Myth-Gotten Gains

"So, there you are, you cake spatula," Asti said. "The last time I saw you, you ruined a perfectly good peace accord I was overseeing on Jahk!"

"An assassin of the Bruhns bid fair to stab the ambassador of the Bhuls in the back!" Ersatz replied. "A good peace

accord signifies that all have agreed to down weapons, not plunge them into the other party's representatives."

"And no one would have, if you hadn't bellowed out, Ware assassins!' Suddenly both armies whipped out knives, knouts, brass knuckles—you name it—and the table went over as the Bruhns shoved it onto the Bhuls' ambassador's toe. In no time the place was a shambles. That's where I got this dent," she added, the ruby eyes rolling up toward a bulge at the rim.

"And added more since," Ersatz said, with less tact than I would have expected out of him. "You look rather the worse for wear."

"No thanks to you! No one even thought of tapping it out. My beautiful roundness, marred, and it's all your fault!"

"Wait a minute," I said, raising my hands. "How long ago was this?"

"Five hundred twenty years, nine months and three days," they said in virtual unison.

"And four days," Kelsa piped up, as Calypsa unwrapped her. The face appeared in the ball. "You forget about universal drift and daylight savings time!"

"Be quiet," Ersatz said. "You were not there."

"I don't have to be, my dear," Kelsa reminded him. "I know all, see all, remember!"

"You told them I could bring back his powers!" Asti burst out.

Kelsa's face changed until she looked like a goblet herself, but with the turban and glasses over a couple of jewels shaped like eyes.

"Why, I never did. I only told them what I saw."

"Aha. And you believed her?" the cup asked me, shocked. "When she hasn't had a clearheaded moment in centuries?"

"Clearheaded?" Kelsa asked, the image thi

"And you didn't interpret it for them?"

"My dear, my job is to predict! If I was known for interpretation, there would be many more usurpers taken to the block and many more crowned heads safe on their pillows at night. Fewer little girls would take chancy trips through the woods unescorted, and the divorce courts would be full since no cheaters could possibly go undetected. My facts are undisputed to the open mind. You're the one who's full of alcohol all the time!"

"Not all the time," Asti said, sulkily. "I make other potions than alcohol. All kinds. Anything that purports to 'know all,' should know that."

"Why, Asti, I didn't say you couldn't. I simply inferred that you didn't" Kelsa said. She looked smug.

"You silicon implant, you have no right to blare people's private business all over the cosmos!"

"Certainly I do. My job is to predict, inform, provide light in the darkness, give a head's up to my possessor as to events which will shape his future and that of the rest of the dimensions. By the way, dear," she said, turning to me and winking an eye, "you might want to pick your feet up. There's a hunting party on the way. Horses, lots of sharp, pointy objects. Ersatz can't possibly take them on all by himself."

"Who says that I ca

"Knock it off!" I said, not wanting to deal with his ego at the moment. "Who is it?"

"Lord Highperin, his chief huntsman, three sergeants-at-arms, fifteen men-at-arms, a pack of hounds..."

A loud bay confirmed at least part of her statement. I glanced at Tananda.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Anywhere but here," I said. I grabbed Asti and started to shove her back into my rucksack.

"Just a moment!" she said, sounding horrified. 'You're not putting me back in that wretched rag again, are you?"

'You bet I am, sister," I said.

"Over my bent stem, you are," Asti retorted.

Out of her bowl, sour-smelling red liquid began to pour, then spray upward in an increasing fountain like a fire hose. I held her away from my face. The liquid was wine, a crummy vintage that I wouldn't have used for insecticide. The spray rose higher. In a moment it would rise higher than the trees. Highperin wouldn't need the dogs to trace us.

"Turn it off!" I shouted. "What do you want?"

"I thought you might see reason. After all, you want your reward, don't you?" The stream cut off between one drop and another. The ruby eyes regarded me with a pleased expression. "I just want a case that befits my status, Mr. Aahz. I am one of the most important members of the Golden Hoard. You can't just wrap me in rags and expect me to be happy about it."

"A case?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"You always possessed delusions of grandeur," Ersatz said. "You will not give in to her petty blackmail, will you?"

"Oh, yes, he will," Asti said, confidently. "Well?"

"Not a chance," I said, with my teeth gritted.

Wine began to flow over my hand again.

"All right, all right!" I shouted. "We'll get you a case."

"A nice one," Asti said. "One with a decent silk lining, tooled leather, and my name written in jewels. Those don't have to be as nice as my own, of course," she added. "Gold clasps would be acceptable, and padded with the best cashmere. Dyed purple, I think. It sets off my patina so well."

I started to growl, "Over my dead body," but Calypsa put her hand on my arm.

"Asti is an ancient treasure, and we do need her help," she said. "The purse will surely reimburse you for any outlay you make. I would feel better if she was made the most comfortable."

The cup beamed. "I like this girl. She knows how to treat an artifact!"

Tananda and I looked at each other.

"Deva," she said.

If you're one of the non-dimension-hopping rubes who have never been to the Bazaar at Deva, picture the biggest shopping arena you know of.

Now, double it.

Now, double it again.

Just keep on doubling it until you run out of numbers.

The Bazaar is well known throughout the dimensions as the go-to place for almost kind of merchandise. If it can be bought, sold, traded, stolen and sold again, it's for sale in one of the tents, booths, open-air rings, tables and even cloths spread on the ground in its dirty, crowded, noisy, hot lanes. You can get a tattoo anywhere on your body, including the inside. You can, as I know to my everlasting regret, buy a live dragon here. (If you have any sense at all, you won't.)

You can find restaurants serving food from countless lands, including one of the only Pervish restaurants I have ever found ex-dimension. Most other races don't want to serve Pervish food, because it tends to be ambulatory, and it has a pretty strong aroma—make that stench. No item or ingredient is so exotic that money won't bring it to your table, unless it's sentient. Even the locals aren't that sick.

The local species, who run most of the establishments, are known as Deveels. In appearance they're similar to the beings of Klahdish nightmares, with dark red skin, little horns on either side of their foreheads, and lower limbs that end in hooves. To deal with a Deveel, you had better be a savvy trader or be willing to lose whatever you're carrying on you. There's no truth in the rumor that you can lose your soul to one of the merchants in the Bazaar, unless you were foolish enough to put it on the table in the first place. In other words, you need to understand what you have agreed to, and make certain that there are no handy loopholes in your verbal contract, or the shopkeeper will wriggle out of fulfilling his end of the bargain if he can find any way at all to do so.

They are the slickest businesspeople in the universe, and they can sense the presence of money. Being cheated by a Deveel is a normal event in the Bazaar, but if you can keep your head, you can find goods of surprising quality among the acres and acres of dreck. Some of the finest craftspeople of all races have shops there. The chances were also pretty good that if any of the other treasures of the Golden Hoard were presently for sale, they might be kicking around here. I thought it was worth taking a look.