few threats and a couple of small coins to help spur
memories, I got the names and locations of ones where a Trollop might
hang out, if she had just finished a suc­cessful job and hadn't left Ori
yet.

'Demon' doesn't mean 'terrifying monster from hell' as it does to races
in backwater places where advanced magik and science are unknown—all
right, it doesn't ALWAYS mean that. It's simply a shorthand way of
saying 'dimensional traveler,' like myself and countless others who have
the means of hop­ping in between locales at will. That's not to say that
when we land in some places we're not considered to be terrifying
mon­sters from hell. Some of the uncomplimentary descriptions I've heard
of my kind have been enough at times to make me lose my temper, and
anyone you ask will tell you that doesn't happen too often. That is, if
they know what's good for them.

The inns where we tend to congregate have a few things in common, such
as a magikal link to the Bank of Zoorik, off-dimension newspapers, a
host of mercenaries and other be-ings-for-hire, and a hot grapevine
where gossip, rumors and job offers are mixed up with the local news.
They're not al­ways friendly or comfortable places.

The first demon bar I visited had all the charm of the wait­ing room in
the Bucharest airport. No one was there but a couple of loudly-dressed
Imps hanging over a table in the cor­ner drinking up the proceeds from
the day's sale of snake oil to the locals. The second had just been
raided by the Perrt Constabulary to haul away a drunken Ogre and the
angry Sala­mander he'd ticked off. There wasn't anything left to sit on.
All the furniture was smashed or burned, and the Orion pro­prietor was
curled into a furry fetal ball in the corner behind the ruined counter.

We struck lucky, as I could have guessed, in hostelry number three. Even
though the lights were pretty low I could see that the place was
crowded. Hardly an Orion was in sight except for the bartender and the
barmaids who swished their abundantly furry tails playfully around the
patrons. Conver­sations, furtive or fueled by alcohol, were going on in
every part of the big room. I walked in with Ersatz displayed in plain
sight on my hip, golden hilt and gems glinting. I nodded to a couple of
Deveels playing Dragon Poker, and cleared my throat.

"Yo, bartender," I called. "A table for me and my sword."

The elderly tabby Orion polishing bowls and glasses glanced around, then
nodded toward a rickety two-top in the corner near the stairs. Every eye
in the room followed me as I saun­tered over and plopped myself down in
a chair. Within mo­ments, I felt a saucy tickle at the fringe of my
right ear.

"Surprise," a voice breathed. "Is that a hand-and-a-half in that
scabbard, or are you just glad to see me?"

A pair of lips planted themselves firmly on mine. When I could breathe
again, I gasped out, "Tananda."

My old associate and even older friend backed away and smiled at me. "In
the flesh, tiger."

"This is she," Ersatz said, "down to garments she was wearing when she
sailed down the cord in Ella's study."

"How nice of you to notice," Tananda purred.

I let my eyes wander up and down Tananda's body. You can't say that
female denizens of Trollia don't know the mean­ing of the word
'modesty,' but you might decide after having met a few that they have no
use for it. Her attire was not only suitable for slipping in and out of
small window casements, but for displaying those charms for which
Trollops were so justly famous. Her tunic dove low at the top and
reached high at the bottom, leaving just enough cloth in place over
delec­table flesh so as not to leave a trail of stunned males behind her
as she walked down the street. Her skin was green, as were her tumbled
locks of hair. It all made a very nice package.

"Fancy meeting you here," I said. "Have a seat, babe."

"I thought that was you I saw in the fortune-teller's," Tananda said.
The lithe oozing movement that settled her into the chair opposite mine
caused a dozen males in the bar to let out a breathy sigh. I gave them a
glare, and they hastily went back to their drinks. "There aren't a lot
of Pervects on Ori, and none I've seen with your dress sense. What are
you doing here?"

"Trying to help a friend," I said. "What about you?"

"Oh," Tananda said, running her finger through a few drops of liquor on
the tabletop, "I've got a little job."

"Lifting the crystal ball from a psychic isn't exactly your usual
high-level handiwork," I said.

"Visiting one isn't usually on your calendar, either," Tanda countered,
with a sweet smile. "Let's stop talking as if we don't know one another.
That wasn't an ordinary crystal ball. I have information that says it's
part of the Golden Hoard, along with a sword that looks a lot like the
one you carried in here. So, let's talk."

I could tell by the look in the one eye visible over the torn scabbard
that Ersatz was going to put his two cents in, so I flung up a hand to
forestall him. "Let's not start spreading any rumors we can't squelch."

"Fine. I'll show me mine if you show me yours." Tananda grinned lazily
at me.

"Promises, promises," I said, grinning back. "Excuse me while I whip
this out." I slid the blade about a foot out of the sheath so both of
the reflected eyes were visible. "Tanda, this is Ersatz, just like in
the legend. Ersatz, this is Tananda."

"My pleasure, my lady," the sword said.

"Mine, too," Tananda replied, giving a little wave of her fingers. "So,
what's going on?"

"We need that crystal ball back that you lifted. My friend here has
business with it."

"You can't have it," another female voice said, in a strange accent. "It
belongs to me, now."

I looked up. A lithe figure was suddenly standing next to Tanda. Where
the Trollop was curvy, this girl was aerobics-instructor wiry. Where
Tanda's hair fell enticingly all over her shoulders, the newcomer had
her sleek black hair plastered down against her head and bullied into a
shining knot at the nape of her neck. The rest of her face was a sharp,
narrow beak, over which a pair of large, dark eyes regarded me. She
looked a lot like a stork, or maybe an ostrich. She was wearing a tight
tunic, abbreviated to show her navel, if one had been visible through
the covering of feathers on her midsection, and loose trousers that cut
off just below her knees.

"Who are you?" I growled. Instead of replying, the girl lifted her
prominent proboscis proudly.

"Aahz, this is Calypsa," Tananda said. "My new partner. This place has a
translation spell operating for demons."

"I heard what you said," Calypsa continued, her big, dark eyes gleaming.
"That is Ersatz, the Great Sword."

"In the steel," I said.

"What do you want for it?"

"Not for sale, babe. He's an independent contractor. In fact, we're
working together at the moment.

"But I must have it!" Her eyes flashed again. They were pretty nice eyes.

"No can do. The sword owes me money. We're together until he pays me
off. You got a hundred gold pieces?" The girl's eyes fell. "I didn't
think so."

The gaze lifted and battened onto mine. "You must under­stand. I must
bring together the greatest treasures of the ages. I need them all!"

A little alarm bell went off in my mind. I met Ersatz's eyes, and I knew
he was thinking the same thing I was. The rumor was true. Someone /was
/collecting the Hoard. So, I asked the only practical question.

"Why?"

With the same kind of silken glide Tananda had used, Calypsa poured
herself into the remaining chair. The movement looked

totally different performed by the two women. Tananda seemed to be
careless and sexy, but she had set herself up so she was on guard, ready
to spring into action if there was trouble. Calypsa was focused, the
energy of her motion aimed directly at me. If she'd been a missile I'd
have been spattered all over the bar.

"It is my grandfather," she began. "The greatest dancer in any
dimension, the great Calypso."

"What's he need with a sword and a crystal ball?" I asked. "I don't
think there's a pair of shoes in the Golden Hoard."

"Once such footgear tried to join us," Ersatz began, "but we chivvied
them hence. They were not so much of utility in the courtly art as they
were mundane covering for the nether extremities, which the gold did not
become..."

"Shut up," I interrupted, without taking my eyes off Calypsa. "Your
grandfather did what?"

The proud head drooped. "I come from Walt. It is a peace­ful
dimension—or I should say, was."

"Yeah, Tootsie, I've been there. Peaceful to the point of boring!"

"Maybe before," Calypsa said. "That was before the evil Barrik arrived!"

"When was that?"

"Ten years ago. I live in a town called Pavan, at the curve of a major
river just north of our largest port. At first we made no note of the
castle being built on the hillside that overlooked the river. All of our
lords like to have large domiciles so that they can host parties and
dances. All Walts love to dance. It is in our blood. It is the source of
our magik. In fact, a major rhythm was named for our dimension. Have you
ever heard of Walts' Time?"

"In passing," I said. "Get on with it."

"We thought nothing of it when the castle grew to encom­pass the entire
mountain top. It was made all of shiny black gran­ite, which we
considered an odd color choice, but we were more curious that we never
saw anyone working on the building. We

believed the stones must be shifted at night by giant elves, or
something. It was a puzzle. I myself sneaked up there often as a child,
but always when I arrived, the elves had left the building."

I groaned. She gave me a puzzled look, and explained. "There was no one
there. Yet the walls grew daily. At last, it was finished. We of Pavan
waited to be introduced to our new neighbors, and hold a welcome dance
in celebration. Weeks went by. They never emerged. No one answered our
knocks at the great wooden doors. We left invitations on the step to our
own humble village dances. No replies. We began to think that our
neighbor was antisocial. But how antisocial we had no idea! Henchmen
like huge, evil birds began to emerge from the castle. They swept down
upon our humble homes and cap­tured the finest dancers in the city.
Sometimes we would find them again, wandering lost and dazed in the
fields, their feet bloody. Barrik had commanded them to dance until they
dropped! Their choreography had been inexorably altered. They were never
able again to make the magik they had before, such as the Dance of
Sowing, so the crops would be healthy, or the Dance of Precipitation to
bring the rain. We were all fearful of being swooped down upon and
carried off.

"At last, his minions captured my grandfather, the greatest dancer in
the land. According to the other prisoners who were set free, my
grandfather refused Barrik's orders. He stood, un­willing to yield a
single shuffle-ball-change. Barrik threatened terrible torture, but my
grandfather would not be treated like a common entertainer. At last, the
great Calypso performed the Dance of Insult, fleering his defiance right
in Barrik's face. Barrik was furious!"

"Well, hurray for the old boy," I said. "How's this involve us?"

"When Calypso did not emerge from the castle as the others had, a huge
group of us went and demanded to have him set free. I stood before the
doors, begging Barrik to de­liver my grandfather. The next thing I knew,
I was in a room

before a stone throne. The creature that sat upon it—too horrible to
behold!"

I glanced at Tananda. "By the description he's a Dile," she said. "Green
scales, long teeth."

"What's wrong with green scales and long teeth?" I de­manded.

"Not everyone likes the overlapping shingle look, Aahz," Tanda said,
patiently. "Now, I kind of like it, but you know what Troll men look
like, so I'm not your most unbiased judge."

"Fine," I snarled. "Get past chapters twelve to forty-eight already. I
want the upshot, now!"

Calypsa glared right back at me. "He told me the old man would die for
the insult he had given him. I swore to do any­thing he wished, if only
he would free my grandfather. I even promised to do the Dance of Lust
for him, but he refused." Her eyes flashed again. "He said the only way
I can regain my grandfather's life is to procure a great treasure for
him. I must subdue and bring him all the members of the Golden Hoard. He
has given me but thirty days to complete the task. Already ten of them
have elapsed."

I shook my head. "Guy's a regular Wizard of Oz," I said. The girl looked
at me blankly. "Forget it. Before your time."

"With the great crystal I have two of the treasures," the girl went on.
"You would not consider helping me by giving me the sword, would you?"

"Au contraire," I snapped back. "I heard a prophecy that says that the
Hoard should not be gathered together under any circumstances. Disaster
will fall, and all the hokey words."

"But I must save my grandfather! The great Calypso must dance free!"

I looked at Tanda.

"Seems to me the best way is just to break the old man out of the shiny
black castle on the hill," I said, reasonably.

"Impossible," Tananda said. "I've been over the place myself. This man
takes his Evil-Overlording seriously. There isn't a weak spot anywhere
where I could break in and make it

all the way to the dungeons without being caught. His guards never
sleep, and they're made of stone. Half of them are Gar­goyles, half are
Diles, and they don't like each other."

I moved on to the next practical consideration. "What about taking out
the Dile himself? Remove the head and the body usually collapses."

"Never goes out without heavy-duty magikal shields and about a dozen
guards. He's better protected than the next /Wiz­//ard School /novel."

"Hmm." Tananda knew her stuff. Second-story work was a sideline for her.
She had been one of M.Y.T.H., Inc's great­est assets with her
experience, brains and charm, but she had another sideline:
assassination. If she couldn't close with a target, that was serious.

Tananda tried reason. "Perhaps we can work together."

"We are at cross-purposes here, Tanda. Ersatz doesn't want to be
collected. All he wants is to have a conversation with Kelsa and we're
out of here. I don't have any interest but getting my investment back.
I'm on vacation. I'm sorry, kid," I told Calypsa. "Good luck, but you're
going to be at least one gadget shy."

"No!" Calypsa protested. Before I could move, she had swooped down and
seized Ersatz from where he lay on the table.

I made a grab for her, but she zipped out of reach again.

"How'd she do that?" I sputtered, staring at my empty hands. "I couldn't
follow her on a broomstick!"

"The Dance of Speed," Tananda said, amused. "Her family's famous for it."

"Whew! I have never seen a dance that was practical for anything but
seduction before."

"Well, get used to it," Tananda said. "She's got a bundle of them. You
should have seen her up on that roof. I'm an old hand at second-story
work, but that Dance of Balance of hers had her tippy-toeing along the
eaves like an Orion."

I eyed the girl, and she eyed me back. Fancy footwork was one thing, but
low-down cunning was another. She didn't have

any of that. If she was hanging on to Ersatz, she couldn't have Kelsa in
her immediate possession.

"Kelsa!" I shouted. "Where are you? Ersatz needs to talk to you!" My
voice echoed off the rafters. Everyone in the room turned to stare.

No answering voice replied, but I noticed that the dimness was beginning
to lighten. Within moments a golden glow lit the cobwebbed space under
the stairs. I could see what looked like a clump of undistinguished rags
become incandescent, then blinding.

I grinned at the girls. "Can't talk, but there are other ways of
communicating." I got up to retrieve the crystal.

Before I took two steps, Calypsa was in front of me, her narrow chest
heaving, one feathered hand held over her head in a flourish. "You shall
not pass."

"Don't try me, kid," I said. I stepped around her. She ap­peared in
front of me in the proverbial twinkling, but I was never one to hold
with proverbs.

She was fast. But she was light. I picked her up by the elbows and moved
her out of my way. She eeled in front of me again. I moved her. I heard
a titter of laughter from the rest of the room. I gave the onlookers a
snarl. By the time I turned back, Calypsa was halfway up the stairs, the
glowing bundle in her arms with Ersatz balanced across it.

"You shall not trick me again, Pervert."

I fumed. Tananda chuckled.

"Give it back to him, Cally," she said to the young woman, who clutched
the sword to her breast like the heroine in a bad novel. Tananda
couldn't stop grinning. I snarled. "We want his cooperation. Aahz could
be your best friend, but taking his toys away from him just makes him
bad-tempered."

Eying me distrustfully, Calypsa stepped daintily down the stairs. I
snatched Ersatz from her hand and slipped him half­way out of the sheath.

"You all right in there?"

"Si," he replied.

"All right," I said, smacking the hilt home against the worn leather.
"I'm walking out of here right now. Good luck, kid. I mean that. No hard
feelings," I told Tananda. "I'll figure out some other way of getting
paid back."

"Look, Aahz," the Trollop said, winding herself around me in the way of
a very old friend and whispering in my ear. "We both have something the
other wants. What'll it take to make a deal here?"

"There isn't room for compromise," I said. "You want Er­satz. He's a
free agent here. He doesn't want to be collected."

"But we have something /you/ want: information from Kelsa. Couldn't
you...come along with us for a while, in exchange for that information?
Maybe Barrik will be satisfied having all the Golden Hoard assembled in
one place for a moment. Then you and he can go off again."

I eyed her. "You're not going to tell me you believe he will trade the
old man for a collection of legendary junk, do you?"

"Friend Aahz!" Ersatz burst out.

"No offense meant," I said smoothly. "Come on, Tanda. You weren't born
yesterday."

"Certainly not," Tanda said, tossing back her head full of wavy green
hair. "I'd use it as a ploy to get into the castle. I think it will be a
lot easier to get a shot at him and save Calypsa's grandfather if we
show up carrying what he wants."

"Nay," protested a muffled voice. I pulled Ersatz free. The sharp, dark
eyes reflected in the shining blade were alarmed. "Nay, good Aahz. It
would be a fearsome thing to assemble the Hoard. Why do you think it has
not been done in all these centuries?"

"I'm with him," I said. "I don't invite disaster without a reason."

"Then why did Kelsa say they would be reunited?" Tanda asked,
reasonably. "I could hear everything hanging upside down from the
window-frame. A green hand—that could be either you or me."

"Or Barrik," Calypsa said, faintly. "He is green, too."

"There," Tananda said, beaming. "So, shouldn't we find out more from
Kelsa what she meant?"

"She will not explain properly," Ersatz said. "She has never been able
to keep to a narrative."

"We'll get it out of her," I said. I smacked the table with a palm. "Put
'er there."

Very reluctantly, Calypsa unfolded the cloth that contained the crystal
ball. The second the folds fell away, we could hear what had probably
been an uninterrupted stream-of-conscious-ness, if you could call that
babble consciousness.

".. .this has all been very exciting, you know. I haven't been carried
off in many years! Well, not since I was staying with a Rhinoid fortune
teller, and her neighbors stampeded, taking the entire tent with them on
the tips of their horns as they thundered across the plains. What a ride
that was! I haven't been so bobbled in..." The turbaned head turned
around in a circle, and the eyes behind the diamante glasses blinked at
all of us. "There you are! My goodness, I wondered why no one answered
me. It was dark in there!"

"And she's a seer?" I asked, with a groan.

"She is clueless regarding her own circumstances," Ersatz said,
resignedly. "It was ever thus."

"Hi, er, Kelsa," Tananda said, tapping the crystal ball to get her
attention. The head turned to look at her. Kelsa beamed.

"Oh, yes, you're the one who stole me! Very deft, you know, very deft.
Why, I would think that you're the smoothest thief ever to remove me
in...oh, six centuries!"

"Thanks," Tananda said. "Look, do you know why I took you?"

The eyes blinked. "Why, of course I do, dear. You want to reunite the
Golden Hoard!"

"Can you tell us why you think it might be a bad idea?"

"It depends, dear. What do you consider a bad idea?" Kelsa asked.
"Explosions? War? Fire? Cannibalism?"

Tananda blinked a couple of times. "Yes, those would qualify in my book
as bad ideas."

"Of course you do! I can tell just by looking into your soul." Kelsa
nodded knowingly.

"Tell us why it's going to happen, then."

"Well, because it is! I told you all before."

"No, it is not, Kelsa," Ersatz said. "Have you no memory? Don't you
recall the last time we were all together? What a terrible time that was?"

The large eyes clouded for a moment, then looked alarmed. "It wasn't
that bad, dear. Not really."

"Indeed it was, Kelsa," the sword insisted. "I will not co­operate with
this. Neither will my friend Aahz."

"Wait!" Calypsa pleaded, leaning toward me. "Is there noth­ing that you
would take to let me have this sword and complete my quest, Aahz? Do you
have no heart's desire that I can fulfill?"

"Nothing." I crossed my arms firmly. "One hundred gold pieces, and I'm
out of here. That's all I want."

"Oh, that's easy," Kelsa said, interrupting my protest. Her eyes had
gone all unfocused again. "He wants his magikal pow­ers restored."

"No!" I bellowed. "Not a single thing! Not a.../what?"/

"His powers are gone," Kelsa went on telling Calypsa, as if I hadn't
spoken. "He's been without them a while now, though he's done well
enough by his cunning. Don't discount his brains, dear, in spite of his
looks. A foolish trick by a trusted friend, now dead. A joke, but with
serious consequences."

"Can it be undone?" Calypsa asked.

"Oh, of course!" Kelsa said. "Why..."

I leaned forward, interested in spite of myself.

"No!" Ersatz exclaimed. "We seek only to locate Chin-Hwag. She can help
me to pay my debt. Then we will go. Can you tell me where to find her?"

"Now, wait a moment," I said, holding up a hand to fore­stall him. "It
couldn't hurt to ask the lady. What would it take to get my powers back?"

"Well," Kelsa said, turning her Pervect-face to me. "It might be that
the Cup can help. Or perhaps the Ring. The

Book would have all that information at his fingertips, so to speak,
since all he has is pages. He's full of useful spells. He is, after all,
the Ultimate Grimoire."

"Really?" I asked. The possibility of having my powers re­stored again
had never occurred to me. I had been so relieved to be able to wander
the dimensions freely with the help of the D-hopper that my imagination
hadn't taken me any further—not yet, anyhow. That imagination was
operating at full throttle now. I could be a full magician again? Never
again to be taken advan­tage of by some two-bit huckster who had picked
up half a spell from the back of a box of Witch Crunchies cereal? Not to
set off magikal boobytraps because I couldn't feel the force lines
leading into it from sky or earth? "How do I find them? What do I need
to do to get my powers back?"

I ignored the cat-ate-canary grin on Tanda's face as she sat back in the
chair and swung her boots up on the table top. I was just gathering
facts, that was all.

Kelsa squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated. "Hmm. The possibilities
are most intriguing. Plenty of scope. You need scope."

"Keep the personal remarks to yourself," I growled. "Just read me the
small print, willya?"

"Just a moment, Aahz," Ersatz said, the sharp eyes show­ing panic. "You
cannot agree with their insane plan? It will be a disaster."

"Just considering it," I said, casually. "It doesn't do any harm to hear
what she's got to say, does it?"

"No...I...of course it does! Harden your resolve, friend!"

My resolve was already working on a list of people who had interfered
with my life over the past few years while I had been powerless. It was
compiling a compendium of ways both subtle and nasty for getting even
with them, all the while keeping the connection with me out of the
picture. I had no wish to spend a single moment involved with any
correctional institu­tion, when I was only righting the balance of
justice in my favor. Let's see, there was the Geek, and...

"Aahz!"

"What?" I snarled, coming out of a blissful daydream of the whole
Merchants Association of the Bazaar offering me a percentage of their
profits to avoid having me make informa­tion about their business
dealings public—-all legal and above-board, though underhanded. I liked
the mental picture of all of them, hands trembling, handing over bags of
gold so big they needed wheels to move. It'd take a while, though to get
together enough dirt to make all the Association cave at once, but as
soon as I had my magik back...

Ersatz's keen eyes fixed upon mine. "Aahz, listen to me. I have told you
of the danger. I, who have fought in hundreds of thousands of battles,
have no fear of ordinary war, but I tell you that what these women
propose is dangerous beyond recall!"

"Uh-huh," I said, absently. "So, Kelsa, baby, what have you got?"

"Well, Aahz—I can call you Aahz, can't I?" She blinked at me coyly.

"If you get on with it!"

"The path to regaining your powers is fraught with peril. No sure way
exists to restoration without redemption. Friend­ship stands beside you
but also in your way. Do not destroy that which is, to gain that which
may not yet be."

I wasn't starting to lose patience with her circumlocutions, I was in
the next county already. "Get to the point!"

She tilted her head quizzically. "But, that is the point, dear Aahz. All
of this is important."

"I'm listening. Which one of the Hoard can restore my powers?"

"Well, I am not yet sure," Kelsa said. "This is what I see at the
moment. Look deep!"

I leaned forward and gazed into the crystal ball. The face under the
turban vanished. In its place was a dimly lit room with stone walls. No
clue there' I'd been in houses, castles, museums and dungeons with the
same decor. I saw

myself standing on a dais. My image raised a huge golden cup to its lips
and drank. As the reflection of me lowered the cup, I saw a huge grin on
my face. I knew I echoed the expression as I sat back in the wooden
chair. "All right, I'm on board."

"Thank you, Mr. Aahz!" Calypsa leaped forward and wrapped her feathery
arms around me. For such a lightweight, she had a good grip.

"But I am not!" Ersatz said. "If you try to involve me in this, Aahz,
then know me for your mortal enemy! Our deal is off. I shall not
persuade the Purse to reimburse you for my rescue."

"Oh, yes, you will," I said. "You still owe me the cash."

"Oh, no, I won't." His eyebrows telegraphed danger. "You cannot make me."

"Oh, yes, you will."

"Oh, no, I won't."

I draped the silencing cloth over the blade and let *him *continue his
protests in silence. Tananda protested.

"Aahz!"

I shrugged. "What's he going to do? Walk out of here?"

"Oh, but I don't want him to be angry!" Calypsa dropped gracefully to
her knees beside the sword and plucked the cloth away. She gazed into
the steely orbs glaring out of the blade. "Please, Ersatz, won't you
reconsider? I need your help. My grandfather is the mainstay of our
family. He is in terrible danger, and only the full Hoard will be able
to ran­som him free. I know from Kelsa that you are the head of the
order. You can persuade the others to cooperate. Please. I need your help."

Her big brown eyes had tears in them. I cleared my throat of a sudden
hoarseness. I could tell Ersatz was moved, too. The harsh gaze softened.

"Child, your story touches me. I must continue to warn you that what you
seek to do will rock the very foundations of the universe!"

"Please, sir, I love my grandfather," Calypsa begged. "He is a proud
man. I know that this time he went too far and got himself into danger.
You cannot say no. You just can't!"

Ersatz sighed. "You are courting disaster," he said, then raised the
sharp eyebrows to forestall another outburst. "BUT I will aid you. My
steel is at your service."

"Oh, thank you!" Calypsa said, joining her palms together in a gesture
of thanks. "You will never know what this means to me!"

"Alas, child, you may find out, to your cost."

"Good," I said, slapping my hands together and rubbing them. I could
almost feel the lines of force tingling through my hands again. "We're
all on board. Where do we start?"

Chapter 4

"THEY ARE ALL looking at us," Calypsa said nervously. "They are so
strange looking!"

I grumbled under my breath. "This would all have been a lot easier if
you had let me and Tananda go in alone."

"Nothing doing," the girl said, holding the bundle contain­ing Kelsa
protectively to her narrow chest. "I go where you go. I do not want you
to slip away inconveniently. My grandfather's life is in danger."

"Then, shut up," I said, with a glare I hoped would seal her lips for
the time being. "You don't speak the local lingo, and I don't want
anyone to misconstrue what they think you said." I grinned affably at a
man who was watching us talk. "Nice spring day, isn't it, friend!"

The people of Mernge watched us out of the corners of their eyes as we
went down the street. The trouble with Klahds is their dimension is
almost bereft of magik, and equally de­void of technology. As a result,
very few of them are familiar with either, so the appearance of anything
strange is met with the utmost suspicion. Without the aid of complex
mechanical or magikal means of assistance, Klahds have to rely on animal
power, either their own or another animal's, to get around. Hence, they
don't travel much, so visitors are more rare than in other dimensions.
When roused, Klahds tend to break out in deadly and punitive force.
Sophistication and smooth talk­ing are no match for a rope, an ax or a
torch.I've been on the business end of all three of those unfriendly
greetings more times on Klah than I feel comfortable thinking about. How
they would have reacted to a Pervect, a Trollop and a storklike Walt I
could just imagine, and it wouldn't be pretty.

So you're asking yourself, why weren't they reacting to the sight of a
Pervect, a Trollop and a Walt? In the inter­ests of self-preservation, I
had Tananda put a disguise spell

on the three of us. If I had had my powers, I could have done it in a
wink, no problem, but I had to admit Tananda had done a pretty good job.
I was used to delegating jobs like that now, not a bad skill to have
learned, though I wasn't crazy about the condition that had forced me to
learn it. Still, we were attracting attention anyhow, because we were
clearly not locals.

I always said that the best way to go into any situation was as if you
belonged there. In the guise of a wealthy merchant, I swaggered down the
street, accompanied by my two female associates. Tananda, in her dress
and kirtle, undulated, but she'd exude sex appeal if she was disguised
as a raccoon in bloomers. Klahdish males gawked after her, some with
open mouths.

After a few false starts we'd disguised Calypsa as a school-marm. With
her posture it was either that or a sergeant-major, and I didn't want
people to think that the military was invad­ing their little hamlet. No,
I had come up with a stratagem to separate an eight-year-old boy from
his sports trophy. Not that I had any qualms about getting it away from
him; the trick was to do it so we could remove it and ourselves from the
arena without causing the town elders to examine our credentials too
closely. I could /bamf us /out of the place if we failed in our attempt,
but rumors of that kind of thing has a way of getting around, and I did
not want attention drawn to this little corner of Klah. I rarely paid
any attention to the provinces, except when their existence impacted my
earning potential or well-being in some way. In my experience, most
city-dwellers feel the same as I do. Anyone who lives within smelling
distance of cows is less important than anyone who lives within
nose-range of exhaust fumes.

At any rate, we couldn't help but have to march through town like a trio
of traveling players. Kelsa had been pretty obtuse about finding the
boy, but she let us know by telling us 'hot' or 'cold' whether we were
walking in the correct direc­tion or no. Unfortunately, she didn't know
the meaning of the

word "undertone." Every pronouncement was made at the top of her ringing
voice. Since we couldn't muffle her and still figure out where we were
going, Tanda had to cover every outburst with meaningless chatter.

"Left here!" Kelsa announced.

"My goodness," Tananda exclaimed loudly, for the benefit of the crowd
following us. She veered in that direction, talk­ing loudly over the
crystal ball's continuing babble, something about the cobblestones being
the bumps in the gods' thought process. "What a fine butcher shop
window! Isn't that the best display of cow hooves you have ever seen?"

I stumped along behind her and took a brief gander at the meat display.
The Klahd behind the counter glared at the trio of strangers. He had the
same poleaxed expression as the car­cass hanging on the hook behind him.
He brought his cleaver down with a thunk! Bone chips flew in every
direction. Tananda gave him a winning smile, and sauntered, seemingly at
ran­dom, down the little lane beside the shop. We had left Ersatz out of
town, concealed in the trunk of a hollow tree. He had had second
thoughts about the hunt, in spite of all Calypsa's heart-wrenching
pleas, and had spent plenty of time trying to talk us out of it. We just
couldn't afford to have two disem­bodied voices drawing the crowd's
attention.

"So, watcha doing in Mernge?" a boy asked, running along­side me. He had
red hair, freckles and eyes the same color as pond silt.

"Minding my own business," I snapped.

"That sounds boring!"

"Aahz!" Tananda said, pointedly. She dropped an arm around the brat's
shoulders. "We're scribes from the Margrave's castle. We're here to get
an important story about a boy who took part in a race."

"I ran a race," the boy said, eagerly. "I won the race in front of our
whole school!"

"Not you," Tananda said. "It's another boy who ran that we're interested
in."

"But I won!"

"That's not as interesting to the Margrave as the boy who tried hard,
but didn't succeed," Tananda said. It sounded lame even to me.

I took charge of the conversation. "Bug off, kid. You don't want to get
involved in Margrave's business, do you?"

The kid's face screwed up, making him uglier than ever. He kicked my
shin. "I'll tell my dad on you! He's the mayor! He'll make you interview
me!" I made to grab him, but he ran away. I added him to the list of
people I was going to 'chat with' when I got my powers back. He needed
to learn some manners, one way or another.

"Are you sure this is the best way?" Calypsa asked, with dismay. "The
open approach, in the middle of the day? Why could we not make a secret
visit, perhaps in the night?"

"Right turn, no, left. Left!" Kelsa's voice echoed in the narrow alley.
Tananda gave an apologetic smile to the crowd following us.

"It wouldn't be secret with our own personal foghorn let­ting off like
that," I said. If the crowd was growing suspicious of the disembodied
voice, the swiftly spreading rumor of the Margrave's involvement kept
them from getting too curious about our strange behavior. I began to get
nervous about the formidability of the local laird, and wished we'd done
a little more investigation before we marched into town. Too late, I
thought, squaring my shoulders. Just keep going.

"That's it!" Kelsa screeched happily as we arrived in front of a house.
The garden gate was painted white, and young shoots of climbing flowers
were just twining their way up the arch. The house beyond was pretty
good sized. We were deal­ing with a merchant or better. I sized up the
amount of gold I still had in my pocket, and wondered if I might have to
slip the dad a bribe.

"My goodness, Lord Wordsmith," Tananda said, flourish­ing her hand at
the door. "Is this not a fine place?"

"Could use a coat of paint or two."

"Well, I like it," Tananda said, pouting prettily for the crowd. I
spotted some movement behind the curtains. The family must have been
tipped off we were heading in this direction, be­cause they came boiling
out of the door like a horde of pup­pies that had heard the words, "Chow
time!" The Klahds, two girls, a boy, a man and a woman, were dressed in
their best clothes. All I could say was that in my experience only one
person had had taste that bad, and he had been taught better. The woman
beamed at me out from under a tall, conical green hat tied onto her head
with a bright yellow scarf. Around her shoulders was a shawl of blue and
red, over a brown dress and white apron. The man must have been at the
same sale of clown-clothes. His parti-colored tunic of brown and green
was topped with a purple hood. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was not
responsible for the choices, yet had no option but to appear in what he
was given. It was a good thing I wasn't there to write an article
praising their garments, because it was go­ing to be hard enough to keep
a straight face.

"May I help you, sir and ladies?" the man asked.

"Good afternoon, sir," I said, heading straight for him with my hand
out. "I am Lord Wordsmith. The Margrave has com­manded me to record
instances of great importance and record them for the kingdom archives.
He has sent me here today because of an accomplishment in your own
family. May I have all of your names. For the record, of course?"

The man looked nervous. "The Margrave is interested in us?"

"That's right," I said. "He was pretty impressed. He sent us to get an
interview that will become part of the permanent record."

"Oh." He looked a little less nervous. "Was it my schol­arly takeover of
the gristmill in Fleben?"

"Why, no, though that was a masterful stroke," I said, though I had no
idea what he was talking about. He preened.

"Maybe the embroidery exhibition that my wife and her sisters put on at
the village hall? The Margrave must

have heard that she made over thirty-five different kinds of antimacassar!"

"No! I mean, no." I softened my tone as they backed up a pace in alarm.
"We're here to talk to your son about the race he ran at school. We
understand that he came in second."

I turned to the boy. He was a stocky lad of twelve or so summers, just
the age when a young man's heart turns to petty vandalism and wondering
why the girl next door seemed to be growing into such a different shape
than his. "How about it, son? Why don't we go inside and talk about it a
little?"

"Oh, yeah!" the boy crowed. "That'd be terrific!"

"Well," the woman said. "I hope you'll excuse the house. I didn't know
you were coming here today, you see. The place is a mess!"

I put on my most sincere smile. "I'm sure it's fine." I nod­ded to
Tananda. As soon as we crossed the threshold she was casing the joint. I
love working with professionals.

"Imagine, us Skivers in the royal archives!" the woman said. "Oh, I'm
Melangelie. This is my husband, Feothor. My son, Imgam. My daughters,
Vencie and Ludanna."

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"Oh, the honor is all ours! Please come in!" She showed us into the
small sitting room, still fluttering. Her husband and children followed.
She plunked embroidered cushions down behind Calypsa's upright back,
pressed a few around Tananda, and hovered around my elbow until I
finally lifted it so she could put a ruffled pillow beneath it.

"May I offer you some tea?"

I didn't gag out loud. Tea's all right if mere isn't any other water to
wash in, but I don't make a habit of drinking it.

"No, thanks," I said. "I'm hoping this won't take too long." That was
Tananda's cue.

She made an apologetic noise to Melangelie. "Could you tell me where
the, uh...?"

"Down the hall to the left, last door," the hostess said, with a smile,
but her attention was fixed on me. "Is there

anything else I can get for you? Cookies? Biscuits? Pie? I don't have
any more coffee cake, but perhaps I can go borrow some from the neighbor?"

"No, thanks. Please sit down. You're making me nervous." Melangelie
dithered for a moment more. "Sit!"

She sat.

"That's better." I made a big deal out of taking a roll of parchment and
a pencil out of my bag and handing them off to Calypsa. "Miss Ermintrude
here will take notes for us."

The girls sat on either side of Calypsa, and watched her hands. I leaned
toward the kid. I didn't know how much time Tananda would need, but I
was going to give her every oppor­tunity. The house wasn't that big, and
Kelsa had assured us that the cup was on an open shelf.

"Give us your impression about the contest."

"Ah, it was just a fifty-yard dash," the boy said, waving a hand to make
me think it was no big deal.

"Now, just a moment, son," Feothor said, holding up a hand. "Not another
word."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why not?" I asked.

He turned an oily smile my way. "Well, I don't mind hav­ing his memoir
become part of the public record, of course, but I want to make sure
that all of his rights are preserved. You understand, don't you?"

"I understand." I sighed. "You're a lawyer, aren't you."

He put an innocent hand on his ill-clad chest. "Just a friendly defender
of the public welfare. And that includes my son, of course."

"Of course," I said. It was an effort to be patient, but I made it.
"What's the deal?"

"Well," Feothor said, taking a sheet of parchment and the pencil out of
Calypsa's hand. Instead of making notes, he started to write
sentences—long sentences—right off the top of his head. "Before my son
makes any kind of a statement, I'd like you to sign this."

"Sign what?" I was definitely beginning not to like him. He offered me a
bland look.

"This waiver. It will grant the Margrave permission only to place
Imgam's story in the national archives. My son, his heirs and assigns,
will retain the rights to all proceeds, royalties, future income arising
from the publication of his memoirs, allowing him rights to his own
story, should he choose to pub­lish further writing in the future." He
whipped off a pageful of paragraphs and reached for another piece of
parchment with an air of efficiency that gave me the uncomfortable
feeling I was back with the minister who had made my life so miserable
in the court of Possiltum with his regulations and rules.

I peered at the Klahd's face. "You aren't related to JR Grimble, are you?"

"Grimbles? They're uneducated trash," the Klahd said, sneering. He went
on writing. "We Skivers have been students of law since the first
written word!"

That I could well believe. I leaned forward.

"Look, we're not here to cheat your boy out of his future rights. All we
want is to hear what he has to say. He can tell it again to anyone he
wants, from now on until the end of time, for all we care. Come on, we
don't have all day."

Feothor didn't even look up. The pencil point flew. "Just another few
paragraphs."

"Dad!" Imgam protested. "When do I get to talk?"

"Almost finished," the Klahd said.

I was beginning to lose my temper. "This isn't the formula for cold
fusion we're talking about here," I snarled. "The boy and I are just
going to have a conversation. You can listen to the whole interview. I'm
not trying to get him to betray state secrets."

"See here, Lord Wordsmith," Skiver said, pointing the pencil at me. I
barely restrained myself from leaning forward and biting it off at the
elbow. "I'm just trying to protect my child. You would do the same thing
to safeguard your own offspring from having someone cheat him, wouldn't
you?"

"Not to the extent of preventing him doing what he wants to do," I said.
"All we want is enough for a simple article. Nothing fancy. In fact,
it'll be shorter than what you've turned out already. Do you want me to
go back to the Margrave and tell him you wouldn't let Imgam here give us
the details he asked for?"

I glanced out of the window. On the lawn, the crowd was growing, as more
ambitious parents turned up with their off­spring. With my keen hearing,
I could eavesdrop on their con­versation, which amounted to a question
as to why the entire athletics program of the local school wasn't going
into the archives, winners AND losers, as befit their precious
children's activities. And so on. I was beginning to regret my choice of
approach. We might have to make a run for it, and soon.

"One more moment, my lord, one more moment. Hmmm, hm hm, hmmm."

Calypsa gave me a worried look. I signed to her not to worry. I didn't
mind signing his waiver. It would have all the legal standing of
anything else that was signed with a phony name by an extradimensional
being wearing a disguise spell. I invited him to catch me later for
breach of contract if he could. I fingered the D-hopper in my pocket.

"Look," I said, rising from my seat. "We came as we were instructed to
do. We can't get you to tell us what you don't want to. We'll just have
to go back to the castle and tell them we failed."

"Not completely," Tananda said, with a sweet smile, ap­pearing at my
side. She tipped me a small wink. "We won't have our story, but we will
have an interesting tale to tell the Margrave. He will be most
interested to hear about your lack of cooperation. We should go, Master
Wordsmith."

"But how can you go until you hear my story?" the boy said, springing to
his feet indignantly.

"How can you leave until you sign the contract?" Feothor asked.

"How can we go without the Cup?" Calypsa demanded, gawking at me.

The others all gawked at me, too. The Walt language isn't very much like
Klahd, but they have some sounds in common, Unfortunately, 'cup' was one
of them.

"Cup? What cup?" Feothor asked.

"Nothing," I said, grabbing the Walt by the arm and haul­ing her toward
the door. Tananda was right behind me. "Miss Ermintrude just wants a cup
of tea. That's all. We can't wait around for it. We'll have to get
refreshments back at the Margravery. Thanks for your time. Too bad it
didn't work out."

Imgam was much smarter than the average Klahd.

"Cup?" he exclaimed. He jumped up and ran out of the room. "It's gone!
My trophy is gone!" He pointed a finger at Tananda. "She stole it!"

"Nonsense, kid," I said, yanking open the door. "You must have left it
somewhere. Nice to meet you folks. Goodbye."

I attempted to step outside.

Unfortunately, when I opened the door, a do2en people fell in on top of
me. The neighbors, who had been gathering in force, started protesting
even before they managed to get back to their feet.

"My son is the best archer in town!"

"My daughter collects spiders! All kinds! You should write about her!"

"I need to talk to you about my twins." A crude hand draw­ing of two
moppets with golden pigtails was shoved in my face. "Aren't they gorgeous?"

"Stop them!" Skiver yelled. "They're thieves!"

Looks of shock, disbelief, and outrage—in that order— came over the
faces of the townsfolk. I started tossing Klahds over my shoulder in an
attempt to get outside, to a place where I could employ the D-hopper,
but there were just too many of them. A dozen or so stood or lay on each
of my limbs to hold me down.

"Pay close attention, thief," a red-haired townsman said, glaring down
at me as an equally roseate-polled younger male

went to work with a long strand of rope around my hands and feet. "My
son won awards for knot tying."

I groaned and let my head fall back. I knew I should have stuck to my
guns and kept out of this scavenger hunt.

Chapter 5

THE MARGRAVE WAS typical of embedded public officials, in my experience.
He wore an air of menace that went poorly with his unimpressive
physique. Fiftyish, plump, black hair slicked back over an egg-shaped
skull, he was shorter than an average Klahd. I could look him square in
the eye as he went up and down the line, glaring at the three of us.

"This is an outrage," I said, jangling the manacles on my wrists so the
rusty yard of chain rang..

I was keeping up an air of official grief to throw him off balance. The
gyves were attached to irons around my ankles by links of sturdy chain
with links as thick as my thumb. My leg irons were connected to Tanda's
on my left and Calypsa's on my right. We had been hauled up by rings
around our necks so I was perching on tiptoes. The whole contraption was
fas­tened high on the stone wall behind us with a staple that could have
held the entire text of the Tax Code. I was grateful that Tananda's
disguise spell had held, or we'd probably have wound up tied neck to
heels, if not worse. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, especially
after we had been kicked and beaten by the crowd and dragged along the
cobblestoned streets the entire four miles to the castle behind a pair
of yoked pigs. My clothes were smeared with droppings, along with
everything else that Merngeans threw out into the streets and hadn't
washed away since the last rain. I could hardly stand my own smell. To
add to the ambience, rats and bugs, most of them sizeable, were starting
to crawl out of the walls, attracted by the scent of strangers.

"Release us. You have no idea whom you're dealing with." I use 'whom'
when I'm really torqued.

"You are charged," he boomed, in an impressive-sounding voice, "of
impersonating officials of the crown, theft, wasting time by deception,
fraud, corruption of the young..."

"Of /what?" /I burst out, not believing my handsome, bat-wing ears.

The Margrave leveled a beady black eye on me. "The boy whom you tempted
into surrendering his personal reminis­cences."

"We didn't get a thing out of him, if you ask your eye­witnesses."

"You admit it!"

He spun on his heel and walked to the table where all the contents of
our pockets, shoulder bags, boot tops, as well as the various
unmentionable places where Tanda tended to con­ceal things. (Even though
the muscular guardswoman had been pretty thorough in her search I was
certain that there were still more weapons and tools hidden about
Tanda's sumptuous per­son. She had been doing this a lot of years.)

"What is this?" the Margrave demanded, waving the D-hopper at me. I
cringed inwardly, hoping he wouldn't drop it. The technology to build
them had been long lost, and though sturdy enough to withstand
dimensional travel, they got goofed up when they hit stone floors. I
didn't want to lose it.

"Massage stick," I said. "Good for easing those tight muscles."

I leered, letting him think worse thoughts. He blanched
and put it down hastily. I grinned. He had a dirty mind.

"Why do you have this?" He held up Kelsa.

The crystal ball was empty, the beturbaned head nowhere in sight. We had
instructed her over and over again not to talk to anyone but us. I was
glad she had paid attention, because all we needed was her unfocused
chatter to make matters worse.

"It's a family heirloom," I said. "I travel everywhere with it."

"Are you a witch?"

"Do I look like a witch?" I countered.

The Margrave sneered. "You look like a charlatan. Some­thing is wrong
with you. My soldiers say that your flesh feels coarser than it appears."

"Skin condition," I shrugged. "Had it since I was born. Are you going to
prosecute me for that?"

"I intend to prosecute you for something," the Margrave said, lowering
his eyebrows. I'm sure he'd made strong men cringe with that expression,
but I'd had meaner teachers in Pervish primary school.

"It seems we got off on the wrong foot here, Lord Margrave," I said, my
voice a low purr. "I told the Skivers that we had come from your castle,
but it was a lie."

"You admit it!" Seemed to be his favorite phrase. I relaxed slightly.

"Sure I do. My true mission was a secret. I have been un­der scaled
orders, until now. I have no choice but to reveal to you my actual
purpose for being in Mernge."

"Well?" The Margrave looked suspicious but very curious as did Calypsa
and Tanda behind him. I gave them a nod to assure them I had this whole
thing under control. "What IS your mission?"

"Gathering information," I said.

"What kind of information? Surely not statistics on school athletics!"

"Kingdom security," I said, lowering my voice. "Sealed orders from Her
Majesty." The Margrave had to lean closer to hear me, then jumped back
in case I was going to take a swing at him. I almost wished I had been
able to.

"The queen sent you?" he exclaimed. "Shh!" I looked at the guards in
pretended alarm. "All right, the secret's out. You blew it. Just wait
until I tell her."

"You're frauds. I don't suppose you even know the name of the duke of
this province."

"Spruesel," I said at once. "That's his private name. His official name
is Congreave, but his mom used to call him Spruey. He's a couple inches
taller than you, brown hair reced­ing around a widow's peak and squinty
hazel eyes, and favors red flannel combination underwear...but I
probably shouldn't say anything about that even to you. On behalf of her
serene

majesty, Queen Hemlock, he sent us to get the full story on the boy, Imgam."

The Margrave narrowed his eyes again. I had made him re-evaluate us, and
he didn't like that.

The royals in this country had birth names, but took a new name when
they ascended the throne. I happened to know because I'd had all the
archives of the Possiltum court at my fingertips, which included
information, maps and portraits from spies and cartographers visiting
the neighboring countries, plus some very confidential data from
diplomatic diaries.

When he was still prince of his country, before it had been absorbed by
Possiltum, Congreave had proposed to Queen, then Princess, Hemlock more
than once. She had never taken the proposals seriously, since she
thought that Congreave's nickname and underwear were both hilarious. She
probably wouldn't have been as thrilled if she knew the nicknames that
her brother monarchs had for her.

I pressed my advantage, and shook my manacles.

"Now, look, Highboy, Duke Spruesel is not gonna be happy that you locked
up three of his favorite courtiers in chains over a stupid little
misunderstanding, is he?"

"It's Highperin," the Margrave said, automatically. He looked less
certain than he had before, then he recovered him­self. This was still
his ball field, whatever kind of sneaky base-stealing I had just done.
He came up, kicking aside a rat, and glared me straight in the eye. "You
will call me Lord Margrave!"

I was casual. "Whatever you like. You can call me Lord Fistula."

"Never heard of you." He hoped I was lying. I smirked.

"The duke has. I am his good right hand."

"Not so good, if you are capable of starting a near riot through your
ineptitude. The Skivers..."

"You oughta be proud of the Skivers," I interrupted him. "Holding up the
honor of the province like that. They weren't willing to blab a syllable
to a stranger without making sure it was going to hold the people, and
hence, its ruler, in the best

possible light. I call that pretty impressive. Right off the bat, they
were trying to do things right. I have to hand it to them. It's going to
go in my report."

Highperin stroked his fat chin. "I see..."

I built on my theme. "His grace will be glad he sent us. I'll get it all
down on parchment. Just as soon as you unclip the iron jewelry. It
doesn't go with the rest of the outfit." I jingled my gyves again.

"Well, Fistula, if that IS your name, if the king is so im­pressed by
security, then he will not be displeased with me."

I held out my wrists, but he waved them away.

"I'm not going to take you at your word. You will remain here, without
food or drink, until my messenger gets back from the capital. That
should take," he gazed at us, enjoying our dis­may, "about three days.
Each way. If you are whom you say you are, then I shall apologize and
make amends for detaining the Duke's archivist and his minions. If not,
then I shall devise a very public punishment for the three of you. I
have plenty of scope for my imagination, as you can see." He waved a
hand at the wall.

I had already been admiring Highperin's collection of nasty torture
devices, most of which would delight a socially-defi­cient crowd like
the one that had dragged us here through the streets. They were, one and
all, the kind of objects capable of doing things to a body that you hope
never happen to yours. Hovering beside them like museum docents eager to
show off their display of impaled butterflies was a handful of
profes­sional torturers, complete with black hoods and oiled bodies
naked to the waist.

Pervects could take a lot of punishment, but Trollops had less stamina
than we did, and Walts were more fragile yet. A session with any of the
devices would probably ensure that none of us would ever play the piano
again. I vowed to the God of Second Chances if we got away unscathed I
would start taking lessons immediately.

I glanced at Tananda to see if we had a hope of magikal escape. She gave
a little shake of her head, and I realized that

she was stretched to the limit maintaining our disguise spells: I was
afraid her powers were stretched as far as they'd go. She could do
smallish spells, mostly connected with her many pro­fessions. The
padlocks securing our chains were old and prob­ably somewhat corroded. I
glanced meaningfully at the cup. If I'd been motivated before to get my
powers back, I was rarin' to go now. It was our last chance.

"So, you see, Lord Fistula," Highperin said, with a smile, "we are very
security-minded here. See you in six days." He started toward the door.
His torturers, with a backwards look of regret toward their working
tools, set down their irons and followed him.

"I salute you, Margrave," I called after him. "In fact, I want to offer
my respects."

Curious, he turned back to me. "And how would you do that?"

"Let me drink a toast to you. What would it matter if our six-day fast
starts now, or in a minute?"

"Are you thirsty, Lord Fistula?" Highperin said, returning to me with a
gloating look spread across his plump little face. "Why not use the
object of your most convoluted theft?"

As I hoped he would do, he snatched the Cup off the table and waved it
in my face. The dented, time-dulled goblet didn't look like much, but I
recalled how miserable Ersatz had seemed until I knocked the tarnish off
him. The Cup was similarly disguised. No Klahd would look twice at it.
Unlike Pervects, they can't smell gold. We can.

I sneered at the goblet, trying to let none of the eagerness I was
feeling show on my face. "You really don't expect me to drink out of
something that tacky."

"If you consider it beneath your notice, perhaps you will tell me why
you wanted a boy's cheap trophy?" the Margrave asked. "I don't see
anything special about it."

"My associate probably wanted me to see it," I said, shrug­ging as best
I could with the weight of the chains. "We were interviewing the kid
about the race he ran to win it, after all."

"Fine, then," the Margrave said, waving his hand impa­tiently. "Drink my
health. I don't see why not, since you're all going to die in this cell,
once His Grace confirms that you are all frauds. In celebration of your
last moments of day­light, go ahead."

One of the guards poured the cup full of murky water from a rain barrel
next to the window. I guessed that it was used to quench irons used for
torture. "What, not even wine?" I asked, aggrievedly.

"You're lucky to get that, you criminal," the guard said haughtily.

I shrugged. "I can put up with water once in a while. I just don't overdo."

"I almost salute you, Lord Fistula," the Margrave said. "Showing such
nonchalance in the face of doom."

"Suave's my middle name," I said.

The guard held it out to me. I reached for it. He tilted it and
deliberately let the water splash to the floor. I stifled an outburst
and glanced at the Margrave. The big cheese was get­ting a kick out of
this. I couldn't wait to get my powers back. I'd give /him /a kick he'd
remember the rest of his soon-to-be-shortened life. At his employer's
nod, the guard dredged up another cupful and handed it to me.

My hands trembled as I took the cup. The anticipation was nearly killing
me. I was seconds from getting my pow­ers back, after all these years. I
was almost floating. In the vision I had quaffed the whole cupful. The
water smelled unappetizing, and there was a dead bug floating on the
surface, but anyone who'd ever eaten Pervish food had had worse.

What to do first when the joke powder had been flushed out of my system?
Should I just get us the heck out of there, or should I bounce the
arrogant SOB all over the walls? Should I tear him into little pieces
and rearrange them? I thought I'd begin by making the chains float in
the air like clouds, then drop them on the Margrave's round little head.

I raised the cup high. "Your very good health, Margrave. You're the
epitome of a government official, and I mean that from the bottom of my
heart."

I drained the cup in a single gulp. Well-being flooded through me. I
felt stronger than I had in years. Every bruise and bump that I had
gotten from the mob who had jumped us and dragged us here faded away. My
eyesight seemed clearer. I could hear birds twittering miles away
outside the window. I felt connected to the world in a way I hadn't been
in a long, long time. "Ah!" I patted my chest and stretched my arms.
Look out, world, here I come!

The Margrave gestured impatiently to a guard to take the cup away from me.

"There, you've drunk my health. Does that make you feel better?"

I grinned. "As a matter of fact, Highboy, I feel great. Now, let me show
you a little trick."

I took a deep breath, balancing myself on the balls of my feet. I pushed
back the manacles so my hands were clear, wound up, and threw my hands
toward the Margrave. Maybe I had put a little too much body English into
it, but it was worth it. I opened my eyes.

Nothing happened.

I stared at my hands. What went wrong? I reached far down inside me and
hoisted up all the energy I could, drew back, and threw it at the Margrave.

"And what am I supposed to see?" Highperin asked, one eyebrow most of
the way toward his thin hairline.

"Uh."

He should have blasted apart into six pieces, by light­ning that ought
to be /still /ricocheting around the room! I felt around for the force
lines. There ought to be plenty of power in reach, since Tananda was
still using it to maintain our disguises. I reached deeper and came up
as embarrassed as a diner who'd forgotten his wallet. There was nothing
there. The rush of power that had gone through me had left

me feeling absolutely terrific, but I was still bereft of magik. My
shoulders sagged.

"I see," the Margrave said, flicking his fingers derisively at us.
"You're just wasting my time. See you in six days. I don't know
precisely what I will have done to the three of you, but I promise you,
it will be humiliating."

It couldn't be any more humiliating than the way T felt at that moment.

Chapter 6

THE HUGE IRON door slammed shut behind him. The noise echoed in the
stone room, battering at my ears. I hung from my manacles, too brought
down even to stand up under my own power.

"Slick," Tananda said.

"Shut up," I growled, not bothering to look up. "That should have worked."

"Diplomacy's not an exact art." Tananda was being nice to me. I couldn't
stand it. "What's he going to do when he finds out there's no Lord Fistula?"

"There is one," I said, swaying mournfully from my chains. The
cockroaches and rats swarmed out of the walls and began to circle our
feet. "The trouble we're going to have is when he finds out that the
real one is still at court, or was, last time I heard."

"What's the penalty for impersonating a favorite of the local duke?"

"Same as always, death." I stood up and tried the chains again to see if
I could dislodge them from the wall. No, the staple had to have been
driven in at least a foot. The force re­quired was beyond even that of a
Pervect in good shape. I doubted anything short of a Troll could have
yanked them free.

"Are you sure?" Tanda gulped.

"Klahds just aren't that imaginative, Tananda," I said. "They like
torture and killing. Most of their hobbies revolve around one or the
other. Hunting. Cockfighting. Football. Skeeve's a peace freak compared
with his fellow demons."

Calypsa looked even more taken aback. "This is my fault. I apologize. If
I had not thought out loud, we would not be in this sorry predicament."

"I wouldn't have called it thinking, girly," I said, grumpily. "I don't
know how you lived to the age you are without having someone strangle
you for blurting out whatever comes into

your head. Look at what they did to my clothes. This jacket came from
Bond of Savylle. I haven't had shoulders fit this well in thirty years."

"Woe is me," Calypsa said, enlarging upon her theme of self pity. She
clasped her hands together and jangled her manacles as she beseeched the
sky. "Now I /and /my champions are locked up in a foul dungeon, and my
poor grandfather lan­guishes without a hope of rescue." A bug touched
her foot and she recoiled on tiptoe. "Eek!"

"Shut up!" I boomed. "I'm trying to think!"

"But the Margrave will kill us when he discovers your sub­terfuge! The
fate of the family of Calypso is doom! Why are you not frightened?" She
kicked away more insects.

"We've been in tighter situations," I said, trying to get back to the
fly in the ointment. I mused aloud. "That should have worked. It
shouldn't have mattered what I drank from that cup. I felt the power. My
powers should have been restored instantly. Why weren't they? What in
the nine Netherhells is wrong with that cockamamie cup?"

"Well, perhaps if you had told me what you needed me to cure. I could
have told you that it wouldn't work," the Cup said suddenly, in perfect
Walt. "Silly Pervert."

"Pervect," I corrected automatically, then did a double-take.

"My apologies. All the people from your dimension I have known were such
lowlifes that "Pervert" comes automatically to my lips."

We all gazed at the golden goblet.

"It talks!" Calypsa said, starting forward. The chains jerked her back.

"All of the Golden Hoard can talk," Tananda said. "You know that."

"But it did not say anything before!" Calypsa said.

"I didn't have to defend myself until that Pervert maligned my talents,"
the Cup said in a ringing contralto female voice. The two rubies facing
us were sharp with reproof.

"That's /Pervect! /I may have swallowed your potion, but I don't have to
swallow insults. What if I stomp you into a solid gold floor tile?"

"Nonsense," she said. The engraving around the bottom of the bowl curved
upward into a grin. "You can't reach me from there, and we both know it."

"Besides, it was Kelsa who said you would be able to re­store his
powers," Calypsa said.

"Did she?" the Cup asked. "She sees accurately, but I wouldn't give you
dregs for any of her interpretations."

"Fair cup, then what is it that Aahz felt when he drank from you?"

"My name is Asti, you polite child," the Cup said. "I have a lot of
talents. I can cure poison. I heal. I nourish—and by the way, I can tell
from here you're not getting enough vitamin C. You'll get rickets in
those long legs of yours. I create harmony between parties, weddings and
peace treaties a specialty. And I brew some dandy hooch. Catch me in a
good mood some evening when the moon is shining over my bowl. How'd you
lose your powers, Per/vect/?"

"Joke powder."

"From the Bazaar at Deva?"

"Yeah." I had no wish to go further into my misadven­tures.

"Ah," Asti said, knowingly. I could imagine her nodding her head, if she
had one. "Sorry. Not in my playbook. Ask the Book or the Ring. That's
more up their street."

"What DID you do to me? I thought I felt my powers return!"

"Oh, that's just general purpose healing," Asti said. "You have
fifty-five bones that have been broken at least once each over the
course of your life, including all of your fingers and toes. You had
Scarolzzi fever, can't say when, messed up part of your circulatory
system. You're lucky it's not contagious any longer. You had lost about
30% of your hearing, normal wear and tear for someone your age. Your
liver has been run

over by some pretty bad booze, lots of it. There were a dozen or more
other minor conditions I won't bother to name. All that's gone. You've
got a clean slate, but I suppose you'll just go back to your bad habits
again. I can only cure. I can't make you stay healed."

"I like my bad habits," I said, sulkily.

I glanced sideways at Tanda, who was grinning at the long list of
ailments as Asti reeled them off. I didn't like the cup mentioning the
Scarolzzi fever. It was a little condition I'd picked up on Zimwod from
a female there who'd been very friendly, and not at all forthcoming
about her past.. .but I digress.

"Everyone does," Asti said, with a sigh. "I never deny heal­ing to
anyone who needs it, but I often regret that my talents are wasted on
some people."

"So," I summed up, "I'm perfectly healthy, but I still have no magik."

"That's my diagnosis. You can thank me at your leisure." Asti's mouth
settled back into a line of tarnished engraving. I snorted and began to
pick at the locks with a talon.

"Then, we are trapped here," Calypsa wailed. "Trapped here until that
horrible man chooses to come back and torture us! To death! No food, no
water, no comfort! And all this ver­min!" She began to drum her toes on
the insects milling around us, only scoring on two or three out of every
hundred.

"C'mon, cupcake," I chided her. "That's no way to stamp out roaches. You
need to do it like /this." /I brought the flat of my foot down on the
nearest cluster of wildlife, smashing it flat. "Put some body English
into it." I kicked away a few more rats. One of them took a nip out of
my left foot, and I launched the critter into the water barrel. It
surfaced, gasp­ing, and slunk over the side toward the hole in the base
of the wall.

"But we are prisoners! Prisoners!" Calypsa exclaimed.

"Maybe...not...for long," Tananda panted. I glanced her way, and my jaw
dropped. You think you know someone, then,

even after more than a hundred years they can surprise you. She had bent
one of her legs up behind her, and was pulling her pointed toe upward
toward between her shoulder blades, a feat of elasticity that I didn't
think even a Trollop was capable of. With both thumbs she peeled back
the tip of her boot. Holding the foot steady with one hand, she pulled a
long, skinny pick out from between the upper and shin of her boot.
Trium­phantly, she let her leg drop and brandished the shaft of metal at me.

"I can't get it out by reaching forward," she explained. "That's how it
goes undetected if I'm ever searched."

"Tanda," I said, grinning, "you're the best."

"That's why they pay me the gold pieces," she said. "Give me a moment.
These old locks are stiff."

Tanda bent her head over the chain on her left wrist. I heard rather
than saw the noise of the pick scratching away at years of rust and who
knew what else caking up the mecha­nism of the fist-sized locks. I kept
my eye on the door. Groans, shrieks and wails for mercy the guards would
ignore. The sounds of an attempted escape were more likely to attract
their attention. My keen ears, made more keen than I could recall in a
lot of years by Asti's charm, were open to the noise of returning footsteps.

While Calypsa and I watched in fascination, Tananda popped the hasp of
the first lock. The thick wristlet sagged open with the creaking sigh of
a disappointed torturer. She let the chain down very gently so it did no
more than jingle against her skirt hem as she started in on the other
chain. The tip of her tongue stuck out between her teeth as she probed
around in the keyhole. The pick scratched less certainly here. Tananda's
forehead creased.

"Would an anti-rust cantrip help?" I asked. It's impossible not to
kibbitz when you're watching an expert at work.

She shook her head. "The lock's bespelled," she said. "I'd have to drop
the disguise spell to absorb enough power from the force lines."

I glanced at the door. "Do it," I advised. "I don't want Highboy coming
back and deciding he wants to get a head start on his torture program."

The fetching form of a female Klahd vanished, and the familiar shape of
Tananda in her working clothes emerged.

"Ahhh!" Tananda shook out her hand and held it over the recalcitrant
lock. It started quivering, not an uncommon reac­tion when Tanda gets close.

"What's the problem?"

"This is an old spell," she said. "They don't get wizards around here
much, but this one—whew! He knew his torture devices."

"I bet he was fun at parties," I said, keeping my ear open for any
interest by the guards. My keen Pervish hearing picked up conversation
beyond the door about the latest serving wench and who was likely to get
between her plackets first.

"Darn!" Tananda whispered.

The pick jumped out of her fingers. She made a swipe for it, but the
point bounced off her fingertips. It tinkled on the floor and rolled,
sounding louder than an electric guitar in the silence of the dungeon.
On the other side of the door, foot­steps hustled in our direction. The
door sprang open.

"Hey, fellahs, we were just gettin' lonely," I said. They gasped. Our
disguise-free state evidently turned them off.

"Monsters!" one of the guards exclaimed.

"Kill them!" the captain of the guard bellowed.

"Now, come on, fellows," I said, spreading out my hands with a friendly
grin on my face. The guards blanched. They leveled their crossbows at us
and prepared to fire.

"La di dah! La di dee! La de da daddle daddle dah!" a soft voice began
to croon by my right ear. I turned to gawk. How could Calypsa think
about singing at a moment like this?

She wasn't just singing. I don't know how she was doing what she was
doing, but her long, skinny body undulated back and forth, setting a
fascinating tempo. Her arms lifted and be­gan to weave backwards and
forwards. I found myself taking a

helpless step in her direction. Her long neck curved bewitch-ingly from
side to side. I felt transfixed but divinely happy, like a fly caught in
a jar of grape jelly. How come I hadn't noticed before how large and
lustrous her eyes were? The fans of thick, black-and-white fluffy plumes
spread between her arms and the sides of her body concealed and
revealed, leaving me gasp­ing for another glimpse of her half-smile. The
guards were similarly agog. Their crossbows drooped toward the ground
like.. .crossbows drooping. In no time at all they had forgotten that we
were demons, dangerous prisoners of their employer. All they could see
was Calypsa.

She lifted her chin and nodded in the direction of the fallen lock pick.
I snapped out of the half-trance, but not as fast as Tananda, who
flicked a finger at the length of steel. It leaped up into her hand,
summoned by a burst of 'come-hither' magik. I forced my eyes toward her.
The guards never turned to look. Tanda scraped at the wards of her lock.
With a screech, it popped open. She dumped it on the floor. She bent and
unfas­tened the chains around her feet, then sprang over to free me. The
guards weren't about to interrupt her. They couldn't take their eyes off
Calypsa. I had to work hard to avoid falling into the spell again.

Tananda undulated toward the Walt, steering the pick through the air
with a tickle of magik. It nosed into the key­holes of the locks on
Calypsa's wrists and ankles, until the chains fell to the floor with a
THUNK! The slender girl whirled in place, her hands flashing. Tananda
and I hurried to stuff our possessions back into our pockets and other
hid­ing places, and to gather up the Cup and the wrapped crystal ball.

"Talented girl," Asti stated, one of her jeweled eyes watch­ing her
critically over my shoulder.

"Shut up," I growled, shoving my purse back into my pocket. Good thing I
never carried a credit card. In an effort to stave off fraud, the modern
ones issued by the Gnomes of Zoorik bore the owner's picture. If
Highboy'd had any brains,

he would have realized the coins were just as much a give­away that
neither I nor my companions were from around there.

"How are you going to extract her from here? If she stops dancing,
they'll snap out of it."

"No problem," I said. I edged around behind the fasci­nated chief guard
and lifted the heavy ring of keys out of his belt. He never budged.
"Hey, doll," I called to Calypsa. "Let's play peek-a-boo with your new
admirers."

She looked a question at me, so I jerked my head toward the heavy
dungeon door. She nodded, and worked the gesture into a sexy spin. The
girl was brighter than I had given her credit for. Tananda might be
right about the promise she showed. Too bad about her impulse control
problems, but most of that would probably work out over time. If we all
lived that long.

Tananda had already caught on to my idea. With the light­ness of someone
who was accustomed to moving in and out of a location undetected, she
had edged past the guards and backed up the stairs. In one hand she had
a dagger by the point; in the other she cradled the muffled form of
Kelsa. I didn't need any other armament than I had been furnished by
nature, but I was hampered with Asti, who, being made of solid gold, was
a heck of a lot heavier she looked, and squealed whenever she was tipped
sideways. How no one in that pa­thetic little town had failed to cotton
on to the metal, let alone the quality of her workmanship, made me
despair of Klahds ever entering seriously into the realm of advanced
commerce. I stuffed her into one of our carry sacks and ignored her
com­plaints. Too bad we didn't have a second silence scarf like the one
around Kelsa.

As Calypsa undulated around her admirers, I edged out of the dungeon.
Except for Tananda, I couldn't hear anyone else breathing within about
twenty yards. I recalled that the door through which we had been hauled
wasn't far from the dun­geon—all the easier to make deliveries. I could
smell fresh air, or what passed for it around here, redolent of cow
manure and kitchen garbage.

The Walt wriggled her way up each of the stone stairs. The guards
followed her, tongues hanging out. She stopped to pirouette on the top
step, with a cute little boom-sha move­ment that would have been worth
its weight in gold pieces at any of the quality strip clubs on Perv,
like Gawker's or Irv's Red Hotsies, and gave them a little toss of her
head as if to say "here's one for the boys in the back row." When she
got in range, I snaked my arm in, yanked her out, and slammed the door.

It took a moment for the spell to break. By the time the guards realized
they'd been tricked, I'd locked the big door on them. Tananda beckoned
over her shoulder and fled into the dark hallway. I hauled Calypsa along
behind me.

"But I was not finished!" she protested. The guards started pounding on
the door and yelling, from frustration or anger, I couldn't tell.

"We don't hang around for curtain calls," I snarled, hus­tling her
toward the disappearing green figure of the Trollop. "What /was /that?"

"The Dance of Fascination," Calypsa said, tossing her head proudly. "My
great-great aunt, the dancer Rumba, was the first to perform it."

Chapter 7

I WISHED WE could have used the D-hopper and /bamfed /out without all
the fancy footwork, but we still had to retrieve Ersatz. I was
regretting leaving him behind in the woods, but it was better to have to
backtrack and get him than to have to search the castle for whatever
armory in which Highboy would have stashed an obviously valuable sword
after he confiscated it from us. I didn't know whether Calypsa's hips
would have held out for that long.

We paused at the door while Tananda whipped us up a new disguise spell,
then plunged out of the castle, disguised as Highboy and two generic
soldiers. The guards on duty outside threw me a grand salute, which I
returned, looking harried. Not a bad imitation, if I do say so myself.

Ersatz spotted us long before we could see him. He was hidden at just
above eye level in a hollow branch of a big tree overhanging the forest
path.

"Well, friend?" the sardonic voice asked. "Is all well? Are your powers
restored to you?"

"Don't ask," I grunted, as I yanked him out of his post.

"Have you the old beaker with you? She has not yet poi­soned you, at any
rate."

"I would know that rusty garden gate of a voice across the universe,"
Asti shrilled. "Let me out of this rag bag at once!"

I looked around to make sure no one was coming, then I brought Asti out
of my rucksack. The jeweled eyes and the reflected ones regarded each
other with expressions of mutual dislike.

"So, there you are, you cake spatula," Asti said. "The last time I saw
you, you ruined a perfectly good peace accord I was overseeing on Jahk!"

"An assassin of the Bruhns bid fair to stab the ambassa­dor of the Bhuls
in the back!" Ersatz replied. "A good peace

accord signifies that all have agreed to down weapons, not plunge them
into the other party's representatives."

"And no one would have, if you hadn't bellowed out, Ware assassins!'
Suddenly both armies whipped out knives, knouts, brass knuckles—you name
it—and the table went over as the Bruhns shoved it onto the Bhuls'
ambassador's toe. In no time the place was a shambles. That's where I
got this dent," she added, the ruby eyes rolling up toward a bulge at
the rim.

"And added more since," Ersatz said, with less tact than I would have
expected out of him. "You look rather the worse for wear."

"No thanks to you! No one even thought of tapping it out. My beautiful
roundness, marred, and it's all your fault!"

"Wait a minute," I said, raising my hands. "How long ago was this?"

"Five hundred twenty years, nine months and three days," they said in
virtual unison.

"And four days," Kelsa piped up, as Calypsa unwrapped her. The face
appeared in the ball. "You forget about universal drift and daylight
savings time!"

"Be quiet," Ersatz said. "You were not there."

"I don't have to be, my dear," Kelsa reminded him. "I know all, see all,
remember!"

"You told them I could bring back his powers!" Asti burst out.

Kelsa's face changed until she looked like a goblet herself, but with
the turban and glasses over a couple of jewels shaped like eyes.

"Why, I never did. I only told them what I saw."

"Aha. And you believed her?" the cup asked me, shocked. "When she hasn't
had a clearheaded moment in centuries?"

"Clearheaded?" Kelsa asked, the image thinning in the golden crystal
until it was almost transparent with fury. "I am always clearheaded.
Look at me? Why shouldn't they believe me! I told them the future!
Everything I said came to pass. They didn't interpret it correctly."

"And you didn't interpret it for them?"

"My dear, my job is to predict! If I was known for inter­pretation,
there would be many more usurpers taken to the block and many more
crowned heads safe on their pillows at night. Fewer little girls would
take chancy trips through the woods unescorted, and the divorce courts
would be full since no cheaters could possibly go undetected. My facts
are un­disputed to the open mind. You're the one who's full of alco­hol
all the time!"

"Not all the time," Asti said, sulkily. "I make other potions than
alcohol. All kinds. Anything that purports to 'know all,' should know that."

"Why, Asti, I didn't say you couldn't. I simply inferred that you
/didn't" /Kelsa said. She looked smug.

"You silicon implant, you have no right to blare people's private
business all over the cosmos!"

"Certainly I do. My job is to predict, inform, provide light in the
darkness, give a head's up to my possessor as to events which will shape
his future and that of the rest of the dimen­sions. By the way, dear,"
she said, turning to me and winking an eye, "you might want to pick your
feet up. There's a hunt­ing party on the way. Horses, lots of sharp,
pointy objects. Ersatz can't possibly take them on all by himself."

"Who says that I cannot, wench?" the sword fumed.

"Knock it off!" I said, not wanting to deal with his ego at the moment.
"Who is it?"

"Lord Highperin, his chief huntsman, three sergeants-at-arms, fifteen
men-at-arms, a pack of hounds..."

A loud bay confirmed at least part of her statement. I glanced at Tananda.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Anywhere but here," I said. I grabbed Asti and started to shove her
back into my rucksack.

"Just a moment!" she said, sounding horrified. 'You're not putting me
back in that wretched rag again, are you?"

'You bet I am, sister," I said.

"Over my bent stem, you are," Asti retorted.

Out of her bowl, sour-smelling red liquid began to pour, then spray
upward in an increasing fountain like a fire hose. I held her away from
my face. The liquid was wine, a crummy vintage that I wouldn't have used
for insecticide. The spray rose higher. In a moment it would rise higher
than the trees. Highperin wouldn't need the dogs to trace us.

"Turn it off!" I shouted. "What do you want?"

"I thought you might see reason. After all, you want your reward, don't
you?" The stream cut off between one drop and another. The ruby eyes
regarded me with a pleased expression. "I just want a case that befits
my status, Mr. Aahz. I am one of the most important members of the
Golden Hoard. You can't just wrap me in rags and expect me to be happy
about it."

"A /case?" /I asked, dumbfounded.

"You always possessed delusions of grandeur," Ersatz said. "You will not
give in to her petty blackmail, will you?"

"Oh, yes, he will," Asti said, confidently. "Well?"

"Not a chance," I said, with my teeth gritted.

Wine began to flow over my hand again.

"All right, all right!" I shouted. "We'll get you a case."

"A nice one," Asti said. "One with a decent silk lining, tooled leather,
and my name written in jewels. Those don't have to be as nice as my own,
of course," she added. "Gold clasps would be acceptable, and padded with
the best cash­mere. Dyed purple, I think. It sets off my patina so well."

I started to growl, "Over my dead body," but Calypsa put her hand on my arm.

"Asti is an ancient treasure, and we do need her help," she said. "The
purse will surely reimburse you for any out­lay you make. I would feel
better if she was made the most comfortable."

The cup beamed. "I like this girl. She /knows /how to treat an artifact!"

Tananda and I looked at each other.

"Deva," she said.

If you're one of the non-dimension-hopping rubes who have never been to
the Bazaar at Deva, picture the biggest shop­ping arena you know of.

Now, double it.

Now, double it again.

Just keep on doubling it until you run out of numbers.

The Bazaar is well known throughout the dimensions as the go-to place
for almost kind of merchandise. If it can be bought, sold, traded,
stolen and sold again, it's for sale in one of the tents, booths,
open-air rings, tables and even cloths spread on the ground in its
dirty, crowded, noisy, hot lanes. You can get a tattoo anywhere on your
body, includ­ing the inside. You can, as I know to my everlasting
regret, buy a live dragon here. (If you have any sense at all, you won't.)

You can find restaurants serving food from countless lands, including
one of the only Pervish restaurants I have ever found ex-dimension. Most
other races don't want to serve Pervish food, because it tends to be
ambulatory, and it has a pretty strong aroma—make that stench. No item
or ingredient is so exotic that money won't bring it to your table,
unless it's sen­tient. Even the locals aren't that sick.

The local species, who run most of the establishments, are known as
Deveels. In appearance they're similar to the beings of Klahdish
nightmares, with dark red skin, little horns on either side of their
foreheads, and lower limbs that end in hooves. To deal with a Deveel,
you had better be a savvy trader or be willing to lose whatever you're
carrying on you. There's no truth in the rumor that you can lose your
soul to one of the merchants in the Bazaar, unless you were foolish
enough to put it on the table in the first place. In other words, you
need to understand what you have agreed to, and make certain that there
are no handy loopholes in your verbal contract, or the shopkeeper will
wriggle out of fulfilling his end of the bargain if he can find any way
at all to do so.

They are the slickest businesspeople in the universe, and they can sense
the presence of money. Being cheated by a Deveel is a normal event in
the Bazaar, but if you can keep your head, you can find goods of
surprising quality among the acres and acres of /dreck. /Some of the
finest craftspeople of all races have shops there. The chances were also
pretty good that if any of the other treasures of the Golden Hoard were
presently for sale, they might be kicking around here. I thought it was
worth taking a look.

The Bazaar was also the site of the former offices of M.Y.T.H., Inc.,
the operation that had been headed up by my old partner, Skeeve, with me
as his advisor. The tent, which was, to quote another dimensional
traveler, was substantially bigger on the inside than it was on the
outside because of a common trick used in the Bazaar and elsewhere, of
setting only the front door, and maybe the anteroom, of a building in a
particular dimension, and carving the rest of the space out of a
neighboring dimension by means of a spell. Our tent backed onto a
dimension called limbo, which even the Deveels were loath to visit. The
main race there was vampires, with werewolves and a few other children
of the night thrown in for makeweight, or make-wight, if you like. It
had explained why our tent had been priced so reasonably even though it
was located on a main thoroughfare. Skeeve insisted that the Limboans
were as afraid of us as we were o/f /them, but the place gave me the
creeps. Still, I used it as my pied-a-terre — you can't argue with the
fact that it was already paid for. A few of the gang came and went as
business brought them to Deva, but it wasn't like the old days.

Even though most people would hesitate to tangle with a Pervect,
especially a notable like myself, I felt very uncom­fortable carrying
three very valuable pieces of magikal hard­ware through the Bazaar. The
pickpockets and thieves that roamed the lanes could smell gold through
ten layers of bespelled safe-satchels, let alone buried in the middle of
an­cient sacks that we'd lifted from a nearby potato field in Klah.

Ersatz we couldn't hide at all, except to cover his hilt with an old
sack. Bumping along on Calypsa's narrow shoulder, he was getting a lot
of attention from the shopkeepers we passed. I kept a hand on the
D-hopper in my pocket. It was an ancient artifact, and there weren't
many around. No way after all this time was I losing my ride.

"I don't see why you have to have a special carrying case," I told Asti
sourly. "That kid who had you on his shelf sure didn't have a fancy set
up for you, especially not one with jewels and tooled leather."

"I don't expect dancing girls and acolytes, Mr. Aahz," Asti said,
smugly, now that she knew she was getting her way.

"It's just Aahz," I said.

"As you wish. I liked Imgam. In every way that counted,
that simple setting was a shrine. Imgam gave me the very best
he had. He set me on a plinth of wood he cut with his own
hands. He polished me with the finest cloth in the house, a
piece of silk his mother got as a wedding present. It was cheap
by comparison with most of the polishing cloths I've had over
the years, but there was none better to be had. He handled me
with love and the deepest respect." She sighed. "Outside of
the Temple of Shamus, I have never had such worship. I really
enjoyed it. You had better have removed me from his care for
a very important reason indeed, and not just to restore powers
to a Pervert."

Calypsa opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to shush her.
"Not here," I said. "We'll get you your case, then go to someplace where
it's less likely we'll Debugged."

"My goodness, what an interesting place," Kelsa said, from Tananda's
shoulder bag. She had insisted that we not use the silencing cloth, and
she had babbled nonstop since we /bamfed /in. "Did that Deveel really
just take that Imper for the last silver piece he had? And all because
he was palming the bean that should have been under at least one of
those shells?"

Her shrill voice was plenty audible enough so that the Imp in question
heard it. He glared at the Deveel, who glared in /our/

direction. The Imp demanded a refund. The Deveel, no sur­prise, refused.
That started an argument with the huckster that drew an audience from
the surrounding booths. I put a hand into Calypsa's back and hustled her
out of the way of the brawl that was going to start in, oh, ten seconds.

Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

"You cheated me, you scarlet shyster! Give me back my money, or I'll
blow your head off!"

Oh, well, a little ahead of schedule.

The Deveel behind the leatherwork counter listened as Calypsa recited
the details of the case Asti wanted. We all thought it would be better
if none of the Golden Hoard said anything. The last thing I needed was a
rumor going around that they were in the dimension. It would start a
gold rush the likes of which hadn't been seen in a century.

"...And cashmere lining. Purple," Calypsa said. "Good enough to last for
a hundred years."

"Uh-huh," said Stankel, noting down the information on a scrap of
leftover parchment. "Not the usual stuff I do for you, pretty girl," he
said, patting Tanda on the bottom. She smiled at him with such
concentrated sweetness that he moved his hand back in alarm. I grinned.

"Just give me the estimate," I said.

"Well, it's custom work," he began, ticking off the items on the list.
"Rush job, you said. Special dyes. It'll have to be clegborn beetle wing
dye for the lining—i/t's /the best. Doesn't run, won't fade. Tooling on
the leather representing water flow­ing up out of a fountain, waves
crashing on the shore, that kind of thing. If you don't mind magikal
carving, I can do anything you want. Saves time. The name on the top is
Asti, you said?"

He glanced up at me with a gleam in his eye. I was afraid that he'd
catch on. Deveels didn't get to be the most feared traders in a hundred
dimensions by missing implications, and they never forgot any detail
that might be worth a copper to them.

"Yeah." I leaned close. "I wouldn't want it to get around. We're running
an...operation. You understand. Set a fraud to catch a fraud, you know.
Not like we've got the /real /Asti."

"I see," Stankel said, licking the end of his pencil and scrawling a
final note. "No, I get it. Where would /you /get a Hoard treasure,
Aahz?" He laughed.

I resented his implication, but I didn't want to start a fight. Not yet,
anyhow.

/"How /much?" I asked.

"Oh, well, seeing as how you're an old friend, and Tanda here's a
regular customer.. .half a gold piece."

"How much?" I asked.

"Half a gold piece. And I'm taking bread out of my children's mouths to
give you a price that low."

"Your children are in their sixties," I pointed out. "If you're still
feeding them, you're as crummy a parent as you are a busi­nessman. This
might be good work, but I could get Steger to whip out the same for a
tenth."

"A tenth! You're out of your mind!"

I smiled. Now things were beginning to move. "Not so crazy as you are."

"How could you even think of offering me such a pathetic sum for my
quality leather goods?" He appealed to passersby. "This stinking Pervert
thinks he can ask the craftsman Stankel for custom work for a rotten
tenth of a gold piece! Four tenths, or I'll throw you out of this booth
on your scaly bottom!"

"That's Pervect," I bellowed, "and I'd like to see you try it! Two tenths!"

It was past lunch time, so the crowd that gathered to listen to us
haggle wasn't as large as it might be, which suited me just fine. I
didn't want anyone reading over Stankel's shoulder. Tananda was used to
the custom of bargaining in the Bazaar, but Calypsa was beginning to shy
backwards, away from our voices. I couldn't take the time out to let her
know this was normal. Suddenly, I saw the gleam of Ersatz's eyes peeking
out of the wrapping over her shoulder. Gradually, the Walt

stopped trembling. After a while, she looked as if she was actually
enjoying the show. When we finally finished haggling and agreed on a
quarter gold piece, she joined in the applause. I thought it had been a
pretty good show, myself.

After letting Stankel take measurements of Asti, we left him to work. He
wasn't too impressed with the pathetically banged-up cup for which we
were buying a fancy box, but had bought the story we were using it to
run some kind of elabo­rate scam. He knew, as any Deveel would from
birth, that it was solid gold, but I had chosen Stankel on purpose
because he was almost as magik-blind as I was at the moment. He couldn't
feel the mystical wallop she and the other two packed.

"Give me a couple of hours," Stankel said. "I should be able to whip
something together by then."

Chapter 8

I SWAGGERED AS I led the others out of the booth, lead­ing them deftly
through a party of drunken Vikings negotiat­ing for hide-covered
shields. We shoved past an Imp buying yard goods in colors nature never
intended, and swung wide around a party of gaping Kobolds taking
snapshots of an eight-armed juggler, whose partner was picking their
pock­ets. As we went past a cross street Calypsa went weak at the knees.

"What is that stink?" she gasped, staggering. I caught a strong,
malodorous whiff that made me smile.

"Pervish cooking," I said. "The restaurant's not far away."

"No," Tananda said firmly. "Hasn't she been through enough
in the last few days? There's no reason to subject her to your
kind of food."

I lowered my eyebrows. It had been a while since I had tasted home
cooking. Tananda gave me one of those looks that meant business, as in
we were engaged in business, and pleasure would have to wait I thought
about it. We could split up, but that only meant double the chances that
some of the free-lance brigands that shopped the Bazaar could get a
crack at the goods we were carrying. I sighed.

Instead, I headed for the Yellow Crescent Inn, where my buddy Gus the
Gargoyle pulled strawberry milkshakes for those discerning customers who
could use a little privacy when they ate lunch The Yellow Crescent's
food was bland, because the diners liked it that way. I could eat it,
but I considered it no more than fodder.

To my relief, the other patrons who were in the Inn were all strangers.
We didn't have any trouble taking possession of a corner booth, where
both Tanda and I could have our backs to the wall. Gus waved to us with
a broad stone hand, then came around the counter to greet us.

"Hey, Aahz, long time no see!" he said, extending bone-crushing
handgrips with us. "You been away? Hey, Tananda. You look lovely, as usual."

"Hi, Gus," she said, warmly.

"The usual?"

She nodded. I grunted. "Yeah."

Gus turned to Calypsa.

"How about you, honey? You're a Walt, ain't you? Don't get a lot of your
kind here on Deva. What'll it be? Milkshake on the house for a friend of
my pal here."

Calypsa looked confused, so I shook my head.

"Let the kid here see the menu, Gus, and make sure no one interrupts us,
okay? We've got a little business to discuss." "No problem," Gus said.
He left a greasy parchment by Calypsa and went back to the counter.

"Okay, Asti," I said, plunking the cup on the table. In her sorry
condition no one in the room paid much attention to her. The toys that
came with the kids' meals looked more impres­sive than she did. "Let's
talk. There's a few things you gotta understand."

"Oh, I understand," Asti said blithely. "You and this green floozy..."

"Trollop, please," Tananda said, with some asperity.

"As you please...you are a pair of hired hands. Have I got that wrong?
If not, then I suggest you listen to this lass. She's your employer,
isn't she? She has persuaded you to join her on a mission that tugs at
the heartstrings' to save her beloved grandfather. I look forward to
hearing the whole tale later, natu­rally. I love a good tearjerker. And
she wants to treat me with the honor that I must inform you I am due. I
suggest you listen to her. Obviously, she knows her history. I have
anointed kings and queens, blessed babies, cured poison, elicited truth,
sealed oaths, toasted dynastic marriages...I'm the stuff of legends,
baby, and don't you forget it!"

"So, what if we do find you a different container. Is that going to make
you cooperate? No more floods?"

"Possibly," Asti said, the line on her bowl curving upward.

I heard some hubbub coming from Calypsa's side of the table. Muffled
exclamations were coming from the disguised sword. Alarmed, the girl
hoisted him off her back and put him on the table, blade half out of his
scabbard.

"Friend Aahz," Ersatz said. I could see the one baleful eye looking out
of the torn leather at me. "At least I counted you friend! Until now."

"What's the matter with /you?" /I asked.

The eye blazed. "You have promised good gold for a pol­ished and
bejeweled husk to carry this wretched, leaky vessel in state—and you
have not extended the same to me!"

"What?" I demanded.

"Aye, and I had come to believe that you had respect for me. You, who
recognized my quality. You, who bought me out of tc/hochkedom /and who
are bearing me forward into an honor­able destiny. You, who know my
history, back as far as the mysterious fires that gave me birth. You who
know the battles I have fought. YOU—would let me go on in this worn and
limp scabbard while Asti has a new case to contain her pa­thetically
beaten form?"

"Oh, yes," Asti piped up. "And I want you to find a gold­smith to tap me
out again. No sense in continuing to look like the last target on the
fence. Oh, and you might see if he can find me a replacement for the
oval chalcedony on my foot. I noticed a chip out of it, just at the base..."

I glanced from her back to Ersatz. "No."

"No, what?" Asti asked.

"No to a polish job, and no to a brand new scabbard. And no," I added,
as Kelsa started protesting from Tananda's sub­stantial purse, "to a
monogrammed miniature bowling bag to contain the world's most talkative
crystal ball!"

They all burst out talking at once.

"Quiet," I shouted.

They quieted. I leaned toward Asti, making sure she got a good look at
my bared teeth.

"First of all, dixie-cup, I may have taken on a job and need your
cooperation to complete it, but you never call my friend Tananda names
again. Do you understand? You may be an immortal treasure and have a
hundred songs sung about your exploits, but you're still a piece of
metal. I can flatten you and use you for a bookmark in my copy of the
/Perva Sutra. /Got that? Second, just because we are working for
Calypsa, the arrangement is temporary. When it's over, I'll be a private
citizen again, so don't treat me like the help. When she's done with
you, you'll be out of immunity cards. Get me?"

"My goodness, he can be touchy, can't he?" Asti appealed to Tananda.
"Very well. I apologize for assuming you have no morals. But look at the
way you dress!"

"What, this old thing?" Tananda asked, tugging at her neck­line so that
her assets jiggled fetchingly. "You should see me when I want to attract
attention."

"The fact remains," Ersatz said, regaining the floor, "that I, too,
merit presentation in a more fitting sheath."

"I thought that one fit fine," I said, but he didn't give me any credit
for my wit. Trust a straight sword not to have a sense of humor. He
carried on without changing expression.

"This slip is not meet, nor spruce, nor any of the things that I could
wish. It protects my edge and, yea, provides me with some anonymity, but
as you can see, friend Aahz, it is falling apart! Surely your
leather-working associate back there can fashion something in which I
will not be ashamed to be seen?"

"Be fair, Aahz," Calypsa said, batting those long black lashes of hers.

"And who is going to pay for this meet sheath?" I coun­tered.

"Well," the Walt said, lowering her head in embarrassment. 'Tou are."

"To fit me out sweetly, I am certain that Chin-Hwag will add the price
to your fee," Ersatz said, "with an emolument

for making the outlay, of course. She and I were always well disposed to
one another."

"Oh, that's it!" Asti said. "You promised him a big reward from the
Endless Purse as well as restoring his powers! My goodness, I thought
you were assisting this girl for the sake of her grandfather! I wish I
could give you Scarolzzi fever again, you...you Pervert!"

"That's Pervect!" I growled.

Her accusation stung, but it was the truth. Why hide from it? I was
doing Calypsa a favor. So what if I got something in exchange for my
help? I wanted my powers back. If I could get them by collecting the
whole set of Franklin Talkative Trea­sures, then I'd do it. I've done worse.

"If we wish to discuss greed, what about you?" Ersatz said, turning to
Asti. "You are a member of the Golden Hoard! You are supposed to assist
those in need without consider­ation for material return! The makers who
set us on our path would be horrified that you put your base needs in
the way of our mission."

"Hmph! I notice that you're dipping into fashion yourself at the
moment," Asti said, a superior look on her bowl. "A new scabbard. I
suppose you want jade plates carved with the tales of your exploits sewn
to it."

"I had already sworn my allegiance to this child and her com­panions,"
Ersatz countered. "I had no idea that they would ne­glect me and my
offer of service in their haste to pander to you."

"It's only because she threatened to drown them in bad wine," Kelsa
pointed out, cheerfully. "That upchucking trick's always been one of her
favorites. Why, I was looking in once when she washed away an entire
garrison..."

"You're no better, blinding people or misleading them," Asti said, the
line of her mouth drawn into a sneer. "I'm sur­prised you haven't
already asked for a multi-sided box lined with mirrors so you can watch
yourself from all angles."

"Why, what a lovely idea!" Kelsa said, beaming. "Although I was very
much taken with Aahz's suggestion of a bowling

bag. Very compact and cosy. I don't need mirrors to see my­self, dear.
Besides, if I rolled into one and broke it, I'd prob­ably end up like
you, seven years bad luck—or seven hundred. Wasn't that when you first
got banged up?"

"Will you stop harping on that?" Asti asked. "Do you think I like
looking like this? It throws off my flow."

"Yes, I saw how you got that big thumbprint in your stem. But who knew
that curing that Troll of Gnrshkt poison was going to bring his strength
back all at once? Well, I did, but I wasn't there. I wish you could have
heard me. I was shouting my head off, telling him to let go. Of course,
I was ten dimen­sions away at the time. It was quite a shock to the
Kobold I was working for. He nearly forgot to invent the magikal
super­conductor!"

"That cursed Troll only made it worse when he tried to fix it," Asti
said, aggrievedly. "I thought every jewel was going to pop out of its
socket."

"Take your dents as hallmarks of your experience," Ersatz said.

"Oh, I suppose you let little nicks in your blade go by, do you?"

"Nicks interfere with my function. I don't see that dents prevented you
from causing an unnecessary flood of wine in that forest!"

"Now, now, what do mere appearances have to do with your eternal quest
to aid and assist those in danger?" Kelsa asked.

Both of the others rounded on her, united in a common enemy.

"Be quiet!"

"I was only pointing out the obvious!"

"That's all you can do, isn't it? Nothing useful, like cure poison,"
said Asti.

"Or slay enemies," added Ersatz.

"That's not all there is in life," Kelsa said, imperturbably. That
provoked the other two into another tirade.

"They hate each other!" Calypsa wailed. "They will never cooperate, and
my grandfather's life will be forfeit!"

"It's worse than that," Tananda said, leaning close to me. "They're
causing a buildup of force, right here in the restaurant."

"They're what?" I asked.

"You can almost see it," she said. "I'm not much of a magician, but even
I can feel an influx that large. In a minute, there's going to be an
explosion if they don't stop drawing in power!"

I put my hands on the tabletop' it was starting to vibrate. Tanda was
right. If the Hoard was the source of the distur­bance, we were in trouble.

"All right," I said. I turned to the three artifacts, who were bringing
up each other's shortcomings dating back at least a thousand years.

"And you predicted that those Imps would create a device so powerful
that it would destroy a world!"

"I was right! Three-card monte was the cause of the first decline of the
Zoorik economy!"

"What about your poisoning the Gnome Princess on her wedding night?"

"It wasn't poison, you idiot! It was a nerve tonic. So she drank too
much. So she fell asleep for three years. What /about you...?"/

The table-shaking was achieving the proportions of a fraudulent seance.
I slammed my hand in between them.

"All right. ALL RIGHT! SHUT UP! KNOCK IT OFF!"

The rafters rang, but it got their attention. The vibration slowed. It
didn't cease.

"Why the shouting, friend Aahz?" Ersatz asked mildly. Evi­dently his
beef with me was forgotten.

"Take a look at the atmosphere around us. Magik is piling up in here
like dung in a stockyard, and you three have to be the cause. This place
can't take it. Can you let the magik out without blowing up the inn?"

Kelsa closed her eyes behind the diamante spectacles. Her face
disappeared for a moment, and was replaced by the image of a horrifying
explosion that sent a curling fireball into the sky. "Good heavens, this
isn't like me!"

"I warned you, Aah2," Ersatz said. "You asked why the Golden Hoard never
assembles in any one place for long."

"We'd better get out of here," I said, rising hastily.

"Too late," said Tananda.

She was right. Rumbling began throughout the tent. The ground shook. The
pillars holding up the roof started to sway. Around us, the diners held
onto their tables. Suddenly, milkshakes began to fountain upward. I got
hit by a cold shower of sticky brown liquid. Calypsa disappeared in a
hail of fried potatoes. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and sponged
cola out of my eyes.

"If you're doing that, stop it," I ordered Asti.

"Good heavens, why do you think it's me?" she asked, innocently. A blob
of strawberry milkshake came down with a /splat! /and landed in her
bowl. "Say, that's good! Will your friend give me the recipe?"

I ignored her. The other patrons were regarding us with distrust and
concern. One Deveel had thrown himself across his tray to prevent his
food from taking off. Sandwiches flew around the room like Frisbees.

"We're going to have to take the food to go, Gus," I called. "Magikal
emergency. You know."

"Sure do, Aahz," he said. He turned to load the paper-wrapped food into
a white paper sack. I slipped some money over the counter and hoisted
the bag into my free arm. "Al­ways good to see you guys."

"Same here," I assured him, hustling the others out the door.

"Where are we going?" Asti asked. "We haven't picked up my case yet."

"We'd better get out of Deva," I said. "I have no intention of paying
for damages the Deveels dream up if you three cause

an explosion in one of the tents." The reason that insurance never
caught on here is that the Deveels started to plan fires and disasters
to consume unwanted or unsold merchandise and collect substantial loss
reimbursement. It would take a master magician or a master strategist to
figure out what had actually been in the tents at the time of the
catastrophe.

"What about my case?"

"And my scabbard?"

"And my.. .whatever I'm going to be dressed in?" Kelsa asked.

"Forget about them. We have to get out of here." I was ticked off
because my lunch was going to be delayed by three pieces of ancient
bric-a-brac who didn't know how to control themselves in public.

Calypsa laid a feathered hand on my arm and opened large dark eyes at
me. "We must keep our promises to them, dear Aahz."

"Look around you, sweetheart," I snarled. "This may look like friendly
territory, but if the rumor gets out that we're carrying three members
of the Hoard around, we're going to run into trouble. None of us has the
firepower to deal with a thousand Deveel merchants all wanting to get a
piece of us. Come on."

"Oh, no, not back into the rag bag again!" Asti wailed. "I'll have
revenge on you...murfle murfle Perfle."

I wound the bag shut and turned to Tanda. "The tent's bespelled against
magikal firepower. Let's duck in there. We can figure out where we're
going after that."

Chapter 9

"ANYONE HOME?" TANANDA called, as we shut the door of the tent behind
us. No one answered her. "I thought Guido and Nunzio were around, but
Don Bruce must have them out on a job."

"Just as well," I said.

I didn't feel like saying hello to anyone. I was regretting that I ever
got involved with Calypsa and her little mission. Twice while we were
crossing the short distance from the Yel­low Crescent Inn to our front
door, Tananda had signaled me that the magikal buildup was starting again.

I had hustled us past the dragon pen, crowded us to the far side of the
street away from the magik mirror shop, and avoided eye contact with a
few Deveels I knew who were big noises in the enchanted weapons line.
Luckily, they were arguing with an Imp who was trying to sell them a
carriage-mounted rail gun he must have lifted from one of the
high-technology di­mensions. No matter how legendary or magikal, a sword
just didn't have the drawing power of ten megatons with comput­erized
three-dimensional targeting.

''Why, it's bigger on the inside..." Calypsa began, staring around her
with wide eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted her. I plopped Asti onto the table just
inside the door and took a quick look around.

It was one of the narrowest and most humble-looking prop­erties on the
crowded lane, but the inside was luxurious. I had called it home for a
long while.

"Very nice," Kelsa said, once we got her out of her cone of silence.
"Quiet, though. Not what I expected."

Inside her globe was an image of the room, but as it had been months
ago, with the whole of M.Y.T.H., Inc., running around in there, working
on an assignment, checking in with each other, minding each other's
business, feeding or avoiding

the dragon. You could almost hear the voices' Guido's growl, Nunzio's
nasal alto, Skeeve's tenor, Chumley's cultured voice belying the
colossal fur mattress it was coming from, my own dulcet speech, and
Bunny's high-pitched tones cutting through with a reminder to keep
expenses down. I caught myself star­ing and yanked my gaze away. I had
to admit I missed those days, but they were past.

A fountain burbled away in the atrium that was lit by a shaft of
sunlight from a magikally warded skylight in the roof. Yes, I said roof.
Once beyond the door, we weren't in Deva any longer, and unbound, as I
mentioned before, by the square footage suggested by the cloth-and-stick
enclosure that was our front door. We were safe here...I hoped.

"Where are we going next?" I asked Calypsa.

'You ought to be going back to Stankel's booth," Asti said. "I'm sure my
case is ready by now."

"No. Where's the next treasure?" I asked, paying no atten­tion to the
cup. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the cheeks of her cup
turning bronze with annoyance. "Any of them here in Deva?"

Calypsa turned to the crystal ball, whose face had already vanished in a
swirl of clouds and sparkles. "No, not here," Kelsa said, after a
moment's contemplation. "My goodness. There certainly is a lot of
magikal interference. I can't get through...yes, I can. Ha, you can't
keep me down for long! Aaaah, ooooh, aaaah."

"What are you seeing, Kelsa?" Calypsa asked, running to kneel down
beside the table like a swan gliding onto a lake. I shook my head to
clear it. The Dance of Fascination must have some residual effect. If I
started thinking skinny feath­ered babes were appealing, then I needed a
shrink.

"You see the Purse yet?" I asked. The sooner I could get paid and out of
there, the better.

"I can't see Chin-Hwag at all—my guess is that it's not time for us to
find her. The Book is keeping himself hidden. Not surprising; he always
hated the hustle-bustle of the Hoard.

The Ring is in a dark place. I hear gurgles, like sewer pipes, and
music. I haven't got a clue as to what /that /means. Yet. Give me time,
dear. As for the Flute..."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"I see bright lights," Kelsa said, her voice becoming dreamy. "Loud
noise—applause. Thousands, no—millions are hang­ing on the melody.
There's such a mood of peace over the entire crowd, even the cutpurses
are apologetic. Yes, I see the landmarks. I know the dimension..."

"Well?"

Kelsa's face reappeared in the globe, a Pervect wearing a turban and
diamante glasses. She smiled sweetly at me. ".. .which I'll tell you
just as soon as you buy me a lovely ear­ning case. I agree with Calypsa'
you should keep your prom­ises to us, you know. It's bad karma otherwise!"

"Careful! I don't want my case touching hers," Asti protested, as I
stalked through the streets of Haze, a town in the dimen­sion of Elb.

We were disguised as members of the local species, a nar­row-faced,
skinny race whose fur came in varying shades of pink, from light shell
to shocking neon. Neither Tanda nor I had been here before, so we didn't
know if the particular col­ors indicated status, so I had her deck us
out in three different shades. I was the darkest pink, but the others
were bright enough to short out my retinas. I swung the purple container
to my other shoulder, away from Tananda, feeling as though I was
floating through a psychedelic nightmare.

"Well, you don't think I want more contact with you than I can help,"
Kelsa said, through the isinglass window of her pumpkin-colored tote
bag. "Your aura is very confused at the moment. I never noticed that, at
several dimensions remove, and believe me, I think I would have
preferred you stay at that distance. You're interfering with my reception."

"As if you get anything except hallucinations and infomercials," Asti
said, with a skeptical laugh.

"Be silent, the both of you," Ersatz commanded.

His dark blue eyes reflected off the length of blade that could be seen
through a convenient hatch that opened in his new scabbard, dyed
gunmetal blue and studded with cabo-chon diamonds, which complimented
the gems in his golden hilt. It was fancy but not gaudy, and the stones
wouldn't notch his blade if he came in contact with them.

"Who died and left you Ka-Khan?"

"I AM the leader of this group!"

I ignored them. My coin purse was a good deal lighter than it had been
three hours before. I was in a pretty bad mood over having been
railroaded into making two more purchases.

Tananda kept trying to tell me it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
Stankel hadn't had to make Kelsa's carrier from scratch, except to put
in a window so she could see out. Not that I had let him hear her
babble' after a big-eyed appeal from Calypsa, I took down a list of the
crystal ball's yens and put them before the Deveel leather-worker.
Stankel had given me a broad wink, as if he got the idea that he was
part of a big scheme I was pulling. There were times when having a
reputation for shaving the truth close enough for the silk veil test had
its advantages. Nor had he had to do more than edit a stock scabbard a
little to fit Ersatz's length and breadth, and add a few baubles. We
haggled out the price until /he /was green in the face and /I /was
turning red, but we left the shop with the three required containers.
Each of us took one, since the Hoard treasures decided they were
entitled to an exclu­sive bearer apiece. Three of them, three of us. It
was no skin off my nose, just one more inconvenience I had to suffer.
Ensconced in their new finery, they ceased griping, for at least twenty
yards.

Then it began again.

"Friend Aahz, I have just counted the number of gems Asti has adorning
her new domicile. I do not wish to be a constant complainer..."

"Then, don't," I said, cutting him off.

The master cutter didn't take the hint. "I think you should have made
certain we were equal in all ways."

"You should have said something at the time, then," I said.

"You told me that if I spoke again you would twist me into a knot. And
Kelsa you would use as a ball-bearing in a dung-wagon. And Asti you
would use as a chamber pot."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, absently. "And I should have, too."

"Is that any way to speak to heroes of history?" Asti asked, putting in
her two copper pieces.

"Yes. Where are we going?" I asked Kelsa, for the 45th time.

"What?" she asked, in a dazed voice.

I took the orange case away from Tananda and stuck my face in the little
window. "Where...are...we...going...now?"

"Oh, isn't this nice?" she said, the green face spinning diz­zily in the
globe. "I haven't had as attractive a reticule like this since, oh, two
thousand three hundred years ago. Since then, it's been patch, patch,
patch! Or sitting on a table under a cloth. I don't mind that, because
you're not getting bumped around, actually, but you understand, when
you're on the move, it makes all the difference to be really
/comfortable.../.!"

I groaned.

It had taken some serious persuasion to get Kelsa's at­tention away from
her fancy new surroundings before she came up with the name of the
dimension where we could find Buirnie, the magik Flute' Elb. Then I had
to make sure she was directing us toward the part of Elb where we could
locate it. I considered this particular treasure a waste of time, from
my point of view, since the Flute couldn't help me re­gain my magik, nor
could it repay what was turning into a substantial debt. The sooner we
could get him and get on to the next treasure, the better.

I didn't worry whether the notoriously flaky Crystal Ball had given us a
wrong steer. From the looks of things, the fourth member of the Hoard
didn't bother trying to conceal his pres­ence; in fact, just the opposite.

Close to the center of town, we started seeing posters plas­tered to the
side of buildings advertising a concert. "Buirnie! Playing All Week!
Tickets from Three Silver Pieces! The Elb Arena!" At the bottom,
superimposed over the image of an impressive building, was a hand-drawn
illumination of a golden flute studded with gems and surrounded by a
halo of light.

"Guess we found him," I said.

"Do you think he might be in the Arena now?" Tananda asked.

"Oh, yes," Kelsa assured us. "He likes to warm up before playing.
Loosens all his valves, he says. Sometimes I just tune in to him to
listen. He's really very good..."

"Why is that a surprise?" Asti asked. "Of course he's good! He's one of us!"

"Why are you defending the noisemaker?" Ersatz asked. "You never cared
about him before this."

"You never tried to defend him yourself," Asti pointed out. "You always
told him to shut up because his playing was mak­ing your metal bend."

I tuned out the babble.

Locating the Elb Arena was easy. Over the top of the shops and houses, I
could see the cupola that had been pictured on the poster. I led us
through the narrow alleyways and through streets crowded with donkey
wagons and foot traffic.

The Arena stood in the center of a square filled with mu­seums,
galleries and public sculpture, a hulk of a building con­structed of
greenish stone and decorated in a local style that approximated rococo
but with extra flourishes. The entrance was an archway of fancifully
twisted and carved stone depict­ing flowers, hairy nymphs, fish and
birds, all gilded and painted as if there had been a special running on
loud colors at the home-decorating store.

Finding the back-stage door was easier yet. At the center of the rear
wall was a smaller version of the grand entrance, nymphs and all, but in
miniature.

Trying to get through said back door was a different question.

"Come on," I told the two heavily-armed Trolls lounging against the wall
as if they were holding it up, "we're friends of the band. Buirnie will
be ticked off if you don't tell him we have come to see him. We came all
the way from another di­mension to visit him."

"Dey all say dat," the first Troll opined.

"Take off," the second Troll said, not troubling to take a toothpick,
the size of a belaying pin, out from between an incisor and a bicuspid.

"Look," I said, leaning toward them confidentially. "We've come a long
way to see Buirnie. We're not from this dimension."

I nodded to Tananda, who took the disguise spell off. The Trolls stood
upright.

"See? We brought a few special guests with us. If you don't believe me,
take the names in to the Flute, and see what he says. If he tells you to
toss us out, then do it. What have you got to lose?"

"Don't like to interrupt Mr. Buirnie," the first Troll said, letting his
lower lip hang loose.

But I could see that he was eying Tananda. A Trollop like her wouldn't
be fooled by the dense act that the males of Trollia put on when they
were in other dimensions. Her brother Chumley, a large, purple-furred
Troll, concealed his intellec­tual qualities so he could get work as a
bodyguard, under the /nom de guerre /Big Crunch. I figured these two
were also pulling down decent salaries by concealing their IQ points.

"Oh, come on," Tananda said, sidling in between them. She put an arm
around each, running her hands up and down their furry backs. I know
what kind of effect she has on other species; to her own kind that touch
must be electrifying. The big lugs practically started purring. "One of
you can just run inside and ask Buirnie if he'll see some old friends,
can't you? For me?"

The two Trolls eyed one another.

"You go," the first Troll said.

"No. Me like it here. You go."

"I senior. You go."

"Now, boys," Tananda said, keeping her personal magik going as her
fingers flew along their spines. "We'll /all /go."

Before we went inside, she restored the disguise spell. Just in time,
too, because the theater was bustling. Backstage bosses in purple
coveralls were yelling at the crews, who carried pieces of sets and
rolled racks of costumes past us. Calypsa followed, her beak agape with
astonishment. I brought up the rear, mak­ing sure no one followed us
down the corridor.

"I don't see how you are earning any part of your reward today, Aahz,"
Asti said. "You botched the negotiations. Your Trollop closed the deal,
and neatly, I might add. Nothing to do with you at all!"

"Shut up," I snarled. I had just been admiring Tanda's tech­nique, and
the goblet's remarks drained all the joy out of it like a hole in a wine
keg. "We got in, didn't we? I don't care what works as long as something
did. If she hadn't persuaded them, I would have found another way. I
didn't have to. End of story."

"Ah, well, you have an excuse for everything," Asti said, in a
dismissive tone, as we passed through a felt-covered door. "I suppose
you have to, with your lack of success."

"What do you mean, my lack of success?" I bellowed.

"Shh!" one of the Trolls hissed, distracted away from Tananda's
ministrations. "Buirnie doesn't like nobody's loud noises but his own."

"What's all the racket going on out there?" demanded a shrill voice that
filled the short hallway. "I can't hear myself whistle!"

The Trolls held open a set of double doors adorned with huge gold stars
and escorted us through them. There was no doubt we were entering an
audience chamber. The room was crowded with furniture and people, but I
had no trouble pick­ing out Buirnie himself. For one thing, he was the
only gold flute in the room, arranged upon an emerald green velvet pil-

low, and for another, a spotlight shone down on him. The glare off his
golden carapace was almost blinding. It cast everything else in shadow.
I squinted and got a better look at him. Buirnie wasn't exactly a flute.
He was in the flute family, but he was one of its smallest members. He
was a fife.

"Who's there?" he demanded. "Come on, who has come to visit Buirnie of
the Golden Voice?"

"Buirnie of the Colossal Ego, you mean," Asti said, in a long-suffering
voice.

"Asti? Asti, is that you? I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force.
How the /peep /are you?"

"And me, dear," Kelsa spoke up. "And Ersatz."

Little round emeralds at the top of the Flute above the embouchure
widened into large emeralds. "Well, this IS a sur­prise! I thought that
the next time we all met would be one of the signs of the Final Apocalypse!"

"Nothing that spectacular, I hope," Asti said.

"Tell me all about it! I love surprises, especially when they aren't
fatal ones!" Buirnie let out a high pitched chuckle.

This was some kind of signal, because the Elbans in the room broke out
into hysterical giggles. He let out a sharp whistle, and they stopped,
all glancing at one another nervously. Hangers on. Sycophants.

"Not fatal, you silly bird-call, but important."

"Can we talk in private?" I said, trying to wrest control of the
conversation back from the Cup.

"Clear the way, folks, clear the way!" Buirnie exclaimed. "Make way for
my oldest and dearest friends! And a few new ones," he said, eying
Tananda, Calypsa and me warily. "Sit down, sit down. The rest of you
come back when I whistle!"

The Elban attendants hustled out, but the two Trolls re­mained. They
stepped forward to flank the velvet pillow. When everyone else was gone,
the emeralds turned toward me.

"So, the band is getting back together!" Buirnie said, with a jovial,
easy attitude that I didn't buy for one minute. "You have a masterful
air about you, big fellah. You tell me what's

going on. To what do I owe the honor of this visit? Do I owe any of you
money?" Buirnie broke into nervous laughter. The drum on the floor next
to him rolled a rim shot. "Hey, thanks, Zildie!"

"I'm just the brains of this operation, but the one I want you to listen
to is the skinny girl back there." I aimed a thumb at the disguised Walt
behind me. "Calypsa's got a story to tell you."

"Sit down, lovely child," Buirnie said hospitably. She looked at me for
clarification. I signed to her to sit down on the has­sock beside the
raised cushion. "Klik, widen the beam so it illuminates both of us, will
you?"

"Gotcha, boss!" A voice came from overhead. I glanced upward. The
brilliant light which was focused upon the Flute hopped from one part of
the ceiling to another, and the glare increased. "How's that?"

"Great!" Buirnie said. "Calypsa, is it? You're a pretty little gal,
aren't you? Will you have some wine?" He let out a sharp whistle, three
brief blasts. A tall Elban female came rushing in with a tray, smiling
shyly at us. "Now, what can Buirnie the Great do for you?"

"Tell him your story," I said.

Calypsa took a deep breath. "It all began ten years ago...."

"How about some sweetmeats?" Buirnie hadn't listened to a word. He
tootled a trill. Another Elban hurried behind her, pushing a wheeled
tray. "These are the best cocoriddle waffles in the city. Or so I'm
told. I don't eat them myself, of course."

"No, thanks," I said. I turned both females around and hustled them back
out, and locked the door behind them to prevent any more interruptions.
I signed to Tananda. Our dis­guises dropped. The Fife's emerald eyes
went wider than be­fore.

"You're not from around here, are you? A Trollop, a Walt and a
Per...Pervect. Don't hurt me, please. I give pleasure to millions!"

The Trolls stepped closer, folding their meaty arms across their chests.

"We're not here to hurt you," I said. "We need your help. Okay, kid," I
told Calypsa. "Talk."

She tried. Buirnie was too nervous to be a good listener. He kept
interrupting with offers of hospitality, comments on the weather,
compliments to us, and musical interludes. In the end she got it all out.

"So I appeal to you," she concluded, "honored Buirnie. Join me and help
set my grandfather free of the terrible wizard's chains before the time
runs out!"

"What an awful situation! I can see why my brother and sister Hoarders
are involved. And these fine people are help­ing you, too? That's very
noble of them," the Flute said. "Not so noble," Asti burst out.
/"Rewards /are involved."

"That's not uncommon," Buirnie chided her. "They're only mortal, after
all. No offense!" he added, as I rose from my seat with intent.

"Let's get to the point," I said. "She needs the entire Golden Hoard,
and that means you, too. What about it? We've got three more treasures
to look up after you."

The Fife turned to Calypsa. "Little gal, I feel for you. I know how much
your grandfather means to you, but I re­ally have too much to do to come
on another quest at the moment."

"Buirnie!" Ersatz chided him.

"Ersatz, I am serious. You wouldn't kick loose from the middle of a war
to go bounding off to another battle, would you?"

"No..."

"Then you will understand why I can't leave. I have obli­gations here.
Very important ones."

"Ones that /make you /feel important, you mean," Kelsa said.

"Naturally, sweet thing!" Buirnie said.

"But my grandfather's life is at stake here!" Calypsa said, wringing her
hands together. "This is important."

Buirnie let out a whistling sigh. "That, little lady, is what they all
say. Sorry."

"I'll do anything if you will come with me!"

"Anything?" Buirnie asked, on a rising note of interest.

"Within reason," I said, firmly. "You're not going to pull any funny
business on this girl."

"You bet. I would never ask this little lady to do anything that might
make her uncomfortable. Let's make it a fair con­test," Buirnie said,
clearly not liking the expression on my face. "Well, then, I've got a
proposition for you. I'm sponsoring a contest in which I am looking for
the very best singer on Elb."

"What's it called?" Calypsa asked eagerly.

"It's called /The Very Best Singer on Elb. /I named it myself," Buirnie
said proudly. "I host it every year, in several different dimensions.
Maybe you've seen me on the crystal network?"

"Oh, I have," Kelsa said. "The last one on Calliope who won, I thought
she wasn't quite as good as the second place, though somehow the
audience voted for her..."

"Not now," I said, cutting her off. "We're talking business."

"Oh, very well, but she wasn't as good!" Kelsa subsided, blinking at me
from behind her glasses.

"Nobody cares," I said, curtly. I turned back to the Flute. "What's this
proposition?"

"It's perfectly simple," Buirnie said. "I'll play you for my cooperation."

"But that isn't fair," Calypsa said. "I am a dancer, not a singer."

Buirnie shuddered. "Neither are most of the people who enter the
contest. But, it's my challenge. If you really want my help, you'll rise
to the occasion. Come up on stage with me tonight. If you enter the
contest—and you win—I'll come with you now, and abandon my other
obligations to help save your grandfather. What do you say?"

What choice did we have?

Buirnie had the Trolls escort us out of his dressing room and down under
the stage into a huge chamber that had all the

charm of the dungeon in Mernge. Its rough stone walls had been lined
with mirrors and clothes racks where all the other contestants were
getting ready for the contest. I had Tananda restore our disguises. I
didn't want to scare the locals. Besides, Calypsa was so nervous that
her feet did the flamenco all the way down the stairs.

"I don't even speak the language!" Calypsa wailed. "How can I please
such an audience? Woe to the House of Calypso, that it should be reduced
to a /singing /contest to save itself!"

"Since when did you ever have stage fright?" I asked her.

"Fear not, child," Ersatz said, soothingly. "Be valiant and do your
best. All will come out well."

"Can you give her a potion to calm her down?" I asked Asti.

"Oh, no artificial stimulants permitted!" Kelsa shrilled. "She would be
disqualified."

"Maybe that would be best," Tananda said. "She's too ner­vous to compete."

"You stay here," I said to Tananda. "I'll scope out the com­petition."

Buirnie was right' most of them weren't good. That was our best hope,
that whatever peep Calypsa could let out in front of the audience would
sound better than the rest of them.

"Aaaahhh hohhhh! Ah hah hah hah! Ah hee hee hee hee hee!"

I narrowed my eyes. That sounded suspiciously like opera, and pretty
professional, too. I shoved through the crowd of wannabes looking for
the source of the sound.

At the very back of the big dressing room, a huge female Elban was
warming up. Her voice was so loud it rang off the rafters and the stone
walls. Most of the contestants near her had edged as far away as the
crowd permitted. I grabbed a powder puff off the nearest dressing table,
tore it in half, and shoved it into my ears. If the Elbans near me
noticed a dis­crepancy between the apparent size of my ears and the
amount of fluffy wool I could stuff into them, they were in too much

misery to say so. Not that I would have cared; it was a matter of survival.

The female, a bright pink like I was supposed to be, tipped me a wink,
laid a delicate hand across her ample chest, and burst into song. My
heart sank. Calypsa was right. We didn't have a chance. I went back to
my companions to wait out the inevitable and work on a Plan B.

Chapter 10

THE EXCITEMENT IN the wings of the immense theater was palpable, but I
knew we were fighting a hopeless cause. Tananda and I had helped Calypsa
go over every song she knew to pick out one that would please the
audience and the Flute, who had avoided all contact with us from the
moment we'd been ushered out of his dressing room. It didn't help that
the opera singer had been as good as she had sounded warming up, but
even the bad singers were better than our candidate. The producer, a
stout male with a pale coat, kept shushing us. I felt like tearing his
head off, but that wouldn't have made Calypsa's singing any better. I
don't think anything could have.

"I don't know why we didn't just pick him up and /bamf o/ut when we had
the chance," I grumbled, not for the first time.

"It is fair for him to set such a contest," Ersatz said. "Why, I mind me
of a time when I was rammed into a stone by a wizard, to seek him who
should be king of the land."

"Don't tell me—a twelve-year-old boy drew you."

"Nay, of course not," Ersatz said. "It was a great lug of a man with all
the brains of a slime-mold, but he had the muscle to overcome the
objections of his peers. In the end he was no worse a king than anyone
else might have been."

"Shhh!"

At that moment, Buirnie was out on stage with the ever-present
spotlight, Klik, shining down on him, showing him off in the best
possible light. Petite Elbans with aprons came out and polished him in
between acts, dusting off minute motes. The Fife was fussier than any
ten divas I had ever met. He certainly looked good in comparison with
his hapless contes­tants. And sounded better. I had cotton stuffed in my
ears to protect them, though it didn't block out all the noise.

At intermission, I went out to get a drink—Crom knew I deserved one—and
started sidling up to people in the bar and

in the lobby. Since it was audience's choice who won, a little
persuasion, threat or bribery might help our candidate to the finish line.

"Vote for Calypsa," I told a big Elban with a white mus­tache in the
middle of his light pink face. "She's the best."

"Someone's got to be," the male said, with a grimace that told me he was
enjoying the contest about as much as I was.

"Vote for Calypsa," I suggested to a tableful of matronly looking
females seated at a table in the back of the bar. "She's an orphan, and
she could really use the break."

"Awwww." The women put their heads together. I went after a cluster of
young Elbans giggling in front of a poster of Buirnie.

"Vote for Calypsa. She's a personal friend of his, ya know."

"Really?" one of the females asked, her eyes wide. I tapped the side of
my nose with my forefinger, and the kids went into a huddle. I cornered
a couple of big males by the men's room.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll vote for Calypsa."

They backed away from me. "All right! All right! Take a pill, man!"

After a few more swings as good-will ambassador, I went backstage again.
I had done all I could to stuff the ballot box.

In the wings, Calypsa was pacing up and back, fluttering her arms in
agitation.

"What are you so nervous about?" I asked her, more than once. "You don't
have stage fright. I don't see that you are afraid of much at all. You
danced in front of the crowd in the bar. You're good. I've never seen a
pip with more pizazz! You stood up to an evil wizard. You've even faced
me down. What's the problem?"

"I am not dancing for these people!" she said, her Elban-disguised face
long with despair. "I am /singing. /The Walts do not sing, they dance.
You will see. I will fail."

"Nonsense," Ersatz said, as Calypsa handed him off to Tananda. "You will
do well. Stout heart! You are of the great clan of Calypso! Never forget
your honored heritage."

She gave him a faint smile.

"Calypsa!" A faded, middle-aged Elban bustled up to us and hung a
numbered tag around her neck. "You're on." He shoved her out of the
wings and into the glowing spotlight.

"Break a leg, kid," I said.

She might have gotten better reviews if she had.

She was terrible. I mean, beyond terrible. She was so scared her whole
body trembled visibly.

"Oh, the pretty little flowers, how fair their faces in the sun," she
warbled uneasily. "The rain rains down, the clouds are blown, and spring
is here for everyone..." Her voice went off key every other word. I
winced at the horrible rhymes, but it was the best we were able to do in
a hurry to render the lyrics of the folk song from Walt to Elban. You
know there are phrases that lose something in translation. This was not
only lost, it was beyond retrieval.

The audience had responded to good candidates with whis­tling and
applause. The mediocre ones got a mix of clapping and booing. The awful
ones fled the stage to a medley of jeers and derisive laughter.
Calypsa's effort was rewarded with total silence. No, not quite total.
Far away in the dark a single set of hands was clapping.

A stagehand peeked out through the curtains. "That's old man Dovacek.
He's tone deaf. He likes everything."

"She's dying out there," Tananda said, sympathetically.

"Who says Calypsa is dying?" Ersatz exclaimed. "She shall not die alone!
Get me to her hand! I will save her."

"Not literally dying, you letter-opener," I snapped. "She's just going
to lose. I wonder if it's possible to come in farther back than last.
She's just got to relax. There's nothing to it."

"If it's so easy," Asti said, from the pouch under my arm, "then you go
out there."

I ignored her. We had bigger problems.

"We're going to lose this round," Tanda whispered to me. "Buirnie said
he'd only come along if we won. Wonder if I can find a talking recorder
out there T can paint gold."

"No," I said. "A fake won't fool a real wizard. If this Barrik's worth
any of his reputation, he'll see through it, and her grand­father will
be toast."

"It could with a good enough illusion spell. If we have all the other
treasures, maybe he won't pay too close attention."

"It's worth a try," I said, thoughtfully.

"You won't have to do that," Asti said, from the pouch under my arm.
"Get out there and win this contest yourself!"

"What?" I yelped. The stagehands all glared at me.

"That child can't succeed. You haven't done a thing to earn your keep
today, you worthless sack of scaly skin. Go!"

I looked out at the vast bowl of the theater.

"Not a chance," I said. "Buirnie set her the challenge, not us."

'You said you would help her, and by the Singing Bowls of Aphis, she
needs your help now! Go!"

Suddenly, I felt something warm dribble down onto my right foot. It
started burning. I hopped onto the other foot and clutched my toes. The
liquid stung my hand, too.

"Acid!" I jumped back to avoid it.

I held the case out at arm's length, but she had burned a hole in the
leather at the top. A spray narrowly missed me. I dropped her and dodged
the next fountain of pain. The next thing I knew, I was under a hot
white light.

"Whee-eet!" Buirnie whistled in surprise. "Well, then, this is an
unexpected pleasure! Thank you, Calypsa! Welcome our next contestant, Aahz!"

"Now, sing, you ugly lizard!" Asti's voice rang through the arena,
louder than the opera singer had been. A titter ran through the
audience. I snarled. No one laughs at me!

"Go ahead, Aahz," Buirnie said, encouragingly. "Wow us!"

I couldn't really see the audience past the first few rows, but I knew
there were over ten thousand spectators watch­ing me. Well, they were in
for a treat. On Perv I was con­sidered to have a pretty decent voice—no,
a great voice. All I had to do was decide what I was going to sing. I knew

thousands of songs, ranging from drinking songs to lieder to Broadway
show tunes, from hundreds of dimensions. I went through my memory for
the best one to show off my range.

It was blank. My mind could not recall a single song. I gritted my teeth
in frustration. Come on! I chided myself. Me, Aahz, with /stage fright?/

Somewhere in the darkness, a high voice tittered. A few guffaws joined
it. I gritted my teeth. I was going to get my powers back, and I would
come back here and knit their fuzzy coats together in a giant afghan.

In the meantime, the show must go on. Finally, a tune came back to me.
One that would knock them all out.

"Hail, Perv!" I burst out. "We're green and scaly. We mean business. ..."

Before I knew it, I had launched into the national an­them of Perv.
Written about three thousand years ago, it de­scribes how we came to be
an independent, united dimen­sion, by defeating our enemies. The first
verse is the usual bluster, albeit true, how great Pervects are. The
second goes on to list our conquests of other dimensions. Subsequent
verses are about maiming and torturing our enemies, all in the name of
freedom, going into exquisite detail, including how my ancient ancestors
had their way with the captured women, to further our chosen way of
life. It had eighteen verses, fifteen of which I hadn't sung since
school. Once I could remember the first line of the next stanza, it came
roll­ing out like I was back in Miss Grimnatz's primary school class. I
started to relax, belting out the high notes, and rum­bling the low ones
like threats.

After verse two, the members of the audience in the first few rows,
which was as far as I could see with the spotlights in my eyes, looked
uneasy. After verse four, some of them started to get up and edge toward
the doors. The sixth verse, which features a pretty good description of
hot irons and whips, made them run for the doors. Wimps, I thought.

I finished the song without blowing a single line. At the end, I held
out my arms for applause. Instead of the expected roar of approbation,
it was tentative and faint.

"Hey, there," Buirnie said, when I glared out over the foot­lights at
the unseen audience, "sympathy applause is better than no applause at
all, eh?"

The drum beat a rim shot.

"Thank you, thank you," Buirnie said, modestly. "Now, the voting!
Everyone hand in their ballots. He peered into the darkness of the
audience. "Is /anyone /out there?"

The Trolls lumbered off the stage. They were back in a moment. One of
them brandished a sheet of paper. "Here's duh vote," he said.

"One vote?" Buirnie asked, astonished.

"There's only one guy out there." The Troll pretended to count on his
fingers. "Yeah."

"Just one," the second Troll confirmed. "Dat old pink guy. Don't hear so
good."

"Well, all right," Buirnie said, faintly. "Who won?"

The Troll pointed at me. "He did."

"I did?" I said, doing a double-take. Then I straightened up. "I mean, I
won! Yeah. Well, did anyone doubt it for a minute?"

Tananda zoomed in and gave me a passionate kiss of con­gratulations.
"Never, handsome."

"My hero!" Calypsa declared, running out and hanging on my arm.

"You sounded like an alligator gargling ball bearings," Asti said. "But
you did it. Well done. The drinks are on me."

"Never mind that," I said, uncharacteristically putting li­quor behind
duty. I turned to Buirnie. The golden Flute looked up uneasily at me
from his cushion. "All right, I won your cockamamie contest. You got a
suitcase you want to use?"

The Flute regarded me with some confusion.

"Er, what for?"

"You're coming with us, aren't you?"

"Well, no. I can't."

"No?" I bellowed. "After I stood up and sang? You bet you're coming."

"You made a bargain, Buirnie," Ersatz said severely.

Buirnie turned to his fellow Hoard members. "You know, I never liked any
of you. Bringing a Perv...Perv./..Pervert /into MY theater!"

I couldn't help myself. "That's Per-VECT!"

I reached out to yank his little ferrules off. The Trolls grabbed me and
twisted my arms behind my back.

Buirnie gulped. "Not so fast, not so fast, er, Pervect! I was
just jerking your chain. I just wanted to see how badly you
wanted my help. You would not believe how many untalented
fame-seekers come looking for me, hoping to make a fast buck
in the troubadour world. Of /course /I will help you. I am a mem­
ber of the Golden Hoard, after all! Our job is to fight for right.
I'll join you "

"Good." I relaxed, and the Trolls let me go. "Let's pack you up and get
out of here. We've got three more treasures to find before we can get
Calypsa's grandfather out of hock."

Buirnie tootled a protest.

"Not so fast! I will join you /in six months, /when my current tour ends."

"Six months!"

Calypsa sank down beside him.

"But I need you now! My grandfather has only a couple of weeks before
Barrik will kill him! I do not know how he sur­vives in the terrible
dungeons of the evil Barrik, eating per­haps who knows what awful food,
and subjected to frighten­ing tortures!"

Buirnie turned large, sympathetic emeralds toward her. "Well, little
lady, I am sorry. This program that I'm working on boosts the
self-esteem of thousands of would-be perform­ers of many races. The
needs of the many, you understand, outweigh the life of one, no matter
how devoted, fan. How bad could prison food be? And torture—let me tell
you about

torture! I have to listen to thousands of untrained singers just to find
a few who can get up on stage and belt it out! I have another week here,
then I go to Imper, then Zoorik, then Chimer, so, it was nice seeing all
of you, but unless you want tickets, there's nothing more I can do for you."

"This is important!"

"So is this, little lady."

"To your ego, perhaps, mighty fife," Ersatz said.

The Flute let out a blast that made my teeth curl. "It's not just my
ego! If you knew how many lives were being changed here, you wouldn't be
so dismissive. Sure I get some ego-boo out of it. This is a battle for
the fine arts, for the souls of these people. There's a harmonic
convergence on the way that will join together force lines in six
dimensions. Peace will flow among these races. It'll be the greatest
thing to happen since...well, since /never. /Well, it was nice to see
you. I hope it never happens again. Maybe by the time my tour ends
you'll figure out some other way to rescue Calypsa's grandfather. Bye!"

I shook my head with a sigh. "You know the trouble with you, pal, is
that you protest a lot, but you've got one big weakness." / /"What's that?"

"You're portable." I reached for him.

"No! Don't touch me!" He let out a tremendous shriek. The sound went
right through my sensitive ear drums and into my brain, but I couldn't
move my hands to protect my ears. Suddenly, the tune changed. One of my
feet lifted and set down again. Then, the other one rose and fell. My
arms devel­oped their own personality, something they were channeling
from an insane disco dancer. They waved and flailed as grace-lessly as
drunks at a wedding, but that was nothing compared with what my feet
were doing. Hop-hop-hop, slide, hop-hop-hop, slide, kick, kick. The
music was irresistible. I couldn't stop moving.

"Aahz!" Tananda shouted, twirling like a Dervish in drag. "Do something!"

"I am," I growled, through gritted teeth. "I'm doing the Spanish Panic."

The obvious solution was to get Buirnie to stop playing. Fighting my
disco-infected feet, I struggled to move toward him. I felt as though I
was swimming upstream. The harder I fought to control myself, the more
frenziedly I danced. Calypsa whirled and pirouetted around us like a
ballet dancer caught in the spin cycle of a tumble dryer. I got within a
couple of feet of the Flute, but I couldn't force myself any closer.

"Stop the music," I ordered Buirnie.

"No!" he said. The music continued even while he was talking. Evidently
he was an expert at multi-tasking. "Not un­til you agree to go away and
leave me alone. I'm happy here."

"Since when," Ersatz asked, jouncing along on Calypsa's back, "were you
or any of us meant to be happy?"

"Well, I admit that I came to it late in life, old pal, but it's really
nice. You should try it!"

"I have no intention of 'trying it.' My joy lies in service to others.
You cannot keep these people dancing forever."

"Don't have to," Buirnie said. "My Trolls will throw you out into the
street, and that'll be that."

"They're stuck in your musical spell, too," I pointed out. "If you let
them go, we're free, too."

Buirnie looked past me. The two Trolls were slam-danc­ing. All around
us, the stage hands had broken into a boogie. The Flute's personal
assistants danced the hora in a circle in the wings.

"Oh," he said. "I forgot. Well, if you promise to go away, I'll stop
playing."

'You made /me /a promise," Calypsa said. "You will come with me now."

'You can't make me, little lady," the Fife said, with smug satisfaction.

"I can!" Calypsa said, throwing back her head easily. Her feet flew.
'You do not trifle with the line of Calypso! Music will not stop me!"

With that, she began double-stepping the music, adding flourishes and
twists. Her nostrils flared, and her hands rose over her head, fingers
clicking together to the drum beat. She twirled from toe to toe, moving
ever closer to Buirnie. She was dancing as I had never seen anyone dance
before. I was so fascinated I forgot my feet were prisoners. Buirnie
upped the tempo, driving her back, but Calypsa wasn't pushed far. She
stayed right with him. When he piped staccato, she drummed her heels on
the floor. When he whistled a tarantella, she kicked and frolicked
along. He tried hot jazz. Her big eyes flashed as she leaped in the air
and came down in a split, then bounded up again and rolled over
backwards to come up on one foot like an ice skater. The Flute's jeweled
eyes followed her, glow­ing with fascination. I was fascinated, too, but
I wasn't about to show it. As far as I was concerned, I wanted him to
think this was a walk in the park for Calypsa.

"You can see she can take anything you throw at her," I panted. "You
give up yet?"

"Never!" Buirnie said. He switched tempos, going to a bro­ken beat.
Calypsa didn't even blink. She added whirls and leaps to her footwork,
clicking her fingers together. She fixed her luminous eyes on him.
Buirnie's music hesitated. I could tell Calypsa had him now. She circled
in on him, slowing. The music slowed down in response. My feet stopped
pounding the stage like telegraph keys and settled into a two-step so I
could keep an eye on them. She picked up the Flute from his pillow and
held it aloft in triumph.

"Will you yield to me now?" she demanded.

"You bet, little lady!"

Chapter 11

"ATTA GIRL," I said, smirking. "Well, flute, you've been out­classed,
outsung and outdanced. What do you say?"

"I think I'm in love," Buirnie said, the emeralds turning heart-shaped.
"Little lady, I'll go anywhere you want me to!"

"Er...I...well, all right," Calypsa said, a little uncertainly. I shook
my head. She was going to have to learn to handle her successes with
more confidence.

The tootling concluded in an exhausted coda that I'd de­scribe as 'shave
and a haircut, two bits' with extreme preju­dice. I whirled to a halt,
gasping for breath. Tananda spun in against me. I caught her before she
fell over.

"I feel sick," Asti said, from my side pocket.

"You and me both," I said. "You got anything in the way of motion
sickness potions?"

"Coming right up," she said. Pale pink liquid flooded the bowl of the
goblet. The level immediately sank by a couple of inches. She sighed.
"Ah, that's better." I tipped her up and glugged down a hefty swig of
what was left. It tasted of pep­permint and the hair of the dog, but I
felt the vertigo recede immediately. I passed it off to Tananda, who
gulped the rest of the potion gratefully. Calypsa didn't need it. She
didn't even look winded. Buirnie was delighted. He never stopped talking.

"You're /more /than worthy to have me serve you, lovely lady! I can't
wait to meet your grandfather. If you're anything like him, he must be
extraordinary! When I think how long it's been since anyone could keep
up with me...I can't even tell you, but it wasn't in THIS century! How'd
you like to be my protege? We'll make beautiful music together—that is,
I'll make the music, and you'll perform to it. Wow, no one's ever done
such original interpretation of my polka ballet! I can't wait to play
you some more of my compositions. I've got thousands that no one has
ever heard, let alone danced to!"

"Back off!" Ersatz thundered from his scabbard. "I have first call upon
this wench's education!"

"You? What can a sword teach a little gal like this one? She's none of
your warrior stock! Look at those legs! Look at those graceful arms."

"I see great promise in this child, and she will not be well served by
such a frivolous tootler as yourself!"

"Frivolous! Who are you calling frivolous? Swords are like dress
clothes—you only need them once in a while, then you stick them in the
closet until the next time! Music is for every day!"

"That is why you must not waste her time, with your ev­eryday /pipings"
/Ersatz said severely. "Such a talent is not to be expended on trivia."

"Who do you think you are?" Ersatz asked, magnificent in his dudgeon. I
see promise in this girl, the likes of which I have not seen since the
great Marisu! It should not be wasted on such nonsense as tootling!"

Buirnie wasn't going to let the matter drop. "Well, you /got /Marisu.
You ought to let this child work with me! She's got a musical bent. She
belongs with me."

"My goodness, Marisu! I haven't thought of her in years!" Kelsa said.

"Who's Marisu?" I asked.

"A protege of the greatest possible promise," Ersatz said with a sigh.
"She might have accomplished anything, any goal she chose to strive for.
I was sorely grieved to lose her."

Tananda's face softened. "What happened to her?"

"She got married to a handsome prince," Kelsa said.

"And lived happily ever after," Ersatz added, glumly.

"I suppose that is a tragedy if you're a war-sword," Tananda said,
trying not to laugh.

"Ah, fair lady, you have no notion of how great a tragedy it is!" He
glanced at Calypsa. "It would be an honor to teach you my craft, if you
would care to learn."

"How about mine?" Buirnie asked. "Music is a lot closer to her natural
talent than hacking and slashing!"

"Hold it right there," I said, getting between them. "What makes you
think you have ANY authority over Calypsa at all?"

That stopped the two of them dead. They glared at one another, then
Ersatz turned to me.

"Forgive me, Aahz," the Sword said, apologetically. "If I have stepped
upon your purview. I did not realize you had taken her on as your protege."

"Well, how could you...WHAT?"

"I presume that, like my companions and me, you have discerned the
depths of this youngling's talents," Ersatz said, his steel-blue eyes
understanding. "I assume that your inter­ruption of our discussion means
that you have staked a claim. I would never seek to interfere with that,
friend Aahz. If you wish to be her teacher, then I defer in your favor."

"NO! I don't need any more apprentices," I said, maybe a little more
harshly than I intended. At the sound of my voice, the stage hands had
all fled for the far end of the stage. I noticed that Calypsa looked a
little hurt. Ersatz didn't take offense.

"All is well, then. If you don't mind, then I shall put my­self forward
as her instructor. I believe that it will benefit us all to have this
child trained in the martial arts. What do you say, lass?"

"I..." The Walt hesitated. "I had not thought about it. I am concerned
with my grandfather's safety."

"Then, think," Ersatz said, kindly. "You are wise. Any such engagement
requires due thought."

I walked away. What was I thinking? I didn't feel the need to train
anyone else, in magic or anything. My last apprentice had become a huge
success, then walked away from it all. like any other teacher, I
couldn't really take credit for all his ac­complishments. I'd just
recognized a talent and set him going on the path he was going to
follow, with or without my help. He just progressed a lot farther and
faster than he would have

alone. Calypsa might need the same kind of steering. She had nerves,
brains and talent, three attributes that would make an excellent
student, regardless of her field of study. Skeeve wasn't the only person
I had ever trained. So, why was I reluc­tant to put someone else in his
place? Not that that had been my intention when I joined up with Tanda
and Calypsa. I had never volunteered to teach the kid anything. My
arrangement with her was strictly business.

It was a subject I really didn't feel like dealing with at the moment.

"We can talk about this on the road," I said, abruptly. "We have three
more treasures to find. Let's get a move on."

"Wait a minute, wait just a minute!" the producer came waddling up to
us. His feet looked sore, which was no sur­prise, since he had been
doing a clog dance all by himself in a corner. "You can't leave! What
about your contract?"

"What about it?" Buirnie asked, blithely. "The contest is over."

The hefty Elban fumbled with a clipboard, then thrust it at us. "Here's
your print," he said, pointing to a round mark in ink on the bottom
line. "You agreed to stay for an entire sea­son!"

"The season's up, my good man," the Flute said. "Isn't that what it
means when you run a contest and declare a win­ner? We have a winner!"

The manager eyed me uneasily. "But we.. .well, we hoped that the winner
would be an Elban."

I shoved up to him. "Are you saying you're prejudiced against Pervects?"

"Well, no...but Buirnie, baby, you can't leave without say­ing goodbye
to your fans! I could have ten thousand of them here by midnight! At ten
gold pieces a ticket...I mean, it's the least you can do, leaving me
with an empty theater for the rest of the year! I mean, how can I find
another musician of your caliber with such short notice? I mean, it's
late, baby! You're not going to start out on a quest at THIS hour, are you?"

The emeralds rolled toward me, then back to the manager, then over to
Calypsa. "Well...one teeny little blowout of a farewell extravaganza
wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"But what about my grandfather!" Calypsa protested.

"One more night in captivity won't be any worse than he's already
suffered, little lady," Buirnie said smoothly. He started oozing gentle
music that wove in and out of our consciousness. "How about it? It'll do
you all some good to get a nice rest overnight here. I know how tired
mortals get after dancing..."

"Do not pay attention to his blandishments," Ersatz said, his voice
piercing the air. I rattled my head, shaking off the spell of the
Flute's voice. "He only seeks to delay for his own ego's sake."

The producer and I exchanged glances. "Why not let him have a curtain
call?" I asked, seeing a few dollar signs of my own in the offing. "You
know the old saying. Always leave 'em wanting more."

The next morning, I was feeling refreshed. The Flute's fame was such
that even though the going away party wasn't an­nounced until evening,
in two hours flat, the place was packed with fans, cheering, weeping,
screaming. Buirnie played a med­ley of his greatest hits, music created
in a few dozen dimen­sions over an equal number of centuries. I could
see why the producer didn't want to let go of such a guaranteed
moneymaker. I had taken him aside and negotiated a cut of the proceeds,
based upon my forbearance in not removing his star from the premises the
moment Buirnie had made his fare­well announcement. The producer wasn't
happy about it, but he coughed up. The small bulge the 'honorarium' made
in my purse didn't come close to the output I had made already on
Calypsa's behalf, but I didn't see any point in having an oppor­tunity
go by. The deal gave me something to enjoy in the party that followed.

The others didn't mind the delay. Kelsa had a ball, so to speak, telling
fortunes all night in the corner. With several

free hours ahead of her, Asti didn't waste a moment talk­ing Buirnie
into lending her his metal-work crew. She went in for the full
treatment. Afterwards, I hardly recognized her. All the dents had been
beaten out of her. Every inch of her had been polished to a blinding
gleam. She was in such a good mood that she woke us all up before dawn
and made espresso for everyone, laced with something that took care of
the hangover I was nursing from drinking a case or two of the cheap red
wine the caterers had supplied. A couple of the stage hands packed up
what was left of the hors d'oeuvres from the canape tables for me. It
was hardly enough for a Pervish-size snack, but it would do until I
found somewhere to get elevenses. The Golden Hoard had been tucked into
their cases. The only thing I needed now was directions.

"All right," I said, clapping my hands together. "Let's get this show on
the road. Where are we going?" I asked Kelsa. "I am only going to ask
that question one time, and one time only, and that's because I am in
such a good mood."

"No problem!" Kelsa assured me. "I will prognosticate... could you pipe
down!"

This was addressed to Buirnie, who was carrying on about something or
other. His entourage was fussing over him so much that I couldn't
understand what he was saying.

"Well, at least let the little lady carry me. She can give Ersatz to one
of the other two," Buirnie suggested.

"Unthinkable!" Ersatz roared.

"I will carry both of you," Calypsa said.

"But we cannot touch one another. I can't stand his ema­nations."

"I don't like your vibes, either," Buirnie said.

"Good," I said, with relief. "She can put one of you on each shoulder.
Let's go."

The Flute let out a warning whistle.

"Not so fast! I can't go without my entourage."

"What?" I asked. "You're out of your mind!"

Buirnie looked indignant. "You're not seriously thinking that I am going
with you tucked in your breast pocket like a fountain pen, do you? I
have luggage! Do you have mules?"

"Nope." I was firm.

"A truck?"

"No."

"How about a wagon train? Eight carts ought to do it."

I folded my arms. "You get one bag for yourself. If you don't want to
share it with anyone, then they'll have to come separately. Calypsa
isn't going to carry anything but you."

"Oh, that's no problem," Buirnie said, his embouchure quirking into a
smile. "Klik!"

Out of the rafters the light came sailing down toward us. "Zildie!"

The snare drum waddled over to us. I could see that it stood on three
feet made of bent wire about half an inch in diameter.

"Let's see...Buffanda, where are you, darling?"

"Coming, Fifie!" a playful voice called from the wings. An animated
polishing cloth flew out and curled itself around the Flute's skinny
body. "The other girls are folding themselves. Give us a moment. Do you
want the brushes, too?"

"Sure!" Buirnie said. "I need to look my best on the road!"

"You are not taking all that with you," Ersatz said.

"Why not?" Buirnie replied. "They're my buds. They help me stay inspired."

'This is not fit. You should be complete in and of your­self."

"Get with the current century, brother! Don't you ever feel like you
want a cheering section? Pepping up?"

"Of course not," Ersatz said. "That would look foolish on the
battlefield! Should you require 'pepping up,' as you call it, ought you
not sing yourself a rousing air and raise your spirits in that fashion?"

"Nope. I prefer applause. There's just something in the sound of hands
clapping that I can't resist. It just feels great."

"Dilettante."

"Bore." "Lightweight."

"Tone-deaf!"

"Loudmouth!"

"Unworthy impostor! The Harp had a far greater heart than you will ever
have!"

"Oh, so that's it!" the Flute exclaimed. "You still think he should be
here, not me! Well, brother, so sorry that I didn't tear myself to
pieces on the battlefield! I've saved plenty of lives in my time, as
well as enriching the culture of dimen­sions I've passed through. I
doubt you could say the same!"

The other two treasures added their own two cents, until all of them
were haranguing one another. The ground started rumbling.

"Aahz," Tananda said, alarmed. "The magik's gathering again."

"Stop it," I ordered them. "Hey! You're going to cause an­other
explosion! STOP IT!!!"

They all looked at me.

"My apologies, good Aahz," Ersatz said. "It has been so long since we
were together that even I forget the disasters that we can cause."

"Good," I said. "Let's get out of here. Exit. Stage left."

Chapter 12

"I KNOW THE Book is not far away," Kelsa said, as we came to a
crossroads. "I can feel it. But he's hedged himself around with spells.
I can't tell you exactly where. He has the wisdom of the ages written in
his pages, and his magik would fool all the sages. Oh, I made a rhyme!"
She giggled insanely. Buirnie played a flourish, accompanied by a roll
from Zildie, the snare drum, to drown her out. He was still sulking
about having to share Calypsa with Ersatz, but since he didn't want to
scare off a potential apprentice, he was annoying on a minor scale, so
to speak.

I let it pass.

I surveyed the terrain. It had plenty of hedges. And bushes. And trees.
Not a lot more. We had been walking more than a day already. According
to the signpost, we were just outside Pikerel, population 80. Pikini,
the dimension we were in, bore no interesting features I could see,
except the locals' skill at brewing beer, which we discovered at a
series of small road­side hostelries, and the Book, which always seemed
to be an­other few hours' walk away. According to Tananda, few power
lines arched overhead, but little technology had evolved in its place.
Hence, the dimension's denizens, the Pikinise, got by on muscle power,
theirs or their beasts of burden. We were disguised as black-furred
Pikinise to avoid trouble.

"Why would a hot magik item hide himself away in a no­where burg like
this?" I asked.

"We all have our tasks, Aahz," Ersatz said, reprovingly. "We do not seek
to place ourselves in the midst of excite­ment. Where we wind up is a
matter of fate."

"Fine. Where exactly did fate drop the Book?" I asked.

"Hmm...I don't believe he is between assignments," Kelsa said. Her eyes
began to bulge and shrink again. "He is out at the end of the...longest
path...nice little place, all modern conve-

niences, four bedrooms, outhouse handy out the back, kitchen, workshop,
dining room, properly taxes for the current year thirty-five gold
pieces, good school but a very long commute..."

/"Where?" /I demanded. "I'm getting tired of guessing."

She blinked at me. "Location IS the most important thing, isn't it?"

I tried again. "What kind of workshop?"

"Mixed use," Kelsa said. "I see leather-working tools, car­pentry tools,
a small forge, some candle molds..."

"Sounds like a boutique in New England," I commented. "Can you steer us
toward it?"

"I can't give you a path to follow. I can only tell you if you're going
hot or cold."

"Fine," I said, in exasperation. "What about this way?"

"Warm," said Kelsa. I turned to my right. "Hot." I stepped out, opening
my stride. The others fell in alongside me. The surface of the road was
pitted and torn up by cart tracks, but it was better than walking along
the sides, which were knee-deep in mud. We stepped up over a hill and
headed toward a solid line of trees.

"Do you mind if I whistle while we walk?" Buirnie asked. "I always feel
it helps to pass the time."

"Keep it down, okay? I don't want to annoy the locals."

"How can you say it will annoy them? I know plenty of Pikinise music.
They'll LOVE it."

"Well, I would appreciate it if you would not sing, Buirnie," Ersatz
said, sounding weary. "We have heard far too much of your voice over the
last several hours, and I for one would prefer the sounds of nature."

"All right, I'll take a vote," the Flute said, imperturbably. "All those
in favor of lovely, wonderful music, a round of ap­plause, please!"

The drum, which waddled behind us on little metal legs, produced a sharp
roll.

"Thank you, thank you! For my first number, I would like to render my
version of the Flight of the Bumblebee, with a

jazz variation that I cooked up for the Crown Prince of

Whelven..."

"Be quiet," Asti snapped.

"But I thought you liked my music!"

"For once I agree with Ersatz," she said. "Give us /all /a rest."

"A quarter rest, a half rest or an eighth rest?" Buirnie asked.

"A /whole /rest," I said. "And I'll tell you when it's over."

Buirnie let out a breathy sigh. "I should have known you weren't music
lovers. Except for Miss Calypsa here. Why are you traveling with such
unappreciative characters, little lady, when you could be traveling with
someone fasci­nating like me?"

"La la la! You sure do love the sound of your own voice," Asti said.

"Well, since you sound like a burp in an air pocket," Buirnie began.

"How did the Golden Hoard get started?" Tananda asked, interrupting the
eternal argument.

"Oh, it is an interesting story," Buirnie said, pleased to be asked a
question. "I wrote a song about it. It has eight thou­sand verses. Would
you like to hear it? It would help to pass the time! You'll like the
chorus. It goes, 'Once upon a time there was a Hoard..."'

"No!" I roared.

Birds and small animals erupted out of the bushes and fled in all
directions.

"My goodness, big fellah, you sure can project when you have to,"
Buirnie said. "I could play some instrumental music, so the little lady
can dance!" His emerald eyes twinkled up at the Walt. She looked like a
shy girl at a dance being annoyed by a couple of nerds. I put my foot down.

"No songs," I said. "No epics. No poems. No katas. No dances."

The Fife pouted. "You're no fun. How about a joke? Hey, Calypsa gal, I
know some jokes about dancers. Guy walks into

a barre, goes up to another guy and says, 'Say, do you dance here
often?' The other guy says, 'No, but my kids plie around here.' Get it?
Barre? Plie?"

Calypsa laughed. "I have not heard that one before."

"Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your
waiter."

"That's how you entertained kings and emperors?" I asked. "I'm not
impressed."

"Perhaps the joke was above your comprehension, Pervect," Buirnie said.
"I'll talk slower next time."

"Perhaps /I /will tell it," Ersatz said. "I can cut things short when
required."

"Bravo, Ersatz!" Buirnie exclaimed. The drum rolled a rim-shot. "You're
a laugh a minute! Not!"

"Did I say something funny?" the sword asked.

"Didn't you say it on purpose?" Buirnie asked. "Cut? Short? Get it? He's
got no sense of humor."

"The Hoard," Ersatz said, raising his voice over the so­prano pipe of
the Fife, "formed almost by accident. It hap­pened in the great
dimension of Valhal."

"Valhal?" I asked. I searched my memory. "Never heard of it."

Ersatz let out a singing noise like a sigh. "Not surprising, for it is
no more. I will tell you what came to pass. Thousands of years ago,
there was a terrible war between four factions, the nations of Thorness,
Odinsk, Freyaburg and Heimdale, each led by rulers who were eager to
capture the whole of a most fertile and rich continent."

"It's starting to sound familiar," I said.

"They were famous in their day. Naturally, they have since passed into
legend. Four armies, each legends of power and prowess, each carrying
one of us."

"Not me, of course," Kelsa said. "I wasn't there. Yet."

"Nay," Ersatz said. "It was I and Asti, Chin-Hwag and Pilius, the Great
Spear. Each of us was at the height of our powers. I had been brought to
Valhal in that very year by a

traveling Deveel salesman whom the Emperor of Thorness chose to arm him
for the coming battle. The armies met on the field of honor. They
battled one another bravely, using our abilities and talents, as well as
those of mere spear-carriers..."

"You should excuse the expression," Kelsa added. "There was only one
spear who /really /mattered."

"...The mortal soldiers," Ersatz continued, with a long-suffering glance
at her. "Yet, they came to a standstill, all four facing one another
over a square portion of territory that came to be known as
"No-Val's-Land." None could penetrate the others' lines. When sally
after sally produced no movement, it behooved our leaders to attempt to
end the war through nego­tiation. Such was my counsel, at any rate."

"Mine, too," Asti said. "I was getting tired of healing sword slashes
and mace blows, and all for nothing!"

I nodded. "Stands to reason. That's what I would do."

"Aye. It was a demonstration of the greatest futility of war, the
slaying of pawns, yet not gaining another inch for all the pain. They
came to a halt around a small vale, where lay a vaulted hall, long
abandoned, but still large enough for the four leaders and their
advisors to use as a meeting place. It was a historical moment when we
were all brought together by the four leaders as they attempted to
hammer out a peace accord. Beer flowed freely. In fact, we were all
inundated in it!"

"It was my best beer," Asti sighed. "A very special recipe I came up
with for the occasion."

"Sounds like a great party," I said.

"In the presence of that catalyst, we felt ourselves changed. Our auras
overlapped, and an alteration came to pass."

"I've been at parties like that," Tananda said, with a remi­niscent smile.

"That is not what I meant," Ersatz said sternly.

"That's what YOU think."

"We had become sentient, and aware of the others. We were greater than
our creators had made us. We had purpose.

That which was lacking in each of us had been awakened by the others."

"Sounds like some kind of mutual admiration society," I said.

"Not really," Asti said. "All I knew was I was no longer the only magik
item. I was used to sharing, but not the attention paid to me. I didn't
like it."

Ersatz eyed her. "None of us did. We were accustomed to being
individuals. Yet there was no denying that we were equals, each with
superior skills that the others could not duplicate. Perforce, we came
to a mutual respect. When the room filled with our power, all the
mortals presence realized they were in the presence of greatness, yet
they knew not the source. The Wizard Looki discovered that it was we who
were the fount of it, decided to pool together their resources to make
one nation greater than any that had come before it, and stave off the
barbarian hordes that nibbled at the boundaries of the lands. We made a
vow among ourselves, the immortals among the temporal ephemerae, to
fight thereafter for those who were in true need of our services."

"The /really /epic battles that needed to be won," Asti said. "Not these
petty border skirmishes, fighting for an inch or two of land, or the
hand of a wench. Just those that would end oppression, free the enslaved
and preserve the environment."

"That is so heroic of you!" Calypsa said, clasping her feath­ered hands
in admiration. Ersatz looked pleased.

"Aye. Since we refused our services to settle petty border disputes, nor
would raise shield against one another..."

"So to speak," Asti added.

".. .the masters of the realm were forced to employ diplo­macy. When we
did step in, all could tell that the matter was serious. Our reputations
alone caused many an uprising to be quelled on the rumor of our
involvement, so less blood was shed than ever before. Peace reigned. The
four rulers sat side by side on thrones in a grand palace constructed on
the site of the vaulted hall. It was a golden time," Ersatz added, with
a sigh. "We enjoyed a truly pleasing life for a time. We were

much celebrated for our wisdom and generosity. A grand Trea­sury was
constructed to hold us, where we could be consulted by the high and low
alike. We posed for an artist, who created decks of cards bearing our
likenesses, the Taro, because the cards themselves were made of the
fiber of that ubiquitous root. Four suits, for we four treasures. They
were used for divi­nation as well as gambling, the first pasteboard oracle."

"I've seen those," Tananda said. "But I thought that the fourth suit
consisted of coins. Shouldn't it be a picture of the Purse?"

Ersatz and Asti exchanged glances. The Cup /hemmed, /a little uneasily.

"Well, when you meet her you'll see that Chin-Hwag isn't very..."

"Photogenic," Kelsa supplied. "They won't say it, but I will. She's
ugly. Talented, but ugly. It doesn't matter! It's what's inside that
counts. That's what I always say!"

"As long as what's inside is gold coins, I don't care what she looks
like," I said.

"Those were the very words of King Brotmo," Ersatz said. "He whose realm
Odinsk stood to the north of Thorness. He bore the great spear into
battle. His people were very poor, so the wealth given to them by
Chin-Hwag by the grace of the Lords of Freyaburg eased the poverty
there. He bore the great spear into battle against the Wlaflings, the
wolf-kind who poured out of the hills and harried the Thornessians.
Every­one helped one another.

"But Valhal was not content to be the home of only four treasures of
renown. The four rulers sought to set themselves apart from the others.
First there was the escalation of thrones. All the leaders tried to have
the highest. It only ceased when the Lady of Heimdale actually fell out
of hers and plunged sixty feet to her death."

"Hard luck," I said.

Ersatz grunted. "Hard, indeed, especially the landing. Then the richness
of regalia. Then the size of retinue. Short-

ages of space and resources became the cause for much in­fighting, and
rules had to be reestablished as to how many attendants each monarch may
have when he or she was in council with the other three. So, each
secretly sent out mes­sengers to attempt to find another epic treasure
to add to the Hoard, who would wield more power in his or her name.

"More and more treasures were brought in. As soon as these came in
contact with us, they awoke to knowledge of their power. Some of them we
accepted into the Hoard. Others were not worthy to be in our company. In
the end, only twelve of us were of sufficient quality. Much jeal­ousy
arose, as is to be expected, but we had to have stan­dards of
excellence. No one may rest upon his reputation alone, though as you may
judge, good Aahz, it helps to stave off futile exercises if one's
opponent is in awe of what he has heard."

"True," I said. "In our organization, M.Y.T.H., Inc., we had standards
like that. It helps if there's general agreement that everyone who is
there belongs there."

"Oh?" Asti asked. "So you /had /a fellowship. Not with this child,
surely, but with the green wench. I can tell that you two know one
another well. You do not always communicate with words."

"Yeah, we had an association," I said. "It was a damned fine one, too.
When we had to, we could kick epic butt."

"Aye, mortals often believe that they can achieve frater­nity as we
did," Ersatz said, with a nostalgic sigh. "It was such a friendship as
has never been seen in any time before or since. We were truly happy in
one another's company. You don't know what it is like to be part of a
group, each expert in its own field, respectful of one another's
talents, able to defeat all com­ers, always knowing that one's back is
defended as well as if one had been multiplied into an army."

"Sure, I do," I said. "Why, in M.Y.T.H...."

"Oh, there's no mortal equivalent," Buirnie interrupted, dismissively.
"Never has been, never could be. You couldn't

possibly know what it is to be a member of a fellowship like ours. It
was unique!"

"What the hell do you know about it?" I demanded. I was beginning to get
an inferiority complex from the constant ham­mering from the eternal
treasures of the Hoard. As if I didn't know what a fellowship was!

"Nor would your petty band have taken on missions that would change the
future of an entire race," Asti said.

I am a patient man, but I was beginning to lose my temper.
"You're out of your mind, sister. I'd have staked M.Y.T.H.,
Inc. against any bunch of adventurers in the land, mercenar­
ies, legendary heroes, mortal or immortal—whatever you had,
we had it better. What we do... /did /was vital! I remember a
time when our gang teamed up to put an end to the gang war
that was brewing in the Bazaar "

"Perhaps it was important as you mortals count it," Kelsa said, blinking
at me. "But it wasn't important on a cosmic level, as our adventures
were, dear."

"In your humble opinion," I snapped.

"I only tell the truth! I know all, see all!"

"Blow all," I said. "You're so terrific that you end up in flea markets
and fortune teller's parlors. That's where the great Golden Hoard has
gotten to, right?"

"Good Aahz, we have offended you," Ersatz said, apolo­getically.
"Perhaps I will cease my narration. I have carried on nearly as long as
that penny whistle over there."

"Hey, who are you calling a penny whistle?" Buirnie said. "I've never
charged a penny for my music in my life! I do it all for love."

"No," Tananda said. "You're not offending us at all, Er­satz." She shot
a reproving look at me, and drew a long finger down the blade. "I want
to hear the rest. You're /so /good at telling stories."

Ersatz's eyes closed. He almost seemed to be purring. "You have your own
magik, mistress, surely."

"Go on," she said, in a caressing voice. "So, how did you end up in the
flea market?"

"Alas," Ersatz sighed. "Change of fortune, and change again. Ah, me,
those were the days. While we were in Valhal, peace existed between us
all. There is not much more to tell. Sadly, our Utopia was all
temporary. So many of us could not exist in one another's company. Each
of us must be supreme. The power we generated together began to build
up. The first explosion destroyed the treasury, but left us all unscathed.

"Not the Drum, dear," Kelsa said. "His head was torn right across."

"But his frame remained sound. Heads are easily replaced. It was
determined that we should be divided before we frac­tured the realm once
again. The warning came too late. They had brought too many of us
together. We began to argue about the best way to safeguard our realm.
We could not agree. The power built and built. Looki, always a most
observant man, attempted to warn the leaders of the four realms to
depart before a disaster came. They wouldn't listen. None would de­part
and leave the field to the others, or so they perceived. Such thinking
proved to be catastrophic."

"The explosion, when it came, blew up the entire dimen­sion of Valhal,"
Asti said. "It killed everyone, and scattered us all to the four winds.
We turned up in some of the most unex­pected places. When the dust
settled, I was in a housewares display in a department store in Imper."

"I was the aggie in a game of marbles on Titania," Kelsa said. "Most
exciting!"

"I blew right into the hands of a jazz musician in Nola," Buirnie said.
"My first taste of stardom!"

"And I was cutting salamis in Trollia," Ersatz said, heavily. "I have
sought for traces of our long-ago home, but it seems to have been
severed from the dimensions, if it exists at all."

"Well, we were better than that," I said smugly. "I mean, we never blew
up a whole dimension."

"If you are so superior," Asti said, "then why are you not
together any longer?"

Ersatz answered before /I /could blow up.

"It seems that there are flaws in all of us. Since then, I have put
myself into the hands of those who are about to fight epic battles. How
about your fellowship?

"I don't want to talk about it," I said. "It's gone now. Maybe good
things aren't meant to last forever."

"Nonsense," Asti said. "Look at us! We ARE meant to last forever.
Durable, that's the way it ought to be. We seldom come together, but we
are never really apart."

I felt a pang. I resented it.

"I don't believe that is to what he refers, Asti," Ersatz said, sternly.

"How do /you /know what he is talking about? Your authoritarianism just
twists my stem sometimes," the Cup said, rolling her rubies scornfully.

"He and his companions /may /have aspired to such a fel­lowship as ours."

"Oh, /please, /don't try to convince me he is anything but a greedy
egotist."

"All right," I snarled, "I won't."

"I wrote a song about us," Buirnie said, interrupting the argument with
one final attempt either to make peace or show off, I wasn't sure which.
"Now that you know the backstory, it will be much more interesting.
'Once upon a time there was a Hoard..."'

"NO!" I bellowed. The ground almost shook at the sound of my voice.
Buirnie looked taken aback.

"A simple 'thanks but no thanks' would have done the trick," he said,
reproachfully.

"I know your company must have been special to you," Calypsa said. "But
Ersatz has lived so many thousands of years, and done so many important
things. I know you must feel small next to the Hoard. I know that I do."

"Child, never lose your sense of self worth," the Sword said, kindly.
"Your adventure is just beginning. Someday you will realize that meeting
us is the most important thing that will ever happen to you."

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. I realized I was never going to
be able to convince them of the quality of what I'd had and lost.
Tananda gave me a sympathetic look and a gesture to let it go. Well, if
she could, I could. Let it never be said that I let my memories affect
my mood.

"Look," I said. "There's someone we can ask for directions."

Chapter 13

THE BLEAK, OPEN landscape let us spot the carter more than half an hour
before we reached him. The black-furred Pikinise studied us curiously
but with no fear. He stopped his cart as I called out a greeting, and
leaned his elbow onto his homespun-clad knee.

"Heading for Pikerel?" I asked, trying not to show the im­patience that
I felt.

"About," he replied. "Come from there?"

That was a safe bet, since the road we were standing on led directly
back to the small hamlet.

"Yeah," I said shortly. "I wonder if you can help us. We're looking for
someone."

"And you found him," the carter said, leaning back and looking pleased.

"Not you."

"Well, then, you ain't found him yet," the carter opined. I reached up
and took him by the bib of his overalls.

"I've been walking for two days, and I'm not in the mood for yokel humor."

The Pikinise brushed my hands away and sat back.

'There's no need to get ugly," he said. "I thought it'd make you happy
to get done what you're aimin' to do. Who you lookin' for?"

"He's right, friend Aahz," Ersatz said. "Perhaps if you'd been more
specific..."

"Shut up," I said. "I don't do everything perfect like you four." I
turned back to the local. "I'm trying to find a guy who lives out in
this direction. He lives out in the middle of no­where. He studies all
the time. He's got books."

In no hurry, the carter scratched at the fur on his shoulder with a
meditative hand.

"Seems to me," he said, "you might want one of the folks who lives out
on the wild heath. The happy floormaker is

somewhere out there. Very artistic fellah. He searches the mud puddles
and hollows of the marshes and fields for found ma­terials and clay and
just other little mineral treasures to make the blocks and artistic
mosaics that he takes such joy in. He takes folks in who just want a
quiet place to stay. That's his territory." The carter waved a hand out
vaguely behind him.

"I see," I observed, "so that's the Merry Tiler Moor."

I looked at the man for applause. I shouldn't have both­ered. I had
never seen such a blank look in my life.

"Wai, you might phrase it that way, stranger. Follow the wild beast
trails. Ain't no road to his place. Good luck."

"What did he say?" Calypsa demanded, following closely on my heels as I
looked for another person to ask for direc­tions. "And what did you say
before that? Why did he look so puzzled?"

"All right," I said, rounding on her. "This is turning into a regular
liability. I can disguise you as a local. I can guide you through a
hundred dimensions and locate the treasures of the ages, but I don't
have time to give you language lessons! If you don't understand
something, stow it. I'll tell you if it's important. I've got enough
problems to concentrate on."

The Walt quailed. "I am sorry, Aahz, but I only wish to know what is
going on so I can help..."

"Well, you're /not /helping," I said. "Just shut up. I'll tell you when
there's something you really need to know."

"Isn't that just a typical Pervect?" Asti said, through the leather of
her case. "Temper, temper, temper, and never a thought for anyone else's
feelings."

I rattled her case. "The 'shut up' goes for you, too, sister. You're
always riding me, and I don't deserve all the abuse you are handing out.
I'm doing what I can. Sorry if I would rather accomplish her mission
than provide the Cook's tour to di­mensions we're passing through."

"I know all tongues from the lands through which I have passed in my
years," Ersatz said. "I would be pleased to help Calypsa with
interpretation."

"But you might not be with her everywhere she goes," Kelsa said. In her
depths was a picture of Calypsa passing through a door with the outline
of a woman on it.

"Oh, I can fix her," Asti said. "Take me out of here, Pervect. I don't
like messing up my case." As soon as she was clear of her carrier, her
bowl filled up with a bright green liq­uid. "Drink this, child. All of it."

Calypsa looked nervous. "What will it do to me?"

"Do? It'll make you the superior of these two in languages. You will
understand all tongues, of every creature that walks the dimensions."

"Dial that back," I said. "If she starts talking to fish and trees,
someone's going to think she's insane."

"Why not?" Asti said. "You talk to goblets and swords. Go on, Calypsa."

The Walt lifted the goblet in quaking hands. With a ner­vous glance at
Tananda and me, she dipped her beak in the liquid, and tilted her head
back so it ran down her throat. She coughed violently.

"Ugh! It is disgusting!"

"I didn't say it wouldn't be," Asti said. "You are tasting the tongues
of a thousand dimensions. Of course there's bound to be a little
halitosis here and there."

Calypsa held the goblet away from her. "Tongues!" She looked as though
she was going to be sick.

"Drink it anyhow, child. Pinch your nose...ah, you don't have one.
Pretend it's medicine. It is, in a way. It will cure you of
non-understanding."

"Drink it, dear," Kelsa said. "Then you will be able to un­derstand what
Aahz has been muttering about you beneath his breath."

"He is /what?" /The Walt looked at me accusingly. She seized the Cup in
both hands and bent her beak to the foaming liquid.

"What muttering?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Dear me, did I say that out loud?" Kelsa asked, but the eyes behind her
glasses twinkled.

"Drink, drink, drink, Arvernians..." Buirnie burst into song. "Come on,
Calypsa! Don't think, just drink!"

"Chug, chug, chug, chug!" Ersatz chanted. Calypsa made a face, but went
for a second mouthful.

It took a lot of encouragement, and more bobbing and tilting, but pretty
soon the goblet was empty. It fell from Calypsa's nerveless hands. I
just barely caught Asti before she hit the ground. Tananda caught Calypsa.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"That was horrible," Calypsa said. She looked shaken. Her normally
high-pitched voice wandered all over the octaves. "I feel funny."

Tananda and I grinned at each other.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked.

"You just said that in perfect Troll," I said.

"I don't speak Troll!"

"You do now," I said. "And Pervect. Now, come on, we've got ground to
cover."

Tananda entertained herself for a while trying out Calypsa's new talent
by talking to her in languages she had picked up over the years. I tuned
them all out. I preferred to be alone with my thoughts. I was envious
that the Hoard had given Calypsa a great gift like that, when I'd had to
pick up my flu­ency the hard way. Still, I had to agree that we really
didn't have the time for her to learn anything, and it was a pain
trans­lating everything we heard, then explaining the cultural
refer­ences that went with them. This girl was so-oo-oo young. I knew I
had never been that green. So to speak. No one I knew ever was.. .no,
that's not true. I was pretty sure that Asti would give both me and
Tananda the potion, too, if we asked, but I would rather have my scales
peeled off with a paint scraper than ask. She already had the wrong
impression about my sense of fairness regarding compensation, and I was
not going to give her more ammunition. I already was tired of listening
to the litany of my shortcomings, in her immortal opinion.

"Hot," Kelsa said, as we came to a crossroads.

"Which way?" I asked.

"Left, I think. It's a pity we are looking for the Book in­stead of
traveling with him, because he has all the addresses in the world in his
index. Absolutely anyone who's anyone! Of course, we don't know the name
of the person with whom he is staying.. .it's such a muddle. The being's
head is just full of names, I can't pick out his own!"

Tuning out the babble, I turned left. "Still hot?"

"Yes! Hot."

I strode along the narrow path behind Tananda. It was just a track that
local ruminants must have made. My feet slipped on the ground. The mud
was compacted to a rubbery surface with just enough dew on the surface
to make it slick going. I kept my eyes just ahead of my feet to keep
from tripping on exposed roots.

"...Hot...hot...hot...cold!"

"Cold? I thought you said it was hot!" Tananda said.

"Well, it will be cold, if you go through that bush just ahead," Kelsa
said, blinking up at her, transformed into a very sexy Trollop with
diamond-studded spectacles. "The bridge is out."

"Say, I know a song about a bridge!" Buirnie volunteered. "It's a tragic
dirge. You'll love it. It's just the kind of thing to make our hike go
faster."

I ignored him.

"This way," I said, as we crested yet another muddy hummock, early on
the third day of our trek. "I hear hammering."

"Well done, Aahz!" Kelsa crowed. "Yes, I was just going to say...There
it is. Off to the right, just past that stand of hawberry trees."

I led the way. As we got closer, the mud-colored building on the other
side of the copse started to take shape. One fat oval story sat on top
of a lower level that spread out in all directions, looking as if it had
been built up over centuries. As an inhabitant decided he needed another
room, he just broke a

hole in the wall and built alongside it. Smoke was coming from several
of the dozens of chimneys sticking up from the tiled roof. We halted
about ten yards away.

"Turn off the music," I told Buirnie. "This has to be the place."

"Oh, thank the Choreographers!" Calypsa exclaimed. She headed for the
front door.

I pulled her back.

"Not so fast! What do you think you're doing?" ;i

"Going inside?" Calypsa said. She looked from one to the other of us,
puzzled. "Or should we not use the door?"

"It might not be as easy as it looks," I said.

"Well, of course it is," she said, eyes wide. "You lift the latch, then
push it open...what am I missing?"

I groaned. She was SO young.

"Guile," Ersatz said. "Dear child, this is an extremely iso­lated
location. If you lived here, away from aid, would you not have concerns
for your safety from passersby? You would set up some manner of defense."

Calypsa looked abashed. "I've always lived in the village," she said.

"Houses about ten feet apart, right?" I said. She nodded. "When the
neighbor has Limburger, you hold your nose?"

"What's Limburger?

"Forget it," I snapped. "Kelsa, is this place booby-trapped?"

"No, it's not, but there's one detail that might be of inter­est to you,
not that /all /the details of this quest aren't /interesting, /they'll
make good telling in the saga that Buirnie is going to write one day,
but..."

"I am?" the Flute asked brightly. "Wow! Will it become world famous?"

"Of course, dear," Kelsa said. "Don't all of your songs? But, Aahz..."

"Can it. Tanda, let's look like the locals. I don't want to spook this
guy. I just want to be one of the brotherhood. Savvy?"

"One disguise spell, coming up," Tananda said, closing her eyes to
concentrate.

"Amazing!" Calypsa said, as soon as the spell took effect. She had been
transformed into a slender, black-furred beauty, if you could call the
locals beautiful. "You are even more ugly than usual!"

"Thanks a heap," I grunted.

Ersatz had said that Payge was a completely interactive grimoire, so the
chances were that we were dealing with a magician of some kind. Tanda
made me into a fellow master magician of the local species, formidable
yet approachable. I'd suggest a trade, or barring that, a contest to win
the Book from him. I was prepared to cheat my way to success under any
circumstances. She and Calypsa were dressed as a couple of attractive
acolytes carrying my magikal impedimenta, namely the Golden Hoard. I
hoped that we could make some sort of peaceful arrangement. We had
little more than a week left, and Calypsa was getting antsier by the day.

I rapped on the door with a stick I had picked up from the woodpile, now
doing double-duty as a wizard's staff.

"Anyone home?" I asked.

No answer. I realized the door was ajar. That was never a good sign.
That could mean anything from a bucket of water to a thermonuclear
grenade armed to go off when we passed over the threshold.

"Oh, Aahz," Kelsa said. "One thing you really should know..."

"Not now," I said. "Stand back."

I stepped around to one side of the frame, and shoved the door open with
the end of my staff. The hinges protested like a dozen banshees with
hangovers, and the door slammed against the inner wall.

Tortured souls poured out of the house in a cloud of char­treuse smoke.
They screamed woe and sorrow, pointing bony fingers at us. Their empty
eye sockets gleamed red as they swooped down at us. Mouths opened on
multiple sets of fangs.

Calypsa screamed. I grabbed her hand and towed her behind me, her toes
scraping the ground. As soon as she got her wits moving, she shook loose
from my grip, and took off ahead of us like an Olympic sprinter. Tananda
wasn't too far behind her. That left me in the rear. The ghouls flowed
after me in a wave. I kept glancing back at them over my shoulder. What
could I do? I didn't have any magik to dispell them. They were catching
up. The ghouls grinned. Their claws were inches from scalp. They could
tear me apart. I put on a burst of speed.

The going on the marshy path was heavy. I felt something grab my foot. I
saw the root as I went flying. I rolled over, claws and teeth pointing
upward, ready to fight to the death.

The cloud of ghouls kept flowing past me, wailing and screaming. They
paid no attention to me. Within a few yards, they dissipated into a haze
of burnt yellow smoke.

"Party howlers," I said, with disgust. I got to my feet and brushed
myself off. "Pretty tasteless color combination, too."

"That was one undignified sprawl," Asti observed, from her case. I
retrieved her from where she'd fallen in a swampy pool at the path's
edge. "Ugh! And all over my nice leather, too. Make sure you get all the
dirt off, Pervect. I can't believe you fell for that!"

"Zip it," I told her. I started trudging toward where the rest of my
party had disappeared.

At that moment, Tananda came rushing back over the crest of the hill,
knives drawn in each hand. I suspected, but couldn't see, that at least
one of them was enchanted against magikal attack. Behind her, Calypsa
came up holding Ersatz, drawn, in both hands. They saw me standing
there, unhurt but muddy. I waved a hand.

"I appreciate the effort," I said. "It was nothing. Party fa­vors. Our
friend in there has a sense of humor. I'll remember that when we
negotiate with him." I bent down to peer eye to eye with Kelsa. "I
thought you said the house wasn't booby-trapped. I could have broken my
neck trying to get away from those cartoon ghosts!"

"Oh, well, I'd put that little outburst in the same category with
practical jokes," she said. "Booby-traps are usually meant to be fatal,
you see. At least, that is my understanding..."

"Never mind," I said, cutting her off. "Come on. If that's the worst
he's going to throw at unexpected visitors, then he's a pushover. Let's
get the book and get out of here."

I retrieved my staff from where I had thrown it, and poked it in the
front door. I waggled it around, checking for electric eyes, tripwires,
or deadfalls. Nothing else happened. Cautiously, I peered around the
doorpost. The front room was empty.

I went in for a closer look. The room seemed to have been abandoned
recently. I could see dust on the floor that outlined a bedstead, a
chest, and four small squares which were prob­ably the feet of a table.
Similar lines on the shelves built into the wall suggested the room's
owner had had a substantial library, which had also gone. A handful of
papers were scat­tered on the floor. I picked one up. It was a past due
bill from a stationer's store.

BANG! A smashing sound somewhere in the house grabbed my attention. It
was followed by a string of colorful phrases, none of which I could
really call invective, but still showed some imagination in expressing
frustration. I wondered if our quarry hadn't quite made good on his
getaway. I signed to Tananda to go out and around. We could catch him in
a pincer movement, unless he dimension-hopped away from us. Tanda nodded
to me, and ducked out of the door.

"Anyone home?" I called.

"Back here!" a hearty voice shouted back.

"Let me do the talking," I said, pushing ahead.

With me in the lead, Calypsa and I sidled through the over­grown
cottage. It had been divided a few rooms at a time into several living
spaces, each decorated in very different tastes. After the empty front
quarters lay the diggings of a herbalist who slept in her shop and had
entertaining taste in undergar­ments, several of which were drying on
racks alongside snozzwort and hipporemus root. Beyond that was a small room

used by a student of mathematics, to judge from the formulae scrawled in
chalk on the walls and floor around the shabby rope bed. The slamming
and thumping noises came from the next set of rooms, where a brawny male
in an apron was smack­ing dusty forms down on a broad wooden worktable.

He looked up with a grin that shrank just a little when he saw the
formidable shape I was wearing. This was the happy tiler. Then his
native optimism took over, and he came around to greet me. Tananda
appeared behind him, and shrugged.

"Hail, friend!" he said. "What can I do for you?"

"I seek a great treasure," I said.

"Well, I've got a bunch of them here you might like," the tiler said,
pleasantly. "Just finished a batch of Flornezian in­terlocks with real
gold in the glaze. Nice enough for an audi­ence chamber, if that be what
you're interested in. I can give you very attractive terms on financing..."

"No, it's a book we want," Calypsa said. "We're looking for a big book.
With a gold cover. Maybe some jewels embed­ded in it. And I think it talks."

"Ah!" the Pikinise said, rocking back on his heels. "You're looking for
the wizard Froome, then."

"Is he here?" I asked, after giving Calypsa an exasperated look.

"Sorry, no," he said. Since we weren't customers, he went back to
loosening his wares from the frames in which they had hardened. "He came
through here with that big book of his, muttering, 'they're here.' Must
be you he meant."

"And where did he go?" I asked.

"Ah, couldn't tell you that," the tiler said, with a grin. "He just
disappeared. Right there," he gestured with a table scraper, "Like
magik, it was."

"Why didn't you tell me the Book was gone?" I snarled at the Crystal
Ball, as I stalked out of the cottage.

'Well, I did try to," Kelsa simpered up at me. "You told me to be quiet.
Now, I do try to comply with your wishes—that's a measure of my growing
regard for you, dear—but..."

"But?" I interrupted again.

"Well, it just happened! That moment! Just before we went inside. He
must have been reading about our progress in the Book. Payge does keep
up on current events, you know"

I groaned and rolled my eyes. "So this whole three-day trek was pointless!"

"Three days of my grandfather's incarceration?" Calypsa echoed.

Kelsa blinked, transforming from Pervect to Walt and back again.

"Oh, not at all! He wouldn't have gone away if we hadn't come here. The
thing to do is go where he has gone now."

"And where is that?" I asked, through clenched teeth.

She brightened, literally, glowing like a beer sign. "Vaygus!"

Chapter 14

"STICK WITH ME!" Buirnie exclaimed, as we made our way down the teeming
streets. Customers from every race in ev­ery dimension walked in and out
of the brightly-colored build­ings. Many of them had that world-weary
look of the hardcore gambler, but most of them wore a look of open
astonish­ment at the attractions on offer: dancers, gambling, stage show
extravaganzas, you name it. It was like a Bazaar for the entertainment
industry. It was night in Vaygus, but, then, it had always seemed to be
night when I had visited there in the past. Flick, the Flute's
spotlight, turned an actinic glare on us that lit us better than the
road under our feet. I kept bumping into people who were blinded by the
light. "I know this place like the back of my hand." Zildie, the snare
drum, rolled out a rim shot.

"You don't have any hands," Calypsa said, looking con­fused. Ersatz was
on her back with a cloth hiding everything except his eyes. The local
laws against carrying weapons, es­pecially potent magikal ones, were
pretty strict, as they would be anywhere there was a lot of money
changing hands. I fig­ured we wouldn't be stopped. Law enforcement
always had too much to do around here with real crime, as drunks
stag­gered out of the hotels with money from the tables. In any case, he
was wearing a disguise spell that made him look like a set of
glitter-covered twirling batons. Nobody would steal those. The other
Hoard members were similarly disguised, except Buirnie. I figured there
was no harm in carrying a musical instrument. In any case, there was no
way to dis­guise his entourage.

"Well, if I had a hand, I'd know it as well as I know Vaygus," the Flute
confided. "Look around you! It's a wonder of magik and technology! I had
a theater here for ten years, right up the street, over there. Full
orchestra, show girls, the works!"

"Seems like a great life," Tananda said. "Why'd you give it up?"

"Well, a war started, the One-Armed Bandits versus the Crap-Shooters. It
got ugly, I can tell you! The Bandits enlisted me on their side. I
thought they fought a little cleaner. I wrote them some pretty terrific
war music! It was a lengthy battle. We practically lost our sponsors, it
took so long. At least twelve seasons, with summer reruns. We won, of
course, and peace was restored, but there was terrible damage. The Strip
was stripped bare, not that stripping doesn't still go on." The
em­eralds rolled from side to side roguishly. Tananda laughed. Calypsa
just looked confused, as usual.

We strode down the broad avenue. According to Kelsa's directions, we
were looking for the lion's Head Casino. I was in a bad mood. This
wizard Froome obviously didn't want to let go of his Hoard treasure, and
who could blame him? I don't know why I didn't just blow out of there.
It was a nice evening. You could hear the ka-ching! of the gambling
machines over the cacophony of voices and music. I liked visiting Vaygus
once in a while. The brilliant orange bulk of the Fountainshow Casino,
ablaze in its own spotlights, lay just across the street. I could go in
there, ask the maitre d' for my usual table next to the stage in the
Gambler's Theater, and lay back. Hot-and-cold running babes danced by in
skimpy outfits, and the drinks were served in Pervect-sized containers,
as long as you kept on rolling the dice. I could almost feel the stack
of chips in my hand. I bet that Barrik would be happy with the four we
had. He probably doubted that Calypsa would ever come back with one, let
alone within the deadline. But, no, we have to chase a recalcitrant
wizard toting an oversized gazetteer through the Million Gambler March.

"How do we keep Froome from blowing out of town be­fore we catch up with
him again?" I asked Kelsa.

"At the moment he doesn't know that we're here," Kelsa said, beaming up
at me from Tananda's shoulder bag. She'd been disguised as a large
goldfish in a bowl, but nothing could conceal the diamante glasses.
"He's very relieved to have

gotten away before our arrival. My goodness, I love doing these
up-to-the-minute bulletins!"

"Well, look a little further ahead," I said. "I want to know where we
get the Book, not just what he is thinking at this moment. Use your talent."

"I predict..." the eyes swam in the depths of the glossy orb. "I predict
that he will not be able to escape you once you are...surrounded
by...his kind..." She blinked, and her face came back into focus. "Did I
say anything interesting?"

"His kind?" Tananda asked. "Are there any other Pikinise here?"

"Oh, of course! There's Malkin, from Brumtown, and the entire Skruse
family..."

"Not that kind," I said, snapping my fingers. "He's at the Magicians' Club."

"Why there?" Tanda asked.

"Where else? It's the one place where nobody will ask awk­ward
questions. He's hauling a huge book with a solid gold cover. This city
is full of pickpockets and muggers. There's security out the wazoo
inside the casinos, but anything that happens outside is no one's
business. Nobody wants to know if you got rolled or mugged or grifted.
It's bad for publicity. Whatever happens to you in Vaygus will be
disavowed by the secretary, the mayor, the police and the press. The
club the perfect place where a big-time magik item like the Book will be
safe."

"That sounds like sense, good Aahz," Ersatz said.

Even Asti couldn't find anything sarcastic to say. I smirked.

"Of course it does. Let's go."

I felt smug as I headed down the strip with the others in my wake. It
felt good to be in charge again.

"Are you sure you don't want a guided tour while you're here?" Buirnie
piped up, desperate to regain leadership of the group. "I know
absolutely everyone! I can get us in backstage to all the shows! The
city council owes me a bunch of favors for writing theme songs for their
advertisements."

"Maybe another time," I said, pulling a step or two ahead of Calypsa to
get away from his voice. "In case you have for­gotten, we're on a time
limit."

"You are useless here, Buirnie," Ersatz said. "As you are everywhere."

"Me?" the Flute squealed, making everyone within fifteen feet clap their
hands to their ears. "What about a sword? How many showgirls and
gamblers do you think we will need to slay in pursuit of the wizard who
has Payge?"

"Don't waste your time," Asti said. She looked like a tin camping
canteen in a canvas case, nothing worth stealing, a lowly disguise that
made her cranky. "Let the mortal try and earn his keep. He's done little
enough so far."

I shook her container. "Listen, sister, I'd trade you in for a leaky
bucket if the kid here didn't want to keep you. In fact, I might just
sling you out in the desert for a while. Let a bunch of thirsty camels
play kick the can with you."

"You wouldn't!"

"He might," Tananda said sweetly, with a wink at me. "You know what
Pervects are like."

"Perverts!" Asti exclaimed in alarm.

Calypsa looked from the Sword to the Cup. "I think Aahz and Tananda are
doing a fine job," she said. "I would never have found all of you
without them. Especially not so swiftly. You must have served with some
very impressive heroes if everyone was able to do things more
efficiently than they!"

I preened. "All in a day's work, kid," I said. Maybe I was teaching her
something after all, in spite of my refusal to un­dertake her formal
education. At least she appreciated me.

I strode on with a spring in my step.

"Hmmph!" the Goblet snorted. "Laying balm on wounded nerves is usually
my task."

The Magicians' Club didn't advertise its presence. By their nature, the
shows in Vaygus used a lot of magikal practitio-ners, everything from
illusionists to major transformers, using

every gizmo from trick cabinets up to complex special ef­fects that
would make motion picture producers wet them­selves in envy. It was a
great place to kick back in between shows and complain about the casino
bosses and the cus­tomers, without a chance that anything one said would
ever be heard by another living creature. The place was shielded with
some of the most sophisticated spells out there, plus a few guardian
critters like dragons and weresnakes that had a taste for trespassers.

I had joined the club on my first visit, years ago when I was fresh out
of school. I had a membership card and a signet ring, neither of them
with me, and I'd sworn the oath of se­crecy which said, among other
things, that we were never to reveal the secrets of our brother and
sister magicians. That promise often concealed the fact that half the
magikal work­ings in Vaygus weren't magik at all, but complex technical
ef­fects that a Klahd could do with one finger up his nose and the other
on a button. The best thing about the club was the pro­fessional
seminars. Presentation was everything, so they taught a lot about
showmanship. I'd done a series of lectures myself here, years back. I
knew the other guys would be glad to see me. They ought to help me deal
with our runaway wizard.

The building was down a surprisingly dark alley in between two of the
biggest theaters. Klik was the only light for a hun­dred yards in any
direction. I sidled up to the well-concealed doorway and gave the
membership knock.

Rap rap rap, dadadadada, rap rap rap. Boom boom boom. Rap rap rap rap
rap. Tap tap!

A round porthole appeared in the center of the door. "Who seeks
admittance?" asked a hoarse voice.

"A fellow seeker," I replied.

"By what right do you seek admittance here?" the voice continued.

"By common interests and brotherhood," I said. "Look,
can we skip the rest of the litany? I don't have twenty minutes
to waste tonight."

The voice got haughty. "We have standards to maintain! To continue' what
brought you to this place?"

It was question three of fifty-one. I sighed. "The search for wisdom."

".. .And what is the name of the seeker who seeks admittance, under the
bylaws and statutes of this august institution?" the voice finally
asked, almost an hour later. The others had waited behind me, out of
earshot, since the whole password thing was supposed to be a secret. I
could hear Asti and Buirnie giggling. I had felt that humiliated in my
life, but not recently. I gritted out the last answer.

"Aahz. Aahzmandius. Now, open the damned door al­ready!"

"Aahzmandius...let me check the records. Yes, member­ship dues paid up
to date. Come in, seeker, and be welcome!"

The eye slot slammed shut. I stood back. Most of the wall opened up to
reveal double doors of solid gold inlaid with impressive jade sigils.
Most of them were jokes that only other magicians would get, like the
one on my left as I strode in that said, "Eat at Joe's," in a remote,
ancient dialect of Imp. An­other was a complex recipe for seaweed stew.

As I entered, two scantily-clad females in pink and blue sequins
flanking the doorway threw up their gloved hands and posed.

"Ta-daaaaa!" they chorused.

Tananda pussyfooted her way inside, as one who always felt at ease no
matter where she was, but Calypsa was open-beaked, gawking at everything
like the most backwoods coun­try rube.

I had to admit that the place had its impressive elements. Illusions of
trapeze artists swung around the chandeliered ceil­ing in between the
triple images of fire-breathing dragons. I realized I was wrong—the one
in the middle really /was /a dragon, part of the club's security system,
since even advanced magi­cians generally needed a specialized control
device to keep

from getting eaten by a dragon that they had not personally impressed.
This one, a brick-colored monstrosity with five heads, clung to a
protruberance like an upside-down Christ­mas tree. It lowered one head
to sniff at us as we came in. I signed to the others to hold still for
the pat-down as the mon­ster nose ran us up one side and down the other.
Fortunately, I had encountered this one before. Dragons never forgot a
scent, of people to whom they were indifferent, and people they hated.
They rarely, if ever, liked a nondragon. Gleep, Skeeve's smelly pest—I
mean, pet—was a notable exception. Tananda winked at it as it drew away,
which startled it into letting out a puff of sulfur-scented smoke.

I felt right at home. Magicians from a hundred dimensions hung out there
alone or in small groups, absorbing alcohol and other intoxicants. Just
to my right, one stout Kobold was dem­onstrating to a goggle-eyed
Vulpine how to breathe out a stream of fire. Beyond them, a big group of
Imp magicians in gaudy outfits only Imps would think were stylish were
engaged in a loud discussion about cabinets. Same old, same old.

"Bar's over there," said the haughty voice, only minimally warmer. It
turned out to be coming from a sawed-off little squirt of a guy with a
long, thin nose and large, limpid eyes. "We had to move it from the
original location while the new library was being installed. Half the
books kept absorbing the alcohol. Although you can still have a drink in
there. Some of the members need it while they're reading."

"Thanks," I said. "Say, can you tell me if one of my bud­dies came in in
the last couple of hours? He's a Pikinise. He's got a book he said I
could borrow."

"Oh, him! Yes, he's in the library." Squirt pointed us to­ward the huge
oil painting of a room full of leather-bound books on carved wooden
shelves. It was a magikal illusion that covered the doorway. Another
couple of stage assistants stood by to acclaim anyone who came or went
through it. "Guy sure can drink. Not much for talking."

"Thanks." I started in the direction he indicated.

"Come on," I said to Tananda and Calypsa. "The library's filled with
tall shelves. We can surround him and sneak up on him."

"I fear not, good Aahz," Ersatz whispered to me from in­side his
illusory disguise as a set of twirling batons. "I can sense Payge,
therefore he can sense us. He may alert Froome. We must hurry."

"Right." I sauntered faster. "Move it."

Five feet from the oil painting, we bounced off an invis­ible barrier. I
shoved at it, but it seemed to stretch out in every direction. I stormed
back to the concierge's desk.

"What's the idea?" I demanded.

"Sorry," Squirt said. He blinked at us. "Are your two very fetching
assistants fully qualified magicians? Because if they're not, they can't
go in. Sorry for the inconvenience, ladies. Rules of the house. You know
that. Chapter 18 of the Magicians' Club Guidelines and Grimoire."

I shrugged to the others. That caveat had slipped my mind. The big
reception room and the bar were the only parts of the club that
strangers, that was to say, nonmembers, could enter. Which was a shame,
since it was a pretty interesting building, with its own
handsomely-appointed, plush theater for club-only performances where
magicians tried out their new acts for one another, private rooms for
banquets and business meet­ings, repair facilities for magikal items, a
wine cellar that would astonish maitre d's at the hotels around us.

"That's all right," Tananda said, sauntering toward the deep,
velvet-covered couches and divans that were arranged in cosy
conversation groups all over the vast room. "We'll just make ourselves
comfortable."

"Say, Bub," I said, drawing the sawn-off doorwarden aside. "Is there any
way I could arrange for a private conference with my friend in there? I
don't want to disturb anyone else, but we've got to have a major
professional conversation."

The Squirt eyed me. "You know the rules about ruin­ing the decor. No
incendiary magik, no summoning

elementals, no ordnance except what's specified in the Magus Convention."

I held up an innocent palm. "If anyone rips the wallpaper, it isn't
going to be me," I promised him.

"All right. I'll have a word with the others and see if they'll give you
a little privacy. Come with me."

I trailed him to the library door. He stepped through and turned to give
me a harried look.

"Well? I haven't got all night."

I rammed into the invisible barrier. I pounded on it with my palms, then
my fists. It didn't make a sound, but I couldn't move any farther
forward. "What the hell is going on here? I'm a member in good standing."

"Hmmm." The Squirt came over to me, then held up his palms and walked
all the way around me. He frowned. He did the hand test again. Then he
beckoned. From amidst the tra­peze show on the ceiling swooped a
gray-skinned, winged and fanged hulk in a tuxedo. I recognized him as
Savona, a Scourge, denizen of a dimension I didn't visit very often,
partly be­cause the locals make me think of vampires on steroids.
Vil­lagers with torches and pitchforks don't run after them, they run
away. Scourges were very long-lived, very smart, and very tough. The
Club had employed them for millenia. I suspected that the current
employees might even be the originals. They have senses not unlike those
of bats, including hearing that make Pervects seem as deaf as elderly
Klahds. If you whisper a drink order anywhere in the club, the Scourge
behind the bar will make it for you and send it to your table on a wisp
of force. They believe in good service, but they still give me the
creeps. Having one show up when you aren't expecting him is a good way
to get a cardiovascular workout while sitting down.

"How may I serve, Mr. Polka?" this one asked, very politely.

"Test him, Mr. Savona," the Squirt said.

The Scourge's left eyebrow went up. "But, this is Mr. Aahzmandius."

"That's what he says. Test him. Something's wrong. Why can't he go
through the members-only barrier?"

Savona fixed his gaze upon me. The large black eyes seemed as though
they were looking right through to my backbone. He lowered his voice.

"Mr. Aahzmandius can't pass the barrier because his ties to the force
lines are broken."

"He has no magik?" Polka asked. "Then, why did the main door let him
through? Even if a stranger answers all the ques­tions, it doesn't mean
the portal recognizes him."

"He is carrying a very powerful magik item in the bag over his
shoulder," Savona said, aiming a talon-like fingernail at Asti's bag.
"No doubt the door thought it was coming from him. The same for the
ladies in his company." He bowed to Tananda and Calypsa. Tanda wiggled a
couple of fingers at him and smiled invitingly. Savona's complexion
turned a deeper gray. Even Scourges weren't immune to Trollops' charms.

"Items? What kind of items?"

"All right!" I said, slapping Polka heartily on the back. "You got me!
It worked!"

"What worked?" Polka asked, his little face wrinkling in concentration.

I leaned forward confidentially. "The board of direc­tors didn't want it
known yet, but they wanted to check the security systems here in the
club to make sure they are working. They've sent in several other
members over the last month—maybe you've noticed a few of them? They
seem perfectly normal, but there's something a little off about them?"

Polka looked astonished, but Savona cleared his throat gently. "Like the
Deveel that had been multiplied into trip­lets? He only had one
membership card, but he requested admission for all three of his
simulacra, sir."

"I remember. We let him in. I wasn't happy about it, but his was the
face on the card. However, we did not allow him to buy three drinks for
the price of one."

"Yes, that's right," *I said. "You handled that one just *right, too."

Polka frowned.

"So let me get this straight—you let the Board remove your powers
temporarily so you could trigger the 'members-only' barriers?"

"Yup. And to see if I could get you to let me into the rest of the club
premises even though I don't qualify." I laughed heartily. "But you
stuck to procedure. They're gonna be really pleased with you, lemme tell
you!"

Polka looked horrified. "Why would anyone do that? Leav­ing yourself.
..helpless!"

"Well," I said, looking modest. "Sometimes you've just got to take one
for the club, you know? Rule 46: a member must keep the well-being of
his fellows uppermost in his mind at all times."

"That's Rule 47," Polka said, peevishly. "

Savona cleared his throat again. The soft sound had men­ace behind it.
*His *fangs gleamed.

"He's lying, Mr. Polka."

"No, I'm not," I said, heartily. "I'm just a good guy helping out."

"This is the first that I have heard of a test of the security system. I
have been in charge of that department for 1,043 years. The Board has
never shown any signs of being discontented with my work or that of my
colleagues. There have been no significant breaches that would provoke
them to undertake such a test. I believe he must have lost his powers
under some other circumstances. I am afraid, though, that such a loss
does consti­tute grounds for dismissal from the membership."

"Hold it, hold it!" I said. "I'm still a magician. Of course. It takes
more than power to qualify. You know that. There's prestidigitation,
misdirection, illusion, none of which re­quires magik."

"That's very true." Polka snapped his fingers, and a pink sequined top
hat appeared in his hands. He thrust it at me. "If you are still a
magician, then pull a rabbit out of this hat."

Now, everyone was looking. Tananda started to make mo­tions. She was
going to try and raise a rabbit for me behind everyone's back. Of all
the gin joints in every dimension, this was the wrong one. Everyone in
the lounge turned to stare at her.

"Yipe!"

Savona aimed a talon, and she and Calypsa were both wrapped up in a
cocoon of ribbons from shoulder to hip.

"I am terribly sorry," he said. "No outside interference is permitted.
Pray proceed."

I was on my own.

"Well?" Polka asked. I grinned painfully.

"C'mon, I don't do rabbits," I said. "That's small-time stuff."

"Small-time?" A tall, thin, blue-skinned magician rose up in
indignation. He was about three feet taller than I was. He loomed down
at me. "Pulling rabbits from hats small-time? I'll have you know I have
wowed them at the Borean Palace for over fifty years with rabbits!"

"Look, I'm not trying to offend you," I said, reaching up with some
difficulty to slap the Bore on the back. "I'm just into bigger effects,
that's all."

"Then produce one," Polka said. "Not with the help of your assistants.
Not with the help of those fancy gizmos you have with you. Just you. Wow
us."

I'm famous for thinking on my feet, but there's times when not even
slick talking will help.

"Look," I said, leaning closer to the Squirt and grin­ning
companionably. He leaned away. "You wouldn't em­barrass an old member,
would you? Down on his luck, and all. I'll get 'em back one of these
days. In fact, that's what I came to talk to my buddy about' restoring
my pow­ers. You wouldn't want to get in the way of that? I've been a
member in good standing for decades. Don't I get a little leeway?"

"Well..." Polka's expression softened slightly, but Savona's didn't.

"I would like to point out that the monitors have detected the character
of the items concealed about the persons of Mr. Aahzmandius and his
colleagues. They are /Prohibited, /sir."

Even I could hear the capital P. By now we were attract­ing attention. I
tried jollying him. "It's just part of the test, Savona. C'mon."

"I am very sorry, sir, but there are no bylaws under which \ou may carry
into these premises either a magikal sword, es­pecially not one of such
intrinsic power..."

"A sword?" Polka squeaked, but Savona wasn't finished.

".. .or a device for prognostication. In fact, the latter would be
banned anywhere in the city. It could predict the outcome of bets,
possibly resulting in the loss of millions at the tables. The accuracy
readings are off the charts."

"Hmm," I said. "I never thought of that." Kelsa might have some uses
after all. But Polka wasn't up for speculation.

"Where is it?" he asked, shaking with rage.

Savona pointed at Tananda. "That young lady has it in her possession.
She is the architect of an illusion spell that is keep­ing the normal
appearance of all the items concealed."

"You were planning to cheat the casinos?" Polka de­manded, breasting up
to me. "Using the club as a base? That's outrageous!"

"No, that's not why we're here," I protested. "Look, all I want to do is
talk to my friend in the library, okay?"

"We only have your word on that, sir," the enormous Scourge said. He
lowered the crossbow so the point of the quarrel was aimed directly
between my eyes.

"I am afraid, Mr. Aahzmandius," Polka said, with dignity, "that I must
ask you to leave."

"Leave?" I said, desperately looking at the library door.

Behind it, the Book was waiting. If I could just.. .reach.. .it

I shouldered into the invisible barrier again. "Why should I leave? I
belong here!"

"Well, you're not a member any longer, not until you regain your powers,
since they were the source of your

qualifications. Otherwise you would not have gained ac­cess, you know.
Where's your membership card?"

The entire room was definitely looking at me now. I mumbled, "Deva."

The Squirt clapped his hands together, and a rectangular waller card
suddenly lay in his outstretched palm. The fancy Magicians' Club logo
was embossed in baby blue on the left. My moving picture had been
applied to the right half, over my sig­nature. The youthful me in the
image was grinning like an idiot. The mouth was moving. I had been
talking to the magician tak­ing the magikal photo. I snarled at that
callow youngster, who couldn't do a damned thing to help. Polka
tsk-tsked. He flicked his other fingers at the card, and it burst into
flames. The Pervect in the picture yelled silently, then crumbled into
ashes.

"You can't do that to me!" I bellowed.

"It is my duty," Polka said. He didn't have to look so pleased about it.
"You have broken several of our bylaws. You have committed fraudulent
use of membership, failing to inform the committee about a change of
circumstances, carrying prohibited magikal items into the club,
attempted assault of another member, and finally, disturbing the calm of
the Magicians' Club, which has been famous as an oasis of peace and
quiet for our brethren and sisteren for over seven thousand years! See
him out, Mr. Savona," the Squirt concluded, with a majestic wave of his
skinny little hand. "If they try to get back in, you have my permission
to use scorn as well as deadly force."

"Hey, wait a minute!" I said.

"I'm afraid I must fling you out into the street, Mr. Aahzmandius,"
Savona said, with what looked like genuine regret. I tried to sidestep
him, but it's not easy to get out of the reach of a guy with wings. In a
flutter, he had the back of my neck clamped with his talons, and my
right arm bent up be­hind my back.

"No, you don't," I said, trying to get out of his grasp, as he propelled
me inexorably toward the front door. "C'mon, you

don't have to make it look so real. Check with the Board. They'll tell
you..."

"Ta-daaaaa!" sang the stage assistants, arms up, as the door whisked open.

By that time I was airborne. I landed about thirty feet down the alley.
Two pairs of feet appeared before my eyes as I was picking myself up.

"What happened to the ribbons?" I growled up at Tananda and Calypsa.

"Savona cut them off," Tananda said, with a little smile. She gave me a
hand and heaved. I popped up. Sometimes I forget how strong she is.
"With one swipe of that talon! I like a man who has a decent manicure.
He gave me his number. We've got a date if I ever get back this way again."

Chapter 15

"WELL, THAT WAS an appalling screwup," Asti said, as I dusted myself
off. "Badly handled. Not only did you not se­cure Payge, but Froome has
escaped again."

"I suppose you could have done better, sister?" I asked. I glanced back.
The doorway had vanished, replaced once again by an eye-level slit.

"Of course I could! Your story was weak from the begin­ning. Telling
them you're a secret investigator. Hah!"

"It almost worked!" I said, defensively.

/"Almost /is the operative word," Asti said. "Pitiful."

"Pitiful!" I bellowed.

Tananda put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off.

"Inept, then. Do you like that better?" the Cup asked.

"For your information, honey, I was doing pretty well, un­til I rammed
into that wall. I should have seen that coming."

"How could you see an invisible wall?" Calypsa asked.

I shook my head. "I should have asked to see Froome in public, gotten
Polka to bring him out where we could jump him."

The Cup rolled her engraved eyes. "Hah! Then he would have cried for
help. While you were dealing with the enforcers, he would have run back
into the safety of the members' rooms, where you couldn't follow. Still
a failure. Utter lack of prepara­tion, and in a locale that you claimed
to know well. You should have recalled that there would be protective
spells. You could have come up with a much better cover story. They
could tell right away you didn't have any magik, apart from us and that
ancient bauble in your pocket. You could have come up with a much better
story. I could have come up with one in my sleep!"

"Then why didn't you, sister?" I snarled, holding her up eye to eye with
me. 'You're so free and easy with the criticism. I thought you were in
on this mission. But you'd rather carp at me than help!"

Asti's engraving looked as if it was etched into granite instead of
gold. "Mortal, you fail or succeed on your own. You can ask us for help,
but we're not going to jump in and rescue you from your pathetic lack of
strategy. Buirnie offered to be of assistance, but you turned him down.
Under those circum­stances, I felt no need to offer."

"I thought that his approach was the correct one," Ersatz put in.

"Thanks," I said.

The Sword wasn't finished critiquing me. "But even so, you did not push
hard enough. You have a forceful personal­ity; why did you not use it?"

"Or charm!" Buirnie said. "A little more friendliness would have helped."

"All right, that's it," I said, cutting them off with one hand. "I've
had enough of you riding me. I don't have to justify my actions to you.
So this attempt failed. We're not dead yet, and neither is Calypso.
Unless I want your input, keep your com­ments to yourself. I'm going
back in there if I have to take on the whole room. I'm going to get
Froome." I cracked my knuck­les. "Come on."

"No point," Kelsa said cheerfully. "He's gone. He blinked out when the
argument started."

I gawked. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Well, you get so cross when I interrupt you, but I do think, dear Aahz,
you ought to relax that stricture, since it often runs counter to what
you need to know at certain psychological moments..."

"Never mind," I snarled.

"Do you see?" Asti said. "Calypsa, child, in future be guided by us. We
have millennia more experience to draw upon. This Pervert has led you
astray over and over. There is little time left. Do not waste any more
of it."

"That's it," I said. "I can take it when you four argue among
yourselves, but I am tired of being needled when I'm doing my best.
Forget it. I don't want any part of you, except Kelsa."

The Crystal Ball blinked huge yellow eyes. "I'm honored!"

"Don't be. If you weren't useful I wouldn't bother with any of you." I
swapped the case containing Asti with Tananda for Kelsa's bowling bag.
I'm going after Froome on my own without you. I'll meet you back in the
inn on Ori," I told Tananda.

She tucked her hand into my arm and eased close to me. I eyed her with
suspicion. I had a good mad on now, and I didn't want to waste it.

"You can't go, Aahz," she said.

"Yes, I can," I said. "I've got the D-hopper. All I need is a guide to
catch up with this guy. I work better alone." I yanked the device out of
my pocket.

"No, you haven't," Tananda said.

"What?" I bellowed. "I've /always /worked alone."

"But not better," she said, with a little smile quirking the corners of
her mouth. She took Kelsa away from me and handed her off to Calypsa,
who stood in the blaze of Klik's spotlight. Tananda drew me aside.

"This isn't just about how much nagging you've been get­ting from the
Hoard, is it?" she said in a low voice. "I miss Skeeve, too. But I never
saw you think harder or work more effectively than when you were trying
to live up to the image he has of you in his mind."

"Dragon dung," I snarled. "Maybe I'm just fed up with having everything
I do being criticized. Women always have to have a deeper explanation
for things."

The smile became a broad grin. "Maybe. Dragon dung is real, and so is
what I'm saying. You know why he went back to Klah."

"He got tired of us," I said, tossing a hand casually. "I know how he
feels. I got claustrophobia working too closely with everyone. I'm not
used to it. He probably felt like he couldn't take the pressure any
more. I'm feeling like that now."

She shook her head. "You don't have to lie to /me. /He went back so he
could work on becoming worthy of hanging

out with us. As if we could live up to /his /standards. Admit it' Skeeve
makes you feel proud and small at the same time. He's more of a realist
than I ever would have thought, after that first moment in the Bazaar,
when I could have stolen the bones out of his body without him catching
on, but he has this shining image of us as the ultimate companions.
Part­ners. That word has a special meaning for me, now. Except for
Chumley I hardly ever trusted anyone I work with, but I learned to trust
all of you, and I learned that you were worth trusting, because Skeeve
opened my eyes. You don't even believe you're trustworthy, because you
keep going back to how greedy you are. Asti's playing on that, and it
stings, doesn't it? But it's natural for Pervects, nothing to be ashamed
of. Skeeve took that into consideration, and so do I. You're pushing us
away, even though we're perfectly good compan­ions, because if you think
Skeeve told us to take a hike, then no one is worth hanging around with.
But he didn't. He told /himself /to leave. I think he hoped the rest of
us would stay together, but, admit it, Aahz, he was the glue. In my
business you can't get too attached to anyone, but I'm attached to him.
He's family, and so are you. So, cousin, are you going to reopen your
brain and take us with you, or are you going to march in there alone?"

I don't like having my private feelings dredged up and smashed into my
face like wedding cake, but as Tananda said, she's an old friend who
knows me pretty damned well. It had bugged me when Ersatz implied no
mortals could have a fel­lowship as good as theirs—which didn't seem so
terrific to me, the way they fought all the time.

"All right," I said, keeping up the show of reluctance. "But if you're
coming with me, no screwing up."

"I'll try." She grabbed my ears and planted a solid kiss on my lips.
"Attaboy, Aahz," she said. "Come on, Calypsa, we've got to get moving!"

BAMF!

The contrast between Vaygus and Tomburg was so marked that I thought we
had jumped from a color set to black-and-white. Where neon had decorated
not only the buildings but the clothes of the people of Vaygus, those of
Tomburg's deni­zens I could see hunched over reading at desks in
cubicles around me were dressed in drab, natural colors, matching the
musty-smelling books on nearby shelves. We were in pretty close
quarters. Tanda and Calypsa were jammed in tight.

"Where is he?" I asked Kelsa.

"Shh!" A round face was thrust into mine, a finger held vertical against
its lips. I jumped back.

Only long experience kept me from smashing the face in with my fist in
surprise, but I felt like doing it anyhow once I had my bearings. I
didn't think that round a face could com­press into that many wrinkles
of disapproval. The guy behind it was cylindrical in shape, with at
least nine pairs of arms and legs running down his body.

"What the hell is your problem, Bub?" I snarled.

The forefinger moved away from the fat little face, and pointed at a
sign on a pillar between two tall cabinets filled with books.

SILENCE, it said. The forefinger stabbed toward it sev­eral times for
good measure.

'What is this, a monastery?"

The chubby being shook its head at me. I took a good look around. The
shelves of books behind me weren't the only ones. In fact, they seemed
to stretch away down the aisle in which we were standing, almost to
infinity. Once I tamped down my temper enough to listen, I heard dozens
of unseen beings breathing and the rustle of pages turning, scholars
sitting in unseen carrels bent over their books. We were in a library. I
turned to Tananda and Calypsa.

"Of all the..."

"Shh!"

I scowled at the librarian, but lowered my voice. "Of all the sneaky
tricks!"

"It's just what I told you," Kelsa said, for once moder­ating her shrill
tones. "You will find Payge here among his fellow books!"

"That isn't what you said," I reminded her.

"Oh, it was something like that. What does it matter? He is here. All
you have to do is catch him. I have foreseen it!"

"You foresee a lot of things," I commented. The book­worm behind me
shushed me once more. "All right," I breathed. "I'll whisper!"

He nodded, then inched off, I supposed, to harass another visitor.

"Where, exactly, is he?" I asked Kelsa. "No, don't talk. Show me."

The Crystal Ball fogged up, then cleared. In its depths I saw another
rank of bookshelves, identical to the ones that were around us.

"That does not help," Calypsa whispered. "They all look alike."

"Not completely," Tananda whispered back. "Look! He's standing under a
sign that says "Fe-Fi." Maybe he likes being near his initials."

I grinned. "Well, let's go and Fo-Fum this Froome. I'm tired of playing
catch up all across the dimensions. We'll split up and surround him." I
glanced up. The local species, who re­sembled big bookworms, didn't just
travel the floor of the aisles. I saw them clinging to the sides of
shelves, even the ceiling, as they perused a row of covers.

"Can you climb up there, too?" I asked Tananda.

"Piece of cake," she said. With a supple movement, she clambered up the
nearest tier, and vanished over the top.

"Then, you jump him from above. I'll go around to the right. Calypsa,
you take the left." I leaned down and stuck a forefinger in Buirnie's
face. "One peep out of you, and I'll use you for a U-bend under my
bathroom sink, holes or no holes. Savvy?"

"Oh, very well," he said. "I will be pianissimo piano."

"No kind of piano. Not a note of music until we're out in the street.
I'm not taking any chances on getting thrown out of here. Let's move.

"I can put everyone in the library to sleep," Asti suggested, as I
tiptoed past "Do-Du." "I've got a wonderful soporific gas that will drop
every breathing being in its tracks."

"No, thanks," I said. "I don't want anything like that circu­lating
while Tananda's on the ceiling. If we can get close enough, you can zap
him. Just try and keep me out of the fallout, all right?"

"Aahz, I have millennia of experience at this!"

"Give me a lucky beginner over an experienced veteran every time," I said.

There's something about a library that always makes me want to go to
sleep. Not only is there the gentle sound of shushing in the air, but
the air itself seems to be as still as glass. With sun pouring through
the windows, the building was comfortably warm, and the scent of old
books just acts like a sedative on my system. I felt like slapping
myself in the face to keep awake.

I got some annoyed glances and a few surprised ones as I plowed my way
toward the F's. They didn't show any ner­vousness about Pervects, which
I believe to be a sign of intel­ligence. We usually only attack when
provoked. Or offended. Or hungry.

My keen hearing informed me that Tananda was doing her best to keep
Kelsa quiet as she clambered over the tops of the stacks. Ersatz was
giving Calypsa whispers of advice as she took the right flank around
Froome, through the G's and H's.

I edged along cautiously, watching out for that first glimpse of black
fur. I had never gotten a good look at our quarry in either of the two
dimensions through which we had just chased him, but the odds of another
Pikinise being here in the public library on Tomburg were between slim
and none.

The readers and browsers around me inhaled and ex­haled softly, with the
exception of one older bookworm in

the corner, who was panting. I grinned at him as I went by. He was
reading a racy novel with his eyes bugged out on stalks. Once I had
tuned him out, I started to become aware of one more respiration
apparatus in operation. This one was wheezing, not in lust, but in fear.
That had to be our boy. I tiptoed faster.

I slipped around the next bank of books. There he was! Like his tiler
friend back home, he had an inverted triangle for a face covered with
black hair, but he was dressed in a long brown robe, belted around the
middle, and a pair of boots far more suited to hanging around in bars
than hiking. His back was pressed hard against the shelves as he looked
left and right. Over his left shoulder he had a huge satchel, just the
kind of bag suitable for hauling around a precious tome made of solid
gold. I eased back before he saw me.

In the shadows I considered my options. I had no means of disguising
myself as a local. If I came around the corner at him, he would just run
off in the other direction. I couldn't hear Ersatz, so Calypsa wasn't in
place yet. I looked overhead for Tananda. Depending on the traffic on
top of the shelves, it could take her a moment or so to get here.

I had a bright idea. I slid into the aisle behind him and made my way to
the opposite side of the bank of shelves. If I plunged forward at just
the right moment, I could grab him from behind and hang onto him until
the cavalry finally made it up the hill. I peered through at the back of
his head, crouched, and prepared to spring.

"May I help you?" a pleasant voice asked me. A female bookworm sidled up
beside me.

"Quiet!" Asti commanded. "He is attempting an ambush."

"Thanks for nothing!" I said. The sound of our voices had alerted
Froome. I caught a glimpse of terrified eyes just before he dashed away
to the right. I shoved the helpful aide to one side and set out in
pursuit. "What did you say that for?"

"Well, we didn't need her help, did we?" Asti asked, just as annoyed
with me. "She might have alerted him as to our presence!"

"So you did it for me? Thanks a heap."

"Shh!" hissed several of the bookworms clinging to the walls. I stepped
up my pace.

In the silence, the Pikinise's footsteps were perfectly au­dible. He
turned and turned again, hoping to throw me off his trail, but that was
pretty well unlikely.

A shape whisked overhead like a squirrel leaping from tree to tree as I
crossed an aisle. Tananda gave me a wink and gestured to the left. I
went right. We had to corner Froome before he got out the door.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. I halted in the middle of a long
corridor filled with dusty, brown books each three inches thick on one
side, and windows on the other. A glance told me that we were on the
second floor above the street. Tananda went overhead again, and the
footsteps doubled back. I spun and went in pursuit.

I raced into the nearest intersection. A small party of book­worms stood
in the center, holding a book the size of a bed. Froome came charging
out of the corridor just opposite me. His eyes went huge, and he dashed
to the left. I had to dive over the open book to follow.

"Aaggh!" Asti protested, as I bounded to my feet. "Watch the judo rolls,
will you?"

"Unless you've got a flying potion, I've got to go with regu­lar
locomotion, babe," I said.

"I'll make one, I'll make one," she said. "Just stop jostling me!"

The head start Froome had gotten helped him to lose me, but not Tanda. I
whistled, and a shrill blast came back to me, from about five rows over.
I jogged in that direction, dodging in between browsers and students.
Tananda whistled again. The sound was closer. I looked up.

"Where'd he go?" I asked.

"Shhh!" the readers chorused.

At that moment, a black-and-brown blur zipped past us through the
nearest cross row. We looked at each other, then rushed after him. Where
was Calypsa?

Ahead, I could see a sign with the zig-zag pattern that was the
universal symbol for stairs. He was making for the ground floor. I put
on a burst of speed. I didn't want to have to deal with security, if
this place had any. He was pretty quick on his feet. He managed to
outdistance me in seconds.

The stacks suddenly opened out to an open area, with a railed staircase
at the far end of it. I saw Froome, bookbag and all, racing ahead of me.
Suddenly, he pinwheeled to a stop, with his hands raised. I hurried to
catch up. Tananda leaped down from the shelves ran after me.

Chapter 16

AS SOON AS I drew level with him, I could see why he had stopped.
Calypsa stood at the top of the staircase. She had Ersatz drawn and
leveled under his trembling chin. Froome looked from her to me and back
again.

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" he begged.

"Steady does it, child," Ersatz said. Calypsa looked as frightened as
the Pikinise did, but she clutched the Sword with both hands. "He is no
threat to you. He won't flee. Use me as a deterrent, not a weapon. Do
not lean forward or you will spit him through the windpipe."

"Ulp!" said Froome. Under his fur, his skin turned greenish.

"I am trying," Calypsa said, but she was as nervous as our quarry. The
Sword's point wobbled up and down. I put a finger underneath it and
lifted it up out of the way.

"Ah, there you are, friend Aahz!" Ersatz said.

"How did you know where he'd be?" I asked.

"Ersatz figured it out," Calypsa said. "He made me take him to a chart
of the floor. After only one look, he said that Froome would probably
flee to this point. And he has. I used my Dance of Speed to bring us
here ahead of Froome. I have so much to learn from Ersatz!" She fixed an
expression of worship on the blade. The dark blue eyes dipped modestly.

"I offer my small skills for what they're worth."

"Nice work," I said. I turned to the cowering Pikinise. "We came for
Payge. Give him to us. Now."

It's hard to look scared and defiant at the same time, but Froome
managed. He stuck out his pointy chin. "Y-y-you can't have him."

"Look," I snarled. "I have not chased you across three di­mensions to
have you say no to me. I might have been inclined to negotiate about
three days ago, maybe give you something

for your trouble, but not any more. You've got him. We need him. Gimme
the bag." I held out my hand.

More than reluctantly, he slid the thick strap off his shoul­der and
handed the bag over. I grabbed it from him.

"You have no right to do this," he said. "I'm entitled to my source
material. You're interfering with my job!"

"Yeah?" I asked, glaring him in the eye. "Well, you're in­terfering with
the life of that young lady's grandfather. I'd say that that trumps your
career."

"His life?" Froome said, looking less annoyed and terri­fied, and more
interested. "Tell me more."

Calypsa never needed more than a single word of encour­agement to open
the floodgates.

"Well, you see, my grandfather is the great Calypso..."

I opened the bag and pulled out the book I found inside.

"There," I gloated, shoving it in Asti's field of view. "Think I'm a
screwup now?"

"'Mud and Malarkey, The Account of My Years as A Village Idiot in the
Kingdom of Ruizmotto,'" Asti read off the spine. "Yes, I agree, it
/could /be your life story. That's not Payge."

"What?" I said. I looked at the book.

"Besides, he has a solid gold cover," Asti reminded me. "This is morocco
calfskin in a disgusting shade of green. Pub­lished about fifty years
ago, I'd say by the smell."

"I've been to Ruismotto," Buirnie said. "I know a song about the queen
who ruled fifty years ago. She had a very big nose. Want to hear it?"

"No!" I said.

".. .And the wizard Barrik turned out to be a bad neighbor, a very
tyrant who terrorized us..."

I stuck my hand in again. Sure enough, there was another "This thing is
more roomy than it looks." I decanted that vol­ume. On a shiny black
leather cover in silver were the words "Volume III."

"Not right."

I kept removing books from the bookbag. It seemed to have an infinite
capacity, all of it filled with lengthy personal accounts, histories,
collections of poems, legends and urban myths. Then I remembered the
dusty shelves in his study on Pikini. I glared at Froome. "You had to
bring the whole collec­tion with you?" I asked.

"I..." the guy swallowed. I realized he was fairly young. "The account
of your conquests in the Golden Book was fear­some. I didn't think I
would be safe to return. Are you going to pull out my guts and tie them
in knots?"

"Only if I don't find what I'm looking for, PDQ," I said. I had run out
of room on the desk, and was stacking books on the floor. "Where is it?"

"It's not here," Kelsa said.

"How do you know?" I demanded, hauling out an entire set of
encyclopaedia, one fat volume at a time. It was fol­lowed by The
Complete Little Nemo, books of Pervish car­toons, a Dragonette cookbook,
and at least fifteen books on how to write stories.

"My dear Aahz! All of these are ordinary books. Not a single magikal
text in here. They're all storybooks. Novels."

"You are putting me on!" I shook Froome. "Where is it?"

"I'll never tell you where I have hidden the Golden Book," he said,
throwing his head back defiantly. "I would rather die."

I shoved my face close to his.

"That can be arranged."

"Gold? Oh, I saw that," Tananda said. "That was Payge?" She hurried back
to the last standing shelf and climbed up to the second highest tier.
Froome's face fell.

Tananda braced herself, and clamped her hand around one volume. Now that
I was looking in the right direction, I could just see a glimpse of gold.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I can't get it out!"

"What do you mean, you can't get it out? It's probably just too heavy to
pull with one hand."

"I mean, it's not moving at all."

"There they are!" a soft voice declared.

A bookworm slunk up the stairs and reared his upper body to point in our
direction. Several other bookworms, dressed in uniforms with gold braid
on their peaked caps, came swarm­ing up around him. They surrounded us.
A whole coterie inched up around Tananda, heading her off before she
could clamber to the top of the stacks.

"All right," the leader whispered, as he rose up to stare me straight in
the face. "You are disturbing the peace of this es­tablishment. You must
go."

"We can't go yet," I said. "I need a book!"

"It looks like you've got all the books you need," he said. "When you
have finished with those, come back. But quietly! In the meanwhile,
please leave, or we will have to use force."

"At least let us take a look at the book on that shelf," I said. These
characters didn't look that strong. I figured once we got it down, we
could make a break for it with the D-hopper.

"Absolutely not," the library clerk said, as clerks shoveled Froome's
collection back into his satchel of holding. "All books on our shelves
become part of our permanent collection. They are accessible only to
card holders! Take them out of here," he instructed the guards.

I had been given the bum's rush more than once while working for
Calypsa, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. I shook off all the
little hands and marched down the stairs with dignity ahead of the
bookworms.

"You're making a mistake," I said. "We have permission to be here. We're
making a documentary about this place. You've just earned a role as the
designated villain. You've got one chance to make us change our minds."

"Shh!" the guards hissed in unison.

"You have to let me get that book!" Calypsa pleaded, as they hustled her
out. They got us into the foyer. Long lines of bookworms were waiting at
the desk to check out their choices.

"If you do not listen to me, I will dance until you do!" She threw up
her arm.

I grabbed it. "Save it for outside!" I said. I tilted my head toward the
door. Her eyes widened, but she nodded and relaxed.

They marched us out into the street, then left us, dusting their hands
together. Froome stumbled into the gutter, clutch­ing his bag to his
chest. A vehicle shaped like a bowl on wheels with three Bookworms in it
screeched to a halt and sounded a horn at him that sounded like an
indignant canary. Froome scrambled back onto the pavement and headed for
the entrance.

"I'm going back for Payge," he said. "I'll explain it's all a mistake.
You can't stop me!"

"Says who?" I demanded, making a beeline for him. "I'm going back for
it! I'll toss you over the next building!"

"In front of all of these people?" Froome said. "They'll jump you before
you can hit me twice. This is a very law-abiding civilization. I'm going
to take back my book!" He turned back to open the door. I dodged in
front of him. He tried to get past me. I put a vise grip around his wrist.

"Shall we dance?" I asked. "Buirnie, hit it!"

A blast from the Flute caused everyone, including Froome, to turn and
look. Klik, the spotlight, flew about twenty feet into the air and
beamed its brightest light down on Calypsa. The drum swung into a sexy
rhythm.

"Give it all you've got, girl!" I said.

Calypsa started whirling, waving her arms up and down to the music. In
no time, her Dance of Fascination had captured the attention of
passersby. Plump, round-faced Bookworms were crowding and shoving to get
an unobstructed view of her. The bowl-shaped vehicles stopped where they
were. The occupants slithered out to join the growing throng. Bookworms
climbed walls and light posts to take a gander at Calypsa.

For her part, the Walt was making the best use of her audi­ence. She
flirted with the guys in the front row, tickling under

their chins with her feathered hands as she stepped and sashayed. She
brought Ersatz into the act, spinning the gleam­ing blade over her head,
then bringing it down and caressing it. Children were agog until their
outraged mothers covered their eyes with one hand. I gawked, enjoying
the show. Nothing seemed as important as what the slender Walt would do
next.

Suddenly, a finger hooked itself in the corner of my mouth and turned my
head. I found myself looking into Tananda's eyes. She shook her head.

"Can't ignore a pretty girl, can you?" "Thanks," I said.

"Don't mention it. She's good, isn't she?"

The effect on Froome was just as good as I had hoped. The Pikinise
wizard stopped trying to pull away from me. He stared at Calypsa with
his jaw hanging open. I let go of him, and tipped her a wink, careful
not to watch her movements too closely.

"Keep him there until I come back," I told Tananda. "I have an idea."

"You have an idea?" Asti said, as I pushed open the door. "That's worth
a headline."

"Shut up," I said, with great pleasure. "We /are /entering a library."

I swaggered up to the desk. If the Tomburgian male be­hind it was
surprised to have a Pervect addressing him, he hid it well. I gave him
my most affable smile.

"Afternoon," I said, calmly. "I'd like to apply for a library card."

Applause and gasps of admiration came in through the open door from the
street. The librarian behind the desk straightened his goggle-thick
glasses on his big nose and peered over my shoulder. "What is going on
out there?"

"Who knows?" I said. "May I have the application, please?"

In no time at all, I was the proud possessor of a card for the Main
Library System of Tomburg. Two minutes later, I was on the landing where
Froome had stowed the Book. It slid

off the shelf into my hands without a catch or a fuss. Two minutes after
that I was standing in line at the desk. The same librarian who had
given me my card stamped it out.

"You can keep it as long as you need it," he said. "If there's an
interlibrary request for it, we can use our crystal ball to find you."

"You do that," I said, blithely. "Have a nice day."

I sauntered out into the street with the Book under my arm. I waved over
the heads of the crowd to Calypsa and Tananda.

"Got it!" I called.

With one final spin, Calypsa sheathed the Sword and stopped dancing.

"Awwwww!" The crowd let out a wail of disappointment. Bookworms glanced
sheepishly at one another, then scattered about their business. Within
moments, the sidewalk was clear of all but a few passersby.

Froome blinked a few times, then came to himself. He saw the Book, and
made a grab for it. I stiff-armed him. He was taller than I was, but as
weak as a strip club martini.

"Sorry. He's coming with us, now."

"You'll never get away with it," he gasped.

"I just did."

"But, what will I do without him?" Froome said. "He gave me so many ideas!"

"Ideas?" It was my turn to blink. 'You're a magician. Use the force
lines, like everybody else."

"Magician?" he said, puzzled. "I'm not a magician. I'm a storyteller."

'You're a what?" I asked, taken aback. "We thought you were using Payge
as a grimoire. You're a member of the Magi­cians' Club."

"No, no!" Froome said. "I do sleight of hand. It makes my live
performances more interesting. Payge taught me to di­mension-hop. It's
so easy anyone can do it."

"Not everyone," I growled.

Froome didn't seem to notice. "Payge is a great teacher. He is far more
than a grimoire! He's full of amazing stories, dating back millennia.
Some really astounding tales. A lot of them have to do with the Golden
Hoard." He stared at Ersatz and Kelsa. "These are some of the treasures,
aren't they? I recognize them from his descriptions. Are they really as
mar­velous as the legends say?"

"Shhh!" I growled, looking around at the foot traffic pass­ing us on
both sides. "Yes, they are. Don't make headlines out of it."

"Amazing." Froome simply looked fascinated. "I have al­ways lived a very
quiet life. All I do is sit in a small room and craft stories, which I
sell to make my living. Nothing ever hap­pens to me. One day, I went to
a cave, to inspire myself to write a story about underground terrors,
and found him there on a shelf, gleaming like a..."

"Like a beacon in the night?" I supplied.

"Yes! You should be a writer. Payge has been my best source material,
better than any other book I've ever read. I've been so productive with
him critiquing my writing. When I read in his archives that you were
coming, I just panicked! I packed up everything I had and fled. He's
more than a trea­sure, he's my friend, my mentor! Are you sure you won't
just.. .give him back to me?"

"Sorry, kid. Win some, lose some."

Froome was forlorn. "How can I go to the Saylemanor Festival without him?"

"If leading us on a chase across the dimensions hasn't given you the
material for a terrific epic," Tananda said, "then you can't be much of
a storyteller."

"Not to mention Calypsa's tale of woe," I said. "And you just met four
of the other members of the Golden Hoard. That was Ersatz, the great
Sword, at your throat up there in the library."

"I..." Froome looked at each of us, enlightenment dawning. "It was? Why,
I DID have an adventure of my own, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," Tananda said, giving him one of her killer smiles
as she sidled up to him. "And you can tell your listeners that you went
up against the mighty Aahz, one of the toughest and smartest guys ever
to come out of Perv, and that you beat him two times out of three."

"Hey, wait a minute!" I said. "Who's telling this, anyway?"

"Why, Froome will be," Tananda said, giving me a wink. She ran her
fingers up the sleeve of his robe. "Won't you?"

He seemed to be afflicted with a terrible case of dry-mouth. "Why, I..
.how can I resist it? Yes, it'll make wonderful telling! I'll be the hit
of the festival. What.. .what's your name, beau­tiful green lady?"

"Tananda," the Trollop said. "Make sure you spell it right."

The Pikinise was already mining through his capacious satchel for a
quill and a notebook. "And just what was it that you did to make me stop
in my tracks, Miss Calypsa?" he asked.

"The Dance of Fascination," she said.

"It was.. .it was fantastic," he said, with an admiring glance. "Good
luck in freeing your grandfather."

"Thank you," she said, modestly. "You are very kind to let me take Payge."

"You're welcome," he said. "All I ask in return is that you let me know
how it all comes out. And then, look out, Morigrim Festival of Champion
Storytellers. Here I come!"

He blinked out of sight.

/BAMF!/

Chapter 17

"WELL DONE," ASTI said, grudgingly. "That was almost

brilliant."

I swaggered along the main street of Tomburg, looking for a handy alley
that we could slip into, to avoid jumping dimen­sions in front of the
crowd. Froome might have been into public displays of magik, but I wasn't.

"It was pretty clever, now that I think about it," I said.

"On a scale of stupid to stellar, I'd give you a six."

I bared my teeth.

"Give it a rest, sister! Who else could have helped put together five of
you Hoard in a matter of twenty days?"

"Twenty-one," the Book under my arm suddenly spoke up.

"Well, another delegate heard from," I said. I turned the book over so I
could see the cover. Jewels and jade formed the picture of a grand
landscape framing the image of a big, cushy chair with a reading lamp
shining over it. I turned it one more time, to look at the spine. Where
other books had a colophon at the top, Payge had a little face, with
sapphire eyes and a wry mouth shaped like a dingbat. "Why didn't you say
something to Froome before he left?"

"I hate goodbyes," Payge said. "I prefer happy endings."

"Who says this isn't going to have a happy ending?"

"Payge has never liked confrontations of any kind," Er­satz said. "It is
most annoying. He will not even defend him­self in an argument."

"Froome does not need me," Payge said. "I will not be able to teach him
more magik, alas, but he will be the greatest storyteller of this age. I
have confirmation in my own future annals. See page 2,398, and also
pages 3,567 to 3,582, inclu­sive. I am sorry I will not be with him to
witness his success, but I shall know of it just the same."

Kelsa, who looked like the Reader's Digest myopia edi­tion in her
diamante glasses, went hazy for a moment. "Oh, yes, dear. Very
successful. Take a look!"

I flipped the book over and thumbed through it until I came to the first
reference. Sure enough, an illustration of Froome's cheerful face,
somewhat grayer than I had just seen him. He sat on a cushion in the
middle of a sea of admirers. The image topped an article entitled "Word
Magik." Below was a fairly comprehensive biography. I caught sight of my
name in the middle of the text. I paged ahead to the second section,
which was a collection of what would one day be Froome's most famous
stories.

"Not a bad life," I commented.

"If it comes true," the Book said. "There is the remote possibility it
will not come to pass, but I would say his chances of success are over
98%. See my section on Statistics, chapter 2, pages 6,104 to 6,106."

The logo of Payge's face appeared at the bottom of every page. I
addressed the one on page 3,570.

"You have /all /of history written there?"

"Oh, yes, I keep the records of every civilization at hand since I was
first bound, even the ones that no longer exist."

"So, you're annal-retentive, huh?" I asked. Everyone looked at me
blankly except Tananda. "Forget it. Do you have any­thing about Calypsa
here rescuing her grandfather?"

"I have an infinite number of possible outcomes of that quest," Payge
said. "See page 4,000 for the branching chart, a fold-out supplement.
Too many variables still remain for me to have a definitive opinion in
print."

"Your pages change all the time?"

"Naturally."

"You know what we're trying to do?"

"Indeed, I do. I was following Calypsa's account as she narrated it to
Froome. I must say, she does not deviate by so much as a comma, from
telling to telling. I could scarcely have done better myself."

"Thank you," Calypsa said.

"You are welcome. That is not to say, it becomes tedious on hearing it
retold time and again," Payge continued. "In my chap­ter on Compelling
Narratives, I suggest varying the pace and perhaps the details of your
account once in a while—not sacri­ficing accuracy, mind you, but
omitting certain facts and stress­ing others depending upon one's
audience. In Froome's case, you were fortunate, since he wants ALL
details. That made him a most apt pupil. I can't hope to find one so
promising this century. Unless," he eyed Calypsa, "you have a good ear,
you are loquacious, and you're certainly trainable. Are you interested
in applying yourself to an advanced degree in literature?"

"Back off, book. She is my protege," Ersatz said.

"Ah." Payge paused. "Yes, it is so written, in the Current Events
section between pages 300-600. Alas. I did not expect to succeed, but
there are still branches left in the tree of events. I need to study. I
need peace and quiet!"

"Look, are you going to cooperate with us, or not?" I said. "You've
wasted almost five days of our time. If we don't get out there and find
the Purse and the Ring in the next few days, Calypsa's granddad is history."

"I am so sorry," the Book said. "I am simply suffering from information
overload. Sometimes I just can't keep up with it. I promise, I will
cooperate. Very well, I am at your service. I confess myself terrified.
I know too well what Perverts are capable of doing. My pages are full of
accounts containing page-curling details."

I snorted. "You shouldn't believe everything you read, chum," I said.
"I've never tortured a book that didn't deserve it."

"If I have gotten my facts wrong, I wish to correct them. We are going
up against Barrik, who has imprisoned Calypso against his will? That has
not changed?"

"It hasn't," Calypsa said.

"What is the plan? I haven't found one among the infor­mation I have
been accumulating about you three and my old colleagues."

"There is no plan," I said, firmly. "We're gathering you all together.
We take you to Barrik. He frees Calypso. End of story."

"But.. .you are gathering the finest force the universe has ever known,
to be bartered as if we were a set of the Encyclo­pedia Gnomica?"

"Not my deal, Bub. I'm just doing what the little lady here wants."

The sapphire eyes slewed wildly to Calypsa and back to me.

"But advise her differently! Are you prepared for the con­sequences of
what will occur if we are put into the hands of a tyrant?"

"Oh, he'll be out of there like a shot once the deal is done," Asti
said. "He won't stay around to see the results of his ac­tion. The girl
is /paying /him, Payge. Actually, it's Ersatz's fault. What was the debt
you incurred?"

"One hundred to set me free from the merchant who held me," Ersatz
recited. "Then there is reimbursement for the out­lay for the cases..."

I was tired of hearing that litany.

"What's wrong with a straightforward transaction?" I de­manded. "You
wanted a fancy slipcover to work with us. You got it. I'm waiting for my
payoff." I turned to the book.

"Kelsa said you know all the spells in the universe."

"If it has been written, then I know it," the book said, without a trace
of modesty. "At the moment you are my mas­ter, since you extracted me
from the library. What spell is it you wish to know?"

I hated saying it out loud again, but this was one of the two treasures
that Kelsa had promised could help. "I lost my powers. I want them back.
What's the spell to restore them?"

"Not so fast, not so fast!" The Book rustled his pages. "That's not as
simple as it sounds! I will need to know all there is to know about the
circumstances regarding the loss of your powers. Then I can search
through my indices to find

the appropriate incantation, and lists of the ingredients for potions
and so on that will effect the cure. You can tell me all as we travel,
for I see within my annals that Kelsa is about to give us direction to
find our next colleague."

"Why, you almost sound prescient, dear!" the Crystal Ball exclaimed.
"You're right, of course. I keep forgetting that the depths of your
scholarship reach into the future as well as the past. It's not as good
as actually being a seer, of course, but you make such educated-sounding
guesses..."

"Don't you have the whole story somewhere in you?" I asked, interrupting
Kelsa's inevitable flow. Payge's dingbat turned upside down into the
semblance of a frown.

"I have a brief retelling, but I need every detail that you can recall,
scents, lighting, impressions, all in your own words, of course."

"Go ahead, Aahz," Tananda said, encouragingly. "What's the harm in
telling it one more time? This could be the last."

I disliked going over the circumstances that had lost me my powers, but
it sounded like I had no choice. Giving Tanda a quelling glance, I took
a deep breath, and began.

"Up until that day I'd always liked Garkin. He had the same kind of
sense of humor I had..."

Chapter 18

"ALMS, MISTER, ALMS!" Another one of the skinny, ruddy, toadlike people
grabbed for my ankle. He was wearing only a loincloth and a headcloth.
His bulgy eyes rolled up at me ap­pealingly. I growled.

"Just kick him off," Kelsa advised. "They expect it."

I had already done so. -

"I don't need you to tell me that." I looked around me. "What a dump."

The city of Sri Port, largest population center in the di­mension of
Toa, stretched out in all directions except up. Most of the
mud-and-straw buildings, once painted in bright colors and now faded by
the sun, were less than three stories, and most of them were in
conditions so wretched that no one would want to live in them unless
they had absolutely no choice. From the look of the locals, they /had
/no choice. I couldn't estimate the population, but I had to guess it
was in the mil­lions or tens of millions of hairless, froglike
individuals, who shared their homes with skinny ruminants that chewed on
the weeds that grew in the mud. Sri Port looked like the summer home of
at least two of the Four Horsemen of the Apoca­lypse. The sun beat down
through a haze of humidity thick enough to swim in. I glanced back at
Calypsa, who was pick­ing her way daintily through the piles of garbage,
dung and broken bricks that obstructed the narrow path between
build­ings. Behind her, Tananda kept an eye on anyone who might be
following us. She was fondling the blade of a knife with a deliberate
thumb. The Toadies standing in doorways or stump­ing through the narrow
alleyways glanced at her and hastily away again. I grinned. She could
look plenty formidable when she chose.

Strings of laundry swung over our head, flapping in the hot breeze.
Noise battered at our eardrums, smells clawed at

our nostrils, and the locals bumped into us at every possible turning.
The streets and alleyways were far too narrow for the crowds. Following
Kelsa's directions, I led the way, shoulder­ing through locals arguing
with one another, bargaining, woo­ing, bullying, child-disciplining,
praying, playing, begging, gos­siping, and more bargaining.

Allowing for the difference in the physical form of the locals, Sri Port
looked precisely like the Bazaar at Deva, if you sucked out all of the
money from the latter.

"A donation, good sir, a donation for the poor and blind child of
leprous drunkard!" A skinny, purple, clawlike hand reached up to me from
a collection of filthy rags.

"He's lying," Kelsa said, cheerfully. "He's not blind, of course, and
neither parent has leprosy. Actually, his mother has a degree in dental
hygenics from the University of Sri Port, but they are having trouble
keeping up with the mortgage on their little apartment. No cost of
living increase this year, or for the last three years, for that matter.
The dentist can't af­ford to give her one. He's having trouble with HIS
mortgage, by the way. Shagul, here, begs after school, but he really
should be home doing his book report. It's due tomorrow morning."

A pair of goggling eyes glared hatred out of the folds of cloth. "The
curse of the Thousand Gods be upon you!"

"Go do your homework," I snarled, lunging toward him. He crabwalked
hastily backwards away from me, scrambled to his feet, and ran.

"Now, this one /is /poor," Kelsa went on, as we walked by a female
dressed in a swathe of patched but clean cloth. "You've got a small
silver piece in your purse. Drop it on the melon-seller's wagon as we go
by. She'll pick it up."

I didn't like having anyone dictate what I did with my money, and I'd
spent plenty already in the service of the Golden Hoard. Besides, I
already had a coin in my hand I'd been plan­ning to drop in the shabby
female's way. I'm not a total miser, no matter what you might have heard
about me before. I brushed my hand over the rail of the cart, leaving
the dona-

tion on the splintery plank. I didn't look behind me, and I wouldn't
meet Tananda's eye. I could tell she was grinning. I cursed all magikal
treasures and Trollops.

"This is it!" Kelsa announced, as we shoved through the throng into yet
another crumbling city square. The buildings here were just as
dilapidated as the others, but the people here, by and large, were
smiling. A lot of them squatted in the dirt in front of a low,
more-or-less whitewashed building with big holes in the walls and a
holey pink curtain for a door. "That's the place."

"You could buy the whole house for a Devan nickel," Tananda said,
letting out a low whistle.

"The Purse is /there?" /Calypsa asked, in disbelief. "The source of
unending wealth is in that hovel?"

"That's what we're going to find out," I said. "Either the person who's
got it doesn't know how to use it, or it's a fake. We've got to check it
out."

Tananda grabbed my arm. "Aahz, if that's their source of income, we
can't just march in there and take it away from them. Look at the
condition of this city!"

"I'll make up my mind when I see it. Come on."

When we started to cross the square, the Toadies hang­ing out in front
of the white building sprang up. Three of the biggest breasted up to us.
They stood maybe as high as my collar bone.

"Who do you think you are? We were here first! Wait your turn!"

"Who do you think YOU are?" I demanded. "I'm a peace­able kind of guy,
so get out of my way before I stomp you into the dirt!"

"Please, please," a low, musical voice said from the door­way. "No
fighting here! This is a place of peace. Raniti, how rude you are! Can't
you see that these are guests? All who come here are welcome."

The crowd, which had clearly been spoiling for a good fight, all settled
down into their crouches once again, grumbling under

their breath. The speaker came out and took my hand. She was a very
short, very wrinkled, old Toady in a swath of much-mended cloth and a
head veil. She didn't seem particularly special to look at, with an
unusually wide mouth and a flat nose, but there was fire in those bulgy
eyes. I was impressed in spite of myself.

"Come in, come in," she said. "I am Sister Hylida, abbess of the Toa
Ddhole Mission. Welcome, welcome!" She ges­tured toward the door.

There seemed to be as much deconstructed architecture in­side as out,
but it was arranged better. Two bricks propped up a vase with a broken
foot. A shrine at one end had been put to­gether out of pieces of carved
marble, detritus from a number of different temples, each with its own
idea of ornamentation.

"Ugh, what a stench! They're using dung fires," Calypsa said, in a low
voice.

"I think it's the food," Tananda whispered back.

"Reminds me of Pervish cooking," I said. The smell was making me hungry.

A couple of skinny Toadies in loincloths hurried to spread out a few
straw mats over the packed dirt floor for us to sit on.

"May I offer you cool water and a cloth to wash your hands?" Sister
Hylida asked. The toadies hurried over with a chipped ewer and
mismatched clay cups. I held mine in both hands, keenly aware of the
solid gold, gem encrusted, magikal goblet in the custom-made carrying
case next to me on the mat.

The toadies hunkered down near the far wall as Sister Hylida squatted
down with us. I heard curious whispers and giggles, and realized that
faces were peering in the door and through the holes in the wall.

"Our business is private," I said.

"You will find that privacy is rare here," Hylida said. "But we can try
to find some." She waved away the eavesdroppers with a little smile. The
faces behind the wall retreated a few feet. I hoped they didn't have as
keen hearing as Pervects did.

She glanced at the sword lying half-sheathed across Calypsa's knees.
"You won't need that here. What a beautiful weapon it is, though."

Pervects are not normally concerned with the concept of 'an
embarrassment of riches.' I don't usually have quibbles with who owns
what. If I want something that belongs to some­one else, sooner or later
I'll figure out a way to get it. But this entire city seemed to be dirt
poor, and here we had come clank­ing in with enough wealth to buy the
whole place, mineral rights and all, looking for probably the only thing
of value remaining. I felt like a rat as I cleared my throat.

"Look, we're not from around here," I began. "We're on a mission..."

"You are? Blessings be upon you from the Thousand Gods!" The little
sister jumped up from her cloth and ran to the altar. She lit a stick of
incense at the small tin brazier and stuck it in a dish full of sand in
front of a tattered poster containing a myriad of images, no doubt her
thousand gods, and chanted a tuneless wail that went up and down the
scales like a cat's love song. Two of the acolytes ran in and began
shaking sistrums and banging tambourines. My eardrums twisted at the
noise. Hylida concluded her prayer and sat down again. "I am so happy to
hear that. Most outworlders who find their way here are lost. How may I
serve you upon this mission?"

It was an unmistakable opening, but I couldn't take it. I opened my
mouth. Nothing came out.

Ersatz jumped in. "My good friend Aahz wishes to tell you that he
requires you to give us the Purse of Endless Wealth, which we judge to
be in your possession. That is the sum of our task in this place."

"How can you just blurt that out?" Tananda asked him. The steel-gray
eyes rolled toward her on the visible portion of the blade.

"It is the next step in our task to save Calypsa's grandfa­ther, is it
not?" Ersatz asked, reasonably. "Mistress Hylida asked

us, and since friend Aahz appears to be tongue-tied, I have taken the
step of saying the words for him. That is what you wish, isn't it?"

"Not very subtle, are you?"

"Subtlety wastes time," Ersatz said, unperturbed. The eyes turned to our
hostess. "Well, mistress? Do we seek the Purse here in vain?"

Hylida clapped her hands. "I have seen a wonder today! A sword that
talks! Is that your request, green-scaled one?"

I felt doubly stupid, now. "Uh...yeah. That is it."

"Then I am happy to tell you you have succeeded! Chin-Hwag /is /here."

"Oh, yes, Aahz," Kelsa said. "I told you I saw her. Would I lie?"

"Lie, no," Asti said, exasperatedly. "Be mistaken, con­stantly."

"I always see true! Much better than someone who poi­sons people by
accident!"

"If you don't mind," the Book said, aheming for attention, "but I have a
record of /all /of your errors over the centuries..."

"More wonders!" Hylida said, happily. "A Book that talks! Brothers and
sisters, we must celebrate!"

The Toadies jumped up again, and began dancing, more vigorously than
before. The people outside rose and started shouting. They banged pots
and pans together, shook mara-cas, and danced all around the square.

Bam! Boom! Zing! Bom!

"Stop it!" I shouted. No one paid any attention to me.

"Hey, this is fun!" Buirnie said, through his little window. "Mind if I
join in? Zildie, from the top! A-one, a-two, a-three..."

The spotlight hit his case. The nimble leg of the drum flicked it open,
and the Flute joined in the chanting on the backbeat. The people stared
at the solid-gold Fife for one moment, then accepted it as yet another
miracle to celebrate. He led them in singing a rondo with a catchy
rhythm. I sat with my arms folded, waiting for it all to blow over, but
Calypsa

started to get into it. She sprang up and started to dance, kick­ing and
twirling. The locals grabbed her hands and swung her into their circle.
The noise reached epic levels.

"Enough, already!" I bellowed.

Buirnie's playing died away with a whine.

The crowd paused to stare at me.

I glared at Sister Hylida. "If this is what you call private, then I
want to see what you call an open town meeting!"

"Oh, it is an event of even /greater /enjoyment," the Toady nun said.
She signed to her people to sit down. They groaned their disappointment,
but they sat. Buirnie glared at me from underneath his spotlight. "But
you were asking about Chin-Hwag. She has been my companion for several
years now, and a great help to me in my mission. We help the poor and
serve the hungry here. You see?"

She waved toward another ragged curtain. Beyond it was a room larger
than the one we sat in. Several Toadies stirred huge, dented kettles
over glowing embers. Steam rose from the pots. The aroma we had noticed
on the way in came from there.

"We share good fortune as well as bad here," Hylida said, placidly. "But
do not worry. No one will speak of what they see and hear in this place."

I didn't believe that, but I didn't have time to argue. We had business
to accomplish and a road to hit. I cleared my throat.

"Abbess, we want to be fair. What will you take for the Purse?"

At my question, protests rose from the Toadies squatting in the house
and outside the broken walls.

"Sell Chin-Hwag? I could never sell her!" Sister Hylida rose and removed
a slab of plaster from the wall next to the altar. Behind it was a small
alcove. I nodded approval. It would be hidden from potential thieves—who
would suspect that the greatest fortune in any dimension might be
concealed in those crumbling walls?—but easy to grab if the sister had to

evacuate her soup-kitchen in a hurry. "You must see her, of course. Here
she is."

I expected a kind of shapeless bag, but the Endless Purse of Money was
an inch-thick octagon of leather about six inches across, stitched
together from strips of a very smooth hide that had been dyed ochre. A
good deal of the surface was covered with silk embroidery so fine that
it would take a magnifying glass to admire the detail. It wasn't pretty,
but it was intricate. I realized that it was studying me as keenly as I
was studying it. Just like the other treasures, Chin-Hwag's intelligence
was out there where anyone could see it. A couple of embroidered
horizontal ovals above the pull-strings around the mouth narrowed, and
the purse-strings moved.

"By all that jingles, a Pervert! You keep your scaly hands off me,
greenboy!"

Hylida looked scandalized.

"Watch your language, Chin-Hwag, he is a visitor!"

The embroidered eyes shifted.

"I can see what he is—a member of one of the greediest races in all the
dimensions, after Deveels and a few other born felons. Find out what he
wants, then send him away, swiftly."

"You misunderstand him," Calypsa said. "Aahz is most kindly helping me.
He has no thoughts of wealth on his own behalf."

"Oh, don't listen to her," Asti interrupted. "He /is /out for money."

"Only what he is owed, by a debt of honor which I in­curred," Ersatz
said. "On behalf of our employer, whom you will come to know as a worthy
being."

"Thanks a lot," I said.

The embroidered eyes moved around. "By clink and clank, Ersatz! I
thought I felt my insides twisting! How many of you are here?"

"Five of us," Kelsa said. "Almost all of us who still exist."

"How peculiar and unwelcome a notion!" Chin-Hwag said.

"That is not very charitable," Sister Hylida said, shaking a finger at
the Purse. The embroidered eyes turned toward her.

"You are not worldly, Hylida. You don't know what these other objects
are like," Chin-Hwag said, the mouth drawing tighter. "In a crisis, they
do too much when a little will do."

"They are still our guests today," the little nun said. She turned to
me. "You must join us for our meal."

"If you don't mind," Tananda said, with a look at Calypsa's face. It was
almost as green as hers. I think the smell must have been getting to
her. "Maybe we can take the Purse and go. We don't want to impose."

The nun's kindly face fell. "I am afraid that I cannot let you take her
just yet. Tax day approaches. The Majaranarana's collectors will be
coming by to assess each of the people you see out there, and take money
from them according to each assessment. They do not have it, so
Chin-Hwag must give it to them. Tomorrow, please, or the day after."

We looked at Calypsa. In spite of her nausea, she was sym­pathetic.

"What do you say, kid? There's only three days left on your deadline."

"Of course we must allow you to help them," the Walt said. "I couldn't
let anyone get into trouble. We are so close. Surely we will find the
Ring in good time."

I didn't like cutting our fudge factor, but I shrugged. "It's your show.
Besides, I could use a square meal."

"Good!" Hylida said. "Then let us have food." She clapped her hands.

"Who's the Majaranarana?" I asked.

"Oh, he is the absolute monarch of our land," Hylida said, as the
Toadies ran around and laid out huge bowls and spoons at each place.
This looked promising, since we hadn't eaten much in the last few days.
"Our land produces much wealth' crops, minerals, silk, machinery, but
very little of it benefits us. All of our profits are taxed heavily."

"Are you at war?" Ersatz asked, with a expert's eye on her.

"No! But our neighbors look at us greedily. The Majaranarana has been
using all the money to pay off the other rulers, to keep them from
thinking about invading." She sighed. "It might have been better to have
raised an army when he could afford one. Now he wrings all he can out of
the people. We cannot go on much longer in this fashion."

In the meantime, one of the servers set a big kettle of stew down next
to me. I inhaled appreciatively. It tasted like /farkasht /fritters, a
dish that my grandmother used to make, except none of the components
wriggled. Too bad. It was the closest I'd found to Pervish cooking in a
hundred dimensions. I scooped the contents into my bowl and started eating.

"All right, everyone, dinner is served!" Hylida said. Pointed silence
descended. I glanced up from my meal.

"What?" I asked.

Tananda tilted her head meaningfully toward the bowl in front of her.
Another server had ladled some of the stew into it, about enough to
cover my palm. I looked at Calypsa's bowl. In it was also a single,
meager scoop of food. If I judged by proportion, the pot I had just
emptied was supposed to have fed about a hundred people. I felt like an
idiot. Why did these people use such huge dishes if they weren't going
to fill them?

"Uh, sorry."

"What an appetite!" Hylida said. She looked pleased.

"Like feeding a garbage disposal," Asti exclaimed.

"Nothing would surprise me about Perverts," Chin-Hwag agreed.

"I have records of feasts where they've eaten whole vil­lages!" Payge
said. He turned terrified blue jewel eyes toward me. "I mean, the
contents of their larders and their animal pens, not the people.
I...please don't tear my pages out."

"Knock it off!" I said. I turned to Hylida. "Sorry for the inconvenience
.I'll make it up to you."

The nun smiled. "I do not mind. You were so apprecia­tive of the flavor
of our cooking. I do not see that very often. Usually my clients are
just grateful to have the food,

they do not care what it tastes like. It is charity, *but *they still
complain."

"There, you see? He didn't even wait to see what it tasted like." Asti
snorted.

"All right," I snarled, glaring down on her. "Knock it off! I deserve
this one, but I'm fed up with getting /tsuris /from you on preventable
faux pas. Why didn't you warn me?"

"Not my job," Asti said, smugly. "Why didn't the Dumbstone do it? She's
the one who sees the future."

"Because he was meant to do it," Kelsa said. "He was hungry! You ought
to be more compassionate about that. How can you think clearly on an
empty stomach?"

"Thanks a bunch, Kelsa." I wasn't that grateful. I was smart­ing at the
humiliation. The Toadies in the wall were staring at me in open admiration.

"He ought to live more in the life of the mind," Payge said.

"If I was made of paper, that would be easy," I grumbled.

"What can we do about the people who are waiting to eat?" Calypsa asked,
politely.

"We're not here to solve all their problems," I said.

"But that /is /what we do," Kelsa said.

"Not today."

"Oh, but, Aahz, we must!" Calypsa pleaded.

I gave in.

"Can I get raw materials from somewhere else?" I asked Hylida.

She spread her hands sadly. "There are no other supplies, I am afraid.
The crops have been bad, and we have few farmers who bring their surplus
into the city."

Now I felt really bad. I got up, reaching for the D-hopper in my pocket.
"I know. There's a good pizza place in the Ba­zaar. They deliver. They
can be here in half an hour. I'll be back. What do you think, about a
hundred pies?"

"My goodness, a Pervect who sees beyond his own needs!" Chin-Hwag
exclaimed. "Do you actually feel shame? I am impressed."

"Shut up, sister," I said. *"I *may *need your help, but *you *don't
*get to slam my character."

"Forgive me! I have never before met a Pervect who had one!"

I turned my back on her and set the D-hopper for Deva.

"Don't go," Asti said, just before I hit the button. "I'll feed them.
Let them drink from me. They will find enough suste­nance to strengthen
them for a week."

Hylida bowed deeply to the shining goblet. "That will help us mightily.
We usually cannot afford more than basic needs."

"That doesn't make sense," I said. "If you have Chin-Hwag, and she'll
cough up whatever you need, then why are you so desperate?"

Hylida smiled. It was a saint's smile. I could see why the people around
there worshiped her. "It is not money we need here, but heart. The
people here are poor. They can't afford new clothes, or household goods,
or even wigs."

"Wigs?"

"Oh, yes. They are a status symbol in Toa. We cannot ask Chin-Hwag for
these things. A sudden influx of too much money would only cause
confusion and break down the bounds of the current society, with nothing
to replace it. In measured amounts, they still strive to care for
themselves. It is a matter of pride."

Asti seemed to square her shoulders.

"Let's get this over with," she said. "I haven't had to pitch in like
this since the cooks burned the Grand Trompier's wed­ding feast in the
palace of Belaj."

But before the soup-line could begin, the jingle of metal and the
thundering of hoofbeats made the Toadies leap up. "Run away!" they shouted.

"What's the problem?" I asked. Hylida looked grave.

"The tax collectors are here," she said.

Chapter 19

INTO THE SUDDENLY-CLEARED square galloped a troop of riders. The steeds,
pulling to a halt in a cloud of dust, looked like giant blue newts,
saddled and bridled with scaly leather trimmed with gold. The barding
protecting their soft underbellies was studded with hooked spikes. The
ar­mored and helmeted Toadies mounted on their backs bran­dished spears
with hooks on the ends like the canes vaude­ville theater owners used to
yank unsuccessful acts off stage. One of them caught a little Toady
woman in pink by the neck. They hauled her in.

"Tax time!" he shouted gleefully.

"I don't have any money!" the woman protested. "Please let me go!"

I started outside. I was twice the size of any of the sol­diers. I could
get her free. Hylida grabbed my arm with a virtu­ally weightless claw.

"Do not interfere," she said. "It only makes it worse."

The guards dragged their prisoner before the most elabo­rately-dressed
Toady, one wearing a huge blond wig that stuck out from underneath his
helmet like a cloud of steel wool.

"Name?"

"Ranax, sir," the woman sobbed.

The captain took a small plastic tablet from his saddlebag and jabbed at
the screen with a stylus. It hummed and clicked, and a plastic strip
rolled out of the top.

"Ranax. Your family owes six silver pieces!" The tablet chittered, and
the strip grew to about three inches. He tore it off and thrust it
toward her. The little female took it in trem­bling hands.

"I.. .I will have to go home for the money, sir!"

The captain aimed a finger, and the guards dropped her from the hook.
The Toady woman waddled out of the square

as fast as her thick little legs would carry her. The guards went after
an elderly male.

I heard a minor hubbub behind me. Ranax wriggled in through one of the
large holes in the wall, and was kneeling before Sister Hylida and
Chin-Hwag. She must have gone around the corner and come back through
the rat's maze of alleys.

"Let me see, six silver pieces, at the current rate of ex­change..." the
Purse said, clicking the beads on her strings together like an abacus.
/"Hack! Ugh! /There you are." She opened her mouth and spat a tiny gold
coin into Ranax's outstretched hand. "Don't drop it!"

"No, I will not. Thank you, sister!" Ranax left the way she came. As she
exited, two more of the tax-collectors' victims squirmed inside. For the
next few hours, Chin-Hwag coughed up a mix of small coins to satisfy the
demands. The captain read off his demands from the little screen in
silver, but the Purse produced only gold coins, some so small they could
get lost underneath my fingernails. The Toadies clutched them and ran
out to pay.

"How long does this go on?" I asked.

"Until they have checked off everyone on the list," Hylida said. Her
eyes widened. "Oh, hide!" she said, suddenly. "They are coming this way!"

The Toadies still in the room dove for one of the exits. Tananda,
Calypsa and I grabbed up the Hoard and followed them, but we weren't
fast enough. The armored newts spotted us. They bellowed. Their riders
turned to see what they were looking at.

"Strangers!"

"Take them!" the captain shouted.

Waving their hooks, a couple of the biggest Toadies turned their newts
toward me. I ducked as they galloped past. When I sprang up again, I saw
they had hooked one another. I grinned, but it didn't last for long.
Another soldier came thundering my way, spear at the ready.

"Oil, fast," I ordered Asti. "Make it slippery."

"What? All right." The Cup filled with a viscous green liq­uid. I tossed
it out under the feet of the onrushing lizard. Its beady eyes widened,
but it was too late to backpedal. Its front feet slid forward, with the
back feet still windmilling. It did a respectable death spiral, whirling
with its head between its feet. I would have awarded them six points,
but the rider went flying into the nearest tent. It collapsed under him.

"Next time keep your knees clenched!" I jeered at him.

I felt a poking sensation at my back. I turned to see a dozen other
soldiers, still securely in their saddles, pointing spears at my back.
Slowly, I lifted my hands in surrender.

They had already rounded up Calypsa and Tananda. I clutched Asti, hoping
that she would have the sense to keep her lip zipped. All I needed was
to have the treasures confiscated when we were so close to having
collected the whole set.

"How dare you assault my officers?" the captain asked, staring down at
me. "I am Captain Horunkus of the Royal Collection Agency!"

"Well, Horunkus, if someone told you that wig made you look like Shirley
Temple, you ought to sue them," I advised. "I am Aahz, Royal Magician of
the Palace of Vaudeville!"

"A royal wizard," he said, but he didn't sound too impressed. His eyes
were pinned on Asti and Payge. "You are strangers! /Rich /strangers."

"What about it?" I snarled, flexing a claw or two. "Try and take these,
and we'll make your lives miserable. Didn't you see how we bested half a
dozen of your best men?"

"I did notice...Er, did you not know that to visit this es­teemed city
of Sri Port, you must pay a visitor tax? You must have a tourist visa to
be here!"

"No one sold us one at the gates," I said. That was true, after all.

I could see him making a mental note that the excise offic­ers manning
the gates were to be awarded one horse-whipping

each, or whatever penalty they used around there. Horunkus curled his
upper lip.

"Well, then, I will collect it, so you do not have to go to the trouble
of returning to the gate where you entered." He wrote energetically on
the electronic tablet in his hands. "Yes. Half a gold piece each, please."

The 'please' was punctuated with a jab from the spears.

"Watch it, buddy!" I snarled. "I can't reach my wallet if you're poking
me." I hastily stuffed Asti back in her bag, and tucked Payge under my
arm. I tried to be discreet about the contents of my purse, but this
Toady must have had some Deveel blood in him. At the chink of coin, he
perked up still further.

"You are also carrying goods of more than five gold pieces in value.
Those artifacts in your possession are worth more than that, are they not?"

"What if they are?" I asked.

"Please submit an estimate of their current market value." "Why, they
are priceless!" Calypsa said. "Do you not know that this is the great
sword..."

"Hsst!" I hissed at her. "Ix-nay on the eech-spay!"

Her potion-based language talent struggled for a moment, but
enlightenment finally dawned upon her face. "I am so sorry, Aahz!" she
said. "I wished but to extol the virtues..."

"Don't extol. Don't talk. They're gold-plated goodies, Horunk," I said.
"Street value, about five gold pieces each. The sword's just a letter
opener. Nothing special. In the mar­kets of Bupkis, you can find stuff
like this in every stall."

"Lying to me will cause the items to be confiscated at once!" Horunkus
boomed, as much as an overgrown toad can boom.

"You try and take them," I said, showing all my teeth. The soldiers
holding the spears on me backed up a pace.

"You're the ones who are armed," the captain roared at them. "Keep him
under guard!"

"I swear on my mother's grave, Horunk, these are junk!" I said.

"Who are you calling junk?" Ersatz boomed.

"Who said that?" the captain demanded, looking around.

"She did," I said, pointing at Tananda. "She's a ventrilo­quist. She's
an entertainer who travels with me to amuse me."

"Take the goods into safe-keeping," Horunkus said. "If they lack value,
as you say they do, then they will fail the stan­dard assay test."

"You can't take them!" Calypsa brayed.

"Why not?" Horunkus asked.

"I thought I told you to zip it!" I whispered to her. "Now, captain," I
said, my voice at its most silky, "you wouldn't want it getting around
that Sri Port's officers rob travelers under the guise of determining
the value of the goods they're carrying, do you? That'd dry up your
import stream in a matter of weeks."

I didn't think I had come across the only honest politician I had ever
met. He had almost certainly been on the edge of doing exactly that. I
wanted him to know that I knew, and that unless he locked me and my
friends up, we'd certainly spread the word. Horunkus didn't want to be
responsible for losing any part of the revenue coming in, if Hylida's
description was accurate. Horunkus's warty brow drew down under the
ridicu­lous blond wig.

"Of course we are honest with travelers!" Horunkus pro­tested, a little
too readily. "I will estimate the market value myself, then. Five gold
pieces each, times five items." The tape rolled up and curled over the
top of the tablet. "And you say that they come from this Bum-kiss?"

"Bupkis," I corrected him. "But for you, Bum-kiss is ap­propriate."

He didn't get the insult. "Then you are also subject to im­port tax.
That is another seventeen percent. Payable on de­mand." He tapped some
more numbers into his machine. "And there will be a transportation tax
of four gold pieces each..."

"We /walked."/

"Hmm. Road use tax. You used the roads, I assume?" He peered at me over
the top of his tablet.

"We're magicians! We came in by magik!"

"Right here? To this space?"

"I saw them come through the market," a small Toady said, running up to
Horunkus's stirrup. He made a face at me and stuck out my tongue. It was
Shagul, the kid Kelsa had pointed out to me. If I could have reached the
little brat at that mo­ment, I would have wrung his neck, but two of the
soldiers poked me in the neck with their spears. "One of them's a
sooth­sayer! She told me to go and do my homework!"

"I see," Horunkus said, and pursed his mouth. "Well, then, you will need
a permit for fortunetelling."

"We're not opening up shop here!"

"But it sounds like you have already delved into other people's business
here."

"It was just a passing remark."

"And penalty for humil...I mean, assaulting the guard. Unless you would
rather serve time in the Royal Penitentiary instead?"

The guy had absolutely no sense of humor. "Aw, come on, it was just a
little rough-housing!"

"Disturbing the peace," Horunkus said, writing more on the tablet in his
hands. I was getting more and more torqued off as the strip on the top
of the tablet grew longer.

"That comes to a total of thirty gold pieces, eight silver. Payable upon
demand." He tore off the strip and handed it to me.

"You're out of your mind," I informed him, looking over the list of charges.

"Insults! Do you wish me to add another penalty, for in­sulting one of
His Lofty Monarch's officers?"

Tananda and Calypsa looked at me. It was hard to argue that he had
caught us red, or rather, gold-handed, since we were standing there
holding the equivalent of an emperor's annual wages. I could have gotten
out of there with the D-hopper, and Tananda had enough magik to travel
the dimen­sions herself, but we would have had to leave Calypsa by

herself in the middle of a troop of unfriendlies. As much as the
alternative pained me, I couldn't do that. I reached for my wallet.
Horunkus's flunky stuck out his palm.

Every coin I had to part with was a death knell to my heart. Every
shining little disk seemed to cry out to me, "Don't send me away!" I
gritted my teeth, because hesi­tating seemed to bring me out in a rash
of jab marks from the guards' swords. One by one, I counted out the
coins. Some of them had been handsomely milled and beauti­fully struck;
others were more timeworn, but precious for their experience in the
universe. It was more painful than I could stand.

"That's thirty," the captain said. "Eight silver pieces."

I felt around in my scrip. I had four silver pieces and a handful of
coppers. I balanced them in my hand against the one remaining gold piece
I had.

"Would you take an IOU?" I asked hopefully.

"I will take cash!"

Very reluctantly, I held out the 31st gold piece. The cap­tain snatched
it from me and dumped all the coins into a heavy leather pouch at his
saddlebow.

"Thank you, stranger," Horunkus said, signing to his men to lower their
spears. "Welcome to Sri Port. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"Hey, wait a minute, what about my change?"

Horunkus gave me an 'are you out of your mind?' look. "I could add on a
'Questioning the authority of the Majaranarana' tax," he said, smugly.

"That's it," I breathed, my ire rising. This guy was due for a
clobbering, no matter what it cost me later.

"Yes, that is it," the nun said, stepping in between us and holding out
a minuscule handful of coins. "Here is the mission's tax payment for the
week. Thank you, gentlemen." She turned me away from the soldiers and
hurried us inside.

"Well, he squeezed us for everything we had," I said, feeling glum.

"I've still got a handful of silver. That ought to hold us for a while,"
Tananda said.

"I don't like going out without walking-around money," I retorted,
peevishly.

"At least the Hoard is safe," Calypsa said. She hugged Ersatz.

"Really, wench," the Sword said, sounding embarrassed.

"Safe for now," I said, with a look over my shoulder at the departing
troops. "I doubt that's the end of it. Horunkus is going to go back and
report what he saw. I'll bet you my two front teeth that before we get
out of here there'll be an attack by 'footpads,' not affiliated with the
government, of course. The longer we stay here, the more likely the
Hoard's going to be in the Majaranarana's treasury sooner or later."

"We'd better get out of here, then," Tananda said. "This place is
indefensible."

"Ah, me," Sister Hylida said. "This never happened when I was at the
Abbey of the Shaor Ming. Because we prayed for any­one who needed us, we
were never asked for taxes or other fees."

"So nobody is supposed to squeeze the Shaor Ming?" I asked.

"Yes," Hylida said, surprised. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," I said. I jingled my wallet grimly. It was too light. I
felt like I had just lost my oldest friends—thirty-one of them.

"Well, I would say it's just about time for you to ask Chin-Hwag for
your fee," Asti's voice broke into my thoughts.

Her taunting tone was just what it took to raise my dud­geon to its
highest setting. I turned to the Purse, cradled pro­tectively in the
Abbess's arms. Everyone was watching me. I took in a deep breath, but it
whooshed out of me like the air from a punctured balloon. I just
couldn't do it, not in the face of the shocking poverty surrounding me.
Besides, I wanted to negotiate in private.

"Fee?" The Purse's mouth moved, the drawstrings wag­ging like skinny
mustaches. "I have no objection. If my friend

Ersatz has agreed on a fee, *I will pay it, but not a dust mote *more.
How much was it?"

I had a figure in mind, but I wasn't going to announce it until the
Sword and I had a chance to confer.

"This job ain't over yet," I said, sidestepping briskly. "You saw what
just happened. I don't know how many more ex­penses I'm going to incur."

The Abbess seemed to read my mind.

"I see. You need to take Chin-Hwag with you. That is fine. I have all
that I need. Take her. Now. It is all right."

"But the tax collector just took everything you had," I said. "You're
flat broke."

Hylida gave me a serene smile.

"I managed to get along before she was here. I'll get along after she is
gone. She has been a wonderful help."

"I have been glad to help one who is a true saint in her time,"
Chin-Hwag said. "You are so unselfish. Never did you ask for anything
for yourself. I feel honored to have been in your service."

Hylida, very moved, came up to touch the Purse.

"You have been a good friend to me and my flock," she said. "Thank you
for giving me confidence when my faith was waning."

"Your faith was what made me happy to contribute to your cause,"
Chin-Hwag said. "I wish more of my proteges were so generous with
themselves and their efforts. How often people forget that material
things are not what is truly important in this world."

The mutual-admiration society meeting was beginning to get on my nerves.
The more the Abbess and the Purse praised each other for selflessness,
the stronger the feeling I got that maybe, just maybe, my personal
priorities were the ones that needed changing. It's not really like I
needed the money. The fact that I didn't have any with me didn't mean I
was tapped out, not by a long chalk. It'd been forever since a hundred
gold pieces changed the decimal place in my bank account. One

thing working with Skeeve had done was to make me and all the other
members of M.Y.T.H., Inc. very rich. Not disgust­ingly, mind-blowingly,
fountains of gold rich, but plenty wealthy enough to buy the hotel if
the waiter won't mix your drink the way you want it.

Hylida turned her brilliant gaze to me.

"I am sure you will be moderate in your requests of my dear friend. You
strike me as a good person, in spite of your bluster. Take good care of
her."

"Uh...thanks," I said. I accepted the Purse, who looked up at me
skeptically. "We'll do the right thing with her."

"We shall all seek to live up to your example," Ersatz said, dipping his
eyes. "Noble lady, I feel enriched for having met you."

"Your name is written in gold in my annals," Payge said. "In future I
will advise readers who need a moral lesson to peruse your story."

Buirnie let out a blast that drew attention to him. His per­sonal
spotlight set him in the most favorable light. "I'll write a song about
you. All royalties will benefit your mission."

"Why, thank you," Hylida said. "That is very generous of you."

I started to say something sarcastic, but Tananda cleared her throat.

"Now, if there's no more interference," Asti said, "I have some people
to feed. Do you mind making them all line up?"

Calypsa and I were both champing at the bit to get out, but every time I
thought of interrupting Asti's soup line, I found I just couldn't do it.
Hungry Toadies came from everywhere to join the line. Whatever the Cup
was serving must have been pretty good, because none of them wanted to
let go of her even when the bowl was empty.

"All right," the Cup said, faintly, as the last of the Toadies staggered
out of the door into the night, replete. "Let's go."

"Right," I said. I glanced down at Chin-Hwag. 'You have any special
implements, gizmos or containers you need us to pack?"

"No," she said cheerfully. "Just stick me in your knapsack anywhere. Not
in your belt. I do not wish to be seen by the locals. It might tempt
them too much. They have been good so far. As long as all of them are
poor, then no one is above anyone else."

Buirnie let out a whistle of protest. "You deserve some­thing, even a bag."

"Pah. I am already a bag. You don't put a bag in a bag. I don't need
anything. I have lived in behind a broken plaster wall for thirty years."

"You can share my satchel," the Book said.

The embroidery rolled in his direction. "That's nice of you, but it
doesn't look like there is much room."

"It is kind of snug," the Book agreed. "But I would be honored if you
would like to room with me."

"Or me!" Buirnie said. "Why, I have lots of luggage. You can have
whatever bag you choose!"

"No, thank you. I think I will fit in Aahz's purse."

"Fine," I said. "Let's just get out of here, all right?" I pulled open
my poke and extracted the tax collector's ticket from it. "C'mon."

"Do not touch me with that," Chin-Hwag said, alarmed. "I am allergic to
plastic."

"You have an /allergy?" /I asked in disbelief.

"There was no plastic in the time that I was made. Nor several other
modern materials, either. That is why I have been glad to be here in
this humble place."

"Suit yourself," I said, tossing the ticket into a trash barrel next to
the food preparation area. "Everyone ready?"

A ragged Toady came running into the mission. He col­lapsed at Hylida's
feet.

"The Majaranarana's men are coming back!"

Chapter 20

THE ARMED NEWTS came galumphing into the shabby square.

"There are a lot more of them than before," Tananda said, peering over
my shoulder. She was holding Kelsa's bag and Buirnie's case. "We need to
/bamf /out of here ASAP. Calypsa, hurry!"

"You!" Horunkus shouted, spotting me in the doorway. "Halt! Stay where
you are!"

I sprang back into the mission, glancing around for Calypsa. She was
there, but she'd picked up a few friends. A number of the tax
collector's men had sneaked in through the holes in the wall. They
surrounded the Walt with lowered spears. Another bunch had rounded up
Hylida and her worshipers. Two of the armored Toadies came up to take
Tananda by the elbows.

Horunkus swung down from his mount and swaggered over to me. I stuck the
purse in my belt to disguise it.

"Nobody open your mouth," I warned them, hoping the Majaranarana's men
hadn't noticed the animated drum stand or the flying light. "Let me do
the talking." I gave the captain my most ingratiating smile. "Long time
no see! What can we do for you, gentlemen?"

The blond bewigged official puffed himself up.

"I have come to collect the taxes. There are more fees you visitors must
pay. Many more fees."

I had just about reached the limit of emotional range I could handle,
almost being ashamed of being greedy in the face of the selflessness of
this dimension's own Mother Teresa, and having my butt kicked around the
block by the Hoard over my shortcomings, on top of already almost
emp­tying my pockets for this blowhard. I leaned toward him, my teeth
gritted.

"Forget it," I said. "I've already coughed up enough."

"Then we start confiscating things." He eyed the treasures distributed
among us. "I think I'll start with that flute."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "Confiscate this!"

I hauled off and socked him in the jaw. Horunkus went flying, but he had
brought plenty of backup.

Before I even dropped my fist, I had five hulking Toadies on my back.
They were more unwieldy than heavy. I bent my knees and flipped two of
them off over my head. They landed on their backs with a crash. Three to go.

Twenty or thirty of Hylida's flock jumped in and started hitting the
fallen with bowls, rocks, anything they could pick up.

"Please!" the little Abbess cried, surrounded by four or five newtsmen,
who were in turn surrounded by more wor­shipers trying to get her free.
"Violence never solved anything!"

"It's sure a handy timesaver, sister!" I shouted.

I swung in a circle. Two of the Toadies stumbled off. I backed the other
three into the wall. Half the plaster crumbled off on their heads. One
of them tried pounding on my head. I grabbed his wrist and flipped him
overhand. He went sailing through the air.

SPLASH!

The Toady guard landed in the pot of boiling stew.

"Auggh!" he shouted, surfacing. He leaped out and dashed out the door.

"Waste of good food," I commented.

Tananda was engaged in a tug of war. Two teams of Toady guards were
pulling at her shoulder bags from either side. She was stretched between
them like a prisoner about to be torn apart by wild horses. Buirnie's
drummer and lighting guy kicked and battered at the guards trying to
steal their boss. The Fife himself was shrieking with fear.

"Don't let them touch me! Roadies! Help!"

"Help!" Kelsa shouted. "These beasts have bad karma!"

I grabbed up a handy bowl and heaved it. It hit the lead guard on the
Buirnie side smack in the face. He dropped like a

stone. With expressions that said that the following action was against
their better judgment, a dozen more lowered their spears and charged at me.

"What do you have that they don't like?" I asked Asti.

"I've barely recovered from feeding the five thousand!" she protested.

"Save the blather!"

"Oh, very well!"

A blue liquid bubbled out of her bowl and dribbled onto the floor. It
smelled like industrial-grade soap. I brandished it at the charging
guards. The leaders windmilled to a stop, and fell back on the spears of
their comrades. I sloshed more of the blue stuff toward them. They
shrieked and ran in the op­posite direction.

"Thanks!" Tananda said, rubbing her shoulders. "My good­ness, I haven't
had to deal with so many aggressive males since Frat Night in Imper."

"Slumming again?" I said dryly. She winked. "What was that stuff?" I
asked Asti.

"Commercial dessicant," Asti said, as the liquid immedi­ately dried to a
crust on the floor. "These creatures need their skins to stay very
moist, or it cracks."

I grinned. "No wonder they don't appreciate the beauty of scales like mine."

"NOBODY appreciates beauty like yours except those who are totally blind!"

Tanda went on guard.

"Look out!"

The warning was unnecessary. I knew that at least eight of the guards
were within a few feet of me.

I spun, brandishing Asti.

"You guys really have to oil your armor if you want to sneak up on
someone," I suggested, sloshing them with the contents of Asti's bowl.
They batted at the stuff with both hands, then looked at their hands in
horror. The webs between their fingers shrank noticeably.

"Agh! Dry skin! Dry skin!"

They backed away from me. I followed, still flinging sludge. They fled,
calling for help. I laughed at them and shouldered aside the curtain
leading to the courtyard.

My eyes widened. The entire square was full of soldiers. At the rear was
a gigantic carriage drawn by four matched newts. In it, a scrawny little
guy wearing a rusty red wig bigger than his whole body.

"What is wrong with you?" the wizened little guy yelled at the soldiers.
"Take them! Bring me the treasures!"

Hylida dropped to her knees. Most of her flock followed suit. "That's
the Majaranarana!"

"Yield to me!" he shrieked, whipping his newts until they charged us. "I
want the gold!"

The soldiers shouted. "For the Majaranarana!"

Buirnie outshouted them. The Fife let out a deafening trill that turned
my ears inside out. The noise set the newts buck­ing and tossing their
heads. Riders were thrown off their backs, including the Majaranarana,
whose carriage flipped wheels-up as the four beasts tried to flee in
several directions at once. The riders tried to grab their mounts, but
the panicked lizards fled out of the square.

Klik, the spotlight, flew up out of reach and shone a blind­ing beam
down on his boss, as Zildie started beating a martial rhythm. Buirnie
blasted out a war song.

I kept spattering soldiers with Asti's special brew. Tananda flitted
from guard, deftly kicking the spears out of their hands or knocking
them flying with a stewpot on a chain she had picked up from Hylida's
kitchen.

Our defiance of the tax authority had awoken something in the Toadies of
the Abbey. They were fighting back, to the as­tonishment of the
soldiers, who obviously were used to bully­ing them whenever they felt
like it. The armored males defended themselves at bay or cowered with
their hands over their heads as gangs of the neighborhood poor battered
at them with pots, pans, rocks, unripe fruit, spoiled food and garbage.
The soldiers

might have been better armed, but they were vastly outnum­bered. It
looked like a cross between a soccer riot and the great pie fight. Poor
Hylida stood huddled against the front wall of her mission, shouting at
people to calm down and stop fighting. It was no use. Her followers were
fed up with their treatment, and were taking probably their one and only
opportunity in their lives to fight back. I tried to get to her, but I
spotted Calypsa in the middle of a ring of soldiers who were still
trying to follow their master's orders and seize the Hoard. She looked
terrified. I started throwing guards out of my way to get to her.

"Draw me!" Ersatz bellowed at her. "Come on, lass! De­fend yourself!
Draw me!"

Almost in a trance, Calypsa dragged the brand over her head. "Now what?"

"Wield me, lass!" he exclaimed. "I will guide you! Your dancer's wiles
are better than a trained fencer's. Forward with right foot! Bring me
around, cut upward! Slash right! Good, lass!" he called out, as the lead
guard's head went bounding across the floor. "Quick, two-step to the
right, /plunge /me be­hind your back! No, POINT first. /Point first!"/

"Ugggh!"

Calypsa turned gracefully on the tip of one toe and found herself
staring at the biggest of the thugs, arms crossed over a belly-wound
that I could tell was fatal.

"She doesn't need you," Asti said.

Ersatz shouted orders, and Calypsa followed them. She swung and danced,
and the long, blue blade flashed in the sun like a pinwheel. To my
surprise, the guards began to fall back.

"You're right," I said. "I'll be dipped in..."

"Help, aid, assistance!" Payge's soft voice suddenly ex­claimed, from my
other side.

I felt something tugging at the straps of the shoulder bag. I tugged
back, and found myself looking into the beady eyes of the Majaranarana.

"Give that to me, or die," he said, showing his rows of jagged little
teeth. At his back were thirty soldiers, most of

them looking pretty beaten up. Still, I couldn't take on thirty of them.
Very slowly, I extended the book bag to him.

"That's better," the scrawny ruler said, flipping open the top and
fondling Payge's spine. Did I imagine it, or did the Book shudder?
"Horunkus, give him the demand."

The captain cleared his throat importantly and raised his electronic
tablet. "You underquoted the value of the goods which you brought into
the Imperial city of Sri Port, and must pay five thousand gold coins per
item that you undervalued."

"Five tho—Not a chance!" I snarled.

Horunkus grinned evilly. "Furthermore, there is a penalty of seven
hundred gold coins per item for lying to officials. Or, if you cannot
produce the cash," he leered at me over the keypad, "you can surrender
said goods into the hands of the tax authority of the Majaranarana
Taricho. Immediately." With a flourish, he tore off the length of
plastic tape and handed it to me. The soldiers loomed closer in
anticipation. "You want gold?" I asked. "I'll give you gold."

I grinned at the Toady, then took the Purse out of my belt and very
deliberately stuck the ticket he had given me in Chin-Hwah's mouth.

The Purse protested.

"No, don't you dare, you Perv—BLEAAAAAAGHH!"

A fountain of coins spurted up out of the pouch sitting on my palm. The
Majaranarana's eyes widened, and he threw him­self at the growing river
of coins. Horunkus, less of a fool than his master, made a grab for the
Purse itself. I slugged him with a kidney punch. He turned, weakly, torn
between the lust for revenge or greed. Greed won. He started trying to
catch coins as they fell from the sky. The plume of glittering gold rose
higher. Soldiers dropped their weapons and joined in the coin-catch. I
turned and shielded my head so I didn't get a faceful of hard little
disks. The roar of the fountain grew louder and louder.

After what seemed like an hour, the deafening rain of coins came to a halt.

"I feel unwell," Chin-Hwag announced weakly.

I looked around. The square had fallen silent. I couldn't see the
Majaranarana or any of his men anywhere. Calypsa stood over a couple of
bodies, covered with blood. Ersatz was clutched in both of her hands. I
grabbed her elbow and hauled her into the doorway of the mission. She
looked dazed.

"I defeated two guards!" Calypsa said, over and over again. Tananda
jumped down from a rooftop and piled in after us.

"Nice work, too," Tanda said, wiping the Walt girl's face with a rag.
"None of this blood is yours. You were terrific! I'd never have dreamed
you have never held a sword before."

"I never lose," Ersatz said, with no attempt at modesty, as Tananda
rubbed him down and restored him to the scabbard on the unprotesting
Walt's back. "But the lass has innate tal­ent. Had she been trained
since birth there'd be no army could stand against her, outnumbered or
no. Ah, once we can begin training you, you will be legendary. Let us
continue against the foe. They shall not take us by force!"

"Forget it," I interrupted them. I stood aside and held open the curtain
so they could see. "It's over."

Chin-Hwag's gold eruption had buried half the square. Hylida's
parishioners stood flattened against the crumbling walls of the
surrounding buildings. Except for our breathing, the whole square was
quiet as a tomb.

I stared at the heap of coins, piled higher than my head. I had never
seen so much money in all my life. /No /king had a treasury like that.
It was astonishing. It was /unreal./

"That," I said hoarsely, "is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen
in my life."

Everyone gazed at it, their shoulders heaving, eyes gleaming.

"Now, let us behave with moderation," Hylida said, addressing her flock
with her hands raised. "Please, show restraint..."

The townsfolk stared at the pile of gold for perhaps three seconds, then
they dove at it, grabbing coins off the heap,

stuffing them into their pockets, purses, bras, hats, whatever would
hold anything, and making off with it before anyone stopped them. Not
that there was anyone to stop them at the moment. The guards were all gone.

The Abbess shook her head sadly. "After all my work. The Majaranarana's
going to be angry."

"Afraid not," I said. I pointed. The swiftly-diminishing pile of coins
in the center had melted away to the point where the bodies buried
underneath it were visible. Hylida came to see. She gasped.

"The Majaranarana! We...we killed him!"

A couple of the Toadies gawked up at her.

"She's the one! She is responsible!"

The crowd surged around her, shouting and waving their arms. A few of
the guards, who had sneaked back into the square to collect some of the
gold and looked shocked to see their monarch flattened on the ground,
drew their swords and homed in on the little abbess.

"Save her," Calypsa begged, as I pulled back toward the shelter of the
mission.

"It'll should all right," Chin-Hwag said. "This has been coining for a
long time. The city could descend into anarchy, but it has been trending
that way for a long while. There might be a few guilty consciences, but
Hylida is innocent. They shouldn't harm her. I /am fairly /certain." The
Purse sounded uncertain.

"Hmmm." I pushed my way into the middle of the crowd and held Hylida's
hand up over her head like a championship boxer.

"She's the one! She caused the miracle! She brought the shower of gold
to punish the greedy despot!"

"Huh?"

I scooped up the hairpiece that had fallen off the deceased monarch, and
plunked it on the head of the confused Sister Hylida. "What you need is
the hair of the frog that fit you," I said. I turned to the crowd. "She
freed you from the tyrant!"

The Toadies swarmed forward, chanting. At the sight of the wig on her
head, even the guards joined in the jubilation.

"Hylida saved us from the tyrant! Hy-li-da! Hy-li-da! She saved us from
poverty. Hy-li-da! Hy-li-da!"

The little Abbess shouted protests, but the crowd surged in around us.
They hoisted her to their shoulders and marched out of the square, still
chanting. I watched them go.

"Let's get out of here," I said to the others. '

"Where?" Tananda asked.

"Anywhere but here. I need a good night's sleep, and I won't get it if
any of them decides they want us in on the coronation ceremony, or
whatever they're going to do once they reach the palace."

"But what about poor Hylida!" Calypsa said. "They will tear her apart."

"No, kid," I said. "She's just become a legendary hero. Unless you want
to be one, too, minus one grandfather, we've got to move. The crowd
looks ready for a celebration that will last a week, minimum."

"Are you sure?"

"I am," Kelsa and the book said at once.

"Look here," Kelsa and the book said at the same time. They glared at
each other.

"They're carrying her, and the crowds are enormous, and you can't
believe...!"

"The fated day has come to pass...!"

/"One /of you tell it," I said. "Payge, talk."

"I don't talk, I narrate," Payge said sourly. "Turn to page 836, and
see. I have just felt an illumination sprout. I think it will tell you
all you need to know."

I hauled the heavy cover over and thumbed through the
heavily-illustrated pages until I found the indicated folio. On a page
that began with an ornate capital I, for "In the heretofore blighted
city of Sri Port, the reign of the tyrant Majaranarana Taricho came to
pass, in the sacred enclosure of the mission of the Banana God Frojti.
Grave was the suffering of the

people of Toa, eased only by the Lady High Lida, whose kind­ness was as
fragrant as the flowers."

"You need an editor," I groaned.

"No commentary, please," Payge said. "I record the ver­nacular."

I continued reading. "The Majaranarana threatened the Lady High Lida
with imprisonment and torture to endure seven years if she did not give
him treasure. Three strangers appeared from nowhere to her aid. A mighty
battle was fought between the two sides. At the end of this battle, the
Majaranarana was buried in a shower of gold. The holy mother superior
High Lida flew overhead to reassure the masses that all would be well.
She was acclaimed ruler of the region, and reigned for forty years in
peace with her people and her neighbors."

"And she lived happily ever after," Calypsa said, with a happy sigh. "I
am glad."

"There they are!" a voice cried. "The holy ones who helped our Hylida
defeat the tyrant!"

A crowd of Toadies came running back into the square, beaming. They held
dozens of flower garlands, and looked as though they intended to festoon
us thoroughly. Tananda threw her arms around me. I grabbed Calypsa by
the shoulder and thumbed the stud on the D-hopper.

Chapter 21

"WHERE ARE WE?" Calypsa asked, looking around at the foul-smelling room.
"Who are they?" She asked, pointing at the reptilian bodies on the
floor. "Are they all right? What are we doing here?"

"Bonhomme," I replied, curtly. "Bonhomies. Yes. Drunk is just about
their natural state of being. They're friendly, and this is a safe place
to get some rest and work out what we're doing next. Any other questions
on this test?"

She recoiled slightly then held her chin up proudly. "That is all I
require to know for the moment, thank you."

"Good," I said.

"I have a bone to pick with you, Pervert," Chin-Hwag said. "What gave
you the idea to thrust the plastic ticket down my throat?"

"I've been around a while," I said modestly. "There are a lot of
dimensions that use a new gizmo that originated in Zoorik, I said,
modestly. "You stick a plastic card in this hole in the wall, and it
spews out cash. It just made sense."

"This is quite modern?" Chin-Hwag asked.

"Pretty much."

"Hum. Then someone in the past must have seen me suf­fering my malady.
You must promise me not to do that again!"

"If you cough up—excuse the expression—what the Hoard owes me, then I
won't have to."

"I have already said I will make good on my fellow Hoarder's debt,"
Chin-Hwag said, her embroidery contracting into a sour expression.

"The overthrow of that miserable Toady might well have happened years
before, if you had acted in a more assertive fashion," Ersatz said
critically. "Why didn't you?"

"You question me?" Chin-Hwag said, slitting her eyes in annoyance. But
she answered in a civil fashion. "She did not

want me to. I have been trying years to persuade her that she was in a
position to take over and rule as a benevolent queen. It was your
precipitate arrival, and your sickening behavior."

"I am not the one who made you suck plastic," Ersatz said.

"You told him my weakness!"

"You told me yourself," I snapped. "Some of us mortals are capable of
putting two and two together, you know."

"So they keep telling me," Chin-Hwag said, with a weary sigh. "Sums are
only one of the things that all of you keep getting wrong."

Now, there's about three dozen rooms in this place. Find one that's
empty and get a little shut-eye. The food's mostly processed
carbohydrates, but there's a lot of it, and no one will mind if you help
yourself. The booze is community prop­erty, but I paid for plenty of it
when I was here last."

"But, Aahz, we cannot rest now!" Calypsa said. "With Chin-Hwag, we lack
only one of the great treasures."

"Aren't you tired?" Tananda asked her, in a soothing voice. She wrapped
an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Tell her, Er­satz. A warrior is
only as good as her preparation."

"Indeed, yes, wench," the Sword said. "Come, let us find a place where
you may settle down and clean my blade, and I shall tell you the story
of the battle of Corepos."

"And I will give you a potion in case that boring old saga doesn't
manage to put you to sleep," Asti promised.

"But there's a great party going on here!" Buirnie exclaimed.

"Knock yourself out," I said. "I'm going to bed."

A warm presence wrapped itself around me and intruded it­self into my
dreams.

"Aahz," a soft voice said.

"Mmph."

"Aahz. Get up. You'll want to get in this."

"Too tired," I said. "Maybe later, sweetheart." Fingers played with my
left ear. I smiled. The fingers took a firmer

hold, then twisted firmly. I sat bolt upright, outraged. "What's going
on here?"

Tananda sat up, looking pleased. "There, I said you weren't too hung
over to wake up."

"Said who?"

"Come on. I think Calypsa's getting confused."

"What now?"

I followed Tananda's curves as they undulated through knots of Bonhomies
blinking against the invasion of daylight. Drinking was on again, as the
sun had hoisted its bleary red self over the yard arm.

"What time is it?"

"Noonish," Tananda said. "Hurry. I'm not making much headway with them."

"With who?"

In the small room behind the frat bar that Calypsa had chosen as her
dormitory for the night, some kind of meet­ing was going on. The members
of the Golden Hoard were arranged in a circle. Klik broadcast a bright
light on them, making them gleam like a Pervect's wildest dreams of
ava­rice. Calypsa sat behind Ersatz, at a respectful remove in the shadows.

"What is going on?"

"A conference of war," Chin-Hwag said.

"What for?"

"We do not care for your strategy, and we are discussing our own."

"WHAT?"

"Sweetie-baby," Buirnie said, placatingly, "we just don't dig your idea.
It's not really us, if you know what I mean. I mean, Aahz! You can't
just hand us over to an evil wizard like a collection of..."

"Artifacts," Payge said, in his gentle voice.

"Why the hell not? Give me one good reason why?"

"With only two days remaining to Calypso's execution, we have no time to
lose," Asti said. "I would expect even a mortal

with your recalcitrant character to understand. Now, please sit down so
we can get on with our strategy."

"We are not yet a full complement," Chin-Hwag reminded them.

"Who's missing, again?" Buirnie asked.

"The Ring," Ersatz said at once. "He is the only member of our coterie
we have not yet located."

"I must have it, or my grandfather will never be freed," Calypsa said,
wringing her hands. "Please, we have little time to lose. Barrik will
lose patience with me!"

"What about it?" I asked Kelsa. "Where is the Ring?"

Kelsa looked apologetic. "I am so sorry," she said. "I have tried time
and time again to locate him, but he must be in the midst of some very
powerful magik. I have received the same sounds, and nothing more. Here,
I'll let you hear them. Per­haps you can gain some clue from them?"

The Crystal Ball turned entirely black. Someone was humming tunelessly,
drowned out by rushing sounds like a stream flowing. I could hear the
clank of metal-on-metal. Nothing else.

We all concentrated on the image.

"Looks like a black cat sleeping in a coal bin," I said. "No good,
Kelsa. Can you bring it in a little clearer?"

"I'm not a television set! This is the best I can do!"

"How about you?" I asked Payge.

"Alas, no. Nothing is written within me about the finding of Bozebos
yet. You can go over the possible scenarios."

"How many?"

"Five thousand."

"Forget it. You people aren't much help. Maybe we can do a little
detective work. We can go to the Bazaar and a few other places who know
where choice jewelry and magik items are being traded around the
dimensions. I'll need a descrip­tion. What's he look like?"

The face under the turban began its eye-bulging antics again, then
vanished. An image started to coalesce in its place inside

the globe. "Here is the ring Bozebos, great circle of eternity. Its
golden band was mined from the same seam that produced the rest of us.
We are brothers and sisters in the metal. The wizard Prumdar fashioned
it in his workshop under a year's worth of full moons. The gems adorning
it are of equal qual­ity, all precious beyond compare. Behold, the
Diamond of Jus­tice! The Sapphire of Purity! The Spinel of Curiosity.
The Cubic Zirconia of Economy..."

"Gaudy, ain't it," I observed.

"That could not possibly be the Ring," Calypsa said, gawk­ing at it.

"Why not?" I asked. "It looks like the mother of all magikal rings. In
fact, it looks like several put together. Iiberace would have loved it."

"Who's Liberace?" Calypsa asked. For a moment I thought about Skeeve,
and how he never got my cultural references, either.

"Never mind," I said. "WHY can't this be the Ring?"

"It cannot possibly be great Bozebos, because it is a piece of junk
jewelry that my grandfather got from his mother, who received it from
her father's mother. He wears it when he does his Dance of Lights."

Tananda and I looked at each other. I raised an eyebrow.

"There is no way that Barrik didn't know that," she said. "I'd bet the
last pair of panties in my underwear drawer."

"If we didn't think this was all a trap before, I'm sure of it now," I
said. "Kid, Barrik has no intention of freeing your grand­father once
you bring the Golden Hoard to him. In fact, if you do it, you'll be
lucky to escape with your life."

"That is the rede of what I have been seeking to convince her," Ersatz
said. "We need an approach that will upset the wizard's plans."

"Grandfather has the last of the treasures!" Calypsa said, absorbing at
last what we'd just spent the last sev­eral minutes telling her. "Then
we must take the rest to Barrik immediately."

"No way."

"But, Aahz! You have been saying all along..."

I cut her off.

"I changed my mind. We can't do it."

"Tananda!" The girl pleaded. "We must go."

Tananda shook her head. "I agree with Aahz. It's a trap. You can't walk
in there and expect a fair deal. You'll hand the Hoard to him, and he'll
have his minions take them away so that he doesn't have to pay off on
his promise. He wants to keep the old man locked up forever, probably to
discourage any other Walts from thumbing their noses, er, beaks at him."

"Then, what shall I do?" Calypsa asked, piteously.

"You have us. We have the power between us to break any stronghold,"
Ersatz assured her. "And with your promise as a swordswoman and me in
your hand, none shall harm you."

"You're thinking of setting her, one inexperienced girl, alone against a
castleful of minions?" I asked disbelievingly.

"I believe that she will not be ALONE," as you suggest so insultingly,
friend Aahz. We will be with her. We shall under­take this rescue
ourselves. Pardon me for my forwardness, Calypsa, but you are
inexperienced in these matters. We will take the lead, if you do not mind."

"Thank you," she said, looking at the Sword with an ex­pression of
admiration and trust.

"Tananda and I have plenty of experience at rescues and dealing with
enemy wizards," I said.

"Perhaps," Payge said, vaguely. "Do you mind not intrud­ing? My
colleagues and I are conferring. All right, sharpie, what is /it you
/think we should do?"

"Hey!" I protested. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Silence, Pervect," Asti said. "This is none of your concern."

I goggled at her. Ersatz's eyes turned pensive.

"A direct assault is the best way, the Sword said, ignoring the Book's
insult. "With me in her hand, I will guide her to defeat the forces of
the stronghold. She can win through to

the sanctuary of the tyrant. He will not be able to stand against us! He
must surrender, in fear of his life."

"To an army of one?" Buirnie asked, with heavy sarcasm. He twinkled at
Calypsa. "No, it would be far better if you and I went in there
together, sweetheart! With your dancing and my singing, we could waltz
in there, excuse the pun, and waltz out again before he knew what we
were doing. We'll get your grandfather out of his jail cell, and 23-skidoo!"

Calypsa let out a wail of sorrow.

"My poor grandfather! That the house of Calypso suffers so!"

"There, there, child," Ersatz said. "I promise, I will assist you to
free him."

"We all will," Asti assured her.

"And just how do you think you're going to do that?" I asked.

The Hoard ignored me.

Payge rustled importantly. "The fact of the old Walt's very captiv­ity
could mean that Bozebos is no longer in his possession."

"Barrik has him!" Buirnie said. "That must be why the villain has
demanded the rest of us. He's decided he wants the entire set! Well,
what's not to like? It has happened in the past, by the masters of
Valhal who first assembled us in one place."

"I have foretold it will happen again before the world's end," Kelsa
said. "More than once. This may be one of the times. In fact, it could
cause the end of the world. Again, it might not."

"How frivolous of you," Payge said. "Calypsa, if Bozebos is in the
possession of your grandfather, then he has no need of rescue, child.
Bozebos is a most powerful magik ring, the most versatile of all rings
ever made. I am surprised that you have never seen a demonstration of
his talents, since he has belonged to your grandfather for so long. The
Ring is not shy about his talent. If he were there, he would have
protected your grandfather. With Bozebos's help, Calypso could have
destroyed the castle, let alone set himself free. Are you certain he /is
/in the dungeon?"

Calypsa looked bewildered. "Why would Barrik lie to me?"

"He /was /taken prisoner, Payge," Kelsa assured him. A pic-ture appeared
in her depths of a Walt who looked like an eld­erly, male version of
Calypsa, chains on his wrists and ankles, being rushed through the gates
of a solid-black castle by a whole troop of long-snouted reptiles in
black capes. "After that, I couldn't say. The spell is blocking me."

"I can counter the spell, with a little research," Payge said. "I am the
one you need to bring with you, Calypsa of Walt. With me in your hand,
you will be as great a wizard as any other that walks the dimensions.
Barrik will not hold your grand­father prisoner for long."

"I've seen those critters before," Buirnie said, studying the reptilian
guards flanking Calypso. "They're from Dilando. The Dile has very
sensitive hearing. I can defeat them with music. They are vulnerable to
my Compulsory Dance music. Mixed with a little of their own war songs,
they won't know what hit them. Zildie, a one, a two, a three!"

He started to blatt out kazoo music. In spite of myself I found my feet
moving. Tananda and I got up and boogied around the room. Calypsa rose
to her feet and started twirling in help­less circles.

"Stop that!" I demanded. He paid no attention to me, but Ersatz bellowed.

"You are making my protege bounce up and down. It is most disconcerting."

"Whine, whine, whine," Buirnie said, but the kazoo music died away.
"It's the answer, I tell you. Calypsa, carry me to the gate of the
castle. I promise that they will be helpless before us."

"That won't unlock the prison cell, you pennywhistle," Asti said. "We
need to take over their minds, and the bodies will follow. I have a
potion, if poured into the well that serves the castle, will make them
your willing slaves. All of them, includ­ing their master, will obey
your every command."

"What if he doesn't drink water?" Ersatz said. "No, you must confront
him, Calypsa. With me in your hand you cannot fail. Kill him, and your
grandfather's freedom is assured."

"A bribe will do better," Chin-Hwag said. "I will deter­mine if the
henchmen are corruptible. Gold will do more to undermine any blood oaths
that they have taken, I promise you. I have seldom met any creatures
who, when acting with free will, would not take the money if they were
certain that they wouldn't be caught."

"Oh, bosh," Kelsa said. "I know where the sewers open up, Calypsa, dear.
I can guide you through to the dungeons. It is the simplest thing."

"I thought you said you could not see through the walls," Payge reminded
her. "I have spells to undo Barrik's obfusca-tion. All I need is time to
search through my memory. I can counter anything that he can throw. I
will render them into your language, and you shall cast them. Have you
ever done magik before, Calypsa?"

"No..."

"Hold hard, friend!" Ersatz said. "She cannot carry us all!"

"No, I fear she cannot. Therefore she must use the object with the
greatest range of usefulness. That would be me."

"How now? You would attempt to suborn MY apprentice?"

I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled.

"Hold it! Hold it!"

The Hoard turned to look at me. Ersatz's eyes fastened upon mine. They
were as sharp as his blade.

"What say you, friend Aahz? We are very busy."

"Busy? You're beating your chops! This doesn't sound like a coherent
strategy. The idea's to break Calypso out of the dungeon, right? You
each have your own plan! There's no co­operation. You're all talking,
and no one is listening. Look, if you tried..."

"Enough," Ersatz said. "This does not concern you, friend Aahz. Pray let
us continue uninterrupted."

They all turned back to their argument.

"I predict victory," Kelsa said. "But, only if you use my talents,
Calypsa, dear. Don't pay attention to the others. I will be able to
foresee your enemy's movements..."

"You cannot even see into the castle!" Ersatz boomed. "I will be your
key and your guide, Calypsa. Follow my instruc­tions. We will succeed!"

"It might be better," Asti said, "if along with you she had something to
protect her weak side."

"If only the Shield still existed," Kelsa said.

"He doesn't?" Buirnie asked, his mouth hole round. "I didn't know.
That's terrible!"

"He fell bravely defending a warrior maiden," Payge said. "I have the
whole tale in section..."

"Never mind," Asti said. "I can brew you a potion that will harden your
skin, girl. It may interfere with your suppleness, but you can't have
everything."

"No one is going to impair MY PROTEGE'S natural gifts!" Ersatz exclaimed.

I couldn't stand it any longer. "You're going to get this kid locked up
or killed! And you call yourselves the greatest magikal items ever made?
I'm NOT impressed."

Asti eyed me then turned to Calypsa.

"Perhaps you should tell your hired help that we do not need his
assistance in order to conquer one small castle and one ordinary mortal
wizard," she said, her voice dripping with icicles.

"Just what do you mean by that?" I snarled.

"Why, that you should take a seat and let us work out what to do.
Calypsa will decide, then she will tell you what tasks you will
undertake. Under our direction, of course."

"You're out of your collective minds!"

"Give them a chance to work out a plan," Calypsa said, pleadingly. "They
have so much experience."

"But not at working together," Tananda said. "At least, not in
centuries, if the story they told us before is accurate. /We're /used to
working together. We combined our talents. As a result, we accomplished
some truly amazing things. Why not listen to us for a moment?"

"You're not going to try and tell me again that you mortals had a
company greater than OURS, are you?" Asti said. "We are legends!"

I leaned over them. "Did you ever think for a minute that we were
legends of a different kind? Ask anyone! M.Y.T.H., Inc. solved some
pretty knotty problems, and we did it by working together. You're each
trying to convince Calypsa that she ought to take you, and the others
can play backup. That's not the way to handle a situation like this.
You're all vice presi­dents with no middle managers."

"If you are afraid you will not receive your reward, Pervect," Payge
said, "rest assured we pay our debts. Once this matter is settled we
will find a way to give you what was promised. Now, if you will, shhh!"

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO SHHH!"

"Now, as for storming the castle," Ersatz began. "It's a dumb idea,
excuse my being blunt," Buirnie said. "Now, my plan..."

"I can show you precedents where spells read by an ama­teur
succeeded...," Payge put in.

"Potions," Asti said. "Potions are the only real answer."

Kelsa rolled her eyes. "Oh, dear, no! Anticipation. That's what is
needed here."

"Appeal to their baser natures," Chin-Hwag said. "All of you are foolish
to think anything else..."

Tananda made a throat-cutting gesture to me. The power was building up
in the room. Even I could feel the floor starting to shake. Two
disasters were brewing, one present and one future, and the Hoard wasn't
paying attention to either one.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I bellowed.

The eyes all turned to look at me.

"I won't take the rewards," I said. "As of this minute, I'm releasing
all claims."

"You don't mean that, Aahz," Tananda said.

"I mean it," I snarled at her, more harshly than I intended. "Don't make
this harder than it's gonna be."

Tananda was an old friend. She understood at once with­out having to
have a long, painful explanation.

"You do not need to refuse repayment, my Pervect com­panion," Ersatz
said kindly. "You are more than worthy of your hire. When we find
Bozebos, then he will surely be able to restore your powers."

"I don't want them back that way," I said, flatly. "You're all experts
in your own field, but you're not presenting a coher­ent strategy. As
long as I am beholden to you for what you promised me, you aren't paying
any attention to me. Well, I am fed up with the way you bicker between
yourselves. It's not getting us anywhere. You don't even know when
you're about to cause a major cataclysm. I'm tired of you treating me
and Tananda like minions. We're professionals, seasoned pro­fessionals.
Calypsa doesn't know anything. You're confusing her. She doesn't know
what to do, and she's going to get hurt because she trusts you. Calypso
has very little time left. Some­one has to take charge, and that someone
is ME."

"What are you saying, friend?" Ersatz asked.

I took a deep breath. "I'm relinquishing it, money, powers, everything.
We're all fighting for the same thing, now, setting Calypsa's
grandfather free and getting the Ring away from Barrik. I don't want any
legendary treasures left in that castle. In fact, I want the place
vacated completely. He'll just have to find a timeshare somewhere else."

"Well." For the very first time, Asti regarded me with a measure of
respect. "This selflessness isn't like you, Aahz."

"Yes, it is," Tananda said. I turned to glare. She put her hands on her
hips and stared me straight in the eye.

Ersatz made an 'ahem!' noise. It wasn't exactly throat-clearing, since
he had no throat, but it got our attention. We broke the stare-down.

"I beg your pardon for interrupting this modesty fest," he said, "but
this makes us equals in interest. We have a grand­father to rescue and a
Ring to retrieve. Pray, Aahz, tell us your plan."

Chapter 22

/RECONNOITER, /WAS MY first order, so we /bamfed /into Walt to scope out
the situation. The sky over the scenic and hilly landscape had a faint
purplish cast, and in the distance I could hear the sound of music.

Back on her home turf, Calypsa twirled for joy. "Let us go and see my
parents! I know they have been worried. Oh, they will be thrilled at our
adventures! I want them to meet all of you, and see Ersatz, and Buirnie,
and Asti..."

"Barrik's men will be watching to see if you come back," I said. "It's
what I would do, and he's proven to be pretty savvy so far. We're not
just going to hand the treasures over to him first thing."

Calypsa's face fell. "But they will be worried."

Kelsa's Walt-face disappeared and was replaced by a couple of the
locals, a male with dark plumage and a female who was a slightly older
version of Calypsa.

"Yes, they are, dear. They're worried about you and your grandfather.
And your younger brother. Did you know he had a still in the caves down
by the river?"

I waved my hand for the Crystal Ball's attention.

"Can you see inside Barrik's castle?"

The two faces disappeared in a cloud and were replaced by lines of
static, then a test pattern.

"He is blocking me, she said. My goodness, that's a strong interference
spell! It is even stronger here than I thought it would be."

"So, you're saying we have to go in blind?" Tananda asked. "I've tried
that already, and I have to tell you, it's impossible."

"Well, no," Kelsa said. "Look, here!" We gazed into her depths at the
image of the castle walls. Down at the base, three figures were slipping
around the silhouette of a tower.

"So that proves that we /will /get information. I will just have to work
on getting past his spell."

"You don't need to," Payge said. "I have a floor plan."

Surrounded by an illusion of a hazel copse overlooking the black castle,
we watched guards go in and out for a few hours and studied the
illuminated elevation on page 846 of Payge's section on Famous Buildings
of Evil Overlords and Wizards. We propped up the Golden Hoard so they
could look it over with us.

"A fairly traditional layout, with defensive positions well designed."
Ersatz said.

I turned over to Figure 3b, which showed a lot of colored arrows lying
over the castle.

Tananda whistled. "No wonder Barrik can have magikal protection like he
has. There are four major lines of force in­tersecting above and below
the castle, not to mention about six smaller ones. It's a major nexus
point."

So, friend Aahz, what is our plan?" Ersatz asked.

"Plan?" I asked blandly, turning to meet him eye to eye. "There's no
plan. Calypsa here asked us to help assemble the Golden Hoard to trade
for her grandfather with this wizard Barrik. That's what we're going to do."

"What?" he asked, outraged. "I have heard you say so over these many
days, but I still cannot believe that is your sole plan. Having
assembled us all, you have no intent on making use of our talents?"

"Why not?" I asked coolly. "You all decided you could ignore mine, and
for what I think is the most petty of rea­sons. As far as I am
concerned, you're just a bunch of hot trade goods."

"You are justified in your anger, friend Aahz," Ersatz said, after a
moment's reflection. "It is hubris as that which we have shown that
caused the fall of Valhal. We will not fol­low in its wake. We were
created to serve mortals in their aims. It would appear that we are
acting in our own interests,

whether for ego's sake or not. That is inexcusable. You have proven your
merit again and again. It was wrong of Asti to complain of your wish to
be reimbursed, since it was I who persuaded you to incur the debt.
Otherwise I might not yet have regained my freedom, and found such a
worthy appren­tice to teach." His eyes swiveled to Calypsa, whose eyes
were fixed on him in adoration.

"You're right, Ersatz," I said, with a grin. "He has no way to expect
your talents. What's your best guess on penetrating the castle?"

The eyes narrowed slightly, but with humor showing. "Why, Calypsa will
be expected, but you must be admitted. And if all goes ill you will
require a diversion to get out, as well."

"We have one." I turned to Kelsa. "Buirnie said you're no better than a
snow globe for predicting the future."

"What?" Kelsa said. She turned to the Fife, whose mouth gaped open. "You
said that! I can see it now! How dare you!"

"I told you that in confidence," he protested to me.

"He's not that original a songwriter, you know," Payge said. "I can show
you at least a dozen references where Buirnie played music that he
claimed he wrote himself, but they date back hundreds of years before.
Turn to page 1,047, if you don't believe me."

"You comic book!" Buirnie exploded, loosing a whistle that pierced both
of my ears to the center of my skull. "How dare you claim to be the
greatest historical archive of all time! Ersatz said you missed out
completely on a dozen of his battles. He says you ignored them out of
jealousy!"

"That is not true," Ersatz protested. "I said he might have downplayed
my role in the wars out of deference to the mor­tals involved. But I
should have been mentioned where I took a part!"

"Your ego is not the point of my documents," Payge said. "It is for the
ages."

Tananda grabbed my arm. "It's starting again."

The ground started to shake underneath our feet.

"Make them stop, Aahz!" Calypsa begged me.

"No," I said, with satisfaction. "This is just what we want."

"Hah!" Asti exclaimed. "You provoked that on purpose!"

"Sure did," I said with satisfaction. "You all go up like balloons right
on cue. Works pretty well, I think."

Ersatz's dark blue eyes were summing. "Friend Aahz, you are not only an
excellent judge of character, but a clever cap­tain of resources."

I grinned. "I bet you say that to all the Pervects. Now, here's what
I've got in mind. We're going to give Barrik what he wants. Calypsa's
going to go home and visit her parents."

"What?" Calypsa said, after she had finished a spontane­ous dance for
joy. "I thought you said that it would be too perilous for me and my
family if I did."

"Simple," I said. "We want Barrik to think we don't sus­pect anything.
Before her mother's broken out the baklava, Barrik will know that
Calypsa is home. Nothing travels faster in a small town than gossip.
They'll be talking about the fabu­lous treasures she's carrying. What
they won't be able to tell him is whether they're real or not."

"But of course we are real, dear Aahz," Kelsa said, pa­tiently.

/"You /are," I said. "But the goodies that Calypsa will be bringing to
Barrik aren't."

"Should he not meet us?" Ersatz demanded. "Will we not bring our full
force to bear upon this caitiff? He has insulted her family and cast her
honored ancestor into durance vile"

"Sure he will meet you," I said, not able to keep myself from grinning.
"Just not in the way that he expects to."

We went into a huddle.

Calypsa looked like a baby chick whose mother hen had aban­doned it on
the doorstep as she stood with her bag full of pseudo-Hoard swag,
waiting for the portcullis of the black castle to rise. I didn't like
the glee of the Dile henchmen as they marched out and surrounded her.
They were plenty rough

as they towed her inside. Her parents hung back on the other side of the
moat with the rest of the townsfolk, clutching one another in fear.
Calypsa kept her back straight.

"That's the girl," I said in a low voice. I felt pretty confi­dent as
long as she had Ersatz with her.

Even if she had no opportunity to draw him, he could talk her spirits
up. The other real treasure she had with her was Chin-Hwag. I did not
like the idea of the Purse falling into the clutches of the Dile wizard,
but she was right about the thoughts of endless streams of gold keeping
anyone from look­ing too closely at the fake treasures.

Tananda had done us proud. She had bounced back to Deva to shop for the
fakes. I thought the substitute Asti was the best, a deconsecrated
chalice from a cult that had gotten shut down by the authorities on Como
for tax fraud, bedi­zened with a wealth of glass gems. The others were
pretty good, too, though I hoped Barrik set Calypso free before he
opened up the fake Payge. The scam book was a complete collection of
"Danger Whelf" comics for the last fifty years, bound in genuine iron
pyrite embossed covers.

"I cannot follow her now that the gate is closed," Kelsa said. "My
goodness, I'm not used to feeling so helpless!"

"Read my Breaking Updates section," Payge advised us.

As directed, I turned to the header. Beneath it was a series of
illustrations, quick-drawn as though they had been jotted by a court
reporter. The first showed Calypsa, a tragic expres­sion on her face, in
the midst of the guards. The second was a broad image of a courtyard,
huge, but with every detail sug­gested by quick pen strokes.

"Nice work," I commented.

"Thank you," Payge said.

"That's Barrik?" Tananda asked, pointing to a skinny fig­ure in a cloak.

"Not very impressive," I agreed.

The evil wizard, who had moved in and taken over the town, kidnapped at
least one of its most prominent citizens,

and had set up a ring of spells that defeated even some of the most
powerful magik items I'd ever come across, was a skinny, green-scaled
geek with an overbite and poor taste in hats.

"Fedoras like that are even out of style on Imper," Tananda said.

"Wait," Payge said, groaning at the strain, "Here come some captions."

A surprised Barrik confronted Calypsa on the steps of a shining black
stone dais. "I did not expect you to return... so soon."

"I want my grandfather returned to me," the girl replied, her chin held
proudly high.

"In time." Barrik rubbed his hands together. "Let me see them! I want
the Hoard!"

Two henchmen ran forward with the bag Calypsa had brought with her.

The next frame merely read, CLUNK!

The one after that was a pair of reptilian eyes, narrowed greedily.
"Beautiful. Beautiful. I wish to see a demonstration of their powers."

"When will I see my grandfather?" Calypsa asked.

The eyes again, looking perturbed. "When I am satisfied. Now, show me!"

I heard the sound of plodding hoofbeats, and glanced up.

The ruminant-drawn cart full of vegetables groaned up the hill with one
of the Walt townsfolk at the reins. I wouldn't have thought of his tunic
with the fancy ruffled sleeves or the patterned silk bandanna tightly
tied around his brow as go-to-market clothes, but Calypsa had assured me
that Walts loved to dress up no matter what the occasion.

"Our ride's here. Come on. Let's go invade a castle."

Tananda and I lay on the bottom of the cart while the driver piled sacks
of potatoes and a few sides of raw meat on top of us.

"I can keep up a verbal narration if you like," Payge said. "I do very
good descriptions."

"Just the dialogue," I said. "And keep it low."

"Meanwhile," Payge said, "the brave Calypsa's compan­ions hid themselves
in a cart full of food being delivered to the castle."

"Skip the parts about us!" I hissed. "We know what's hap­pening here.
Tell me what Calypsa's doing."

"Forgive me. 'She stands bravely before the slavering Dile and reaches
for the first of the treasures. "What is that?" Barrik askes. "A
chamois? I don't remember a sponge as one of the Golden Hoard."

'"O Barrik," Calypsa says. "This is Chin-Hwag, the Purse of Endless
Money. She gives forth gold coins upon request.'"

'Barrik slaveres greedily. "Give me gold. Give me lots of gold!'"

Chin-Hwag frowned. "Scaly j..." Er, Aahz, do I need to repeat the
invective of my fellow Hoarders?"

"Not if it has no relation to the action," I said. "What's she doing?"

"Er, she spits a gold coin into the air, a Meringuian soli-dus. Barrik
leapes to catch it. He seems disappointed. He wants more, a stream of
gold. Calypsa asks Chin-Hwag to give him more coins. She is producing
them, albeit one at a time. There goes a Devan spite. I don't believe
they have minted those in six hundred years."

"Perfect," I said. "She'll keep him too busy to notice us."

"Meanwhile," Kelsa said, "we are here, and the guards in­tend to search
the cart. Our driver will put them off success­fully, but only if we do
not attract attention."

"A guard produces a spear," Payge whispered. "He prods the produce. Aagh!"

"Shh!" I hissed.

"He dogeared one of my pages!"

"Shut up!" I growled.

"What's in there?" a rough voice demanded.

"Cheese curds," the amiable voice of the farmer replied. "So fresh, they
squeak!"

"Let's see 'em," the guard said.

"I must not unwrap them; they'll get stale."

"Get'em out here!"

"If I cannot make you happy any other way," the carter said, reluctantly.

We heard things start to shift. There were only two layers of sacks over
me. If the guards decided to help, we'd be un­covered in a second.

Tananda's eyes were close enough to me that I could see the alarm in them.

"Someone do something!" she whispered.

Someone did. A terrible smell wafted up and surrounded us all in the miasma.

"Aahz!"

"It's not me. It's Asti."

"What the hell's that stench?" one of the guards demanded.

"I TOLD you, it is the cheese curds!"

"Yeeaagh! You go right on in there to the kitchen, pal. The cook'll cut
you to pieces and serve you for dessert when he smells that!"

More grumbling as the sacks of root vegetables that had been removed
thudded back on top of me. I waited until the guards' voices receded,
and the heavy cart started lumbering forward again.

"We're out of sight," the carter whispered.

"I can't stand it any more," I said. "Turn off the stink!"

"It's not me, Aahz," the Cup protested.

I flexed my muscles, and the sacks slid off my back. I helped unearth
Tananda. She brushed powdered dirt off her clothes. I looked around to
discover that we were behind the midden heap.

"I stand corrected," I said. The three of us dug the Hoard out. They
were all disguised in worn burlap bags. Buirnie and his backup were
piled into one carrier together.

"Ah, that's better!" Kelsa crowed, as I pulled her loose. "I can see
everything now!"

I dumped the Hoard out of their sacks. Zildie jumped to its feet and
shook its drum head until it rattled.

Kelsa's face spun around her globe in delight. "Barrik is very clever
about his shield spell. It's most economical, I see that now that I am
inside the barricade. He has made a shell of a spell—I mean a spell
shell. It is embedded in the walls, prob­ably enchanted mortar."

"Binding spells, see page 10,582," Payge intoned.

"Yes! I couldn't see a thing until we were inside, but now I can see
everything!"

"Keep it down," I growled, as Tananda tied Buirnie to Zildie's side.
"Let's not attract the attention..."

"Who goes there?" a voice demanded. "Hands up!"

I turned, a big smile on my face. Three long-snouted guards came toward
us with their spears pointed in our direction.

"Well, hello, there!" I said. "We got a little lost on the tour. Can you
direct us to the gift shop?"

"Guardsmen, ho! We've got a big, ugly one here!" the first guard yelled.

"Who are you calling ugly?" I yelled back. "You look like your mother
stuck your nose in a vise!"

The guard captain poked me in the ribs with the spear.

"OW!"

"No talking!"

In a moment, we were surrounded by at least twenty men-at-arms. Their
heads were draped in chainmail coifs, out of which their long, pointed
faces grinned toothily.

"I can blast their ears off," Buirnie declared.

"I have just the spell," Payge said. "If you repeat after me..."

"Potions, anyone?" Asti asked.

"Which treasure is Calypsa on?" I asked.

"Still on Chin-Hwag," Kelsa said, gaily. "My goodness, how Barrik dances
with impatience. It's almost elegant for a crea­ture like him. I didn't
think Diles had any sense of rhythm."

"No talking!" the guard barked, prodding me with a spear.

"Have we got enough time to get into the dungeons and

out again?"

"Oh, you're going to the dungeons, all right," the chief guard hissed,
as more of the contingent appeared and sur­rounded us. "You're just not
getting out again."

"How cliche," Payge sighed.

"That's all right," I said. "We want to go to the dungeons."

"It's very convenient," Tananda said, flirting her eyelashes at him. "It
saves us asking directions."

"I could give you directions," Kelsa said, sounding hurt.

"You must be crazy," the guard captain said, his snout bob­bing. He
waved his free hand at the Hoard. "Confiscate those... things!"

"We're not 'things,'" Asti said, peevishly.

The captain turned to me. "Make them shut up,"

"Buddy," I sighed, "If you can get them to shut up, you're doing better
than I am."

"Now, move it! March!"

"May I give you an update on conditions in the audience chamber?" Payge
asked.

"Just the dialogue, okay?"

"Certainly. Chin-Hwag emitted a noise that sounded like "Ptoo."
"Beautiful, beautiful," said Barrik, wizard and con­queror of Walt."

"Save the editorializations," I growled.

"It is like that in the archives," the Book said, sounding hurt.

"Well, save it." I turned to the guards. "Can we get a move on? We're
running on a schedule, here!"

"They are crazy," one of the guards commented. "His Enchantedness is
going to want to know about them as soon as possible."

"Go report," the captain said.

"Stay here!" I ordered. "We're too dangerous for a reduced squad to handle."

"What?"

Tananda wound herself around the guard and fondled the toothy jaw with a
finger. "Look, I'm escaping."

"Back in line, stranger!" the captain commanded.

"That's no way to talk to a lady," she said. She stiff-armed the guard
in his long snout, knocking him backwards off his feet.

The whole contingent surrounded us, prodding us with the point of their
spears.

Tananda lifted her hands in surrender. "Easy, easy! I don't mind playing
rough, but I do draw the line at toys."

If the Dile guards could have blushed, they would have.

"March," the guard captain said, more hoarsely than before.

"Calypsa had better stay on schedule," I said.

Chapter 23

THE DUNGEONS WERE about what I would have expected from someone who had
read the Tyrant's Guide to Oppres­sion, or Despotism For Dummies. A
heavy iron door with a grate the size of my hand creaked open onto a
downward spi­ral stairway so narrow that we could only walk down it
single file. The guards at the front and rear lit torches, which smoked
like five-pack-a-day addicts, and shed just enough light that you
couldn't really tell the difference between shadows and solid objects.
The place smelled of blood, fear, eau de un­washed prisoner, rotten food
and rat droppings. Considering we were nowhere near the dimension where
rats had origi­nated, I took a moment to marvel at the ubiquitousness of
the vermin species.

My thoughts took my attention away momentarily from Payge's nonstop
commentary.

"His efforts to spur Chin-Hwag to greater speed in pro­ducing money have
failed. He has threatened Calypsa's life, but the Purse is pretending
she can't hear him. He's assigned a flunky to catch the coins when she
spits one out.

"Let me know when he runs out of legitimate items, willya?" I asked.

"Silence in the ranks!" the captain's voice echoed up to us.

At the bottom of the staircase, they pushed me and Tananda up against
the wall. The jailor grinned at us, showing gaps in the rows of hundreds
of stunted, yellow teeth.

"Guess the lack of dental hygiene among cell-keepers is pretty universal
dimensionwide," I commented.

"Silence!"

Payge broke it. "The wizard eyes the Sword. He signs to the Walt maiden
to hand it to him. She is reluctant. "If you do not give it to me, your
grandfather will die a long, slow, terrible death" he said."

"Will you pay attention to your cases?" Kelsa said pee­vishly. "You keep
jumping in between present and past tense."

"Forgive me. I am not accustomed to reporting some­thing so recently
recorded into the archives. The tenses change."

"What do we do with the gold?" one of the guards asked his captain.

"What do you think? We save them for His Enchantedness! He knows
everything that goes on around here."

"Not everything," Kelsa said. "Why, he doesn't know that you have made
up a song about him. It goes, "Barrik is a squint-eyed boob, his nose is
like a spiky tube..."

"Say, that's snappy!" Buirnie exclaimed. "Give me the rhythm, Zildie!"

RAT-TAT! RAT-TAT!

"Silence!"

/Ba-dum. /The drum dipped its head in disappointment.

"You really know how to hurt an artist," Buirnie complained.

"Knock it off," I told him. "You'll have plenty of opportu­nity in a
minute."

"Can I dose them now?" Asti asked me. "They are getting on my nerves
almost as much as you do."

"Not yet," I said.

"Against her will," Payge continued, "the Walt maiden holds out the
Sword. The wizard Barrik snatches it from her. "Will you serve me?" he
asks the Sword. Ersatz looks at him. "You have a very poor grip. You
would lose me the first time you swung me." The wizard becomes enraged.
"Ptoo!" says Chin-Hwag. Barrik is distracted as his servant leaps to
catch the coin..."

"Chain them to the wall in cell 47," the captain said.

"I ain't cleaned it up yet. That other guy who died in there, he's still
there!"

"No matter," the captain said, leering at me. "Perverts don't mind a
little rotten flesh, do you?"

"Now, Aahz?" Asti asked.

"Not yet," I growled, as the guards steered us at spearpoint toward a
low, soot-darkened door. I could see that the hasp for the lock was on
the bottom third of the door, well away from the gloating-hole. Even
Tananda would have trouble reaching that, even assuming we could undo
the promised chains.

"Aahz," she said.

"I know! Kelsa, what's going on?"

"Well, he just tossed Ersatz aside. Calypsa almost fainted when he hit
the ground. He started to pick up the Book."

"I am the Book," Payge said, offended.

"Yes, I know you are, dear, but you're not the one that Calypsa is
trying to pass off as you, you see."

"What's going on??" I interrupted her.

"Oh, well, Chin-Hwag waited until he started to pick it up, then spat
out another coin. She's just stringing him along so beautifully, you
would think she's done this before!"

"She has done this before," Payge said.

"Barrik frowned," Kelsa said, her Pervect face wide-eyed. "He's
counting. Oh, he's upset! Listen!"

A tinny voice came through the crystal loud and clear. It had to be Barrik.

"But there are only six of the Hoard here. Where is the great Ring,
Bozebos?"

"That's His Enchantedness," the captain burst out, terri­fied. "How are
you doing that? Can he hear us?"

"Oh, dear, no," Kelsa said. "I'm a receiving set, not a broad­caster.
For that you would have wanted to talk to..."

"Shut up," I said. "I'm listening."

Calypsa's voice followed. She sounded defiant, even though I know she
was scared half to death. "I will produce the Ring when you bring my
grandfather up here and let me see that he is all right."

"What makes you think you have room to bargain? He stays in the dungeon,
and unless you want to join him, you will turn your treasures over to me
now!"

"I am going to find him."

"That's not in the script," I groaned.

I heard the sounds of a scuffle.

"Get your filthy, scaly hands off me!" I had to say Calypsa was
magnificent in her indignation, though I didn't like her choice of
insults. The outcry was followed by a slap that was audible to everyone
in the dungeon.

"How dare you touch me! You shall pay! I will do the Dance of Death!"

Tananda and I exchanged glances.

"That's really not in the script," I said.

Barrik's voice was higher than usual.

"Guards! Guards! ALL my guards, seize this wench!"

"We've got to go," the captain said, signing to the jailor. "Lock these
two up. Everyone, get ready to move out!"

They shoved us toward the yawning black hole that lay behind the low
door. I braced my feet on the floor, trying to slow them down. Tananda
grabbed hold of a wall sconce. The Diles peeled her fingers away one by
one and dragged her, an inch at a time, into the cell.

"NOW, Aahz?"

"Be my guest," I said, holding Asti right in the captain's face. "Hey,
pal, look at the pretty cup!"

Asti overflowed, not with the milk of golden kindness, but an olive-drab
oil slick that would have done a double-ought agent proud. The captain
made a grab for me, but his feet whisked out from under him.

CLANK!

He knocked over the next man in line, who dominoed into the third one.

"Omaniee balundarie straterumie brigunderie..."

Payge started reciting spells. The guard holding him stiffened into
stone. A couple more Diles reached for the Book.

"Whiskerie sposorie toppirie zing!"

They began to spin in place like tops.

"St-o-o-o-op!" they moaned.

The Book flapped his covers and floated up toward the staircase like a
giant golden butterfly.

"See you in the audience chamber," his soft voice called.

"Well, that's my cue, too," Buirnie said. "Come on, Zildie, Klik! On the
beat. A one, a two..."

Buirnie, accompanied by his drummer, set up a deafening barrage of
martial kazoo music that would have had the hench­men on their knees
with their fingers in their ears, if it wasn't compelling them to dance
their brains out. Those on dry land dipped and twisted, with a
shuffle-off-to-Buffalo for good measure. The rest kicked and hopped. One
guard went over backwards. He fell into his companions. They went down
like dominoes. The whole troop ended up on their backs in the oil slick.
Their legs were still moving. They were begging for mercy by the time I
sauntered past them, my feet protected by a non-slip lotion Asti had
brewed up earlier that also protected us from Buirnie's compulsory dance
spell.

"Father and I went down to camp, along with High Gen­eral Mikwuk
Trimbuli. There we saw the Imps and Mumps as red as pasta fagioli!"
Buirnie sang, accompanied by the nasal buzz. The henchmen kept time with
the drum, beating their limbs on the ground. "Let's go, boys."

The snare drum, with the Fife on board trotted over the oil slick, lit
by Klik's beam. The prone Diles kept on dancing.

"Help me, Pervert," the captain begged. He rocked back and forth.

"That's Pervect," I said. I located the jitterbugging jailor and
relieved him of his ring of keys. "Thanks, pal."

"I had better get up there ASAP," Tananda said. I handed her Asti, who
continued to spew oil, though carefully missing Tananda's feet.

"Move it. I'll get up there as soon as I can."

She nodded and ran away on tiptoe.

"Light it up," I told Kelsa.

"Light? Right!" Kelsa said. She burst into hysterical giggles. "I made a
rhyme!"

But the globe started glowing brightly, until we were sur­rounded by a
golden nimbus. I held her out in front of me and started looking in the
cells.

I saw no reason why Barrik should get to keep any of his prisoners. I
opened all of the doors I came to along the way. The Walts seemed to
have a natural immunity to Buirnie's music. They stepped out of the
cells with dignity. Some of them even bowed their thanks as they
sashayed past me and bounded out of the cavern.

"Look out for the oil..." I called, but I didn't need to have bothered.
When they hit the slick, they just glided over it. I went back to my search.

The corridor was no short passage cut into a natural fissure in the
rock. It went on for blocks. I was impressed that the old boy had
managed to build such a sizable dun­geon in the short time that he had
been on Walt. The ceil­ing got lower and lower as we moved further into
the depths underneath the mountain. By the time we got to the last cell,
I was stooped over. I unlimbered the last key, a huge piece of iron with
a dozen complicated wards at the end of the barrel. I looked into the
tiny window. A stooped figure looked up from where it sat. Feathered
arms rested on its knees.

"Calypso?" I asked.

The head snapped up, and the Walt's posture went as erect as anyone's
could in a half-height cell. "Who wishes to know?" he demanded regally.

"Name's Aahz," I said. "Your granddaughter sent me."

The aged eyes popped wide open.

"Calypsa! Where is she?"

"Upstairs," I said. "She's doing something called the Dance of Death."

The old man sprang up. He fluttered his arms.

"What? That is most serious! If she has begun that, either she or her
foe must die before the dance is finished. We must go to her aid!"

"Hold it," I said. "First, Where's the ring you've been ear­ning around?"

He put a hand on his thin middle.

"I swallowed it," he said. "That terrible Barrik must never possess the
treasure of the Calypsos!"

"Ah!" Kelsa said. "That would explain the noises I was hearing. It's not
good for you to have that much heavy metal in your diet, dear."

"Can we get it out of him?"

"Asti can prepare an emetic," Kelsa said.

Suddenly, a multicolored glitter joined the golden light. A brilliant
cluster of jewels bobbed at face level. It was the ring in Kelsa's
vision. My heart beat hard with avarice, even as I acknowledged the
thing was a product of the Totally-Over-TheTopSchool-ofDesign. A small
face like that of an annoyed leprechaun appeared in the top gem, a
diamond as big as my eyeball.

"Bozebos does not need help getting out of tight places," the Ring said.

"It can talk!" Calypso said. "A treasure of the Calypsos, talking!"

"What is so unusual about that?" Kelsa asked. "There are thousands of
magikal rings in the universe. Most of them talk."

"Kelsa? Is that you?" the Ring asked, turning its little face to her.
"What are you doing here?"

"We're all here, dear."

"That appalling din—is that Buirnie?"

Kelsa's face appeared in the gleaming sphere. She beamed at him. "Yes!
Sometimes it's been a trial having him around constantly for the last
several days, but I have to say that it has been MOST interesting, you
know. I haven't seen any of you in, my goodness, centuries! That is, in
person. I've seen all of you in my visions, of course..."

"But /why now?"/

"We had to, dear. It was necessary to get together to save the life of
this Walt here."

The hovering Ring seemed to shake with fury. "You should all leave at
once! This is MY dimension! I am the One Ring."

The elderly Walt stared in amazement.

"I thought it was costume jewelry. Why did it not speak before?"

"Your family is so talented you never needed my help," Bozebos said.
"But you were nice to live with for a while. I will have to move on
soon. Others need me." He looked at Kelsa distastefully. "I would not
stay in any case if the rest of the Hoard is here. It /already- /feels
too crowded."

"My goodness, don't be such a prima donna!" Kelsa said. "Oh, speaking of
such things, you should have seen the pirou­ette Calypsa just did! She
rose about eight feet in the air, and came down with her sword almost at
Barrik's throat! It made him mad, I must say. He's not nearly as good
with a sword as she is, and she has only been taking lessons for a few..."

"Why can you not stop talking trivia?" Bozebos said. "It is enough that
you are here, ruining my privacy."

"Hey!" I bellowed. I captured the Ring in one hand and glared at it
"Calypsa needs us pronto! Let's go."

Chapter 24

FOLLOWING KELSA'S INSTRUCTIONS, I led Calypso to a different set of
steep stone stairs. He looked at the spiral leading up well past the
beam of the Crystal Ball's light and swallowed deeply, but he gamely
started climbing. Within a few steps I could tell he wasn't going to
make it.

"Wait a minute," I said. I addressed the Ring. "You're such a big-time
magik item. Help him up the stairs."

The little face turned up its retrousse nose haughtily. "I can do better
than that, Pervert!"

Before I could finish saying, "That's Per-VECT," a blue light blinded
me. When it cleared, I found myself in an im­mense chamber with a
soaring frescoed ceiling, facing a set of double doors. The blatting
sound of a kazoo was faint in the distance, but Buirnie's magik was
potent enough that Barrik's employees, courtiers, servers, drudges, were
jumping, twist­ing and swaying to the piped tune. The guards that should
have been facing us to defend the doors were arm in arm, doing a
grapevine step up and back.

"Halt!" the guard on the end demanded, as he did a fancy
step-kick-dip-step. "Who goes there?"

"Forget about them," Tananda said, coming from behind a pil­lar. "They
can't stop moving long enough to lay a hand on you."

"Why aren't you in there looking after Calypsa?"

"I can't get inside," she said. "I told you this place was proof against
thieves."

I tugged on the door handle, an iron ring the size of my head. "Nothing."

"It will be an effort, but I can blast it," Bozebos said. "Stand back."

"The interesting thing, you know," Kelsa said, "is that ev­eryone always
enchants the /doors, /but no one ever bothers with the /keyholes."/

"Hah!" the Ring exclaimed. He lanced a crimson beam toward the oblong
hole. "You are right! Together, now."

Gold and glitter focused in one beam. The hole got larger and larger
until I barely had to duck to get through it.

Inside, the Dile henchmen stood in rows, all gazing at some­thing
happening beyond them.

"They're not dancing." I said. "How's he doing that?"

"Barrik is a powerful magician, dear," Kelsa said. "The child really has
bitten off more than she can chew, not that Walts really bite or chew,
so to speak..."

"What my babbling associate means, is that Barrik con­trols all that
goes on within that chamber," Bozebos said. "It will take more than one
of us to defeat him utterly."

"It's a good thing there's more than one of you, then," I said.

"Hurry!" Calypso said. "My granddaughter needs me!" The guards who
should have challenged us had their at­tention on something going on in
the center. We pushed our way through the crowd to see.

In the center of a wide circle left by the henchmen, Calypsa and the
reptilian-looking Barrik circled one another. He, in his cape and little
feathered hat, bobbed low. She, in her tightly-laced dancing shoes,
circled him, her arms held high. It looked like some kind of wild
National Geographic mating ritual. The only difference between this and
a pasa doble was the huge sword Calypsa was wielding. The Dile wizard
made a point of keeping out of her range. On the floor was a heap of
gold, the discarded fake treasures, with Chin-Hwag on the top. Once in a
while, she spat a coin into the air. With all eyes on the duel, the gold
clanked to the floor unnoticed.

At one side of the room, Tananda leaned against a pillar.

"You must be Calypso," she said, taking him warmly by one wing. "Glad to
see you're out of there. I'm Tananda."

"Why are you not doing anything to help my granddaugh­ter?" Calypso
demanded.

"She doesn't need me," Tananda said. "She's doing fine. Watch."

The young Walt female stepped grandly around the green-scaled Dile. He
seemed to be the one who was at a disadvan­tage. He must not be used to
threats from a teenaged dancer, and it was throwing him off. Instead of
taking action, he was responding. Calypsa tossed her free hand, stamped
her feet and whirled. Ersatz's blued steel whistled as it cut the air.

"Granddaughter, stop!" Calypso shouted. "You should not be doing the
Dance of Death! Your whole life is before you!"

The two combatants on the floor turned to see who was yelling. Both
their mouths dropped open.

"Who let that old fool out?" Barrik snarled.

"Calypsa! Be careful!"

"Grandfather!" Calypsa shrieked with joy. Then she re­gained her poise.
She sneered at Barrik. "You villain! You, who would keep the great
Calypso in durance vile! You tried to disgrace our family! You sought to
trick me! You shall die!"

"I will kill you, wench," Barrik exclaimed.

"One shall live, and one shall die," Calypsa countered, sounding
melodramatic. They kept circling one another, look­ing for openings.

"What's the significance of the Dance of Death?" I asked the old man.
"Isn't it just a dance, like all the others?"

Calypso straightened his thin back. "Sir! All our dances have meaning!
The death dance is a challenge and a geas. Once it is begun, it can be
interrupted, but never ends until one of the participants is dead!"

"Ayieee!" Calypsa shrilled. She held Ersatz horizontally over her head,
the point aiming at Barrik. "Honor must be satisfied!"

She charged him. The Dile wizard leaped away. He felt in his cape
pockets, his hands tangling in the thick velvet.

Calypsa advanced upon him. Just before she got in slash­ing range, he
whipped a wand out of a pocket and leveled it at her.

"Parry four!" Ersatz yelled. Calypsa brought the sword down in a
twinkling and twisted the blade up and to the left.

Barrik withdrew in surprise and attempted to riposte. "Parry six! Now,
fleche!"

Calypsa rose on her toes and bounded toward the startled wizard. She
swung Ersatz up and across. The wand went flying.

"Attagirl!" I shouted. Gleefully, I slapped the nearest hench­man on the
back. "What do you think of that?"

"Ten silver pieces on the wench," the henchman said promptly.

"What?" I demanded. "You think I'm going to bet against my own contender?"

"I will take your action," a large, ochre-skinned reptile said. "Fifteen
says she can't touch him. He is the great enchanter!"

"Fifteen says she guts him," the first henchman said.

"I will take both of you!" the big guy insisted.

"You can't wager on whether he'll kill her or not!" Tananda said. She
looked shocked.

"Who says?" I stood gleefully collecting bets. "I'm going to win."

Calypsa thrust the huge weapon, then recovered onto one long foot.
Barrik backed up, clapping his hand to his chest. He looked at it for
blood, but Calypsa had missed him by a scale. He had been taken by
surprise once, but it would take some work to pull that off again. He
held out his hand and the wand jumped back into it. Calypsa narrowed her
eyes.

Suddenly, the Dile jumped toward her, pointing the wand. A bolt of
lightning jumped from its tip. Almost of its own volition, Ersatz dipped
in front of her body, deflecting it.

The bolt cracked off the blued steel and rebounded. Barrik threw himself
to the floor as it blasted over his head. It hit a huge ceramic vase on
a pedestal, which exploded.

"Now, press your advantage, child," Ersatz said. "He is off guard.
Ballestra!"

Calypsa leaped and lunged. She would have gutted Barrik, but he rolled
bonelessly to his feet. He aimed the wand at Calypsa again.

"No!" Calypso cried. He tried to break away from my side to help her.

"Stay back," I said. "We've got this under control."

"But she is just a girl."

"She's your granddaughter," Tananda said. "Believe in her. She'll make
you proud, I promise."

"Yes," the old man said, his eyes gleaming. "She is my grand­daughter."

The two combatants circled each other. Barrik was start­ing to wheeze.
He didn't have the stamina to keep up with a trained dancer. I knew
sooner or later he would start to play dirty tricks.

I left Tananda guarding Calypso. The old man was gazing at the action. I
headed to the opposite end of the audience chamber. With henchmen
pressing coins into my hands I was still collecting bets.

I spotted Chin-Hwag on the floor. The Purse coughed up one more coin.
She gave me a fishy embroidered eye. I signed toward Barrik. She nodded.
If there was anything she could do to help, she was ready.

I had no idea what I could do against a powerful magician when the time
came, but I could direct operations. A rattling sound attracted my
attention to the rafters, where Payge flut­tered in and balanced on a
fancy carved boss.

Barrik started muttering. Tananda sent me a high sign. She was feeling a
drain on the lines of force passing through the castle.

"Penny-ante, cheap, showboating legerdemain!" Bozebos muttered darkly. I
opened my hand and looked at the face in the gem.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Oh, calling up a whirlwind," the Ring said. "That sort of thing went
out with seances and disembodied floating faces outside the window."

"What?" I sputtered.

I dove for a spot behind a heavy pillar as a gray funnel cloud dropped
out of the ceiling and joined Calypsa on the

dance floor. The henchmen backed up, giving the miniature tornado plenty
of room.

She tossed her head. She had no trouble staying out of its way. The pasa
doble became a troika, with Barrik trying to avoid Calypsa and his own
creation. He snarled and whipped a hand. The whirlwind got larger.

"Can you tie a knot in that windbag?" I asked the Ring.

"No trouble," he said. The sapphire next to the base glowed, and the
funnel cloud constricted. It squeaked like a deflating balloon, and
vanished. Barrik looked perturbed.

"Who dares to interfere with me?" he demanded, glaring around him. He
leveled the wand, and green flame spurted out in a ring. The henchmen
wailed and ducked to avoid their master's spell. I kept low. Fire is one
of the few things that can hurt my thick Pervect hide.

"Exterie vaunterie bellerie," came Payge's soft voice from the rafters.
Barrik's flames went out. He started to look frightened.

"Who is doing that?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than before.
He turned to Calypso. "YOU must be responsible for this! I knew the
dancing was some kind of front! You are both magicians! Confess!"

He whipped up the wand. Waves of green light radiated toward the old
man. I held up the Ring, but Tananda had Asti in her hands. From the
bowl of the Cup arose a cloud of pink smoke. Green met pink and burst
outward.

BLAM!

Half the henchmen in the vicinity were knocked off their feet. Barrik
sprang to his feet, fuming. He faced Calypso.

The old man held himself proudly, pushing aside the wand.

"You don't scare me, tyrant. The Calypsos will withstand anything you
can throw at them."

Barrik eyed him keenly. He looked like a guy who knew his way around
lines of force. I wasn't wrong. He glared.

"The magik isn't coming from you! It is the Hoard that defends you! I
shall destroy them!"

Magnificently, Barrik turned and aimed his wand at the heap of golden
treasure on the floor.

"A load of magikal junk is no match for Barrik the En­chanter!" he
declared. A blaze of white light shot out of the wand, landed on the
pile and exploded, sending shards of white-hot metal flying.

Calypsa threw herself toward him, but too late. Even at that distance I
could recognize a thermite grenade. Barrik must have some high-tech
weaponry around to supplement force-line based magik.

"Chin-Hwag was in there," I groaned.

"No, she isn't," Bozebos corrected me. "Check your belt."

I looked down. The woven Purse looked up at me, per­turbed.

"You could have come to get me," she said.

I was relieved, but I wasn't going to let her make me look incompetent.

"Why?" I asked casually. "The Ring was on the job."

"Perverts! You are all so lazy. You wait for others to do your work."

"That's a big fat lie," I snarled. "I'm just waiting for the right
moment to step in."

Kazoo music loomed nearer and nearer. Zildie, the drum, raised its three
little feet over the threshold of the enlarged keyhole. Buirnie gleamed
brilliantly in the light from Klik, his personal spotlight.

"Say, everyone, did you miss me?" Buirnie asked. "Hey, you're not
dancing! Everyone should be dancing!"

He struck up a livelier tone.

Now that he was inside the audience chamber, Barrik's barrier spell was
useless. The henchmen broke into a shuffle. They looked at each other
uneasily, as their feet started mov­ing unwittingly. In a moment they
had started doing a mass hora around the room. Barrik stared at them in
horror.

The penny dropped.

"Those were fakes!" he shouted.

"It only took you a minute to figure that out," I said, step­ping
forward. "Congratulations. I heard Diles weren't com­pletely stupid.
Just most of them."

"You! You Pervert!" Barrik said, his toothy face focusing on me. "I knew
it couldn't be the child or her senile old grand­father who came up with
such a scheme."

"Senile?" Calypso said, his back as straight as a die. "The Calypsos
never become senile!"

"Per-VECT!" I corrected Barrik. "And one smart enough to realize that
you were too greedy to tell you weren't dealing with the real thing.
Here they are," I said, waving at the golden treasures, hanging from the
rafters, floating in the air, or wav­ing dangerously close to his long,
pointy nose. "The Golden Hoard. Legends. You can't blow /them /up like
Hill 59. They're more than a match for you." I waved a lazy hand. "Get
'em, guys."

Kelsa started the ball rolling, so to speak. The window of her little
case became the focus for a laserlike beam of hot gold light. It struck
Barrik in the belly and left a rectangular scorch mark.

"Ow! Curses!" he yelped.

"I didn't know you could do that," I remarked.

"Oh, I developed that to deal with Stygian darkness," Kelsa said,
cheerfully, swiping another beam past the Dile, who leaped over it. The
tail of his cloak caught fire, and he beat it out with an angry fist.
"Styg is a nice place, but so much particulate matter in the air that
one can barely tell when the sun is up..."

Barrik aimed the wand at us. I backpedaled into the conga line, trying
to get out of his way.

"My turn!" Buirnie called. The kazoo music got faster and faster. The
henchmen were doing shuffle-ball-change-shuffle so fast that their feet
were flashing. Barrik's face concentrated. I could tell he was doing
everything he could to keep from dancing, but the music was
irresistible. Even I was starting to feel it, and I had been inoculated.
Barrik fired bolt after bolt at

the Fife, trying to silence him. His feet broke into a jig. He hopped
and skipped. I almost applauded.

Calypsa, as usual, was unaffected by Buirnie. She contin­ued to circle
Barrik.

"We are not finished with our duel," she said.

"It's not fair," Barrik whined. "You're using Ersatz!"

"You have your wand," she countered. "Throw it away, and I will
surrender the Sword!"

"He has no honor, child," Ersatz chided her. "Do not be­lieve him."

"I will disarm if he will," she said. "We will settle this like
civilized beings."

Barrik faked as if to throw his magik stick away. Calypsa followed him,
move for move. On the third flick, he actually cast down the wand.
Calypsa followed suit. Ersatz went spin­ning across the floor. I caught him.

"Fool!" Barrik grinned. He opened his hand, and the wand went flying back.

"Return me, friend Aahz," Ersatz pleaded, his dark eyes blazing.

"Calypsa!" I called. She glanced at me. I tossed Ersatz, hilt downward.
She dove for it and caught it just above the floor. Barrik aimed a beam
of purple light at her.

"Look out," Tananda yelled. Calypsa rolled. The floor where she had been
just a moment before blew up in a burst of mo­saic tiles. She sprang up,
the sword in her hand

Asti threw in her two coppers. From her bowl, a yellow
liquid overflowed and began to cover the floor. Barrik, back­
ing away from Calypsa, didn't see it until he stepped in it. He
tried to raise one foot. It didn't move. He tried to pick up the
other. It was stuck, too. He aimed the wand at his feet.

"Silelie benifie usteckie," Payge chanted. The Book flapped his way down
from the rafters. Buirnie ordered Zildie to trot him over to join the
circle.

Barrik started throwing spells. The Hoard countered him, tossing visible
waves of force in his direction. The

"Take me there, Pervect," Chin-Hwag said. "I must join my fellows."

I brandished her, Bozebos and Kelsa at the trapped wiz­ard, who cowered
from them as if I'd been leveling a live dragon. Tananda held out Asti,
who looked like she was think­ing up another potion to evoke.

"You wanted us all here," Ersatz boomed. "I do not care for what
nefarious purpose, but you have us now. He who invokes the Hoard must
stand the consequences."

"Leave him alone!" Calypsa demanded. She came toward him with Ersatz
covered in blue fire. "Now, we will face one another in the Dance of
Death, evil Barrik! When Asti re­leases you, it will be to the finish!"

Barrik's beady eyes went wide with terror.

"Noooo!" he whimpered. He whisked the wand over his own head.

/BAMF!!!/

One second later, there was no one in the middle of the circle. Nothing
remained but the impressions of his feet in the hardened yellow glue.
Calypsa realized she was con­fronting open air. She sagged. I put out an
arm to support her, but she waved me away. Her grandfather came over to
embrace her.

"You do the family of Calypso great honor," he told her. "Thank you,
child. Thank you."

"Oh, grandfather!" she said. The two of them embraced.

"Oh, cut it out," I said. "You people can't really be like this, day
after day. It'd be like living in a soap opera."

"Oh, Aahz," Tananda said, punching me hard in the arm. "You just can't
stand it when someone's happy."

"Now, do you see how well I did that?" Asti said. "My glue is proof
against even your noise, Buirnie."

"But I am holding thousands of Diles in thrall!" the Fife protested.
"They must dance to my music!"

"It is interfering with my ability to direct a clean battle," Ersatz
said, sternly. "What if one unwittingly pranced into the

midst when Calypsa was directing a strike? I do not attack noncombatants!"

"Oh, I suppose you would let them live just because they tell you they
were only following orders?" Bozebos said, of­fensively.

The ground started to shake.

"Knock it off or I'll have to separate you!" I bellowed. "It's over. You
won."

"We did?" Kelsa asked. "Oh, yes. We did. Of course we did!"

"The archives," Payge said, with a gentle noise like a throat clearing,
"will say that Calypsa won. We were but tools to aid in the victory.
Adjuncts."

"Oh, well," Buirnie said. The kazoo music died away at last. I wiggled a
finger in my ear in relief. "At least I'll get royalties on the dance
music I wrote!"

"He's gone!" one of the guards said. "His Enchantedness is gone!"

"Oh, yes," Bozebos said, looking around at the sound of the voice. His
eyes fixed on the Diles huddled around the big room. "Them."

A thin rope of power looped out from the Ring and pen­etrated right
through the walls of the audience chamber. After a few moments, the loop
started to contract. With it came the entire contingent of the black
castle, Diles in armor, in uni­form, in livery, in cook's whites, in
chambermaid costumes, all looking panicked as the blue thread gathered
them in.

"We should slay them all," Ersatz said.

"Mercy," squeaked a Dile henchman, falling to his knobbly knees.

"Mercy!"

"You must not kill them," Calypsa said. She made a grand, sweeping
gesture. "Send them home. Send them away from our fair dimension, back
to whatever dread place that spawned them."

"It's not really so bad," one henchman muttered.

"Did she give you permission to speak?" I bellowed.

"No, sir," he said, gulping.

"That is a fair solution," Ersatz said.

"And then," Calypso said, looking around the grand room, "the Walts will
take possession of this fine castle. It will make a grand dance hall. So
many nice floors!"

Chapter 25

SINCE BARRIK WAS no longer maintaining the spells, the castle already
seemed less oppressive. Suddenly, I could hear birds sing­ing. Sun shone
in the courtyard. The Diles cast a last wistful look at the black castle
before they were banished by a spell from Payge.

With the Golden Hoard still bickering over whom was go­ing to get what
mention in the history books, I had Tananda airlift us over the
juddering ground to the castle gates. The pris­oners I had freed were
already among them. Calypsa's mother and father were at the forefront of
the crowd, their hands clasped with worry. When they saw their daughter
and their father, they started swaying and raising their hands in a
celebratory dance. I just shook my head. Pervects would never be so
undignified.

We sailed out of the building and right over the moat. Tanda set us down
in the midst of the townsfolk.

"It is a miracle!" Calypsa's mother said, embracing her daughter and her
father at once. "Come, we will feast and dance! And sing and dance! And
drink and..."

"Dance," I finished. "I get it."

"You will be our honored guests," Calypso said. "You will sit at my own
right hand and enjoy the hospitality of the Walts!"

"Thanks, pal, but no thanks," I said.

"I do not know how I can ever thank you enough," Calypsa said, embracing
me and Tananda.

"Just part of the job," I said. "Look, kid, I don't think I'm going to
stick around for the celebration."

"But why not?" the girl asked. "It will be a great event."

I shook my head. "I'm done with what I promised. Now I'd just like to go
back to where I left off on my vacation. I hope you and Ersatz live
happily ever after."

"You are still cross that you gave up your reward," Asti said. "Don't
be. It was noble. I will always remember how unselfish you were."

I winced. "Don't you let THAT get around."

"Oh, come on, Aahz," Tananda said. "Let's party. I wouldn't mind a
chance to let my hair down after all that."

The Walts were nearly as good as the Bonhomies at throwing a shindig.
Wine and hooch flowed liberally. The food was spicy, and there was
enough even to satisfy my long-thwarted appe­tite. Asti added her own
brew to the punch bowl, and every­one got pretty silly. The dancing went
on and on. And on. And on. The Walts really knew how to pound the floor.
I under­stood why they were famous for their native art form.

Calypso got up in front of the crowd and did his own in­terpretation of
his capture, imprisonment and rescue. In spite of myself I got
interested in his performance. Calypsa had a right to be proud of him.
He was every bit as good as she claimed he was. The guy elevated dance
to a level I had never known it could have. Still, the kid was no slouch
herself. I was beginning to wonder if I'd been smart to let Ersatz take
her on as an apprentice instead of taking her myself. She had the
promise to do anything she wanted to.

Nah.

After the fourth or fifth gallon of booze, I let go of my snit. After
all, I was part of history. The Walts were thrilled to be in the
presence of the Golden Hoard, who were admired and passed around the
entire village. The praise and attention kept them from getting into any
more arguments, but I knew the next one couldn't be far away. If they
really got going, it could spell catastrophe, and the Walts had just
finished with the last major disaster. Tananda warned me from time to
time when she felt tremors in the lines of force so I could defuse minor
spats. Barrik had chosen one heck of a location for his castle, in the
nexus of so much magikal energy. I felt like I was sitting on top of a
volcano.

About three o'clock in the morning of the second or third day of the
party (I had lost track of time), Calypsa, dressed in her travel
clothes, brought Ersatz to where

Tananda and I were sitting, at a table on the edge of the town square.
Two or three couples were swaying to the tune of a melancholy guitarist.

"Hey, there," I said. I gestured to a spare stool. "Take a load off."

"Aahz, we must go now," Ersatz said.

"Go?" I asked, blankly. "Go where?"

"The Hoard cannot occupy a single dimension together. Kelsa just
informed us that she foresees trouble should we not absent ourselves
from this place, and soon."

"Very soon," the Crystal Ball said, from her bag, which was slung over
Calypsa's shoulder.

That sobered me up in a flash. I got to my feet. "What do we have to do?"

"Bring all of us to one place," Ersatz said. "One in which it will be
safe to let the energy build. Nature will take care of the dispersal."

It took some doing to find where all the treasures had got­ten to in the
course of a three day party. I found Payge telling stories to a group of
solemn old men in the tavern. He had a coffee ring on one of his pages,
but he seemed happy. He wasn't surprised when I picked him up.

"Thank you, Aahz," he said. "This reduces the number of potential
outcomes of this evening to thirty-seven."

Bozebos, along with a bundle of authentic cheap costume jewelry, was
being used for dress-up by a gang of little girls who were pretending
they were the latest hero on the block, their very own Calypsa, hero of
the Walts. He seemed grateful to be rescued.

Buirnie was downright glum.

"This place is a natural for me!" he wailed.

"Maybe you'll come back on your own," I said. "In the meantime, I don't
want anything else to happen to these people. They've had enough trouble
without needing an egomaniacal Fife hanging around."

"Oh, well, on to our next triumph," the Fife declared.

Asti was in a different tavern, mixing drinks. Her sapphire eyes turned
to me as I came in.

"Sorry, boys, last orders," she said.

"Ay! You cannot leave us!" one of the males declared, touching her foot
passionately. "What will we do without you? You are matchless at
bartending."

The engraving on her side tilted upward in a wry smile. "Just drink a
toast to me once in a while."

Chin-Hwag had never left my belt. We had not said a thing to one another
since Barrik's defeat.

"How about the castle courtyard?" Tananda suggested, as we carried the
Hoard up the hill. "It's still deserted, and there's no ceiling to fall
down on us."

"Good idea," I said. "If it gets knocked down, who cares?"

"Have you said your farewells to your parents?" Ersatz said to Calypsa.

"I did," she said. She sighed. "We have done the Dance of Farewell."

"Why?" I asked. "Where's she going?"

The blue eyes slewed to me. "Calypsa has to finish her mission. She
started the Dance of Death, and it must be com­pleted. I will assist
her. But that may not be the first task we undertake. As always, we will
go where the winds of fate take us. She is my new wielder, as I am her
teacher."

"And you are on board with this crazy idea?" I asked, turn­ing to the girl.

"Oh, yes," Calypsa said. She eyed the Sword adoringly. "I knew that the
task was perilous when I undertook it. I know that with Ersatz at my
side I cannot fail."

"How can you argue with that?" Tananda asked.

We got to the castle. The moon shone down on the empty enclosure.
Kelsa's glow provided the only light.

"What do you want us to do?" I asked.

"Arrange us in a cluster in the center," Ersatz said. "We need a good
deal of room. This could be dangerous. This is

the first time we have attempted such a dispersal since the first time
it happened. It has never been done since."

"We do not know if it will be safe," Payge explained.

"But there were twenty of us, then," Bozebos said.

"Alas," Ersatz said. "I had not realized until now how few we had
become. Perhaps the time HAS come to recruit some new members to the Hoard."

"Why not?" Buirnie asked. "I've heard of an artifact or two that might
be worthy."

"As if YOU are a good judge of who belongs in the Hoard," Asti said.

"You are not even an original member," Chin-Hwag pointed out.

I felt the floor start to shift under my feet.

Tananda looked alarmed. "Save the argument until we're ready," she said.

"One thing we wish to say before we depart," Ersatz said. "We have not
met your like before. Perhaps this M.Y.T.H., Inc. was as great a
fellowship as you say. We depart to be at the side of heroes, but allow
me to state that you are of that number as well. I for one am proud to
have served with you."

I felt embarrassed. "Get outta here before I melt you down into spoons,"
I growled. Secretly, though, I was pleased.

"Now you must scatter us to the winds of fate, dear," Kelsa said.

"How?"

"Just move us close together. Then back away."

"Just one thing," I said, pausing. "You've fought in battles for
thousands of years. You could have waltzed around me at any time with
what you know about strategy. Why didn't you?"

Ersatz's eyes were amused. "Because our heroes must take a hand in their
own fates," he said. "Otherwise we are their masters, and not their
servants. Besides, you did a creditable job. Asti was never fair to you,
but she was challenging you in her own way."

'Yeah, remind me to thank her for that some time."

"You're not so bad after all," Asti said, grudgingly. "For a Pervect."

Ersatz laughed. "You are my most worthy friend, and I am at your service
at any time when you find yourself facing an epic challenge. /We /will
help you." He looked fondly at Calypsa, who looked very modest.

'Yeah, well, thanks, but I can handle myself."

"I do believe that," the Sword said.

Calypsa left the middle of the circle one more time to embrace Tananda.

"I nearly forgot," she said. She handed Tanda a small purse. "It is not
enough for all you have done for me, but it is what we agreed." The bag
jingled modestly.

"Thanks, honey," Tananda said, hugging her back affec­tionately. "I'd
almost forgotten."

"I didn't," Calypsa said, beaming. "And I never will. Goodbye."

She raced back into the midst of the Hoard. "Just out of curiosity...?"
I began.

"Ten silver coins," Tananda whispered.

'You're kidding!"

"SHHH! Just wave goodbye to the nice artifacts," she said, firmly taking
my wrist and flapping my hand at the Hoard.

Calypsa pulled the Hoard closer to her and Ersatz. Buirnie and his
entourage huddled in tight, whistling and thumping to make room. Bozebos
glittered like a disco ball in Kelsa's light. The girl pulled Asti and
Chin-Hwag close to her, and she sat down on Payge. When the items were
all touching one an­other, the gleam surrounded all of them. Calypsa's
big dark eyes picked up the glow, and her feathers seemed to turn gold.
She was one of them now.

I didn't need a tour guide or a nuclear scientist to tell me when the
Hoard energy hit critical mass. The ground heaved up and down, throwing
us both backwards. Tananda grabbed my hand and put up as much of a
protective magik shield as she could. I threw one arm over her and the
other over my head.

BOOM!

When the blast came, it was practically a nuclear explo­sion. I hung on
as the floor bucked and shimmied. It took a long time to calm down. When
I could hear again, the only noise was musical clinking. Hard little
objects rained down on me. I opened my eyes to see us and the floor
covered by a heap of shiny yellow coins.

"What the...?" I said, brushing gold out of my ears.

"I think," Tananda said with a grin, "that this is the Hoard's parting
gift for you. You earned it."

I hesitated for about a microsecond then began shoveling the money into
my poke.

"Darned right I did. Where'd Calypsa go?

"Wherever Ersatz was needed, I guess," Tananda said. "She's riding on
his ticket, now. She's going to be a legendary swordswoman. We did a lot
more than help her save her grand­father. All the things she went
through, like learning all the languages in the universe, make her an
extraordinary person, not that she wasn't one to start with. It takes
something spe­cial for a girl from a backwater dimension to break out of
the mold like that. Keep your eyes open for coming epics."

"We seem to specialize in that," I agreed. "She had some great stuff in
her, that girl."

"Is that a tear, Aahz?" Tananda cooed. "You, sentimental?"

I snorted.

"Nah, just a little dust. I like to see a legend get launched with a
bang." I jingled my refilled purse. I felt better. The Hoard wasn't such
a bunch of cranks after all. "I think I'll even go back to the party for
a while." I stuck out an elbow. "May I have the next dance?"

Tananda curled herself around my arm. "Right with you, hero."