Myth-Fortunes

"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-perso

"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 special 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?"

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?"