Myth-Fortunes

"I'll make the rounds of magicians and wizards I know who've studied malicious magik," Aahz said. "Tweety said he'd ask around his colleagues, too. I don't have to be on site all the time. There's nothing

much going wrong that can't be explained by the curse, and most of it is minor. I'll check in daily for progress reports from the department heads."

"I'll watch Diksen," I said. "See if he has any contacts that will be friendlier to us than he is."

"Or any nasty habits we can exploit," Pookie said.

"Good," Bu

With the help of a rotating group of volunteer Camels, I staked out Diksen's pavilion from various points out in the desert. The Ghord magician spent most of his time there. Through the translucent walls I could see him pacing around in his sphere-top office. His mother's apartments were curtained off to keep out most of the sunshine. In the evening, I saw her silhouette appear against the wall.

The second afternoon I was watching, a hole opened in the side of the sphere. I was so groggy after the vigil of a day and a night that I almost missed it. I slapped my own cheek to make myself wake up.

Diksen sailed out through the hole on a magik carpet. Even though the skies were empty and cloudless, I didn't dare lose him. Any chance to pick up information I could use to change his mind was worth taking.

"Follow that carpet," I instructed my Camel.

"Oh, that's easy," she said over her shoulder, nevertheless setting off behind the fast-disappearing figure. "Diksen always goes to the Kazbah in the afternoon."

She was right. We skimmed along the sands in time to see him set down on the edge of the crowded market. As Diksen stepped off the carpet, it rolled up into a tight cylinder. Diksen set it against a handy wall along with several others. He strode off into the crowd just as I got off my Camel.

I assumed a disguise as a Ghord with the head of a goat, as my normal appearance would excite too much comment. The merchants shouted about their wares, offered me tea or beer, but didn't try to insist when I politely foisted them off. I worried about losing Diksen in the huge crowds. People stopped abruptly in the middle of the street to gossip to one another, scream, complain or complete a speedy transaction. I felt a hand going for my belt pouch, and left the pickpocket stuck to a tent pole with a rope of magik. I didn't want to have to deal with the authorities. This might be my only chance to see where Diksen went.

We turned into the street past the wagons full of knickknacks.

"Preserve your cultured milk solids! Keep your re

Diksen stalked on, not even sparing a glance for the merchant. I scurried along behind him.

We were heading toward the oldest booths now. As he turned a corner I ducked behind a handy fold of cloth and changed my head for the face of a fish. My feet looked like silver fins now. I collected a few admiring glances for my natty appearance.

He strode onward through the street of food vendors. I dodged past My-Nah's booth, struggling to avoid a pig-headed female and her half-dozen or so offspring all clamoring to be fed first. An itinerant merchant with an open box slung around his neck followed a well-dressed Ghordess with a bird's head.

"You want this, dear lady! It will undo all the crow's-foot wrinkles that nature has wished upon you! It will wipe out all the signs of age that mar your loveliness!"

He sprayed a thin film into the air. Some of it landed on the lady. To my surprise, it did wipe out the lines next to her eyes. I got caught in the spray as well. It smelled like tangy fruit. I coughed and wiped my face.

Diksen's pace slowed. The sellers of antique documents were in the next section. I deduced that we had reached his destination. I kept close to the wall and peered around it cautiously to see what he was doing.

As I had guessed, he was talking closely with the nearer of the scroll sellers, the elderly female. Diksen thumbed through the piled charts on her shabby table as she exaggerated the wonders of each piece. As I watched, she looked both ways up the narrow corridor, and pulled a parcel wrapped in a length of cloth from below a table. Diksen unwrapped it to reveal a book. His eyes gleamed. I peered at it, trying to sound out the glyphs on the cover.

"Hello!" a voice said suddenly. Something brushed my leg. I jumped. "It is Master Skeeve, isn't it? Have you come to eat lunch?"

Startled, I turned around. Matt was looking up at me.

Bu

"Oh, hi," I said, swallowing my shock. I realized that the spray the merchant had doused me with must have dispelled my disguise. I put my hand up against the wall and leaned against it, hoping I looked nonchalant. "I was just . . . yes, I thought I'd come back here for lunch. What a coincidence to run into you! Have you eaten? May I join you?"

"Why not? This is a good place to watch people." Matt led me to a narrow table up against a stone wall. My-Nah dropped off two bowls of food. I took a big spoonful. "The sellers of magikal texts are that way," she added conversationally, tilting her head toward the end of the alley. "But you know that already, don't you?"

I choked, spraying out my mouthful. The sacred cats underneath the table protested at the rain of green and brown granules. I hastily employed magik to remove the detritus. The cats were cleaned, but not amused. Matt went on as if I had not reacted.

"My employer is over there, examining a book on exotic plants. The last time I came this way to pick up a purchase that Diksen had ordered, they were most excited to tell me that a foreign magician had made inquiries of them, and did Diksen have any books or scrolls on placating the Ancients that he might choose to sell?"

"You don't say," I managed to sputter out. I kept my nose in my bowl. Matt ate with ladylike half-spoonfuls.

She smiled at me indulgently. "Oh, yes. They were eager to make a commission. It seemed to be most interesting that you want the very thing that would solve your problem."

"Matt, I . . . "

She twitched her fingertip at me, and the plumes on her head bobbed. "Go on, eat your lunch. People are

watching."

I picked up my spoon, then dropped it again as Diksen appeared at the end of the food booths. Hastily, I reassumed my fish-faced disguise. I expected him to have a bundle under his arm, but he didn't. He glanced toward me with little interest, but only addressed Matt.

"Stop upstairs . . . dictation . . . association meeting. Oh, buy sweets . . . mother."

"Of course, sir," Matt said.

She pulled a feather from the top of her head and made a couple of notes on a parchment roll she took from her belt pouch. Reading upside down, I saw her make a glyph of a feather with an open mouth over it, and a picture of a Ghord with the kind of swollen face I associated with toothache. Diksen gave me a rough nod and started walking again.

"I had better go," she said. "Good luck. I won't tell him I saw you."

She smiled at me and followed her boss. I began to think she must really like me.