Myth-Fortunes m-19 Read online

  "I've got the kid with me," Aahz said, aiming a thumb my way. "If we need some muscle, I can ring the bell."

  Bunny asked, "What's your recommendation?"

  "I say go for it. It's an interesting project. Massive construction, not quite unique but with the possibility of becoming historic. I think it'd be good to be connected with it. Samwise's business is slow at the moment, but if it picks up as I think it could, with a little expert guidance, we could be in for a nice profit. In fact," he added, in a casual manner, "I decided to invest in it myself."

  Bunny nodded, a question in her eyes. "You believe in it that much?"

  "I figure it makes it a little more worthwhile to me if I have a piece of the action," Aahz said. That much was true. I always took more interest in businesses in which we had a share. The Even-Odds had become a frequent hangout for a friendly game of cards.1

  "All right," Bunny said. "Since it's the only piece of new business at hand, let's take a vote on it. Everyone in favor of Aahz and Skeeve consulting for Samwise And Company, raise your hand."

  Without hesitation, I threw up my arm. Everybody else voted in the positive, including Bunny, though her hand went up more slowly than the others. Why?

  "Carried," Bunny said, tapping a bright red nail down on Bytina's surface. The little PDA warbled, indicating that it had made the note. "So, what will you do next?"

  "You know, fix up the books, help organize the finances, oversee the spending, and make sure M.Y.T.H., Inc., gets its cut.

  "Find a solution to the accidents as early as you can. It might just be some people trying to get the day off."

  "Not the guys who almost got squashed by a stone. They'd be taking more than the day off. Or the Kobold who took a dive off the high platform," Aahz pointed out.

  Bunny raised her eyebrows. "Industrial sabotage? Who else is interested in the site?"

  The scales on Aahz's forehead went down. "I already made a note to check around," he snarled. "I didn't get into this business yesterday."

  Bunny smiled sweetly. "No one suggested you had. I assumed that was your first step. That would have been mine. But our styles are different. What will you do after that?"

  Aahz grinned, the bad temper dissipating as swiftly as it had come. Bunny was a natural at managing people, even cranky Pervects.

  "Depends on what I find out about Samwise's business rivals. The guy across the way, for example. He and the Imp seem to have split the Zyx Valley between them, but maybe Diksen wants the whole place to himself. I don't think it'll be that big a deal. The biggest problem will be convincing the employees that there's no curse on the place." Aahz reached for his wine cup, or rather, bucket, and lifted it to his lips. The bottom fell out of it.

  Wine gushed out all over his clothes. Aahz jumped up, swearing. Pervect cursing creates its own miasma. All the potted plants in the room suddenly turned brown and wilted. Aahz squeezed a rainshower of red liquid out of his natty tunic. He picked up his cup, now in two pieces, and glared around the room.

  "Who did that?" he demanded.

  "No one," I said. Tananda and I both checked. No outside magik had touched the cup. I couldn't detect anything special about it. Just in case, we examined our own goblets closely. Mine seemed to be intact. I pulled up some magik to dry Aahz off, but I wasn't that good at stain removal. The more I tried, the more

  of the shirt the purple blotch covered. I frowned and readied another spell.

  "Stop that!" he bellowed, backing away from me. "You're making it worse. I'll take it to Zafnir the tailor three doors down." He turned to Bunny. "Are we done wasting time here? I've got a lot to do before I go back to Ghordon in the morning!"

  Bunny glanced at Bytina and let out a squeal. "Ooh, I'd better get going. My mother is going to scream! If there isn't any further business?"

  "No," we chorused.

  "Good! Meeting adjourned." Bunny stood and adjusted her dainty jacket. "Tananda, can you give me a lift home?"

  "Why not?" Tananda said. "There's a shop I want to visit near her house. The manager's really adorable." She gave a wicked smile. The two of them laughed loudly as Tananda waved a hand. They vanished with a loud bamf!

  Aahz didn't say another word. He stalked off through the door of the tent, wringing out his clothes and growling to himself. I thought about catching up, but all I could do was draw attention to the accident and my part in it.

  "Hey, Boss?" Guido asked. I turned to find him and Nunzio at my elbow.

  "Hi, guys," I said. "Want to get some dinner? I hear there's a new Wyvern restaurant down by the grand promenade."

  "Uh, maybe later, Boss."

  I smiled. "You know, you don't have to call me that any more. I appreciate it, but Bunny's the boss now."

  "We have infinite respect for Miss Bunny," Guido said. "However, if you would do us the favor of acceptin' our ongoin' respect, it would be a favor to us."

  I was touched. "Gee, guys, I don't feel as if I really deserve

  it."

  "You do," Nunzio said. "It isn't as if we throw our support around to just anyone. It has and continues to be a pleasure to work with you."

  "I feel the same way, guys. Thank you." They both still looked concerned. "Is there something wrong?" I asked.

  "We was goin' to ask you just the same thing," Guido said. "Is there somethin' the rest of us ought to know?"

  I wrinkled my forehead. "What do you mean? About what?"

  Guido tilted his massive head to look at me sideways. "Okay, Boss, you don't have to go all innocent on us. Far be it from me to poke my nose into somethin' that I shouldn't. We're not tryin' to snoop into personal business. Right, Nunzio?"

  "Just as you say, cousin," Nunzio agreed. I blinked.

  "I think I missed something, Guido," I said, trying to force my brain to make sense of what he had just said. "Let's start over. Ask me what you want to know. I've never held back anything from you fellows. You know that."

  "Dat's why we trust you," Guido agreed. "Okay, I will be more directly blunt than I originally was. For what reason did Aahz just buy himself a tomb?"

  "Well, he really liked the site," I said. "You can't believe how amazing the view was from the top of that pyramid, and the workmanship that the Ghords put into each one is absolutely unbelievable. I admit, I almost got swept up in the hype, too; but I wouldn't get any real use out of one for a long time. ..." My voice trailed off. I felt as if I had just been hit by an oncoming Gargoyle. "I have no idea at all. Aahz seems fine. He never said a word to me about feeling . . . under the weather," I said weakly. "He'd tell me if he was sick, wouldn't he?"

  "Maybe you're the last one," Guido said, "seein' as how you are the closest person to him that we know of, nephews and cousins notwithstandin'. I might trust Pookie, but not that Rupert, and Pookie don't exactly invite confidences from us, not even Aahz."

  "That's true." I sat heavily on the footstool of one of the armchairs in the tent's vast atrium. Gleep understood my distress and came to insinuate his head underneath my palm. I stroked him. "I don't know. He didn't say anything. I mean, I haven't seen him for months. Anything could have happened in that time. When I first got back to the Bazaar not long ago, he had been home seeing his mother."

  "Or so he said," Guido pointed out. "A visit to a medical professional might be somethin' he wanted to keep to himself."

  My brain felt as if it was spinning. It was a lot to take in. Aahz had always been more than healthy, or so he seemed. Maybe I wouldn't know what to look for. Pervects had little in common physically with Klahds, and I was no doctor. I would have to ask around and see if he had been consulting a doctor. Chances were that he wouldn't use a physician anywhere in the notoriously porous Bazaar, where everything was for sale, even information about conversations and treatments that should remain private between a doctor and patient.

  But if Aahz didn't confide in me, considering that I had been out of sight, if not out of reach, there was one person he might have. Then and there I made up m
y mind to do something that I had meant to do for a very long time. Now I had two reasons instead of one. I turned to the cousins.

  "You've given me a lot to think about. In the meanwhile, I've got a favor to ask."

  "Anythin', Boss," Guido said. "You don't even haveta ask."

  "It's just a little piece of information. Nunzio, you know more about the inns and restaurants in the Bazaar. Let me get your opinion. ..."

  I left Gleep in the office with very specific instructions and ran out to take care of two errands.

  When I returned, my dragon was on his back in the middle of the floor, eyes slitted, crooning, as Tananda ran her fingertips up and down his belly.

  "Hi, tiger," Tananda said. "I jumped back here after I dropped Bunny in Klah. Gleep kept circling around me every time I headed for the door. He didn't want me to leave. I've got to check in with a client in the Fleeced Customer Inn."

  "Sorry," I said. "That was my doing. I wanted just a minute to speak with you without any of the others

  around. Do you mind?"

  "Not at all," the Trollop said, smiling up at me. Gleep let out a moan redolent with sulfur fumes that made us both cough. "What's on your mind?"

  "I, uh . . . " Now that the moment was upon me, I could hardly force myself to talk. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Anything," she said. She leaned forward. The action shifted her generous decollete forward against the low-cut green deerskin top she was wearing, causing a change in the garment's geometry that made my blood pressure shoot through the roof. "What can I do for you?"

  "Well..." I swallowed nervously and ran a finger around the inside of my collar. Before I could corral them and let them out of the paddock one at a time, my words rushed out of my mouth all at once. "I was wondering if you would go out to dinner with me. Tomorrow. Or the day after. Whenever. I mean, if you would like to."

  Tananda looked taken aback, as I was afraid she might be. Then she realized she might have hurt my feelings and brought her face under control.

  "You'd like me to go out with you?"

  "I really would," I said. I pulled myself together and remembered the speech I had memorized. "I mean, if you would do me the honor of having dinner with me, I'd consider it a big favor."

  She tilted her head as if trying to figure out if I was joking. I gave her my most sincere, open expression. She smiled at me. "It would be a pleasure. Tomorrow evening is fine."

  "That's great!" I said. "Okay. I've heard of this great restaurant about six miles from here on the edge of the Home Entertainment zone. Say about seven o'clock or so? I'll make a reservation."

  "Great," Tananda said. "Formal? Informal? What's the dress code?"

  I was the wrong person to ask about clothes, no matter how long Bunny had been teaching me the ins and outs of fashion. "Uh, kind of nice, I guess. Not wedding-reception nice, but not just drop in off the street nice. That's what it looked like when I checked the place out."

  "Seven o'clock, then," she said. "I'd better get back to this. The client's expecting it by close of business. It's an unexpected invitation, tiger, but it'll be nice. Thanks." She clamped me in a solid kiss, then undulated out the door.

  I recovered enough to say thanks as the tent flap dropped.

  Gleep popped up and laved my face with his tongue. I nearly gagged at the smell of his slime, though I appreciated the gesture.

  "Good . . . idea," he said.

  Did I mention that my dragon can talk? When I told Guido that I don't hold back anything from my colleagues, that wasn't completely true. Gleep's ability to speak was one thing that he and I kept between us. I hadn't even known at first how long it took baby dragons to become verbal, and considering how often he was underfoot, it might become awkward if I let it be known now. Someday, though, we'd let everyone know.

  But I'd done it! I'd finally worked up the nerve. Inordinately pleased, I gave Gleep a vigorous scratch between the ears and went out to confirm a reservation for the next evening.

  Chapter 8

  "The gods won't really mind."

  —Prometheus

  "Hand me volume three of lies and deception, willya, kid?" Aahz said, holding out a hand.

  I ran my finger down the pile of ledgers sticking out of the mouth of the gigantic Crocofile and found the one he wanted. I passed it to him. He flipped it open and looked from the papyrus sheet he was reading to the book and back again.

  He shook his head. "I don't think I'd ever want to go into a fifty-fifty partnership with this guy. I'd end up owning his underwear."

  "Why?" I asked. The Crocofile yawned. I patted its nose. Samwise kept his books protected by the ultimate security system, a toothy beast the size of a house. When its jaws closed, nothing could get at what was inside. "Has he cooked the books that much?"

  "No," Aahz said, with disgust evident. He sat back on the stone seat that served as an office chair in this dimension. "In fact, they are not as crooked as I thought they would be. He must be too dumb to cheat. There's the usual amount of larceny and bribes, but that's just the cost of doing business. He's using a magikal accounting system that automatically reconciles input and outgo. As far as I can tell, he didn't work in any fancy wrinkles to hide money. Well, figuring out the cost overruns just got that much easier. Want some beer?" He held up a sloshing stone pitcher. The gray-skinned secretary spent a lot of time running back and forth between the reception desk and our office three doors down the hall to refill it. I think she liked waiting on Aahz, and he certainly looked as if he appreciated her.

  "No, thanks." I held up a mug of ice-cold fruit juice. The beer was as good as Samwise had promised, but I watched my alcohol intake. I'd made too many mistakes when I thought I was still sober, and it had cost me.

  Aahz had turned up in the company tent later the previous evening. He'd had time to mellow out once the wine had been bespelled from his tunic. By tacit agreement, we hadn't mentioned anything. A stain here or there was not a significant event between two people who had saved each other's lives several times. He was more irate about the destruction of his favorite wine cup. The next morning, before we departed for Ghordon, we went looking for the silversmith who had made it. Practical jokes and delayed-reaction spells were big business in the Bazaar (considering the tremendous success of Genuine Fake Doggie Doodle with Genuine Odor That Really Sticks to Your Hands) and it wasn't beyond reasonable thought that someone had decided Aahz deserved the dimension's biggest dribble glass. The silversmith pleaded innocence and offered to repair the cup for a fee that amounted to half of its value. A loud screaming match, uh, bargaining session later, Aahz had strutted out, with me in his wake, leaving the silversmith to undertake the repair for a much more reasonable price.

  As promised, Samwise had provided us with an office and beer. We were on our own for everything else, but that was pretty much what we expected.

  A loud rumbling shook me out of my studies about midmorning. Aahz patted his belly. "Sorry about that. We cut out of Deva before I could eat a decent breakfast. I smell food out there. You want to see what you can turn up?"

  "Sure," I said, putting aside the ledgers. Bookkeeping was my second least favorite duty when I was management.

  After talking with Guido and Nunzio after the staff meeting, I was worried about Aahz's health. If he was suffering from some kind of fatal condition, I intended to do what I could to help him live a healthier life. Who knew? If the condition didn't progress too fast, a magikal cure could be found. In the meanwhile, I'd find something healthy for him to eat.

  As I left the office, I was nearly hit in the nose by a small chunk of stone whizzing by. It zipped into the hands of one of the clerks working at a desk behind me. I glanced back and the Ghord with the sheep's face looked, well, sheepishly at me. I had become used to Ghords constantly sending glyphs back and forth to one another all day long. With the easy availability of power in all the force lines, it was no trouble for Ghords to drop notes to one another, chiseled on a small piece of stone o
r scribed on a scrap of papyrus. Scarabs carried a few of them, but they mostly went by magik. I picked up from my brief examination of the glossary the fact that the open mouth meant O My Ghordess. It began many of the short glyphs from young workers to one another. But I also noticed some glyphs incised on the big blocks of stone in place of the pictographs that they were supposed to be carving. Chief scribes, wearing sour expressions, had to check the work of some of their employees to make certain that they were chiseling what the customer wanted, not some remark about a hot date or a cute guy. The glyphs also talked about the frequent accidents. I would speak to some of the stonemasons later on to get full details.

  I headed out in search of a snack. Naturally, wherever people work, a support system grows up around them, offering services that busy workers don't have time to do for themselves. Near the rear of the pyramid's base, a long walk from the office at the front of the site, snake-faced laundresses knelt over wash tubs. Dozens of dripping kilts hung on lines. They wouldn't take long to dry in the parched air. Barbers wielding long shears gave haircuts to Ghords sitting on backless stools with their headcloths wrapped around their necks like towels. A slick-looking individual in expensive and brassy robes oversaw a trio of gambling tables where bored stonemasons might try their luck at dice or cards. Nearby, curvaceous lovelies beckoned to passersby, inviting them to try for a different kind of luck. Prosperous women in aprons poured beer at a semi-permanent bar counter mounted on two carved pillars. I recognized the seal on their barrels as the same one on the excellent beer Aahz was being supplied. I gave them a friendly wave and followed my nose to the food sellers.

  The variety of edibles in the makeshift cookshops told me that Ghordon was used to dimensional travelers. Next to staples like mixed beans and sausages, Imperial specialties were plentiful and, judging by the crowds, popular. I walked past vendors shouting the virtues of their fried bread, oiled meat with greasy sauces, thick stews, and pastries dripping with honey, all of which smelled delicious. Ghords crowded around, clamoring for service. Shopkeepers bantered with their customers as they hurried to fill clay bowls with orders. I stopped at the booth of a forlorn female with a short-beaked face who had plain, baked crispbreads for sale. Knowing Aahz had a substantial appetite, I bought a basketful for a few coppers. I left her shouting blessings after me.