Myth-Fortunes

I wandered into a narrow little street of cracked paving stones lined with open-topped wagons filled to the brim with odd merchandise, almost all of it worthless. I used my i

pinch of Pyxie dust (citrus flavored) and a wink for the gullible. My hand lit upon one item that had a little glamour upon it. I realized I was holding a model of Diksen's pyramid. It was hollow underneath.

"Ah, sir," exclaimed the lizard-faced Ghord behind the wagon. "That is one of my most popular wares."

"What's it for?" I asked.

"It is used to store cheese," he said. "The power of the pyramid prevents it from aging. Here! See the one I use for myself." He took an identical curio from the counter behind him and held it out to me. A chunk of grayish cheese lay on a square dish beneath. I thought it smelled pretty terrible anyhow.

"I'm looking for a present for a friend, but he doesn't eat much cheese." "It will also preserve beer," the merchant said hopefully. "He never lets his beer get old."

The reptilian Ghord whisked it away. "Well, then, sir, this is not for you. Is there anything else I can help with?"

A thought struck me, and I made my way back toward the Avenue of the Magicians. Like the items in the barrows, most of their wares were fakes, too, but I found a couple of rival vendors selling scrolls and books of magik.

"You want what?" asked the first grimoire salesman I asked.

"Cures for magikal ailments," I said. "What to do if you accidentally pick up a bad amulet, or a

"For that, you wish 1,001 Forms of Propitiation," he suggested, handing me a hefty volume with a thick layer of dust on the cover. "The best way to get around the Ancients is to smother them with kindness. Here are all the known rituals and offerings for each of the old Ghords."

I fended off that book, as well as half a dozen others he suggested. None had anything to do with curses. I rephrased my query for the second sales-Ghord, a female with a nearsighted rodent's head. She frowned, her long teeth chewing at her lower lip.

"Sounds like a specialist job to me, young friend. How about a gazetteer to the dimension instead?"

"Say," I said, as if an idea struck me. "Do you ever sell anything to a magician named Diksen?"

The question caused both merchants to roll up like their own goods. I retreated. It wasn't going to be that easy to undo a spell without the caster cooperating.

Perhaps it would be better to concentrate on gift-buying. I made for the Avenue of the Jewelers. On one of her visits, the Pharaoh had worn a headband and a broad necklace made of jewels, either of which would have looked terrific on M.Y.T.H., Inc.'s new president for dress occasions. I wondered if I could find the jeweler who had made them. Since she had started choosing her own clothes, Bu

A weird aroma caught my nose and drew me halfway down a narrow passage. I found myself at a

cookshop where the long-nosed birdman behind the counter was flipping a mass of something in a frying pan.

"Fresh food!" he informed me.

I peered at the mixture. It looked like gravel mixed with green sand. "Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"Better not to ask, young sir," the birdman said. "But it is delicious! Try some! Take a chance! Your stomach will thank you. Only a copper coin." I reached for my belt pouch.

"Don't pay more than half a copper," a soft voice at my shoulder said.

I spun around. Matt stood beside me. Her cats wound around our feet.

"Hi, there," I said, smiling.

Her warm, ta

"Good afternoon. My-Nah is a good cook, but he tends to overcharge tourists. Don't you?" she asked the birdman.

He bowed. "Pretty ladies like you make me forget all about profit," he said.

"Were you going to have lunch here?" I asked, glancing around. "Why don't you join me?"

"Well, I. . . " She hesitated. "Yes, thank you."

"Two bowls," I said. "And wine?"

"Fruit juice, thank you, sir. I must go back to work this afternoon."

I handed the birdman a copper coin and visited the booth next to his for freshly-squeezed juices. By the time I returned, Matt was sitting bolt upright upon one of the shabby wooden stools at one of the communal tables sheltered by a pink fabric canopy in the passage. She had placed a portion of her food on a solid gold plate under her chair for the cats.

I took a couple of gingerly spoonfuls of My-Nah's food while Matt watched.

"How is it?" she asked.

"I've had worse," I said, trying to sound cheerful. It tasted like some of the nondescript bowls of food I'd bought from street vendors in the Bazaar. Nothing special, but not fatal to the diner, either.

She laughed. "It is nourishing. Beyond that I do not ask. It is either that or bring my own lunch. I am too busy when I leave for work in the morning."

An awkward silence fell. I thought back hastily to the dating lessons that Bu

"Do you like working for Diksen?" I stammered out. It was the first thing I could think of.

Matt didn't seem to find the question offensive. "He is not a bad boss. He pays well and he is not unreasonable in his requirements." She took a bite of her own food, then looked up at me shyly. "I am

sorry that he treated you so poorly. He likes his privacy. He was not happy about having his former employee set up business so close to his, in every way!"

"Yeah, we were a little surprised to find out just how close," I said, with a grim thought for Samwise.

"It is not your fault," Matt assured me. "Are you recovered from your misadventure? You are not harmed in any way?" She studied me solicitously. "You have a bruise on your temple!"

"I'm fine," I said. I basked in her sympathy. It felt nice to have a pretty girl paying attention to me. "I just wish we could have solved the problem. Aahz is my best friend. I'm really worried about him. He's got a lot at stake, and your boss's curse is making it impossible for him to do the job he was hired to do."

Matt didn't reply. She hastily picked up her juice and took a sip.

I realized once again that I'd been the one to kill the conversation. My problems were not her concern. I ate some of my food and tried to think of a pleasant subject.

"So, what do you like . . . ?" I began.

"And how do you find Aegis . . . ?" she said at the same time.

We both laughed.

At the next table, a couple of girls were talking over a bowl of My-Nah's who-knew-what? One of them had a long narrow head with oval ears and long, flexible lips. Her golden-furred face rose on a long neck spotted with huge brown oval blotches. The other had a bird face with a short hooked beak. They were talking excitedly in low tones, but perfectly audible to us. I smiled to myself. Ghords seemed to live to gossip—or glyph, which amounted to the same thing.