Sweet Myth-tery of Life

by Robert Asprin

  I was silent for a few moments. I thought of trying to tell her about the long hours and work I and my team were putting in trying to straighten out the kingdom’s finances. I even considered showing her some of the cryptic spreadsheets on my desk . . . but decided against it. She might be able to decipher them, and if she could would doubtless ask some embarrassing questions about the hefty fee I was taking for my services. I was having trouble justifying that to myself, much less to her.

  The inescapable conclusion, however, was that no matter what I had thought lovely Luanna was like, we were worlds apart in our views of people and how they should be treated.

  Reaching into our petty cash drawer, I started counting some coins.

  “Tell you what, Luanna,” I said, not looking up. “You said you needed fifty to seventy-five in gold? Well I’m going to give you a hundred and fifty . . . double to triple what you asked for ... not as a loan or an investment, just as a gift.”

  “But why would you ...”

  “. . . There are two conditions, though,” I continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “First, that you use some of the extra money for travel. Go off dimension or to another part of Klah ... I don’t care. Just so long as when you start to run your swindle, it’s not in Possiltum.”

  “Okay, but . . .”

  “And second,” I said, setting the stack of coins on the edge of the desk near her, “I want you to promise that you will never see or speak to me . . . ever again . . . starting now.”

  For a moment, I thought she was going to speak. She opened her mouth, then hesitated, shrugged, and shut it again. In complete silence she gathered up the coins and left, shutting the door behind her.

  I poured myself another goblet of wine and moved to the window, staring out at the view without really seeing anything. Dreams die hard, but whatever romantic thoughts I had ever had involving Luanna had just been squashed pretty thoroughly. I couldn’t change that, but I could mourn their passing.

  There was a soft knock at the door, and my heart took a sudden leap. Maybe she had changed her mind! Maybe she had thought it over and decided to return the money in favor of a legitimate business loan!

  “Come in,” I called, trying not to sound to eager.

  The door opened, and a vampire walked in.

  Chapter Seven

  “You just don’t know women.”

  H. Hefner

  “WINE? NO THANKS. Never touch the stuff.”

  “Oh. That’s right. Sorry, Vic,” I said, refilling my own goblet.

  “You know,” my guest said, settling himself more comfortably in his seat, “it’s women like Luanna that give vampires a bad name. They’re the ones who will mercilessly suck someone dry, and the concept sort of slopped over onto us!”

  In case you’re wondering (or have neglected to read the earlier books in this series), Vic is the one who walked into my room at the end of the last chapter, and yes he is a vampire. Actually, he’s a pretty nice guy . . . about my age and a fairly successful magician in his own right. He just happens to come from Limbo, a dimension that’s primarily “peopled” by vampires, werewolves, and the like.

  Apparently he had stopped by our office on Deva looking to invite me out for lunch. When Tananda, who was currently minding the fort for us, told him where I was, he decided to pop over for a visit. (As an aside, one of his Limbo-born talents is the ability to travel the dimension without mechanical aid . . . something I’ve always envied and wanted to learn.)

  Truth to tell, I was more than a little glad to see Vic, He was one of the few in my acquaintance who was familiar with the trials and tribulations of being a professional magician, yet wasn’t an actual member of our crew. Not meaning any disrespect or criticism of my colleagues, mind you, but . . . well . . . they were more like family and my actions and future definitely affected them, whereas Vic was a bit more able to stand apart and view things objectively. This made it a lot easier to express my feelings and problems to him, which I had proceeded to do, starting with Queen Hemlock’s proposal and running it right up through my recent rather disheartening meeting with Luanna.

  Until he brought it up, I had forgotten that he had met Luanna. In fact, he had worked with her and Matt, and consequently gone on the lam with them . . . which was when I met him in the first place. As such, he knew the lady under discussion far better than I did, and my new analysis of her seemed more in line with his earlier formed opinions than with my own cherished daydreams.

  “I can’t say much about what you’re doing with the kingdom’s budgets and stuff,” the vampire said with an easy shrug. “That’s out of my league. It does occur to me, though, that you’re having more than your share of woman problems.”

  “You can say that again,” I agreed, toasting him with my goblet.

  “I’ll admit I’m a bit surprised,” Vic continued. “I would have thought that someone with your experience would have been able to side-step some of these tangles . . . and definitely spotted a gold-digger like Luanna a mile away.”

  I hesitated for a moment, then decided to level with him.

  “To be honest with you, Vic, I haven’t had all that much experience with women.”

  “Really?” The vampire was gratifyingly surprised.

  “Let’s just say that while Aahz and the others have been fairly diligent about teaching me the ins and outs of business and magik, there have been certain areas of my education that have been woefully and annoyingly neglected.”

  “Now that I might be able to help you with.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I had been momentarily lost in my own thoughts, and had somehow missed a turn in the conversation.

  “It’s easy,” Vic said with a shrug. “You’re having trouble making up your mind whether or not you should get married at all ... much less to Queen Hemlock. Right?”

  “Well ...”

  “Right?” he pressed.

  “Right.”

  “To me, the problem is that you don’t have enough information to make an educated decision.”

  “You can say that again,” I said heavily, gulping at my wine. “What’s more, between the workload here and Queen Hemlock’s timetable, I don’t figure I’m going to get any, either.”

  “That’s where I think I can help you,” my guest smiled, leaning back in his chair again.

  “Excuse me?” I said, fighting off the feeling that our conversation was caught in an unending loop.

  “What would you say to a blind date?”

  That one caught me totally off guard.

  “Well . . . the same thing I’d say to a date that could see, I imagine,” I managed at last. “The trouble is, I haven’t had any experience with either ...”

  “No, no,” the vampire interrupted. “I mean, How would you like me to fix you up with a date? Someone you’ve never seen before?”

  “That would have to be the case,” I nodded. “I don’t recall ever having met a blind person . . . male or female. Not that I’ve consciously avoided them, mind you ...”

  “Hold it! Stop!” Vic said, holding up one hand while pressing the other to his forehead.

  It occurred to me that, in that pose, he looked more than a little like Aahz.

  “Let’s try this again . . . from the top. We were talking about your needing more experience with women. What I’m suggesting is that I line you up with a date . . . someone I know ... so you can get that experience. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I nodded. “You know someone who’s blind. Tell me, should I act any different around her?”

  “No. ... I mean, yes! NO!”

  Vic seemed to be getting very worked up over the subject, and more than a little confused . . . which made two of us.

  “Look, Skeeve,” he said finally, through clenched teeth. “The girl I’m thinking about is not blind. She’s perfectly normal. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, hesitantly, looking for the hook. “A perfectly normal, average girl.”

  “Well . . .
not all that normal, or average,”, the vampire smiled, relaxing a bit. “She’s a lot of fun ... if you get what I mean. And she’s a real looker . . . knock your eyes out beautiful.”

  “You mean I’ll go blind?”

  Out of my merciful nature and in the interest of brevity (too late), I’ll spare you the blow by blow account of the rest of the conversation. Let it suffice to say that, by the time Vic departed, it had been established that he would arrange for me to step out with a lovely lady of his acquaintance . . . one who was in full command of her senses . . . sort of (that part still confused me a little) . . . and who would not adversely affect my health or senses, but would, if Vic were to be believed, advance my education regarding the opposite sex to dizzying heights.

  It sounded good to me. Like any healthy young man, I had a normal interest in women . . . which is to say I didn’t think of them more than three or four times a day. My lack of first hand experience I attributed to a dearth of opportunity, which apparently was about to be remedied. To say I was looking forward to my date would be an understatement ... a VAST understatement.

  However the events of the day weren’t over yet.

  There was a knock at the door, but this time I wasn’t going to get caught making any assumptions.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “General Badaxe,” came the muffled response. “I was wondering if you could spare me a moment?”

  I was more than a little surprised. The General and I had never been on particularly good terms, and it was rare if ever that he called on me in my personal quarters. Casting about for an explanation, it occurred to me that he was probably more than a little upset at the cutbacks I had made in the army and military budget. In the same thought, it occurred to me that he might be out to murder me in my own room ... or, at least, mess me up a little. As fast as the idea surfaced, however, I discarded it. Whatever else the General was, he was as straightforward and non-scheming as anyone I had ever met. If he meant to do me harm, it would doubtless be on the spur of the moment when we encountered each other in the halls or courtyard of the castle . . . not by stealth in my room. In short, I felt I could rule out premeditated mayhem. If he were going to kill me, it would be spontaneous ... a thought that didn’t settle my mind as much as I hoped it would.

  “Come in,” I called . . . and he did.

  It was, indeed, the General of Possiltum’s army, and without his namesake massive axe, for a change. Not that it’s absence made him notice ably less dangerous, mind you, as Badaxe was easily the largest man I had ever met. Upon viewing him, however, I was a bit embarrassed by my original worries. Rather than the stern, angry countenance I was accustomed to, he seemed very ill at ease and uncomfortable.

  “Sorry to interrupt your work, Lord Magician,” he said, nervously looking about the room, “but I find it necessary to speak to you on ... a personal matter.”

  “Certainly, General,” I said, trying to put him at his ease. Strangely, I found that his obvious discomfort was making me uneasy. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, I’d rather stand.”

  So much for putting him at ease.

  “As you wish,” I nodded. “What is it you wanted to see me about?”

  I realized with some chagrin that I was falling into a formal speech pattern, but found that I couldn’t help it. Badaxe seemed bound and determined to be somber, and I felt obligated to respond in kind.

  “Well ... I’d like to speak to you about your apprentice.”

  “Aahz?” I said. As far as the kingdom was concerned, Aahz was my loyal student.

  “What’s he done now?”

  “No . . . not Aahz.” the General clarified hastily. “I was referring to Massha.”

  “Massha?” I blinked. This was truly a surprise. As far as I knew, Massha and the General had always gotten along fine. “Very well. What’s the problem?

  “Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Lord Magician.

  There’s no problem. Quite the contrary. I wanted to speak to you taking her hand in marriage.”

  On a day of surprises, this announcement caught me the most off guard.

  “Why?” I sputtered, unable to think of anything else to say.

  The General’s brow darkened noticeably.

  “If you’re referring to her less than slender appearance, or perhaps the difference in our age . . .”he began in a deep growl.

  “No, you misunderstand me,” I said hastily, cutting him off ... though once he mentioned them, both points were worth reflecting on. “I meant, why should you want to speak to me about such a matter?”

  “Oh. That.”

  For the moment, at least, Badaxe seemed mollified. I mentally made a note to table any discussion of the two points he had raised until another time.

  “It’s really rather simple, Lord Magician,” the General was continuing. “Though I suppose it’s rather old fashioned of me, I felt I should follow proprieties and establish my good intentions by stating them in advance. Normally I’d speak to her father, but, in this case, you seem to be the closest thing to a father she has.”

  Now I was truly flabbergasted. Mostly because, try as I might, I couldn’t find a hole in his logic. He was right. Even though she was older than me, Massha had never spoken of her family at all ... much less a father. What was more, this was one I couldn’t even fob off on Aahz. Since she was my apprentice, I was responsible for her care and well-being as well as her training. If there was anyone the General should speak to on matters regarding Massha’s future, it was me!

  “I see,” I said, stalling for time to think. “And what does Massha have to say about this?”

  “So far, I haven’t spoken to her directly on the subject,” Badaxe admitted uneasily, “though I have reason to believe the idea wouldn’t be totally unwelcome to her. Frankly, I felt that I should attempt to gain your approval first.”

  “And why is that?”

  I was getting better at this stalling game, and questions were a handy weapon.

  The General eyed me levelly.

  “Come, come, Lord Magician,” he said. “I thought that we had long since agreed there was no need to bandy words between us. You know as well as I that Massha has a great deal of affection for you. What’s more, there is the added loyalty of an apprentice to her teacher. While I have never shied from either battle or competition, I would prefer to spare her any unnecessary anguish. That is, I feel it would aid my case immensely if, at the same time I asked her to be my wife, I could state that I had spoken with you and that you had no personal or professional objections to such a match. That is, of course, assuming you don’t.”

  I was silent for a few moments, reflecting on what he had said. Specifically, I was berating myself for being so selfish in my thinking, of only considering the consequences to me in my decision of whether or not to marry Queen Hemlock. Even when I had been thinking of my friends and colleagues, I had been looking at it in terms of my loss of their friendship, not what it might mean to them.

  “Then again, perhaps I was wrong in my assumption.”

  The General’s words interrupted my thoughts, and I was suddenly aware that he had been waiting for a response from me.

  “Forgive me, General . . . Hugh,” I said hastily. I had to think quickly to recall his first name. “I was simply lost in thought for a moment. Certainly I have no objections. I’ve always held you in the highest regard, and, if Massha is amenable, I would be the last to stand between her and happiness. Feel free to proceed with my approval . . . and best wishes.”

  Badaxe seized my hand and pumped it hard . . . unfortunately before I could pull it away in alarm.

  “Thank you, Lord . . . Skeeve,” he said with an intensity I had only seen him express in battle planning. “I ... Thank you.”

  Releasing my hand, he strode to the door, opened it, then paused.

  “Were it not for the fact that, assuming she agrees, of course, I expect Massha will ask you to give the bride away, I’d ask you to ho
nor me by standing as my best man.”

  Then he was gone . . . which was just as well, as I had no idea what to say in response.

  Massha and Badaxe. Married.

  Try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind around the concept . . . which is a comment on the limits of my imagination and NOT on their respective physical sizes, individually or as a twosome.

  Finally, I abandoned the effort completely. Instead, I poured myself another goblet of wine and settled back for the far more pleasant exercise of speculating on my own upcoming date.

  Chapter Eight

  “Love is blind. Lust isn’t!”

  D. Giovani

  I FOUND MYSELF experiencing mixed feelings as I prepared for my date that evening. On the one hand, I wasn’t real sure about how much fun it would be spending an entire evening with a woman I had never met before. While I had a certain amount of faith in Vic not to stick me with a real loser, it occurred to me that it would be nice to have some vague idea of what she was going to look like. Heck, if she turned out to be a lousy conversationalist, the evening could still turn out okay if she was at least fun to look at.

  Despite my nagging concerns, however, there was no denying I felt a certain measure of excitement as the time drew near. As Vic had observed, I didn’t really have a lot of experience with dating. Specifically, this was going to be my first date . . . ever. Now don’t get me wrong, I knew a fair number of women, but I had met all of them in the course of business. Before I met Aahz, I had been living alone with Garkin in a shack in the woods . . . which is not the greatest way to meet females. Since tying on with Aahz, my life had gotten noticeably more exciting, but there was little time for a social life. What off time I did have was usually spent with other members of our crew, and while they were good company for the most part, it left little room for outsiders. Consequently, the idea of spending an entire evening with a strange woman just to be spending time together was a real treat . . . and more than a little scary.