“Look, a Pervert!” someone in the stadium cried.
“That’s Per-vect!” Aahz called back, showing more good humor than I would have believed possible. “Read your program!”
We were shoved, pushed, and pulled up a ramp to a curtained area out of sight of the mob. Wince was already there, pulling on a fresh pair of fingerless gloves.
“Hey, guys, are you ready?”
“We certainly are,” Aahz said. “Listen, when you’re ready, take me first. I want to tell the crowd my story. Plead my case. I’ve had a pretty amazing life. They’ll eat it up.”
The executioner tilted his head. His silver eyes glittered.
“Sounds good. They love backstory. It makes the session more, I don’t know, poignant. I’ll get back to you.”
“Let me go, you escapees from a B-picture!”
Two more guards clumped up the ramp. Between them, they held a small iron cage with Markie inside. It was just big enough for her to crouch in. It did nothing to dampen the sound of her voice. The Cupy female hammered furiously at the bars.
“Let me out of this crate! You’re going to be sorry! I’ll rip your head off!”
Haroon trotted dejectedly behind a guard who held an iron ball in his arms. It was attached by a chain around the Canidian’s neck.
Gleep was tied down to a rolling platform. He wore a muzzle on his nose. I noticed that his normally razor-sharp talons had been clipped short. When he saw me, he whimpered. I pushed away from my guards to get close to him. They wanted to stop me, but their master waved them away.
“No problem,” Wince said. “You can’t unlock these chains, so it doesn’t matter if you’re all together. Get ready for your entrance! Make it a good one, huh? The crowd loves cries for mercy.”
He pushed aside the curtain and strode out onto the stage. The audience wailed and cheered.
Gleep leaned against me.
“Skeeve . . . scared . . . ?”
“No, I’m not afraid,” I said. I was lying, but if it helped him feel brave, I would lie until Wince tore my tongue out. “Aahz said it’s just a show. We’ll go along with it, for now. I’ll protect you.”
No muzzle ever made could stop a dragon’s tongue. Gleep slurped me through the leather straps. I gagged at the smell of the slime.
Markie pushed at the little box, then slumped, defeated.
“This is not the way I saw myself shuffling off the mortal coil,” she said.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Aahz said, grandly. “Just enjoy the show.”
Beyond the curtain, fresh shrieks and howls as if from a thousand Furies’ throats arose. The sound of twanging wires and frenzied pounding accompanied them.
“How horrible!” I said, holding my palms to my ears. “What terrible pain those people are suffering!”
Aahz grinned.
“That’s music, partner. They’re singing.”
“That’s music? It sounds like terrible torture!”
A single loud scream pierced the air. Aahz held up a finger.
“Now, that’s torture. Staged, of course.”
“And we’re next.” I gulped. We peered through the curtain.
Wince took center stage, now with a long, blacker-than-black cloak that looked like a hole in reality draped over his shoulders. From it, Wince removed knives, swords, and a massive poleax that could have cut through a castle gate. The crowd cheered with every deadly piece of iron that appeared. Finally, he hauled forth the square-tipped sword. Wince whirled it around in a figure eight, then handed it off to one of his assistants. I gawked.
“Where did all that come from? Another dimension?”
“Foolyagain cloth,” Aahz said, admiringly. “Only the real executioners have it. It’s where they carry the tools of the trade. This guy’s the real deal.”
“Small comfort,” Markie said. “But at least it’ll be fast.”
“Only if he wants it to be,” Aahz said. “I’ve heard of torture sessions that last for days. One of them went on so long the crowd left before it was all over.”
“I ain’t too young to die,” Haroon said, lifting his chin in a stalwart manner. “I’ll ask him to take me first. I’ll try and distract them so’s the rest of you can get away.”
“No!” I said, smashing my fist into my palm in spite of the chains. “We all leave together.”
“That’s the spirit,” Aahz said.
“How?” Markie asked.
“Simple,” Aahz said. “Wince is a showman. He likes things to flow. I’ll volunteer to be the first victim. Since everyone thinks we’re condemned prisoners, I’m going to tell our story to the crowd. It’ll add to the tension. Then Wince will do his thing. I’ll keep him busy. He won’t be paying attention to you, so he won’t dampen your magik. At the right dramatic moment, you”—he nodded to Markie—“kick out everything you’ve got. When you have them distracted, Skeeve’s going to yank us out of here.”
Markie grinned fiercely. “I’m in.”
“I’m still not sure I can do it, Aahz.”
“Sure you can, kid. Didn’t I teach you everything you know?”
I couldn’t reply, because at that moment, the guards prodded us out onto the stage. I blinked in the blinding light of hundreds of torches. The band played an enormous crescendo, and the audience broke into applause and cheers. We all stayed close together. I kept my arms around Gleep’s neck. Haroon leaned against my leg.
Wince strode over to us and spread a hand in our direction.
“Behold! Lawbreakers who have trespassed on our domain! What do we DO with lawbreakers? We break them! Yeah!”
The crowd screamed their approval. I gazed out at the sea of frenzied faces and shuddered. Aahz cringed.
“The guy could really use better scriptwriters,” he said.
“None who pass our borders ever pass out again!”
“No!!!” the crowd yelled. Some of them waved farm implements and ancient swords.
“Really?” Aahz commented, looking at his talons. He picked an invisible piece of mud from underneath one of them. “That was pitiful.”
“Aahz!” I hissed. “He’s stirring them up against us.”
“All part of the show.”
“And now, we must take our awful vengeance against lawbreakers! Are you with me? Are you ready?”
“YEEESSSSSS!” the crowd shrieked.
“Here we go, partner,” Aahz said. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
Even with my arms around Gleep, I was shaking hard enough to vibrate down through the boards of the stage. I looked out into the bloodthirsty eyes of the mob. They were slavering for blood—my blood.
“Aahz, is this really all just an act?”
In spite of the clanking manacles, Aahz swept a casual hand in an arc.
“Sure it is. Now, pay attention. You’re going to get just one shot. Otherwise, if the audience loves us, we’ll end up on the playbill every day for the next month. Make sure you collect all five of us when you get the spell working. No matter where we end up, it’s got to be better than here.”
“All right,” I said. In the center of the stage, Wince was dancing, sweeping that dark cloak of his around in a circle as the band played more of its bloodcurdling music. The black-clad servants carried a heavy wooden table out into the center of the stage. At each end were hoop-shaped clamps of steel polished to a gray sheen. The table’s ancient planks were stained with dried blood in dozens of colors, some of it red. Like mine. Aahz grabbed my chin and yanked it so I was looking at him instead.
“It’s all up to you,” Aahz said, looking me square in the eyes. “Picture where you want to go. Be absolutely focused on your goal. Make certain that your mental image is as accurate as you can make it. If not, you could transport us to someplace that is similar but still not right. You got that?
”
“Got it,” I said, concentrating hard.
“Every detail, down to the smell. Be careful. If you picture the scent of roses, but we left a vase of dahlialions on the desk, we could end up in a curio shop somewhere on Brinny.”
“I understand,” I said.
“And don’t forget, everything has to be three-dimensional. I might survive a trip into Flatland, but you won’t.”
“I got it!” I cried.
“Stop it, Aahz!” Markie scolded him. “You’re going to throw him off!”
They glared at one another. Aahz lifted a lip in a sneer.
“Listen, shortcake, if he can’t do magik under pressure, then he’s never going to be much of a magician!”
“Aahz, face it,” I said so calmly I surprised myself. “I’m never going to be much of a magician. But I’ll do my best.”
“You can do it, partner,” Aahz said. “I know you can.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I nodded.
“Pick just one place,” Aahz said. “We can cope with it no matter what. Just use enough power to get us out of here. I’m going to start my speech, then Markie’s going to throw her whole bucket of weather magik at Wince to distract him. You have to be ready.”
“All right,” I said. I drew a deep breath and tried to focus my thoughts on the office.
“Keep your mind on the details. The smallest thing can throw you off.”
“Okay.”
“We could even get tossed back in time if you picture something that isn’t there anymore.”
“Aahz!” Markie said.
“What?”
She put on her very sweetest expression. “Please be quiet and let Skeeve concentrate.”
Aahz looked abashed.
“Uh. Yeah. Sorry, partner. Just try not to beam us into the heart of a rock.”
I moaned. Now I couldn’t picture anything but the center of a rock. Gleep snaked his long head up and fixed his large blue eyes on mine.
“Gleep!” he said. His long pink tongue darted out. I tried to avoid it. Gaaaah! A trail of slime covered my face from ear to ear.
But his distraction had worked. He reminded me of home. Our office in the Bazaar at Deva was like nothing anywhere else in the dimensions. It smelled of dragon slime, Guido’s aftershave, Bunny’s perfume, the spicy scent that was unadulterated Tananda, candle wax, ink, scrolls, and the smell of well-handled gold coins. It was all ours, and I knew it better than I knew my own name. I nodded again.
They were all counting on me. I had never gone from such a hostile location on my own before. The crossing from Winslow had been a strange one, with at least two or three bounces involved. I had to take us to Deva in one, because I couldn’t count on recalling the details of the intermediary stops. It was tricky, but I had to do it.
The music rose to a crescendo. Wince stopped his wild whirling and stalked toward us with a purposeful gleam in his silver eyes.
“I’m ready,” Aahz said, his back straight and his chin high.
“That’s great, man,” Wince said. “But we’re gonna take the Klahd first.”
“What?” I squawked. “No!”
“You can’t do that! I’ve got my whole speech ready!” Aahz protested. Wince waved a hand.
“Yeah, I know! I’m saving you for the grand finale. Minions!”
“Hey, wait, no!” I shouted, as Wince’s guards dragged me toward the torture table.
“Let him go!” Aahz bellowed. “You’re ruining my timing!”
I fought hard, but the guards pulled my arms above my head and tied them down to one end of the bloodstained boards. My legs were fastened to the other end. I kicked and writhed, trying to get free.
Wince looked down at me. He ran a thumb along the edge of the rounded blade of the knife in his hand. A thin line appeared on his skin where it had passed, and a drop of ink-black blood rolled down into his frilly cuff.
“Ready?” Wince asked.
“No!” I growled, my chest heaving. The executioner regarded me with disappointment.
“Come on, man, scream. Let it all out, or people will think you’re not getting the whole Wince experience. Okay?” He glanced up at a sudden roll of thunder. A fork of white lightning crackled across the sky. “Hey, look, it’s going to rain! This will be the best show I’ve had in years!”
A spark of hope kindled in my chest.
Markie!
Within seconds, the winds whipped up, and cold sleet began to pound down on us. Lightning shot down, illuminating the whole stage in blue. Wince loomed over me, the knife in his hand. He lowered it toward my throat. The blade caressed the skin under my chin. Lightning crashed!
I had to separate the various sensations I knew would be waiting for me at the other end. The office was a tricky one. The furniture was moved around frequently. The waiting room was no good. There might be people waiting in it. What if Pookie and Spyder came back? We could land right on top of them!
Wait! I knew the perfect place. I filled myself with all the silver-white power from the lightning crashing overhead. It would take everything in me. If I was wrong, we could be stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing, helpless to defend ourselves against enemies and malign magik. I wished Aahz had his powers back, so he could do this. He’d probably made a jump like this a thousand times in his long life. But this time the onus was on me. We were going home. I was taking us home. I could not be scared. Must not be scared.
Wince raised his arm on high. The blade glinted.
Lightning crashed again! A blue-white bolt shot down and struck the knife, sending it flying. Wince glanced back over his shoulder. He snapped his fingers, and a minion sprang forward, a replacement knife in hand. Wince reached for it. I felt his attention leave me free. This was my one and only opportunity.
I screwed my eyes shut and threw all of the power inside me into the spell.
BAMF!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Fame is such a burden.”
—CALIGULA
It was cold, colder than I had ever anticipated. And wet. My feet were wet to the knees. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs were pinioned by many bodies pressed against me.
“The bathtub?” Aahz asked. “You transported us into the bathroom?”
I opened my eyes. The five of us stood jammed foot-first into the white, claw-footed fixture. Normally, I thought it was more than large enough for long, hot soaks with a book, and deep enough to immerse myself thoroughly if I needed to scrub off an encounter with dragon dung, Pervish cooking, or some other unpleasant substance. I’d just never calculated what it would be like to share the facility with four other people, one of them a half-grown dragon. But I now remembered that I had given Gleep a bath the morning we left for Winslow. I must have forgotten to drain it after I washed him. The cold water in which we stood had a layer of shed dragon scales floating on it.
“Well done, Skeeve,” Haroon said. He jumped out of the tub and shook himself. His long ears flapped around his head. Drops of water scattered from his brown coat. “You’re a pretty darn fine magician, whatever you say.”
“Crazy,” Markie said. She disappeared from Gleep’s side and reappeared two feet away on the mat, emerging dry and scaleless. “But we’re back and we’re intact.”
“Nice storm, by the way,” Aahz said. “Really artistic lightning.”
“Yes, I think I might go into the weather biz,” Markie said. “Just as a sideline.”
“Aahz, Wince was going to torture me!” I said, interrupting them.
“I know,” Aahz replied. He reached for a towel and started rubbing soot and dried mud off his face. I sputtered.
“But you said it was all just for show! You were playing along with him! He was going to kill me!”
Aahz wound the towel into a point and inserted it into his ear.
“Yeah, he was.”
“But you said he wasn’t!”
Aahz removed the towel. He looked at me with an impatient expression I knew all too well.
“Partner, if I hadn’t convinced you that it was all just a show right up to the last minute, would you have been able to concentrate enough to get us out of there?”
“Yes!”
“No! You were panicking. You couldn’t have shown us to the exit if it was marked with red neon lights.”
“Yes, I could!”
Haroon raised large, brown, sympathetic eyes to me.
“My friend, I saw what this big galoot saw. Y’all were pretty darned distracted, from this old fellah’s point of view. I couldn’t think of anything myself ’cept what my first encounter with any of those devices would feel like. You think you felt any different than me?”
“Uh . . .” I considered the thought in all honesty. “Probably not.”
“Then deceiving you was for the common good, right?”
Honesty compelled my answer, though I had to haul it all the way up from my toes.
“I guess so.”
“Then my plan worked.” Aahz slapped me on the back. “Would I ever steer you wrong?”
“Well, once in a while . . .”
“Well, that’s that,” Markie said. “Nice job, Skeeve.” She rubbed her hands together. “Now I’m going to go back to Winslow and blow away that magician that poofed us off to Maire.”
“No, don’t do that!” I protested. I stumbled out of the tub, scattering scales as I went. Aahz stepped out behind me, in evident distaste, and sat on the edge to wipe off his feet.
“What do you care?” Markie said. “She tried to kill all of us. Might have succeeded, too. You’re not going to tell me you like that in a girl?”
“Why not?” Aahz said. “Some of the longest-lasting Pervish marriages started when one of the couple took out a contract on the other.”
“Yes, but he’s not a Pervert, like you!”
“That’s Per-vect, Short-and-Squashy,” Aahz snarled.
Markie went into a crouch and beckoned to him with both hands.
Robert Asprin's Myth-Fits Page 8
