Little Myth Marker

by Robert Asprin

  "...And maybe you weren't listening earlier," the mobster shot back. "If Skeeve looks bad, we look bad. The Mob backs its people, especially when it comes to public image. Win or lose, we're in for half, okay?"

  "If you say so," Aahz shrugged.

  "...And try to save me a couple seats. I'm gonna want to see my boy in action--firsthand."

  "It'll cost!"

  "Did I ask? Just..."

  I wasn't really listening to the conversation any more. I hadn't realized before just how solidly my friends were behind me.

  A quarter of a million...

  Right then something solidified in my mind that had been hovering there for several days now. Whatever the others thought, I was going to try my best to win this game!

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Shut up and deal!"

  -F.D.R.

  THERE was an aura of expectation over the Bazaar that night as we set out for the Even-Odds. At first I thought I was just seeing things differently because of my anticipation and nervousness. As we walked, however, it became more and more apparent that it was not simply my imagination.

  Not a single vendor or shop shill approached us, not a Deveel hailed us with a proposed bargain. On the contrary, as we proceeded along the aisles, conversation and business ground to a halt as everyone turned to watch us pass. A few called out their wishes of "good luck" or friendly gibes about seeing me after the game, but for the most part they simply stared in silent fascination.

  If I had ever had any doubts as to the existence or extent of the rumor mill and grapevine at the Bazaar, that night put them to rest forever. Everybody and I mean everybody knew who I was, where I was going, and what was waiting for me.

  In some ways it was fun. I've noted earlier that I generally kept a low profile in the immediate neighborhood and have gotten used to walking around unnoticed. My recent shopping trips had gained me a certain notoriety, but it was nothing compared to this. Tonight, I was a full-blown celebrity! Realizing the uncertainty of the game's outcome, I decided to seize the moment and play my part to the hilt.

  To a certain degree it was easy. We already made quite a procession. Guido and Nunzio were decked out in their working clothes of trench-coats and weapons and preceded us, clearing a path through the gawkers. Tananda and Chumley brought up the rear looking positively grim as they eyeballed anyone who seemed to be edging too close. Aahz was walking just ahead of me, carrying our stake money in two large bags. If anyone entertained the thought of intercepting us for the money, all they had to do was look at Aahz's swagger and the gleam in his yellow eyes, and they would suddenly decide there were easier ways to get rich...like wrestling dragons or panning for gold in a swamp.

  We had left Markie back at our place over her loud and indignant protests. I had stood firm, though. This game was going to be rough enough without having her around as a distraction. Massha had volunteered to stay with her, claiming she was far too nervous about the game to enjoy watching it anyway.

  Bunny was decked out in a clinging outfit in brilliant white and hung on my arm like I was the most important thing in her life. More than a few envious eyes darted from her to me and back again.

  No one was kidding anyone, though, as to who the center of attention was. You guessed it. Me! After all, I was the one on my way to lock horns with the legendary Sen-Sen Ante Kid on his own terrain...a card table. Bunny had chosen my clothes for me, and I was resplendent in a dark maroon open-necked shirt with light charcoal gray slacks and vest. I felt and looked like a million...well, make that a quarter of a million. If I was going to have my head handed to me tonight, I was at least going to be able to accept it in style...which was the whole point of this exercise anyway.

  I didn't even try to match Aahz's strut, knowing I would only suffer by comparison. Instead, I contented myself with maintaining a slow, measured, dignified pace as I nodded and waved at the well-wishers. The idea was to exude unhurried confidence. In actuality, it made me feel like I was on the way to the gallows, but I did my best to hide it and keep smiling.

  The crowds got progressively thicker as we neared the Even-Odds, and I realized with some astonishment that this was because of the game. Those without the clout or the money to get space inside were loitering around the area in hopes of being one of the first to hear about the game's outcome. I had known that gambling was big at the Bazaar, but I never thought it was this popular.

  The assemblage melted away before us, clearing a path to the door. I began to recognize faces in the crowd, people I knew. There was Gus waving enthusiastically at me, and over there...

  "Vic!"

  I veered from our straight line and the whole procession ground to a halt.

  "Hi, Skeeve!" the vampire smiled, clapping me on the shoulder. "Good luck tonight!"

  "I'm going to need it!" I confided. "Seriously, though, I've been meaning to stop by and thank you for your warning about the Ax."

  Vic's face fell. "You might have trouble finding me. I'm about to lose my office."

  "Really? Is business that bad?"

  "Worse. There's an awful lot of competition here."

  "Well, tell you what. Why don't you stop by my place tomorrow and we'll talk. Maybe we can work out a small loan or maybe even subcontract some assignments until you're established."

  "Gee. Thanks, Skeeve!"

  A sudden inspiration hit me. "Come by around noon. We'll do lunch!"

  It seemed like a really good idea to me. I wondered why businessmen hadn't thought of talking out ideas over lunch before! For some reason. Vic winced before returning my smile.

  "Lunch it is," he said.

  "Umm...I hate to interrupt, partner, but you do have an appointment you're supposed to be at."

  "Right, Aahz. Vic! Tomorrow!"

  With that, I allowed myself to be ushered into the Even-Odds.

  A ripple of applause broke out as I entered the main bar and gaming room, and I barely caught myself from turning to look behind me. For me or against me, the people were here to watch the game and if nothing else were grateful to me for providing the evening's entertainment.

  Terrific. I was about to risk a quarter of a million in gold so that folks wouldn't have to watch summer reruns.

  The club had been rearranged since the last time I was there. One card table stood alone in the center of the room, while scores of people lined the walls. While the crowd outside might have been larger, the group inside the club made up with clout what they lacked in numbers. While I didn't begin to recognize everyone, the ones I did spot led me to believe that the 'Who's Who' of Deva was assembled to watch the game. Hay-ner, my landlord and leader of the Devan Chamber of Commerce was there along with his usual clutch of cronies. He nodded politely when our eyes met, but I suspected he was really hoping to see me lose.

  Don Bruce was there as promised, and raised his hands over his head, clenched them together, and gave them a brief shake, smiling all the while. I guessed it was some sign of encouragement. At the very least, I hoped I wasn't being hailed with some secret Mob death sign. Of course, that didn't occur to me until after I had waved back.

  "Skeeve. SKEEVE! Have you got a moment?"

  I glanced around to find the Geek standing at my elbow.

  "Sure, Geek," I shrugged. "What can I do for you?" The Deveel seemed extremely nervous, his complexion several shades off its normal hue. "I...you can promise not to hold a grudge. I promise you that tonight was none of my doing. All I did was make the arrangements after the Kid issued the challenge. I didn't give him your name...honest."

  To say the least, I found his attitude surprising.

  "Sure, Geek. I never thought you..."

  "If I had known it would lead to this, I never would have invited you to my game in the first place, much less..."

  I was suddenly very alert.

  "Wait a minute. Geek! What are you talking about? "

  "You're outclassed!" the Deveel explained, glancing around fearfully. "You don't stand a chance
against the Kid. I just want you to understand, if you lose all your money tonight, that I didn't mean to set you up. I don't want you or your crew looking for me with blood in your respective eyes."

  Now, as you know, I knew that I was outclassed. What intrigued me was that the Geek knew it, too.

  "Geek, I think we'd better..."

  A loud burst of applause and cheers interrupted me. By the time I got through craning my neck to see what was going on, the Geek had disappeared into the crowd. With that discussion closed, I turned my attention again to the subject at hand.

  "Who's that?" I said, nodding toward the figure that had just entered the club.

  Aahz slid a comforting arm around my shoulders. "That's him. That's the Sen-Sen Ante Kid."

  "THAT'S the Kid???!!"

  The man in the door was enormous, he was huge...that is to say, he was Massha's size. For some reason, I had been expecting someone closer to my own age. This character, though, was something else.

  He was totally hairless, no beard, no eyebrows, and completely bald. His skin was light blue in color, and that combined with his fat and wrinkles gave the overall impression of a half-deflated blue bowling ball. His eyes were extremely dark, however, and glittered slightly as they fixed on me.

  "That's the Kid?" I repeated.

  Aahz shrugged. "He's had the title for a long time."

  The man-mountain had two bags with him which looked very similar to the ones Aahz had carried for us. He handed them casually to one of the onlookers.

  "Cash me in!" he ordered in a booming voice. "I hear there's a game here tonight."

  For some reason, this brought a loud round of laughter and applause from the audience. I didn't think it was all that funny, but I smiled politely. The Kid's eyes noted my lack of enthusiasm and glittered with increased ferocity.

  "You must be the Great Skeeve."

  His voice was a dangerous purr, but it still reverberated off the walls. He moved toward me with a surprisingly light tread, holding out his hand in welcome.

  The crowd seemed to hold its breath.

  "...And you must be the one they call the Sen-Sen Ante Kid." I responded, abandoning my hand into his grip.

  Again I was surprised...this time by the gentleness of his handshake.

  "I just hope your magic isn't as good as your reputation."

  "That's funny, I was just hoping your luck is as bad as your jokes."

  I didn't mean to be offensive. The words just kind of slipped out before I could stop them.

  The Kid's face froze.

  I wished someone else would say something to change the subject, but the room echoed with deathly quiet.

  Suddenly, my opponent threw his head back and laughed heartily. "I like that!" he declared. "You know, no one else has ever had the nerve to tell me my jokes stink. I'm starting to see where you had the guts to accept my little challenge."

  The room came to life, everybody talking or laughing at the same time. I felt like I had just passed some kind of initiation ritual. A wave of relief broke over me...but it was tinged with something else. I found myself liking the Kid. Young or not, he was definitely not the boogey-man I had been expecting.

  "Thanks, Kid," I said quietly, taking advantage of the cover noise. "I must admit, I appreciate someone else who can laugh at themselves. I have to do it so often myself."

  "Ain't that the truth," he murmured back, glancing around to be sure no one else was listening in. "If you let it, all this stuff can go to your head. Say, would you like a drink or something before we get started?"

  "That confident I'm not," I laughed. "I want to have a clear head when we square off."

  "Suit yourself," he shrugged.

  Before I could say anything else, he turned to the crowd and raised his voice again. "Can you keep it down?" he roared. "We're ready to play cards up here!"

  Like magic, the noise stopped and all eyes turned to the two of us again.

  I found myself wishing I had accepted the drink.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Cast your fate to the winds."

  -L. Bernstein

  THE table was waiting for us. There were only two chairs with chips stacked neatly in front of them.

  I had a sudden moment of panic when I realized I didn't know which chair was facing south, but Aahz came to my rescue. Darting out of the crowd, he pulled out one chair and held it for me to sit in. To the crowd it looked like a polite gesture, but my friends knew I had come dangerously close to changing the rules I had labored so hard to memorize.

  "Cards!" the Kid ordered, holding out one hand as he eased into the chair facing me. A new deck materialized in his hand. He examined it like a glass of fine wine, holding it up to the light to be sure the wrapping was intact and even sniffing the seal to be sure the factory glue was the same.

  Satisfied, he offered the deck to me. I smiled and spread my hands to show I was satisfied. I mean, heck! If he hadn't found anything wrong, it was a cinch that I wouldn't be able to detect any foul play.

  The gesture seemed to impress him though, and he gave me a small bow before opening the deck. Once the cards were out of the box, his pudgy fingers seemed to take on a life of their own. Moving swiftly, they removed the jokers and cast them aside, then began peeling cards off the deck two at a time, one from the top and one from the bottom.

  Watching the process, I began to realize why his handshake had been so gentle. Large as they were, this fingers were graceful, delicate, and sensitive as they went about their task. These were not the hands of a rough laborer, or even a fighter. They existed to do one thing: to handle a deck of cards.

  By now the deck had been rough mixed. The Kid scooped up the pile, squared it, then gave it several quick shuffles. His moves were so precise he didn't even have to re-square the deck when he was done...just set it on the center of the table.

  "Cut for deal? "he asked.

  I repeated my earlier gesture. "Be my guest."

  Even this seemed to impress the Kid...and the crowd. A low murmur rippled around the room as the pluses and minuses of my move were discussed. The truth of the matter was that after watching the Kid handle the deck, I was embarrassed to show my own lack of skill.

  He reached for the deck, and the cards sprang to life again. With a hypnotic rhythm he began cutting the deck and riffing the cards together, all the while staring at me with unblinking eyes. I knew I was being psyched out, but was powerless to fight the effect.

  "For the ante, shall we say one thousand?"

  "Let's say five thousand." I returned.

  The rhythm faltered. The Kid realized he had slipped and moved swiftly to cover it. Setting the cards aside for a moment, he reached for his chips.

  "Five thousand it is," he said, tossing a handful into the center of the table. "And...my trademark."

  A small white breath mint followed the chips into the pot.

  I was counting out my own chips when something occurred to me.

  "How much is that worth?" I said, pointing at the mint.

  That surprised my opponent.

  "What? The mint? One copper a roll. But you don't have to..."

  Before he had finished speaking I added a small coin to my chips, pushed them into the center of the table, grabbed his mint, and popped it into my mouth.

  This time the audience actually gasped before lapsing into silence. For several heartbeats there was no sound in the room except the mint crunching between my teeth. I almost regretted my bold move. The mint was incredibly strong.

  Finally the Kid grinned.

  "I see. You eat my luck, eh? Good. Very good. You'll find, though, that it takes more than that to disturb my game."

  His tone was jovial, but his eyes darkened even more than they had been and his shuffling took on a sharper, more vengeful tone.

  I stole a glance at Aahz, who winked at me broadly.

  "Cut!"

  The deck was in front of me. Moving with forced nonchalance, I cut the deck roughly in half, t
hen leaned back in my chair. While I tried to appear casual, inside I was crossing my fingers and toes and everything else crossable. I had devised my strategy on my own and hadn't discussed it with anyone...not even Aahz. Now we got to see how it worked.

  One card...two cards...three cards came gliding across the table to me, face down. They slid to a stop neatly aligned, another tribute to the Kid's skill, and lay there like land mines.

  I ignored them, waiting for the next card.

  It came, coasting to a stop face up next to its brethren. It was the seven of diamonds and the Kid dealt himself...

  The ten of diamonds. A ten!

  The rules came back to me like a song I didn't want to remember. A ten face up meant my seven was dead...valueless.

  "So much for eating my luck, eh?" the Kid chuckled, taking a quick glance at his hole cards. "My ten will go...five thousand."

  "...And up five."

  The gasp from the crowd was louder this time...possibly because my coaches had joined in. I heard Aahz clear his throat noisily, but wouldn't look in his direction. The Kid was staring at me in undisguised surprise. Apparently he had either expected me to fold or call...possibly because that would have been the sane thing to do.

  "You're awfully proud of that dead card," he said thoughtfully. "All right. I'll call. Pot's right."

  Two more cards floated onto the table face up. I got a ten! The ten of clubs, to be specific. That canceled his ten and made my seven live again.

  The Kid got the unicorn of hearts. Wild card! Now I had ten-seven high against his pair of tens showing.

  Terrific.

  "I won't try to kid you." My opponent smiled. "A pair of tens is worth...twenty thousand."

  "...And up twenty."

  The Kid's smile faded. His eyes flicked quickly to my cards, then he nodded. "Call."