Myth-Gotten Gains

"Then, don't," I said, cutting him off.

The master cutter didn't take the hint. "I think you should have made certain we were equal in all ways."

"You should have said something at the time, then," I said.

"You told me that if I spoke again you would twist me into a knot. And Kelsa you would use as a ball-bearing in a dung-wagon. And Asti you would use as a chamber pot."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, absently. "And I should have, too."

"Is that any way to speak to heroes of history?" Asti asked, putting in her two copper pieces.

"Yes. Where are we going?" I asked Kelsa, for the 45th time.

"What?" she asked, in a dazed voice.

I took the orange case away from Tananda and stuck my face in the little window. "Where...are...we...going...now?"

"Oh, isn't this nice?" she said, the green face spi

I groaned.

It had taken some serious persuasion to get Kelsa's attention away from her fancy new surroundings before she came up with the name of the dimension where we could find Buirnie, the magik Flute' Elb. Then I had to make sure she was directing us toward the part of Elb where we could locate it. I considered this particular treasure a waste of time, from my point of view, since the Flute couldn't help me regain my magik, nor could it repay what was turning into a substantial debt. The sooner we could get him and get on to the next treasure, the better.

I didn't worry whether the notoriously flaky Crystal Ball had given us a wrong steer. From the looks of things, the fourth member of the Hoard didn't bother trying to conceal his presence; in fact, just the opposite.

Close to the center of town, we started seeing posters plastered to the side of buildings advertising a concert. "Buirnie! Playing All Week! Tickets from Three Silver Pieces! The Elb Arena!" At the bottom, superimposed over the image of an impressive building, was a hand-drawn illumination of a golden flute studded with gems and surrounded by a halo of light.

"Guess we found him," I said.

"Do you think he might be in the Arena now?" Tananda asked.

"Oh, yes," Kelsa assured us. "He likes to warm up before playing. Loosens all his valves, he says. Sometimes I just tune in to him to listen. He's really very good..."

"Why is that a surprise?" Asti asked. "Of course he's good! He's one of us!"

"Why are you defending the noisemaker?" Ersatz asked. "You never cared about him before this."

"You never tried to defend him yourself," Asti pointed out. "You always told him to shut up because his playing was making your metal bend."

I tuned out the babble.

Locating the Elb Arena was easy. Over the top of the shops and houses, I could see the cupola that had been pictured on the poster. I led us through the narrow alleyways and through streets crowded with donkey wagons and foot traffic.

The Arena stood in the center of a square filled with museums, galleries and public sculpture, a hulk of a building constructed of greenish stone and decorated in a local style that approximated rococo but with extra flourishes. The entrance was an archway of fancifully twisted and carved stone depicting flowers, hairy nymphs, fish and birds, all gilded and painted as if there had been a special ru

Finding the back-stage door was easier yet. At the center of the rear wall was a smaller version of the grand entrance, nymphs and all, but in miniature.

Trying to get through said back door was a different question.

"Come on," I told the two heavily-armed Trolls lounging against the wall as if they were holding it up, "we're friends of the band. Buirnie will be ticked off if you don't tell him we have come to see him. We came all the way from another dimension to visit him."

"Dey all say dat," the first Troll opined.

"Take off," the second Troll said, not troubling to take a toothpick, the size of a belaying pin, out from between an incisor and a bicuspid.

"Look," I said, leaning toward them confidentially. "We've come a long way to see Buirnie. We're not from this dimension."

I nodded to Tananda, who took the disguise spell off. The Trolls stood upright.

"See? We brought a few special guests with us. If you don't believe me, take the names in to the Flute, and see what he says. If he tells you to toss us out, then do it. What have you got to lose?"

"Don't like to interrupt Mr. Buirnie," the first Troll said, letting his lower lip hang loose.

But I could see that he was eying Tananda. A Trollop like her wouldn't be fooled by the dense act that the males of Trollia put on when they were in other dimensions. Her brother Chumley, a large, purple-furred Troll, concealed his intellectual qualities so he could get work as a bodyguard, under the nom de guerre Big Crunch. I figured these two were also pulling down decent salaries by concealing their IQ points.

"Oh, come on," Tananda said, sidling in between them. She put an arm around each, ru

The two Trolls eyed one another.

"You go," the first Troll said.

"No. Me like it here. You go."

"I senior. You go."

"Now, boys," Tananda said, keeping her personal magik going as her fingers flew along their spines. "We'll all go."

Before we went inside, she restored the disguise spell. Just in time, too, because the theater was bustling. Backstage bosses in purple coveralls were yelling at the crews, who carried pieces of sets and rolled racks of costumes past us. Calypsa followed, her beak agape with astonishment. I brought up the rear, making sure no one followed us down the corridor.

"I don't see how you are earning any part of your reward today, Aahz," Asti said. "You botched the negotiations. Your Trollop closed the deal, and neatly, I might add. Nothing to do with you at all!"

"Shut up," I snarled. I had just been admiring Tanda's technique, and the goblet's remarks drained all the joy out of it like a hole in a wine keg. "We got in, didn't we? I don't care what works as long as something did. If she hadn't persuaded them, I would have found another way. I didn't have to. End of story."

"Ah, well, you have an excuse for everything," Asti said, in a dismissive tone, as we passed through a felt-covered door. "I suppose you have to, with your lack of success."

"What do you mean, my lack of success?" I bellowed.

"Shh!" one of the Trolls hissed, distracted away from Tananda's ministrations. "Buirnie doesn't like nobody's loud noises but his own."

"What's all the racket going on out there?" demanded a shrill voice that filled the short hallway. "I can't hear myself whistle!"

The Trolls held open a set of double doors adorned with huge gold stars and escorted us through them. There was no doubt we were entering an audience chamber. The room was crowded with furniture and people, but I had no trouble picking out Buirnie himself. For one thing, he was the only gold flute in the room, arranged upon an emerald green velvet pil-

low, and for another, a spotlight shone down on him. The glare off his golden carapace was almost blinding. It cast everything else in shadow. I squinted and got a better look at him. Buirnie wasn't exactly a flute. He was in the flute family, but he was one of its smallest members. He was a fife.