Myth-Fortunes m-19

by Robert Asprin

  "Look, guys," I began.

  "Hold it, kid," Aahz said, raising a hand. "Samwise, you gotta mix in some larger grains into the mix. The little stuff's just eroding. It'll blow away during the next sandstorm."

  "Our climate spells prevent sandstorms in this locale," a female Ghord magician informed him with some asperity. "Perhaps it has been too long since you studied advanced weather magik?"

  "Listen, sister," Aahz said, dangerously, "I've supervised bigger projects than this, in dimensions where

  the primary currency wasn't scorpion tails and beer. You need physical matter to supplement the magik. Any idiot who lives in a structure more complicated than a blanket flung over a stick could figure that out."

  "That is enough," the chief scribe said. "My people will not work with this savage. He does not appreciate our culture."

  "Of wasting time?" Aahz asked. "Pal, every office in every dimension has the same culture as yours. The heat death of the universe is gonna be due to meetings, not inertia."

  Now my arms were starting to shake, too.

  "Aahz!" I yelled.

  Aahz snapped out of lecture mode. "That's just what I mean," he said. "You get a top-flight magician volunteering his services, and you waste his time! That's going on our billable hours, Samwise."

  "No, no, that's not in our agreement!"

  "Show me where Skeeve signed off on it," Aahz countered.

  "Fools!" Beltasar screeched, breaking off from the group. "Division One, prepare to reinforce foundation, now! Division Two, ready to relay sealant layer! Division Three, containment spell!"

  "Ready!" they shrilled. Go!

  Millions of Scarabs rose into the air and spread out across the huge empty square. They dropped armfuls of what looked like glowing dust. Where it touched, the ground lit up. I saw that not only had the corner nearest me collapsed under the weight of the building, but the foundation was covered with little cracks that gleamed like hot gold wire. The cracks melded and sealed up by themselves. The next swarm of Scarabs dropped black dust. That covered the glow in a layer of darkness. The third group filled the entire gap between the bottom of the pyramid and the ground with a network of tiny fibers like spiderwebs of magik. I felt the bond form. In fact, my fingers felt as if they were sticking together like glue. I had to force my eyelids open again when I blinked.

  "Well done! It will never shift now, not if the whole dimension goes away." Beltasar let out one more shriek. "Division Four!"

  No one responded.

  "Division Four! You, Klahd! That's you!" "Me?" I turned a blank face to her.

  Beltasar pointed a tiny fist at me. "Yes, you, Skeeve the Magnificent, lower the pyramid, please. Gently. Gently!"

  I lowered my trembling arms very, very slowly. The enormous square base sank with them until it was about my eye level. I caught a glimpse of Samwise's anxious face. He made me nervous. I was afraid I would drop it, ruining the work of hundreds of beings. I closed my eyes and concentrated, putting him out of my mind. If I could raise the pyramid, I could put it down safely.

  My hands shook like leaves. I heard a nerve-wracking rumble and everyone moaned. I forced my wrists to go rigid. In my mind's eye, I saw the tiers of stone settle onto the enormous square of sand. I had to open my eyes to make sure. I had landed it without even a thump.

  "Way to go, kid!" Aahz shouted.

  I grinned.

  Beltasar hurtled into my shoulder, the Scarab equivalent of Aahz chucking me with his fist.

  "Well done, well done!" she trilled. "We shall vote on making you an honorary Scarab! And," she added generously, "there will be no fine against an unlicensed builder on site! However," she turned to Samwise, "I call for fines for running an unsafe construction zone."

  "How about that?" I asked Aahz. I was still marveling at having moved a whole building by myself.

  Aahz gave me a wry half-grin. "Remind me to call you if I ever need to change a tire."

  "Into what?" I asked. I was proud not to have to ask what a tire was; I had visited Perv and seen the vehicles they drove. But Aahz still looked exasperated.

  "Thank you, thank you," Samwise exclaimed, rushing up to pump my hand. I nodded. I had never felt so exhausted in my life. "No wonder they call you Skeeve the Magnificent! I had no idea!"

  I felt proud. Me, the same apprentice who had been unable to light a candle for Garkin, or make a feather fly without drenching myself in sweat! I had lifted an entire building and not cracked a single brick. The Scarabs and Ghords kept glancing back at me. Glyphs flew back and forth around the site, and everyone who received one looked at me, too. I rubbed the back of my neck with both hands. Now that the power had abated, I was no longer buzzing. I felt numb.

  "Sorry for not seeing what kind of fix you were in at first, kid," Aahz said, giving me a companionable slap on the back. "I don't get into good arguments like that much anymore. I love playing Deveel's advocate against office politics."

  I didn't mind Aahz having fun. I hadn't dropped the ball, er, pyramid anyhow.

  "What caused the break?"

  "I don't know. That shouldn't have happened," Aahz scratched his head thoughtfully. "The local magik looks pretty strong. Lots of force lines. Shouldn't be this full of problems. That foundation ought to have held a dozen buildings this size until the second day of forever. I wonder if Diksen had the same trouble. Do you know if he did?" he asked Samwise.

  The Imp turned from his admiring regard of me, to my relief.

  "Of course not, Aahz! As far as I know he has had no troubles like mine at all."

  Aahz was unimpressed. "You're not a magician. How would you know? He might have had to counterspell someone's interference, or counteract a curse."

  Samwise was indignant. "I just know! He would have said something. . . . Well, mumbled something. Diksen doesn't like to talk a lot. . . . Well, not to me."

  "I can't see why not," Aahz said dryly. "All right, Skeeve, what do you say? Shall we drop in on the neighbor and get a heads up?"

  "Sure," I said. "I want to get a look inside that ball of water."

  "Let's go catch a Camel." Aahz headed toward the walkway that led to the pier.

  "No!" Samwise sputtered, jumping in front of us. "You don't want to do that. He hates to be bothered!"

  "It's no bother," Aahz said, handing him aside firmly. "It's a courtesy call, two master magicians, new in town, stopping in to pay respects to the local head honcho. He's probably wondering why we haven't come around before this. We ought to pick up a box of oranges or a bottle of booze as a gift."

  "But why?" Samwise wailed, wringing his hands as he strode to keep up with us. "Why bother Diksen?"

  "It's not a bother," Aahz explained, starting to lose his patience. "It's the neighborly thing to do, since we're going to be working around here for a while. I'd like to ask him what his take is on the accidents, see if he's been having trouble he can't explain."

  "Oh, no," Samwise exclaimed. "You don't want to do that!"

  Aahz studied him. "The more you tell me not to visit Diksen, the more I want to do it. You're starting to make me think you never worked for him at all."

  Samwise raised his hands in protest. "Yes, I did! Really, I did. He's a good guy, honest, Aahz. He just hates, I mean, hates interruptions. We parted on good terms. It's just that's one of the reasons I left. His studies were more important than good employee relations." He rubbed his backside, and I guessed a little of how the magician had expressed his displeasure at being bothered in the middle of his studies. That made up our minds to try and talk to him as soon as possible. "I just want to prevent you from making the same mistakes I did."

  "You've warned us," Aahz said curtly. "Is there security around the pavilion? Are we going to have to fight our way through cold-seeking lasers or anti-personnel cantrips?"

  "Nothing. I once suggested an array of stasis bombs, because he has some really valuable artifacts in that office suite, but he didn't want to bother. There isn't really a need for specia
l security measures around Diksen."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "He's a very powerful magician," Samwise said, as if that ought to have been obvious to me. The hero worship of a few moments ago was already relegated to the past. "He can do things to people who piss him off. Personally."

  "Urn, what kind of things?" I asked, glancing at Aahz. We were better off being prepared.

  "Oh, you know, the usual kinds of catastrophic magik: transformations, banishments . . . death. You know." The Imp squirmed a little.

  Aahz and I exchanged a look. I wondered if Samwise had ever really witnessed any of that revenge. Sometimes having the reputation for being the biggest, baddest, toughest, meanest magik-slinger in town was a whole lot better than ever having to prove it.

  We left Samwise protesting and called a Camel.

  Chapter 13

  "Should auld acquaintance be forgot?"

  —Inspector Javert

  Now that Aahz and I had become known as people who paid for service and even left tips (Aahz's a little less generously than mine), we were customers to be sought after among the local transportation industry.

  "Mister Skeeve!" cried Tritza, a Camel with rich sable hair and eyelashes three inches long. She sidled up to the pier and fluttered her eyelids at us. "Climb up, climb up. Beautiful day for a ride. Where are you going?"

  "Not your turn for a fare, Tritza," snapped Mobor, a stout Camel whose fur was patchy brown and white. He cut in front of her and made it to my feet first. "It is for me to ask. Where would you like me to take you?" he demanded, turning his piebald snoot my way.

  I couldn't decide between the two. They were both reliable, safe drivers, and hadn't tried to cheat me too badly on fares. Yet.

  "You know you shouldn't take the first or second cab to offer itself," Aahz said dryly, as the beasts clamored for our attention.

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Rules of Victorian detection," he said.

  "What's a Victorian?" I asked.

  "No fun, uncomfortable clothes, really awful food," he replied, and counted off among the Camels waiting for our attention. "Eeny meeny miney moe, catch a taxi by the . . . you guys have toes on those feet you don't want anyone to see? Forget it. Balu, you win." He beckoned over a young Camel. "You're reliable. You promise not to glyph while driving?"

  "No, sir, no!" Balu exclaimed, then looked down guiltily at where his forepaws would be if they were visible above the sandline. "I will stop, sir. Climb aboard."

  "Not fair!" complained Chibar, a tan Camel.

  "He jumped the line!" Tritza protested.

  "The end of the line is where he belongs," insisted Obrigadu, a jet black Camel.

  Aahz and I paid no attention and clambered in between Balu's humps. The young Camel looked pleased with himself. He eased smoothly away from the jetty. The others crowded in, bumping him. He bucked as if someone pinched or kicked him underneath the surface of the sand. Aahz and I bounced.

  "Hey!" I protested. The others looked shamefaced and moved a little farther away.

  "Where do you wish to go?" Balu asked over his shoulder.

  "Diksen's pavilion," I said.

  Suddenly, the Camels stopped and stared. "You don't want to go there," Mobor said. "Why the hell not?" Aahz asked.

  "He is merciless to intruders," Tritza said, her eyes wide. "How do you think Mobor lost most of his hair?"

  "I told you, it is a bad haircut," the piebald Camel protested. "She is lying, sirs. But she is right about Diksen. He is a terrible Ghord."

  "What about it, Balu?" Aahz asked. "Are you going to chicken out, or will you take us?"

  The young Camel swallowed hard. "If you will protect me, I will take you. But it must cost extra, sirs. Hazard pay is required for certain destinations."

  "Hazard pay—!" Aahz bellowed.

  "I'll pay you double the usual fare," I cut in. "Can we go? I want to get there before business hours are over."

  "Very well, sir," Balu said with a sigh. He paused. "One moment. I must glyph to my wife to tell her I love her, in case I do not come back."

  "It can't be that bad," Aahz snapped. Balu said nothing, his forepaws busy beneath the sand. In a moment, he kicked out into the quicksands and set out due east across the desert. The other Camels bade him a mournful farewell.

  I shrugged. "Maybe it could." We had met plenty of powerful magicians in our time, some of whom wanted to kill us, like The Ax (who became a close friend later on5), some of whom were actually insane, like Istvan, and some of whom just liked being the only ones in town with power.

  As we cut across the expanse of desert, Samwise's low-rise project disappeared behind the sand dunes. In no time you wouldn't have been able to tell anything was there except for the tiny shapes of glyphs flying around and the magikal framework that thrust upward from the partially-finished pyramid. Ahead lay the gleaming white of Diksen's building. At sand level, it was awe-inspiring and beautiful, but from a magician's point of view, it was completely overshadowed by the much smaller shape hovering behind it, yards above the desert floor.

  Yes, so a ball of water was ostentatious in an arid dimension, but it was truly impressive.

  Aahz and I offered guesses on what kind of power structure he used to keep its shape, and whether he had problems with evaporation or not. I looked forward to friendly discussions with Diksen. I admired his imagination.

  We were able to get within a dozen yards of the pyramid's base. The afternoon sun glared at us from the tilted white wall. I had to throw up a sheet of magik to keep us from being toasted from sheer reflected heat. Balu veered around the square foundation and made his way toward the glimmering office building, which looked just like a giant crystal ball.

  I took a good look around. Samwise had been right. I saw no security measures, not even lines of force laid down to prevent intruders. Diksen clearly felt he had no reason to populate his remote fortress with the army of guards that Samwise employed. I felt a twinge of envy for the kind of reputation that could keep people away without what I considered the minimum of actual protection. I said as much to Aahz.

  "Don't count him out yet, kid," Aahz said, peering even more critically at the two structures than I had. I felt a little annoyed, but I had nothing on Aahz when it came to functional suspicion. He'd saved me before by assuming the worst about other people. I hated to think that I was naive— but I had to be honest: in comparison with him I was naive. Still, I hardly ever found a problem with assuming the best about other people.

  Diksen was so unconcerned about intruders that our Camel managed to glide directly underneath the wavering sphere.

  "How do we get in?" I asked.

  "It's water," Aahz said. "We'll swim."

  Making it look good for Balu, Aahz held out his arms and pretended to be dredging power up from one of the force lines underneath the desert floor. I sat watching him, but I was the one who really internalized some of the available magik and lifted us straight off the Camel's back.

  "Wait for us," Aahz called down to Balu. The Camel nodded nervously at us, and the sand in front of his chest began to roil. He was glyphing to his wife again.

  "Blub!" I exclaimed, as my head plunged through the water barrier. Aahz grinned at me, bubbles filtering out between his teeth. I had not been paying attention, as he had, to how high we were rising. The outer shell of the sphere was more than eight feet deep. Once I was completely surrounded by water, I kicked with both my feet, desperate to reach air.

  My lungs burned. My cheeks bulged as I struggled to hold in my half-breath. A solid rim that rested on the interior surface came into view. I swam to it, grabbed the edge, and pulled myself up. There, I lay there on my back, gasping in as much air as I could.

  "Good afternoon," a young Ghordess said. She sat crosslegged on the floor, which I now observed ran in a broad ring all the way around the bottom level of the bubble of water. A fold of her linen skirt was stretched across her knees to create a level platform. On it lay a papyrus s
heet inscribed with a dozen symbols. The feather pen in her hand was black with ink at the end, as if I had interrupted her in her work. "May I help you?"

  "Hey, baby," Aahz said, with an ingratiating grin. "We'd like to see your boss."

  She regarded him primly. "Do you have an appoint-ment?"

  Once I had recovered from nearly drowning, I realized that she was a very pretty girl by Klahdish standards. She had a narrow face with large, dark eyes and high cheekbones. She wore the usual headdress, but I noted that there was a hole in the middle on top of her head to make room for three tall feathers like the one in her hand. The rest of her hair hung like long strands of black down. A couple of large, sand-colored cats sat on pedestals behind her and batted at the erect plumes. It seemed to annoy her, but she did not chase them away or even chastise them.

  Even though there were no chairs, the rest of the office was modern, even more modern than Bunny's back at M.Y.T.H.,

  Inc., headquarters. A computer, a philosophical device with which I had become familiar in Kobol, sat on a low table behind her. The three rows of keys were marked with hieroglyphs. Ornamented chests stood with their lids flung back to expose rolls of papyri with colored labels stuck to the uppermost edge. From where I sat I tried to read the glyphs on the labels, but I was too far away. A sharp glance from the secretary reminded me I was snooping. I gave her a grin.

  "We're new in town," I explained. "Visiting magicians. This is Aahz, and my name is Skeeve. We thought it would be polite to drop in on Diksen and get to know him a little. We'll probably be around for a month or so."

  She beamed at us. "That is good news!" she said. "He will welcome you with a full heart."

  "See," Aahz said. "That's not what we heard."

  "Oh, no, he enjoys conversation with other magikal practitioners."

  One of the cats took a swipe that bent all three feathers over the girl's eyes. She raised a hand to straighten them, and the cat recoiled with a protesting mew.