Class Dis-Mythed m-16

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Class Dis-Mythed m-16 Page 10

by Robert Asprin


  FZZZAAAP! A tearing noise ripped through the air.

  "What was that?" Melvine asked.

  "Lightning!" I felt around for force lines. Luckily, there was a medium-sized blue-tinged line arching overhead. I latched onto it.

  "Everybody fill up your tanks," I said. I noticed Melvine screwing up his face to protest. "No argument! Do it!"

  I paused for a moment, to give my students time and to make sure my own reservoir of power was topped up as high as it would go. As soon as all of them had given me the nod, we shouldered our way into the town square.

  The cobblestoned common was full of people, most of them flailing around with makeshift weapons: farm implements, brooms, ex-army spears and the like. The most action was coming from the far corner of the square, where a group of people was clearly trying to attack something in their midst, but definitely not wanting to be too close to it. I shouldered closer, followed by my retinue.

  At first all we could see was a two-storey red brick building with terra-cotta gargoyles studding the wall just beneath the eaves. The side of the structure had been punched in, as if by a gigantic hand. While I watched, some of the bricks crumbled away, and a huge Klahdlike face, surrounded by a tawny-colored shaggy mane, appeared. The beast, which stood twice as high as a tall man, clawed at another piece of wall with a gigantic paw, dislodging more masonry that crunched down onto the crowd. The townspeople yelled and shifted away from the falling bricks.

  The creature struggled for a moment then extracted itself from the broken building, pulling the rest of it down as it wrestled free. The shaggy head was followed by an immense, smooth-furred body with muscular haunches. The tail wasn't furry—it looked insectoid. Pale blue, jointed, translucent sections terminated in a stinger longer than my foot. I gulped.

  "What is it?" Bunny gasped.

  "It's a Manticore," I said. "They're native to the dimension Mantico. I've read about them, but never seen one before in the flesh. They're dangerous."

  "No kidding," Melvine said scornfully.

  I admit it was stating the obvious, as the Manticore bared a mouthful of long, white fangs. He snapped at the outstretched arm of a statue and bit it right off. He spat it at the crowd, who milled away from him, still shouting and brandishing their makeshift weapons. A few brave souls forced their way forward and threw rocks at the beast.

  He staggered to his hind feet and roared. I had read that Manticores were nonsentient, but my textbook was wrong. This creature was wearing a uniform. Not much of one, admittedly: a polished gold-and-leather breastplate was tied to his mighty furred chest. Strapped around his mid-section was a wide belt from which hung several pouches and a gleaming dagger. Another dagger was strapped to his right ankle. Perched in the thick mane, in between the rounded ears, was a dark blue, flat-topped cap with a brim. And in his right paw was clenched a spherical container bound with leather straps. When another shower of rocks flew at him out of the crowd, he threw a massive arm around the container to protect it. I raised my eyebrows.

  "Did he steal that?" Bunny whispered to me. "Is that what they're trying to get back?"

  "I think it belongs to him," I said, in a low voice, heartened by the sight. "If you ask me—"

  "Here he is!" Norb grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a huge bearded man standing behind a small army of crossbowmen kneeling to fire. "Master Flink, here's the wizard!"

  "Hold your fire!" Flink ordered. Norb hurried to whisper in the big man's ear. The headman turned toward me. With a few silver lines at the temples, Master Flink had hair and beard as black as his beady little eyes.

  "So, wizard, what do you think?" he demanded.

  "I think," I intoned, "that you have a problem."

  "Do you, now?" he exploded. "Well, you must be a soothsayer as well as a wizard! As if anyone couldn't tell we have a problem, dammit! Well, solve it! We'll pay you what Norb here tells me you want. More! Just get this damned monster out of my town!"

  I inclined my head slightly, my expression grave. "As you wish, Master Flink. I do not believe that this concern is so serious that it merits more than my personal oversight. My apprentices will handle this matter." I folded my arms into my sleeves.

  "Whatever you want," Flink growled. "Just get on with it! It was snoring away up to half an hour ago, but now it's up again, and look what it's done!"

  "I assure you, the monster will be removed with as little additional damage as possible," I told Flink.

  "Your apprentices will WHAT?" Melvine demanded. His shock was mirrored on the other five students' faces. The Pervects' jaws hung open. "You're kidding!"

  I turned to them and lowered my voice. "No, I'm not kidding. You didn't like my exercises in the courtyard. You said they weren't practical enough. Well, here is a practical field exercise." I waved a hand in the direction of the Manticore. "Get a game plan together. Take him out of town. We'll deal with him there."

  "Right," Jinetta said resolutely, assuming the leadership. The Pervects went into a huddle. She pulled her gazing crystal from her field pack and began to gesture over it. "Manticores, Manticores. Here's the entry in the Encyclopedia Pervetica."

  The other girls peered over her shoulder. Bee peered around the square, muttering numbers to himself. "Forty yards by forty-five. Nine direct routes in, not counting air." Tolk just gawked, his long pink tongue lolling in amazement.

  "I see," Pologne said, glancing up. "This creature is an adolescent. You can tell because the whiskers are no longer ivory colored, but not yet fully golden."

  "And one of them is bent," Freezia added, "indicating a defeat by a more powerful opponent, such as a dragon. I recall from one of Professor Simble's lectures that Manticore whiskers are one of the most flexible and tough fibers in all the dimensions."

  "No, not a dragon," Pologne corrected her. "Only a magikal attack could have bent it! Dragons are unlikely to have cast a spell. They prefer to use brute firepower."

  "Of course!" Freezia tittered. "I defer to your superior memory, Polly." She pulled out a notebook and made a note in it with an orange plume. "Physical attack. How long ago, do you think?"

  "I couldn't say for certain," Pologne said thoughtfully.

  "Master Flink, there he goes again!" one of the bowman shouted. The Manticore had pulled himself to his feet and was staggering across the square.

  "Hold your fire!" the headman said. "The wizard's about to do something!"

  "When?" demanded a fat man in a flour-spattered tunic and apron. I deduced at once that he was the town baker. "He's tearing up my granary!"

  The Manticore had pushed aside the canopy that hung over the entrance to the white-plastered building, and appeared to be trying to crawl inside, to the detriment of the door frame.

  "Well, wizard? Hurry! He'll destroy my entire shop!"

  If you've never felt the eyes of a thousand people fixed on you all at once, let me tell you it's uncomfortable. I kept my face, wearing the guise of the venerable and formidable wizard, from showing any emotion, but underneath I was growing as impatient as the townspeople. Still, I waited. I was fairly certain no one was in any direct danger from this monster at the moment, and I thought my students had an important lesson to learn.

  At last, one of them took action. Melvine tugged at my sleeve.

  "Uh, Skeeve, how about we leave?" he suggested, in as suave a voice as he could muster. "This doesn't have to be our fight, does it?"

  "Sure it does!" Tolk said, goggling. "Let's go get him! Let's go get him! Now-wow-wow-wow!"

  "We made a contract, Melvine," Bee added.

  "Strictly speaking, Skeeve made the contract," Melvine said, planting his hands on his chest. "I had no problem with the exercises you had us doing. My aunt exaggerated a lot about me needing to get close with big-time experiences. Look, if you don't mind, I'll just observe from over there. Maybe up that street on the left. Whaddaya say?" The Cupy began to back away.

  "What are you afraid of?" I asked.

  Melvine halted, mouth ope
n in indignation. "I'm not saying I'm afraid! I mean, this THING, with those big claws, and all those teeth—!"

  "Well, if he's not fully mature, he won't have all his rows of teeth," Pologne said, still engrossed in her reading matter.

  "What does that mean?" Bee asked curiously.

  Pologne dragged him closer so he could see into the crystal ball. "See the chart? His emotions mature at a perceptible rate. Depending on his age, he will understand certain abstract notions better than others."

  "You're saying we should appeal to his better sense, eh?" Tolk asked, his tongue lolling. "Good idea!"

  Some of the townsfolk began to remark among themselves about the novelty of a talking dog. I regretted not giving him human semblance before we started out, but that would have given people something else to talk about when he dropped to all fours to run.

  Melvine began to edge toward the rear of the square. I grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back into the midst of the others.

  In the meantime, the headman ordered the archers to let fly. The bolts peppered the Manticore, who brushed them off with a fearsome roar. Blood seeped out of the golden fur. The Manticore staggered blindly in the direction of the bowmen. The people in his way screamed and ran. The Manticore lurched toward the noises, stinging here and there with his tail, and swiping with one big paw, but was too slow to hit any of them. He was hampered by the fact that he continued to clutch the round container tightly to his chest. Growling in disappointment, he dropped to all threes to crawl.

  "Curse it, reload and prepare to fire!" Flink shouted.

  The bowmen thrust the stirrups of their bows into the ground and yanked the strings back to the trigger, keeping one eye on the beast as they shoved fresh quarrels into the groove of their weapons. The Manticore snarled and kicked out at a haycart that unaccountably got in his way. The wagon tumbled end over end and crashed into the side of a building.

  Some brave townsfolk mustered to throw more rocks at the monster. When he turned toward them, they fled to hide behind the archers, who were forming a trembling wedge behind me and my apprentices.

  The Manticore stumbled over the shrubbery that surrounded a memorial garden in the middle of the square. With a huge splash, he fell flat in the pond.

  The townsfolk broke into nervous laughter. The Manticore seemed to take this amiss. He rose up on three limbs, lashing his pale blue tail until his backside faced us. Then, he hoisted the tail high.

  "Everybody down!" Flink yelled.

  My limited knowledge of Manticores made me realize what threat lay in store. I hit the dirt. "Students! Down!"

  The Pervects, distracted from their perusal of the crystal ball, looked at me aghast.

  "In our good clothes?" Jinetta demanded, hands on hips.

  By now the others had noticed the threat and thrown themselves to the ground. I reached out with a massive dollop of magik, just in time.

  The Manticore's backside swiveled toward us, and the huge haunch muscles squeezed.

  FZZZAPP!

  I suddenly understood Norb's description of how the creature 'emitted lightning,' a fact unaccountably left out of the stuffy textbook I had been reading. A blue-white bolt erupted from the beast's nether parts and shot directly toward the young Pervect. I levitated Jinetta straight up into the air. The bolt missed her, blasting into a huge tree on the green. I reached for some more magik from the blue force line I could see overhead, but it was so thin I couldn't get more than a trickle out of it. I was left with less than half what my internal 'tank' could hold.

  "I hope I'm not going to regret that later," I said.

  "Well, thanks a million!" Jinetta said, insulted.

  "That's not what I meant," I began. "Look out!"

  "Aagh!" Melvine shrieked, diving for the cobblestones again.

  The Manticore, once having hoisted his tail, was randomly blasting houses and buildings apart with lightning bolts. He turned once more to look directly at the cluster of people behind me, and a mean smile crossed his face.

  "No!" shouted Flink.

  The Manticore concentrated deeply, and the biggest lightning bolt yet shot out of his backside and hurtled into a white stone building at the end of the square. The face of it exploded, shooting fragments in every direction.

  "The town hall!" Norb yelled.

  "Do something, Master Skeeve!" Flink said in frustration. "Your assistants are no help!"

  "I agree," I said mildly. I turned to the small cluster at my back. "Apprentices!"

  "It looks like maybe it got hurt by those arrows," Tolk pointed out eagerly. "I can fix it. Maybe then it'll like us and stop causing trouble."

  "That's one theory," Jinetta said. "It ought to understand the concept of gratitude."

  "Hey, listen up!" I said to them in a low but urgent voice.

  "I dunno," Bee said. "If, like you say, they're vulnerable between the eyes, I can probably hit it square if one of these fellows will give me his crossbow."

  The Manticore seemed to revel in the dismayed groans of the assembly at the destruction of their town hall. He rose to his hind feet and staggered toward the building, pausing to take a swallow from the container en route. My apprentices didn't seem to see the action.

  I cleared my throat. "Excuse me."

  With the townsfolk in pursuit, the Manticore ambled unsteadily over to the smoking ruin and began to pick the statues and ornaments off its eaves one at a time, plinking them into the fountain.

  "Can we appeal to its intelligence?" Pologne asked passionately.

  Melvine blew a raspberry. "Do YOU speak Manticore?" • "Well, no."

  I lost my patience.

  "EXCUSE ME!" They all turned to stare at me. I glared back. "Before you try to appeal to his intelligence or sense of gratitude, hadn't you better stop him from destroying anything else first?"

  "Huh?" they asked, almost in unison.

  I stood back so they could get a good look at the ongoing destruction. The Manticore heaved a carved stone windowsill into the pond. The water splashed high into the air.

  "Oh!" they exclaimed, as though surprised that he hadn't held still while they identified him as to genus, species and subspecies.

  "Sorry, Skeeve," Tolk said, lowering his shaggy head. "We just kinda got caught up—"

  "No time," I interrupted him. "Hurry up and get him out of town. Then we can handle him without anyone else getting hurt."

  "No problem," Melvine said. "I can grab him with a whirlwind." He saw my concerned face and grinned. "It's okay, Teach. I've been refining it. Really."

  His small face contorted, and he held out his hands. An eddy in the dust began to turn. It picked up bricks and stones in its wake as it started to trace a path toward the Manticore, who had discovered the curved blue roof tiles. He was picking them off one at a time and eating them as if they were cookies.

  The tornado grew very slowly, seeming to sneak up on the monster, skirting behind trees and buildings whenever he turned his head. I admired Melvine's tactics. They might even work, as long as the creature didn't notice. The tip of the wind touched the beast's toe.

  "Huh?" the Manticore said.

  WHOOSH! Before he could move, the tiny windstorm snaked up his body and enveloped him. The bemused face, the last to be absorbed, whipped helplessly around in circles.

  "Yeeeaaaah!" Melvine carolled, dancing around. "I'm the Cupy! I'm the Cupy!"

  "Move it out of here!" I shouted.

  He gave me a sheepish glance. "Oh, yeah."

  The Cupy tilted his head, and the whirlwind started to weave down the street toward the gate. Respectfully, the townsfolk moved aside. I admired Melvine's control. He had been practicing. Markie was right. All the kid needed was a little direction.

  The crowd followed, chanting and brandishing its homemade weapons.

  "Yay! Death to the monster! Death to the monster! Death to the monster!"

  The Manticore wasn't going without a fight. Little jets of lightning zipped out of the maelstrom,
leaving tiny black burns where they hit. The Klahds jumped back, some of them yelping in pain.

  "Melvine," I said as the tornado started to drift off true. "Melvine, watch it. You're getting too close to that—"

  CRASH!

  "—lamp post."

  I looked down. Beads of moisture dotted the Cupy's brow.

  "I can't hold him! I'm losing power!"

  "Why is your spell failing?" Jinetta asked critically. "Didn't you invoke all the correct parameters?"

  "There are no correct parameters, sister," Melvine snarled. "YOU try holding onto it! My magik is fading! This worked fine in my practice sessions with rats!"

  "Rats!" Freezia sneered.

  "Obviously there's something you missed," Jinetta said.

  "Not me! It's not my fault!"

  "There is something!" Pologne exclaimed, lifting her eyes from the crystal ball. "Manticore lightning drains force lines!"

  I groaned. My text really had missed out on all the important facts about Manticores.

  Melvine blew a raspberry. "No wonder! See! I didn't blow it! How come YOU didn't tell me that, with all your research?"

  Jinetta shrieked in outrage. "Me? How much do you think I can read in five minutes?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Stop arguing! Bee, Tolk, help Melvine."

  "With respect, Master Skeeve, I don't know how to make a tornado," Bee said.

  "Me neither," Tolk barked.

  "You don't have to," I said, watching desperately as the wind stuttered. Pretty soon it was going to fade to a summer breeze, and we'd be back to where we started. "Picture a big pair of hands. Each of you make one and put it on one side of the tornado. Steady it, and help Melvine push it out of town. That's all you need to do. Ladies, stand by. If all we have to work on is what power we're packing, then we have to use it where it counts. Remember Sear! And don't let your disguise spells drop!"

  "Yes, Master Skeeve," they chorused.

  Bee and Tolk put up one hand apiece, and concentrated. The spell was rough and unsteady, but they started to move the sputtering whirlwind.

  Two of them managed to get the Manticore partway out of the gate before the whirlwind collapsed. The Manticore dropped to the ground, his fur in knots. He shook himself mightily, then checked to see that his container was all right. It was. The Manticore roared angrily. With a look that presaged revenge, he started to crawl back into the center of town.

 

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