Myth-Fortunes

"Gee, that's awful," I said. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts!" Aahz bellowed. "Do something!"

"No problem," I said.

Having done it once with the pyramid next door, hefting one building block posed no problem. I pressed against the unseen desert bedrock, far beneath the sands, and the block rose. Aahz staggered backwards and sat down on the paving stones. I moved the slab and set it down out of the way.

"That's the most common injury," Dr. Cobra sighed, switching his narrow head from side to side. "Give me room!" he ordered, pushing back onlookers.

"Fu

Gurn was gone, probably back to Suzal to report on us.

Chapter 17

"Now we're all in this together."

A crushed foot took a few days longer to heal than a cut palm, although in the case of a Pervect, not much longer. Aahz took advantage of Miss Tauret's cooing over him and kept the cast on his leg well past the time when he showed any pain at putting his foot on the floor. Even though having him out of commission meant I had to do all the rounds on site myself, I let him get away with sitting around. I felt responsible for him getting hurt. After the conference Guido, Nunzio, and I had had, I should have been watching more closely. If that stone had fallen on him, it could have killed him.

"You know, Miss Tauret's supposed to be greeting visitors, not just waiting on you," I said, as the receptionist slipped out of the room with an empty pitcher.

"You gotta enjoy the perks," Aahz stretched lazily. "Besides, I'm not going to haul my butt up and down those ramps with plaster on my leg. I don't have any clients coming by until tomorrow. It's not like I don't have any work. The paperwork never stops." He threw a document to me. "Here. Sign this."

I glanced at it. The papyrus was entirely written in glyphs, except for Aahz's signature down at the bottom. A second line had been drawn to the right of it with a symbol below. The figure of a male with the bee revolving around its head meant 'ski

"Progress report," Aahz grunted. I shrugged and reached for a reed pen. As soon as I signed it, Aahz took it back and stuck it in the Crocofile.

"Where's the food?" he demanded. "Hey, honey, come on with the snacks! I have to get my strength back!"

"Honey?" A face showed around the doorjamb. Instead of the gray visage we expected, it was covered in purple fur. "Sorry, what? I say, Aahz, are you up to having visitors?"

"Chumley!" I exclaimed, coming to offer him a hand. He engulfed me in one of his usual Trollish embraces.

"Good to see you, Skeeve, but mum please on the C-word, eh? The walls, as they say, have ears. I go by Wat-Is-Et here."

"Wat-Is-Et?" I asked.

"My name," Chumley said.

"I get it, but what is your name?" I asked.

"It is what it is."

"I thought you said 'what is it?' " "No, Wat-Is-Et."

"I'm still trying to figure out what it is." "It's very simple." "Then what is it?"

"Now you have it," Chumley said, with a smile. "What?"

"Hold it, hold it!" Aahz said, holding up his hands to stop us. "We haven't got time for 'Who's On First.' I'll explain it to the kid later." I closed my open mouth. "Take a load off! How are you doing? It's been a while. We've been expecting you to drop by."

"Oh, yes." Chumley looked a little uncomfortable. "It hasn't been too easy to get away, what with the way things have been going in the royal court. Suspicion and intrigue have been rife, what?"

Aahz eyed him. "And you're right in the middle of it?"

"Trying not to be, old thing, trying not to be! But it is difficult. The walls have ears, as they say, and even a simple gesture is enough for some of our neighbors to read. They are adept at putting volumes of meaning into a single expression."

"I've noticed," I said. "Some of those glyphs are as long as a book."

"When your means of writing is a chisel and a block, you compress as much as you can into every stroke," Chumley said. "It is a marvelous time saver, but also fraught with difficulty if you get even a syllable wrong, as I have found to my dismay."

"I won't ask what you're doing," I said. "I mean, it's none of my business. But I have to say I'm curious how you got involved in the court here."

"For once," Chumley said, "my erudition won out over my more obvious attributes."

"Huh?"

"How'd you get to be a linen-wearing bureaucrat?" Aahz asked.

Chumley sat back on the guest bench, which creaked under his weight, and threw off the curtaining headdress. "Ah, well, it started as an accident, I am afraid. The previous Pharaoh, Geezer the Ninth, had a wise man who actually went to university with me. While studying in the university library some years ago, we rekindled our friendship. Naten-Idjut was a fine fellow. We had mutual interests in the study of geology and mineral rights, but we came upon one another in the ancient lore section. Scads of old scrolls and ostraca, marvelous sources of both rumor and information.

"Naten-Idjut fell ill before he could return home. He needed to convey to his employer some important information. Leaving him in hospital, I went to Aegis as his locum and found myself as a visiting fireman, so to speak. To my surprise, I also spotted a problem that my old friend had not observed, having to do

with food supply and sanitation, and was called a wise man for my pains by none less than the Pharaoh Geezer himself. Ever since then, he and then his daughter, when he finally succumbed to old age, have called upon me when they needed outside perspective, what?"

"What?" I asked. "What perspective?"

"Whatever they require," Chumley said. "I must say, it is nice to have a job in which one can use one's own ma

"I think the kid wants to know, what perspective are they looking for this time?" Aahz asked.

"Ah," Chumley said. "Forgive me. Well, you saw part of it some days ago when you met her esteemed majesty.

The Pharaoh Suzal feels that she has incurred the wrath of the ancient ones. For months now, she has suffered severe attacks of food poisoning. Even though tasters sample all her food with no signs of distress, when she eats of almost any dish, she has a bad reaction."

"Could it be some form of magikal attack?" I asked.

"I am studying all the signs," Chumley said. "More importantly, I am ru

"I'd be honored," I said. "What do they think of her here in Aegis?"

Chumley's mouth curved in an avuncular smile. "She is a fine monarch, in the mode if not the mold of her father. She is much beloved. Her servants adore her, as do her people. I would be surprised as well as troubled if this were indeed some attempt to remove her from the throne. My spies have not indicated any usurpers threatening. Nor have any of the neighboring nations shown an interest in taking over Aegis. As you have seen, there's little arable land, and little useful mineral wealth at hand, apart from first-rate building stone. So far, I am at a loss."