"No, I'd rather be that burgher," Pologne said. "You be the milkmaid."
"Oh, she's so boring! Look at those wooden clogs!"
"Make up your minds, and let's go," I put in. They ignored me.
"That male in the tights showed some fashion," Jinetta said thoughtfully.
I pushed my way in between them and loomed over them. I pointed at each of my 'apprentices' in turn.
"Fine. Jinetta, you get to be the male in tights. Pologne, you're the burgher. Freezia, you get to be the lady in the blue veil. Chop, chop! Last one into her disguise is a rotten egg!" I clapped my hands.
Donning my own disguise, that of a cadaverous-faced master magician that served me better than my own fresh-faced boyish appearance, I swept toward the exit. I listened behind me as they fell into line. I expected some grumbling, but there was none. They accepted my authority without question. I didn't know whether to feel confident about that trust, or worried. Bunny held onto Gleep's collar as she waved me a cynical farewell from the doorway.
As we strode out onto the narrow, overhung path that served as a road through the thick of the forest, I dropped to the rear of the file and observed my new charges. I expected that there might be some kinks to work out as a cluster of inexperienced Pervects negotiated a new dimension, but I didn't quite anticipate the difficulties they would have in pretending to be something they weren't.
"Jinetta, stop swinging your hips like that," I ordered.
"Like what?" the tallest Pervect inquired, turning in a graceful circle to face me.
I waved a hand. "And don't swoop like that. The guy whose face you are wearing is going to find himself the object of a lot of jokes if we run into anyone who knows him."
Pologne tittered at her classmate's dressing down. I turned on her. "And as for you, never giggle like that again, not until we are inside Massha's house. You're supposed to be an old man. Grumble. Mutter to yourself."
She gawked at me. "What? As if I'm senile, or something?"
I groaned. "Yes, as if you're senile or something. You're an elderly man, with a lot of business interests and a son-in-law who's trying to cut him out of deals. Your wife has a bad temper, and your in-laws live with you. Mutter. Complain under your breath. A lot."
Pologne was appalled. "That bites. Let me be a girl, like Freezia."
"No," I said, folding my arms imperiously. "You're going to learn something out of this: how to make the best use of a disguise spell. I bet you never used your talents for anything more complicated than a Halloween costume. Right?"
"Well—yes." The medium-sized Pervect had the grace to hang her head.
The third Pervect, Freezia, minced along, feeling superior because she didn't have to do any acting to get along in her disguise. I was under no illusion (pun unintended) that I wouldn't have to find fault with her some time over the next six weeks, but it was all right with me if she got by this time. I had to admit she had captured the essence of the pretty girl in the blue gown fairly well. Anyone watching us make our way down the road might be a little surprised that the rich and spoiled Lady Melgarie Trumpmeier walking—make that striding—instead of riding her white pony or being conveyed in one of her father's expensive carriages, but the anomaly would give the locals something to talk about.
A party of five horsemen trotted into view. The path was too narrow for our parties to pass abreast. It would be less trouble to let them by, but with "Lady Melgarie" and me, a famous but mysterious magician, we couldn't give ground. The girls glanced back at me. I gestured to them to keep walking.
"One side!" the lead horseman demanded. A burly, black-bearded man on a gigantic destrier, he towered twice as tall as me, but I held myself upright.
"Who speaks so to Skeeve the Magnificent?" I replied, in sepulchural tones. Two of the horseman behind the leader cringed slightly at my name.
"Who dares to confront Lord Peshtigo of Sulameghorn?" the leader countered, drawing the sword that hung on his right hip. He might have heard of me, but he obviously had a reputation to protect.
I crossed my arms. "You impede our progress, my lord," I replied solemnly.
"You block our horses!"
"Surely mere animals do not take precedence over persons of quality," I admonished him as if he was a small child. "Turn aside, my lord. Give us room."
"We do not turn aside for anyone," Lord Peshtigo growled. "Move, or we run you down."
"I don't think you want to do that," I said, shaking my head. "The consequences may be more than you anticipate. Save yourselves the trouble."
"You are in our way! Move, or die!" Peshtigo bellowed.
"You want us to tear his head off?" Freezia asked, showing her teeth. She had completely forgotten about her disguise.
The horsemen gasped at her, then all of them drew their swords.
"Nay." Wearing my most bored expression, I made a pass with one hand. The sword flew out of Lord Peshtigo's hand. I kept the momentum going, so the gleaming blade twirled point over hilt, ending up with its length buried halfway into the mud at the edge of the road. It stuck there, quivering. His lordship's face turned scarlet then white.
When he spoke, his voice had gone up a few registers. "Lord—lord magician, I fear you have the advantage of me."
"I hope so," I said, allowing my hollowed cheekbones to lift in a wintry smile.
"I had no idea of your pow—I give you good day, gentlefolk," he said quickly, gesturing his fellows to make way for us. Not daring to demur, they all pulled their steeds off onto the muddy verge, where the horses' hooves promptly sank past their fetlocks. I nodded slightly and tilted my head toward the disguised Pervects to follow me. We made our way single-file past the snorting, white-eyed stallions.
As we passed, I threw up a hand. The sword flew up out of the mud and arrowed, point first, for Lord Peshtigo's scabbard. It clashed into place. The other men hastily sheathed their own weapons, just in case I was thinking of doing it for them.
"Good day, gentlemen," I said, in lugubrious tones.
"G-good day, Lord Magician!"
The moment we were past, they whipped up their horses and thudded off down the road.
%
"That was awesome!" Freezia exclaimed.
I waited until I was certain that the horsemen had really gone, then I turned to her, holding an air of nonchalance like a shield. "That seemed awesome to you, did it?"
She turned wondering eyes at me. "Oh, yes! I mean, you just used a little levitation spell, but wow! It really impressed them!"
"Did it ever occur to you," I began dangerously, "that I could have gotten us past them without using any magik?"
"Could you?" she asked. "Why didn't you, then?"
"Because," I said, "while I was beginning the negotiation of who held the higher rank they heard a lady of quality snarl and shriek out, You want us to tear his head off?' That changed the equation from a conversational volley to an open threat. Not only that, they're likely to tell that story in the towns up the road. Chances are now very good that Lady Melgarie's father is going to send an armed party out in search of the magician who kidnapped his daughter and threw a madness spell on her. We could have horsemen on our tails in an hour."
"Well, couldn't you deal with them, too?" Pologne asked. "You took care of these."
"That's because we had the element of surprise," I said, trying to keep my temper. "We won't have that next time."
"We could take off our disguises," Jinetta said. "That'd surprise them. And we can knock most of them out using magik. We play demon-volleyball. I can hit an opponent at over a hundred paces with a fireball."
I sighed. "And that would just increase the size of the mob after us. Look, you want practical instruction? Most Klahds are afraid of magik, power and anyone who doesn't look like them. The force lines around here are fairly weak, except for places like the inn, where several of them cross. You don't want to have to expend any magik on them if you can help it. Store up all the power you can when we get
close to good lines of force, and be stingy with it in between. Use your head instead of your magik. Got that?"
"Yes, Skeeve," they chorused.
As I stumped down the road, I wondered why they didn't already know about being stingy, with magik or anything else. They were Pervects, after all.
Chapter Four
"Would you do a favor for an old friend?"
D. CORLEONE
"Skeeve!"
Massha flew forward to envelop me in a hug. When Massha hugs you, you know it. If I was to describe her as large, you'd know I was understating the situation by a factor of six or seven. Massha wasn't ashamed of being a well-rounded woman; far from it. She wore gaudy clothes and tons of jewelery which could not help but draw the eye to her shape. She also tended to dye her hair a vivid orange, and favored lipstick to match. Since becoming Lady Magician to the Court of Possiltum, Queen Hemlock presiding, and marrying the ex-general of its army, Massha had actually toned down the shock value, but the package was still an impressive one. She was one of my best and most trusted friends, so it didn't take her long to guess that I had something on my mind.
"So, what brings you out of your self-imposed exile, Hot Stuff?" she asked, directing me and my party to cushiony divans that took up most of the spare living space in her and Hugh Badaxe's cosy love nest. The cottage, occupying a corner of the courtyard in the center of the castle environs, actually had fewer square feet than the Court Magician's apartments itself, but with no shared walls to the rest of the castle it had the benefit of privacy. She pointed a finger at a drinks tray on a small table in the corner. The tray lifted itself into the air and settled on the fussily-carved wooden table at the center of the room. The stopper rose from the neck of the handsomely cut crystal bottle, which upended and poured amber liquid into five crystal glasses. Massha only let magik take it so far; she went over to pass the drinks around herself. "Bunny's okay?"
I accepted a glass. "She's fine. She wanted me to ask you when you were getting on the Crystal Ball Network."
Massha waved a hand. "I don't have time for remote entertainment, honey. We've got an invitational tournament coming up next month, and Hemlock wants me to put on a big show. You know," she added, waving a hand. Six miniature golden dragonets flew out of her fingertips carrying banners reading "Massha's Big Show!"
I chuckled.
"But aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" She fluttered her lashes madly at the handsome young Klahd in gartered tights who struggled to keep his tunic from rising up to his waist in the thick velvet cushions.
"Save it, toots," Jinetta snapped, momentarily distracted from her hemline. "You're not my type."
Massha goggled then rose into the air, her face red with embarrassment. "I don't know where you came from, buddy, but around here you call me Lady Magician or ma'am!"
"It's not what you think," I said hastily, leaping up. "Girls, drop the disguises."
"Girls?" Massha echoed.
With a couple of whisks, the illusions faded, leaving three business-suited Pervects glaring at Massha.
"No wonder!" Massha said. Instantly, she went to a pair of cupboard doors in the wall and took out three huge steins and a gallon jug of liquor. "Let me offer you something more to your capacity, ladies. Here." She exchanged the delicate little crystal tumblers for more substantial servings of liquor.
"Thanks," Freezia said, raising the big glass to her lips. "Down the hatch!" She gulped her drink and held out the stein for more.
"So, what are you three doing in Possiltum?" Massha asked as she poured. The three Pervects glanced at one another uneasily.
"Uh, Massha," I said, "Can I see you alone for a moment?"
"Sure!" she said brightly, pulling me into her small kitchen. She beamed at the Pervects. "Excuse us a moment." She waved a gadget I recognized as her 'cone of silence.' My three students could no longer hear us. They shot me worried glances, so I just smiled reassuringly at them. Massha watched the exchange curiously. "So, what's up, Big Guy? Who are they?"
"They're temporary apprentices." I explained how Aahz had sent them to me. "They said they need some specialized training. I, er, brought them here hoping you could help me out. I'm pretty deep in my studies right now. I thought you could give them a couple weeks' instruction in what you're doing here. Practical stuff. They could help you with the festival," I concluded hopefully. "By then I'll have figured out what I can do to help them. I really haven't got a clue how to train them."
Massha shook her head. "Gee, that's too bad. I wish I could help, but I can't. In fact, I was going to visit you in the next couple of days. I have a pupil I wanted you to train."
"Me?" I squeaked.
"Yes!" Massha said, pleased. "And now that you have other students, he'll have the benefit of working with others to help him with his lessons. He's a nice kid. You'll like him. Bee! C'mere, honey!" she shouted out the cottage's back door.
Beside the well in the courtyard, a stick with ears rose to its feet. I realized at once it was a skinny young man, maybe my age or a year or two older. He had a friendly freckled face with big ears and a pop-jawed grin. When he saw me, the grin widened but his eyes dropped shyly.
"Skeeve the Magnificent, this is Corporal Bee, late of Her Majesty's army. He mustered out last week and came to see me," Massha explained. "He wants to study magik." The young man hesitated. I put out my hand and he shook it with a powerful grip that his slender frame belied. "All he needs to know is how to get along in the big bad world. The army's been good for Bee. He's had orienteering skills and survival skills hammered into him, and he has spatial relationships down pat, but he's not great at self-direction and personal organization. He'd get taken advantage of in a sophisticated scuffle."
"So could I," I muttered. But I got the point. I could help with that.
"Glad to meet you, sir," Bee stammered. "I heard a lot about you. Sergeant Swatter, I mean, Guido told me—you don't look the way he described you—"
"Oh." I laughed. "Is this more like it?"
I dropped my disguise spell. The boy let out a whistle of relief.
"Yes, sir! I mean, you were okay the other way, sir! I mean—" His face flushed scarlet, leaving the freckles in sharp relief.
"It's okay, honey," Massha said. "He won't bite you, whatever face he's got on."
"I can't say the same about my apprentices, though," I said thoughtfully.
"You've got other apprentices?" Bee asked enthusiastically.
"No, I mean, yes, wait a minute," I burst out. "Let's start over, from the beginning. How do you know Guido? I assume we're talking about the same Guido?"
"I guess so, sir," Bee replied. "The one I know's a very big man. Talked very tough. Knows everything about how to handle a crossbow, and about everything else, too. Swatter and his cousin Nunzio were great guys. We went through basic training together. He ended up as our sergeant."
"That sounds like our Guido," I said. "So, why do you want to study with me?"
Massha shoved him forward like a mother urging her little boy into the middle of the stage to make his speech on School Prize Day. Bee dithered a moment. I'd been there, done that, and bought the commemorative tunic, so I had a lot of sympathy for a youngster trying to ask for a favor. He seemed impressed to be in the presence of the Great Skeeve, no matter how embarrassed I felt about that, and nervous to have the Court Magician of Possiltum as a sponsor.
"Come on, honey, tell him."
"I was an apprentice magician at home, before I enlisted," Bee said. "Sergeant Guido promised me that, when I got out, he promised me he'd make sure Skeeve the Great would help me get trained up as a proper magician. Then I can go home and set up a practice in my town, sir. I don't need to be a great wizard, just good enough to help the folks out. Swatter was a great guy, sir, and he had a lot of respect for you. When I got out, I went to my CO to see if he knew where to find the sergeant, sir. He sent me to General Badaxe, who put me together with the Lady Magician, here."
&n
bsp; Massha nodded.
Bee went on earnestly. "If I can study with you, sir, it would be an honor and a privilege. I won't be any trouble. I'm good at organization. I ran the whole supply depot under the sergeant, sir."
"I heard about that, corporal," I said. At the time, Guido had been giving me a full debriefing about his stint in the Possiltum army. The name Bee swam up out of a swarm of insect names. The fact that Guido had come to be called Swatter hadn't surprised me then, nor did the respect he had engendered among his troops.
I turned to Massha. "And you're not keeping him as your apprentice because—?"
"Two reasons, Big Shot," she said. "One, he asked for you. Guido made a promise to him. Two, I don't think I'd put him through the paces the way you would."
"But I've got so much studying of my own to do," I almost wailed. "You have a lot more experience of this type than I do."
"I don't agree. The fact that you're studying is the reason you're exactly the right person to help him. You learn the most about a subject when you're teaching it. That's what Hugh always says. But I won't leave you in the lurch. Friends don't do that to friends. I will help you with your trio if you take Bee on as a pupil. I'll come down and give a few lessons in gadget magik. I know I'm good at that. What do you say?"
Bee watched us eagerly. I gave in.
"Deal," I sighed. "All right, Bee, come and meet your new classmates. Massha, I'm going to hold you to your promise."
"I'm good for it, Hot Shot," she said. "You know that."
I stalked back to the old inn, wrapped in my own thoughts, almost cringing at the notion of what Bunny would say when she saw I had four apprentices in tow instead of three—or none at all. From the look in Jinetta's eye, the Pervects weren't too happy about another student joining what they assumed would be an exclusive teaching arrangement, and neither was I. We were all careful to keep our feelings from Corporal Bee, who was nattering along happily, unaware of the simmering thoughts just below the surface.
Bunny didn't meet me at the door, but Gleep did, galloping into the room and mowing me down so he could slurp my face with his long, pink tongue.
Class Dis-Mythed m-16 Page 3
