I

Chapter One:

"Is it just me, or does it seem to you /

get more than my share of troubles?"

JOB

"... AND so, TO recap, the situation is this ..."

I ticked the points off on my fingers, giving my

audience a visual image to reinforce my words.

"First, Queen Hemlock wants me to be her

consort. Second, she's given me a month to think

it over before I reach my decision. Third ..."

I tapped the appropriate finger for emphasis.

"If I decide not to marry her, she says she'll

abdicate, naming me her successor and sticking

me with the whole mess. Got that?"

Despite my concern over my predicament, I

was nonetheless proud of my ability to address

the problem head on, summarizing and analyzing

it as I sought a solution. There was a time in the

not too distant past when I simply would have

lapsed into blind panic. If nothing else, my adven-

tures over the years had done wonders for my

2     Robert Asprin

confidence in my abilities to handle nearly any

crisis.

"Gleep!" my audience responded.

Okay ... so I wasn't all that confident.

While I knew I could muddle through most

crises, the one situation I dreaded the most was

making a fool of myself in front of my friends and

colleagues. While they had always been unswerv-

ing in their loyalty and willingness to bail me out

of whatever mess I blundered into, that didn't

mean I was particularly eager to tax our friend-

ships yet another time, even if it was just for

advice. At the very least, I figured that when I did

approach them, I should be as level-headed and

mature about it as possible, rather than babbling

hysterically about my woes. Consequently, I de-

cided to rehearse my appeal in front of the one

member of our crew I felt truly comfortable

with . . . my pet dragon.

I've always maintained that Gleep is quite

bright, despite the one-word vocabulary that gave

him his name. According to my partner and

mentor, Aahz, my pet's limited vocal range was

merely a sign of his immaturity, and it would

expand as he edged toward adulthood. Of course,

realizing dragons live several centuries, the odds

of my ever having a two-way conversation with

Gleep were slim. At times like this, however, I

actually appreciated having someone to talk to

who could only listen . . . without helpful asides

regarding my inability to walk across the street

without landing myself and the crew in some

kind of trouble.

"The trouble is," I continued, "what with all

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE 3

the problems and disasters I've had to cope with

over the years, not to mention trying to be presi-

dent of M.Y.T.H. Inc., I haven't had much time for

a love life, like, none at all ... and I sure haven't

given any thought to getting married] I mean, I

haven't ever really reached a decision on whether

or not I want to get married at all, much less

when or to who."

Gleep cocked his head to one side, to all appear-

ances hanging on my every word.

"Of course, I do know I'm not wild about the

alternative. I had a chance to play king once . . .

and that was twice too often, thank you. It was

bad enough when I was just being a stand-in for

Roderick, but the idea of trying to run the king-

dom by myself, as myself, and forever, not just for

a few days, well, that's flat out terrifying. The

question is, is it more or less terrifying than the

idea of being married to Queen Hemlock?"

My pet responded to my dilemma by vigorously

chewing at an itch on his foot.

"Thanks a lot, Gleep old boy," I said, smiling

wryly despite my ill humor. While I obviously

hadn't really expected any glowing words of ad-

vice from my dragon, I had at least thought my

problems were serious enough to hold his atten-

tion. "I might as well be talking to Aahz. At least

he looks at me while he's chewing me out."

Still smiling, I picked up the goblet of wine I

had brought with me for moral support and started

to take a sip.

"Oh, Aahz isn't so bad."

For a startled moment, I thought Gleep had

answered me. Then I realized the voice had come

4     Robert Asprin

from behind me, not from my pet. A quick glance

over my shoulder confirmed my worst fears. My

partner, green scales, pointed teeth and all, was

leaning against the wall not ten feet from where I

stood, and had apparently been listening to my

whole oration.

"Hi, Aahz," I said, covering my embarrassment

with a forced smile. "I didn't hear you come in.

Sorry about that last comment, but I've been a

little ..."

"Don't worry about it, Skeeve," he interrupted

with a wave of dismissal. "If that's the worst

you've had to say about me over the years, I figure

we've been doing pretty well. I do lean on you

kinda hard from time to time. I guess that's gotten

to be my way of dealing with stress."

Aahz seemed calm enough ... in fact, he

seemed to be suspiciously calm. While I wasn't

wild about his shouting at me, at least it was

consistent. This new display of reasonability was

making me uneasy . . . rather like suddenly no-

ticing the sun just rose in the west.

"So . . . what are you doing here, partner?" I

said, trying to sound casual.

"I was looking for you. It occurred to me that

you might need a sympathetic ear while you

figured out what to do next."

Again, a small warning gong went off in the

back of my mind. Of all the phrases that might

occur to me to describe Aahz's interaction with

me in the past, "a sympathetic ear" wasn't one of

them.

"How did you know where I was?"

I was dodging the issue, but genuinely curious

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE 5

as to how Aahz found me. I had taken great pains

to slip down to the Royal Stables unnoticed.

"It wasn't hard," Aahz said, flashing a grin as he

jerked his thumb at the door. "You've got quite a

crowd hanging around outside."

"I do?"

"Sure. Pookie may be a bit mouthy for my

taste, but she knows her stuff as a bodyguard. I

think she's been tailing you from the time you

left your room."

Pookie was the new bodyguard I had acquired

during my recent trip to Perv . . . before I knew

she was Aahz's cousin.

"That's funny," I scowled. "I never saw her."

"Hey, I said she was good," my partner winked.

"Just because she respects your privacy and stays

out of sight doesn't mean she's going to let you

wander around unescorted. Anyway, I guess Guido

spotted her and decided to tag along . . . he's

been following her around like a puppy ever since

they met . . . and, of course, that meant Nunzio

had to come, too, and . . . Well, the end result is

you've got all three of your bodyguards posted

outside the door to see to it that you aren't

disturbed."

Terrific. I start out looking for a little privacy

and end up leading a parade.

"So, what do you think, Aahz?" I asked.

I knew I was going to get his opinion sooner or

later, and figured I might as well ask outright and

get it over with.

"About what?"

"About my problem," I clarified.

"What problem?"

6     Robert Asprin

"Sorry. I thought you had been listening when I

explained it to Gleep. I'm talking about the whole

situation with Queen Hemlock."

"I know," my partner said. "And I repeat, what

problem?"

"What problem!" I was starting to lose it a

little, which is not an unusual result of talking to

Aahz. "Don't you think . . ."

"Hold on a second, partner," Aahz said, holding

up his hand. "Do you remember the situation

when we first met?"

"Sure."

"Let me refresh you memory, anyway. Your old

mentor, Garkin, had just been killed, and there

was every chance you were next on the hit list.

Right?"

"Right. But . . ."

"Now that was a problem," He'continued as if

I hadn't spoken. "Just like it was a problem when

you had to stop Big Julie's army with a handful of

misfits . . . realizing that, if you were success-

ful, Grimble was threatening to have you killed or

worse when you returned to the palace."

"I remember."

"And when you decided to try to clear me of

that murder rap over on Limbo, a dimension

which just happens to be filled with vampires and

werewolves, I'd say that was a problem, too."

"I don't see what . . ."

"Now, in direct contrast, let's examine the

current situation. As I understand it, you're in

danger of getting married to the Queen, which, I

believe, includes having free run of the kingdom's

treasury. The other option is that you decide not

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE 7

to marry her, whereupon she abdicates to you . . .

leaving you again with a free hand on the treasury,

only without the Queen." He showed me his im-

pressive array of teeth. "I repeat, what problem?"

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that my

partner had a tendency to appraise the pluses and

minuses of any situation by the simple technique

of reducing everything to monetary terms and

scrutinizing the bottom line.

"The problem is," I said tersely, "that in order

to get that access to the treasury, I have to get

married or become king. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm

wild about either option."

"Compared to what you've been through in

the past to scrape together a few coins, it's not

bad," Aahz shrugged. "Face it, Skeeve. Making a

bundle usually involves something unpleasant.

Nobody . . . and I mean nobody ... is going to

fork over hard cash for your having a good time."

Of course, those "few coins" we had scraped

together over the past years added up to enough to

make even a Pervish banker sit up and take

notice, but I knew the futility of trying to con-

vince Aahz that there was ever such a thing as

enough money.

"Maybe I could just write about having dubious

adventures instead of actually doing anything," I

muttered. "That always sounded to me like a

pretty cushy job to cash in on the good life."

"You think so? Well, let me educate you to the

harsh realities of the universe, partner. It's one

thing to practice a skill or a hobby when you feel

like it, but whether it's writing, singing, or play-

8

Robert Asprin

ing baseball, when you've got to do something

whether you're up for it or not, it's work\"

I could see this conversation was going no-

where. Aahz simply wasn't going to see my point

of view, so I decided to play dirty. I switched to his

point of view.

"Maybe I'd be more enthusiastic," I said, care-

fully, "if the kingdom's finances weren't at rock

bottom. Doing something unpleasant to acquire a

stack of debts doesn't strike me as all that great a

deal."

Okay. It was hitting below the belt. But that

just happens to be where Pervects such as Aahz

are the most sensitive . . . which is to say where

they keep their wallets.

"You've got a point there," rny partner said

thoughtfully, wavering for the first time in the

conversation. "Still, you managed to finagle a

whole month before you have to make a decision.

I figure in that time we shouM be able to get a

pretty good fix on what the real financial situa-

tion around here is ... end if it can be turned

around."

"There's just one problerr with i:hat," I pointed

out. "I know even less about money than I know

about magik."

"Just off hand, I'd say you were doing pretty

well in both departments."

I caught the tdge in my partner's voice, and

realized that he was on the brink of taking my

comment personally . . which is not surprising

as he was the one who taught me nearly every-

thing I know about magik and money.

"Oh, I'm okay when it conies to personal fi-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE 9

nances and contract negotiations . . . more than

okay, in fact . . . and I have you to thank for

that." I said hastily. "What we're looking at now,

though, is high finance ... as in trying to man-

age the funds for a whole kingdom! I don't think

that was covered in my lessons, or if it was, it

went over my head."

"Okay. That's a valid concern," Aahz conceded.

"Still, it's probably the same thing you've been

doing for M.Y.T.H. Inc., but on a larger scale."

"That's fine, except Bunny's been doing most of

the heavy financial work for M.Y.T.H. Inc.," I

grimaced. "I only wish she were here now."

"She is," Aahz exclaimed, clicking his fingers.

"That's the other reason I was looking for you."

"Really? Where is she?"

"Waiting in your room. I wasn't sure what kind

of sleeping arrangements you wanted set up."

One of the changes from my previous stay at

the palace was that instead of sharing a room with

Aahz, I had a room of my own. It's a tribute to

how worried I was, however, that the implica-

tions of what he said went right over my head.

"Same as always," I said. "See if we can find a

room for her that's at least in the same wing of the

palace as ours, though."

"If you say so," Aahz shrugged. "Anyway, we'd

better get going. She seemed real anxious to see

you."

I only listened to this last with half an ear, as

something else had momentarily caught my at-

tention.

I had turned away from Aahz to give Gleep one

last pat before we left, and for the barest fraction

10

Robert Asprin

of a second saw something I had never noticed

before. He was listening to us!

Now, as I noted earlier, I've always maintained

that Gleep was bright, but as I turned, I had a

fleeting impression of intelligence in his expres-

sion. To clarify, there is a difference between

"bright" and "intelligent." "Bright," as I'd always

applied it to my pet, means that he is alert and

quick to learn. "Intelligent," on the other hand,

goes beyond "monkey see, monkey do" tricks, all

the way to "independent thought."

Gleep's expression as I turned was one of

thoughtful concentration, if not calculation. Then

he saw me looking at him and the look disap-

peared, to be replaced with his more familiar

expression of eager friendliness.

For some reason, this gave me a turn. Perhaps

it was because I found myself remembering re-

ports from the team about their efforts to disrupt

the kingdom in my absence. Specifically, I was

recalling the claim that Gleep had nearly killed

Tananda . . . something I had dismissed at the

time as being an accident that was being blown

out of proportion in their effort to impress me

with the difficulties of their assignment. Now,

however, as I stared at my pet, I began to wonder

if I should have paid closer attention to what they

were saying. Then again, maybe it had just been

the light playing tricks on me. Gleep certainly

looked innocent enough now.

"Com'on, partner," Aahz repeated testily. "You

can play with your dragon some other time. I still

think we should try to sell that stupid beast off

before he eats his way through our bankroll. He

SWEET MYTH-TCRY OF LIFE

11

really doesn't add anything to our operation . . .

except food bills."

Because I was already watching, I caught it this

time. For the briefest moment Gleep's eyes nar-

rowed as he glanced at Aahz, and an almost

unnoticeable trickle of smoke escaped from one

nostril. Then he went back to looking dopey and

innocent.

"Gleep's a friend of mine now, Aahz," I said

carefully, not taking my eyes off my pet. "fust

like you and the rest of the crew are. I wouldn't

want to lose any of you."

My dragon seemed to take no notice of my

words, craning his neck to look around the stable.

Now, however, it seemed to me his innocence

was exaggerated . . . that he was deliberately

avoiding looking me in the eye.

"If you say so," Aahz shrugged, heading for the

door. "In the meantime, let's go see Bunny before

she explodes."

I hesitated a moment longer, then followed him

out of the stables.

Chapter Two:

"It's good to see you, too."

H. LJVINGSTON, M.D.

As AAHZ HAD predicted, my three bodyguards were

waiting for me outside the stables. They seemed

to be arguing about something, but broke off their

discussion and started looking vigilant as soon as

I appeared.

Now, you may think it would be kind of fun to

have your own bodyguards. If so, you've never

actually had one.

What it really means is that you give up any

notion that your life is your own. Privacy be-

comes a vague memory you have to work at

recalling, as "sharing" becomes the norm . . .

starting with the food on your plate and ending

with going to the John. ("Geez, Boss! You know

how many guys got whacked because someone

was hiding in the can? Just pretend we ain't

here.") Then, too, there's the constant, disquiet-

13

14

Robert Asprin

ing reminder that, however swell a fellow you

may think you are, there are people out there

waiting for a chance to bring your career to a

premature conclusion. I had to keep telling my-

self that this latter point didn't apply to me, that

Don Bruce had insisted on assigning me Guido

and Nunzio more as status symbols than any-

thing else. I had hired Pookie on my own, though,

after getting jumped during my recent trip to

Perv, so I couldn't entirely discount the fact that

bodyguards were occasionally necessary and not

just an inconvenient decoration.

"Got a minute, Skeeve?" Pookie said, stepping

forward.

"Well, I was on my way to say hello to

Bunny ..."

"Fine. We can talk as we walk."

She fell in step beside me, and Aahz graciously

fell back to walk with my other two bodyguards.

"What it is," Pookie said, without preamble,

"is I'm thinking of cashing in and heading back to

Perv."

"Really? Why."

She gave a small shrug.

"I can't see as how I'm really needed," she said.

"When I suggested I tag along, we thought you

were coming back to a small war. The way I see it

now, it seems like the crew you've already got can

handle things."

As she spoke, I snuck a glance back at Guido.

He was trudging along, his posture notably more

hangdog than usual. It was clear both that he was

infatuated with Pookie, and that he wasn't wild

about the idea of her moving on.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

15

"Umm . . . Actually, I'd prefer it if you stuck

around for a while, Pookie," I said. "At least, until

I've made up my mind what to do about this

situation with Queen Hemlock. She's been known

to be a bit nasty when things don't go her way."

"Suit yourself," Pookie said, giving another

shrug. "I just wanted to give you an easy out if

you were looking to trim the budget."

I gave a smile at that.

"Just because we're going to be working on the

kingdom's finances doesn't mean there's anything

wrong with our treasury. You should know your

cousin well enough to have faith in his money

managing."

"I know Aahz, all right," she "said, shooting a

dark look at that individual, "enough to know

that before he'd part with money unnecessarily,

he'd cut off his arm ... or, more likely, some-

one else's."

"He's mellowed a bit over the last few years," I

smiled, "but I know what you mean. If it makes

you feel any better, though, I hired you, so I figure

you're reporting directly to me and not to him."

Pookie cocked an eyebrow at me.

"If that wasn't the case," she said, "I wouldn't

have come along in the first place."

I could have let it go, but my curiosity was

aroused.

"What's the problem between you two, any-

way? More specifically, what's your problem with

Aahz? He has nothing but the highest praise for

you and your work."

Pookie's features hardened, and she broke eye

contact to stare straight ahead.

16

Robert Asprin

"That's between him and me," she said stonily.

Her attitude puzzled me, but I knew better than

to pursue the subject further.

"Oh. Well . . . anyway, I'd like you to stick

around if that's okay."

"No problem from my end," she said. "Just one

thing ... to ease my mind. Could we adjust my

pay scale? The prices you've been paying are my

premium rates for short term work. For long term

employment, I can give you a discount."

"How much?" I said quickly. As I noted before,

Aahz had taught me most of what I know about

money, and I had picked up some of his reflexes

along the way.

"Why don't we knock it down to the same rate

as you're paying those two/' she said, jerking a

thumb at Guido and Nunzio. "If nothing else, it

might avoid some hard feelings between us pro-

fessionally."

"Umm . . . fine."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that Guido and

Nunzio were actually earning more than her

premium rates. Realizing she was not only from

the same dimension, but the same family as

Aahz, I wasn't sure how she'd take the news.

With everything else on my mind, I decided to

sort it out at a later date . . . like, payday.

"Well, that takes care of me," Pookie said.

"Any general orders for us?"

"Yes. Tell Nunzio I'd like to have a word with

him."

One thing about living in a palace is that it

takes a long time to walk from anywhere to

anywhere, giving us lots of time to have confer-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

17

ences on the way to other conferences. Hey, I

didn't say that it was a nice thing about living in

a palace . . . just a thing.

"So what's the word, Boss?" Nunzio said, fall-

ing in step at my side.

"Is she stayin' or goin'?"

"What? Oh. Staying, I guess."

"Whew! That's a relief!" he said, rolling his

eyes briefly. "I'll tell you, I don't think Guido

would be livable if she left right now . . . know

what I mean?"

"Uh huh," I said, glancing back at his cousin . . .

who, judging by the grin on his face, had already

heard the news. "He seems quite taken with her."

"You don't know the half of it," Nunzio gri-

maced. "So, what did you want to talk to me

about?"

"Well, you know how you've been saying that

Gleep has been acting strange lately?"

"Yeah. So?" he said, his squeaky voice taking

on a cautious note.

"I want you to try to spend more time with

him. Talk to him . . . maybe take him out for

some exercise."

"Me, Boss?"

"Sure. You get along with him better than

anyone . . . except, maybe, me . . . and I'm go-

ing to be tied up with the kingdom's finances for

a while. If there's anything wrong with Gleep, I

want to find out about it before anyone else gets

hurt."

"If you say so."

I couldn't help but notice an extreme lack of

enthusiasm in his voice.

18

Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

19

"Yes. I say so/' I repeated firmly. "It's impor-

tant to me, Nunzio, and I can't think of anyone I'd

trust more to check things out for me."

"Okay, Boss," he said, thawing a little. "I'll get

right on it."

I wanted to give him a bit more encouragement,

but just then we arrived at the door to my quarters.

"I'll wait out here, Boss, and make sure nobody

else comes in for a while," Nunzio said with a

faint smile as he stepped back.

This surprised me a little, as the crew usually

followed me into my room without missing a step

or a syllable of conversation. Then I noticed that

the others of our group had also halted short of

the door and were watching me with a smile.

I couldn't figure what was going on. I mean, so

Bunny was waiting inside. So what? It was just

Bunny.

Nevertheless I took my cue, nodding at them

vaguely as I opened the door.

"SKEEVE!!"

I barely turned around from shutting the door

when Bunny charged across the room, slamming

into me with a huge hug that took my breath

away . . . literally.

"I was so worried about you!" she said, her

voice muffled by my chest.

"Ahh . . . ack!"

That last comment was mine. Actually, it wasn't

so much a comment as a noise I made while

trying to force some air into my lungs. This

proved easier said than done . . . and it wasn't

all that easy to say!

"Why didn't you come by the office on your

way back from Perv?" Bunny demanded, squeez-

ing even harder and shaking me slightly. "I was

going out of my mind, thinking about you all

alone in that terrible dimension ..."

By ignoring what she was saying and focusing

my entire consciousness on moving, I managed to

slowly force one hand . . . then an arm . . .

inside her embrace. Summoning my fast fading

strength, I levered my arm sideways, breaking her

grip and allowing myself a desperately needed

rush of air.

Okay. So it wasn't particularly affectionate, or

even polite. It's just that I've picked up some

annoying, selfish habits over the years . . . like

breathing.

"What's the matter, Skeeve?" Bunny said in a

concerned voice, peering at me closely. "Are you

all right?"

"UUUUH hah ... UUUUH hah . . . ," I ex-

plained, realizing for the first time how sweet

plain air could taste.

"I knew it!" she snarled. "Tananda kept saying

you were all right . . . every time I asked she

kept saying the same thing . . . that you were all

right. The next time I see that little . . ."

"I'm . . . fine . . . Really, Bunny. I'm ... fine."

Still trying to get my lungs working on their

own, I reached out a tentative finger and prodded

her biceps.

"That was . . . quite a'Hello,'"I said. "I never

realized . . . you were so ... strong."

"Oh, that," she shrugged. "I've been working

20

Robert Asprin

out a little while you were gone . . . like every

night. Not much else to do evenings. It's an easier

way to stay in shape than dieting."

"Working out?"

My breathing was almost back to normal, but

my head still felt a little woozy.

"Sure. You know, pumping iron?"

I had never realized that simple ironing could

build up a woman's arms that much. I made a

mental note to start sending our laundry out.

"I'm sorry I didn't think to check in with you,"

I said, returning to the original subject. "It's just

that I assumed you were okay there at the office,

and was in a hurry to see if the crew was okay."

"Oh, I know. It's just that . . ."

Suddenly   she   was   hugging   me   again . . .

gentler, this time.

"Don't be mad at me, Skeeve," she said softly

from the depths of my chest. "I just get so worried

about you sometimes."

I was surprised to realize she was trembling. I

mean, it just wasn't that cold here in my room.

Especially not huddled together the way we were,

"I'm not mad at you, Bunny," I said. "And there

was nothing to worry about . . . really. Every-

thing went fine on Perv."

"I heard that you nearly got killed in a fight,"

she countered, tightening her grip slightly. "And

wasn't there some kind of trouble with the cops?"

That annoyed me a little. The only way she

could have found out about the trouble I ran into

on Perv would be from Tananda . . . except I

hadn't told Tananda anything about it before she

headed back to the Bazaar to relieve Bunny. That

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

21

meant that either Aahz or Pookie was telling

people about my escapades . . . and, to say the

least, I wasn't wild about that.

"Where did you hear that?" I said casually.

"It's all over the Bazaar," Bunny explained,

burrowing further into my chest. "Tananda said

you were fine, but I had to see for myself after

everything I heard."

Com'on, Bunny," I said soothingly, mentally

apologizing to Aahz and Pookie. "You know how

everything gets exaggerated at the Bazaar. You can

see I'm fine."

She started to say something, then turned her

head as sounds of an argument erupted through

the closed door.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Guido and Nunzio

said they were going to keep everybody out for a

while. Maybe someone ..."

The door burst open, and Queen Hemlock stood

framed in the entryway. Behind her my bodyguards

stood, and as they caught my eye gave exaggerated

shrugs. Apparently royalty was harder to stop than

your average assassin ... a thought that did little

to cheer me realizing some of the rumors surround-

ing the current matriarch of Possiltum.

"There you are, Skeevie," the Queen exclaimed

striding into my room. "I was looking all over for

you when I saw those thugs of yours loitering

about outside and . . . Who's this?"

"Your Majesty, this is Bunny. Bunny, this is

Queen Hemlock."

"Your Majesty," Bunny said, sinking into a deep

bow.

22

Robert Asprin

It occurred to me that as worldly as she was in

some ways, Bunny had never met a member of

royalty before, and seemed to be quite awed by

the experience.

Queen Hemlock, on the other hand, was not at

all overawed by meeting another commoner.

"Why Skeeve! She's lovely!" she said, cupping

Bunny's chin in her hand and raising her head to

view her face. "I was starting to wonder a bit

about you, what with that monstrous apprentice

of yours, not to mention that lizard thing you

brought back with you from wherever, but this . . .

It's nice to know you can find a yummy morsel

when you set your mind to it."

"Bunny's my administrative assistant/' I said, a

bit stiffly.

"Why of course!" the Queen smiled, giving me

a broad wink. "Just like my young men are

bodyguards ... on the kingdom budget, any-

way."

"Please, Your Majesty, don't misunderstand,"

Bunny said. "Skeeve and I are really just ..."

"There there, my dear," Hemlock interrupted,

taking Bunny by the hands and drawing her to her

feet. "There's no need to worry about me being

jealous. I wouldn't dream of interfering in Skeeve's

personal life before or after we're married, any

more than I'd expect him to interfere in mine. As

long as he does the heir thing to keep the rabble

happy, it doesn't really matter to me what he does

with the rest of his time."

I really didn't like the way this conversation

was going, and hastened to change the subject.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

23

"You said you were looking for me, Your Maj-

esty?"

"Oh yes," the Queen said, releasing her hold on

Bunny's hands. "I wanted to tell you that Grimble

was waiting to see you at your earliest conve-

nience. I told him that you'd be giving him a hand

straightening out the kingdom's finances, and

he's ready to give you whatever information or

assistance you need.

Somehow, that didn't sound like the J. R. Grim-

ble I knew, but I let it slide for the moment.

"Very well. We'll be along presently."

"Of course." The Queen smiled, winking at me

again. "Well, I'll just be running along then."

As she reached the door, she paused to sweep

Bunny once more with a lingering gaze. "Charm-

ing," she said. "You really are to be congratulated,

Skeeve."

There was an uncomfortable silence after the

Queen left. Finally, I cleared my throat.

"I'm sorry about that, Bunny. I guess she just

assumed ..."

"That's the woman you're supposed to marry?"

Bunny said as if I hadn't spoken.

"Well, it's what she wants, but I'm still think-

ing it over."

"And if somebody kills her, you'd feel you had

to take over running the kingdom?"

"Uh . . . well, yes."

There was something in Bunny's voice I didn't

like. I also found myself remembering that while

she had never met royalty before, her uncle was

none other than Don Bruce, the Mob's Fairy

24

Robert Asprin

Godfather, and that she was used to an entirely

different brand of power politics.

"I see/' Bunny said thoughtfully, then she broke

into her usual smile. "Well, I guess we'd better go

and see Grimble and find out what kind of a mess

we're really in."

"Okay. Sure," I said, glad that the crisis had

passed ... if only for the moment.

"Just one question, Skeeve."

"Yes, Bunny?"

"How do you feel about 'the heir thing' as her

majesty so graciously put it?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess I don't

mind."

"You don't?"

"Not really. I just don't understand what having

a haircut has to do with being a royal consort."

Chapter Three:

"A good juggler can always find work."

L. PACCIOLJ*

J. R. GRIMBLE, CHANCELLOR of the Exchequer for the

kingdom of Possiltum, had changed little since I

first met him. A little more paunch around the

waist, perhaps, though his slender body could

stand the extra weight and then some, and his

hairline had definitely progressed from the "re-

ceding" to the "receded" category, but aside from

that the years had left him virtually unmarked.

Upon reflection, I decided it was his eyes that were

so distinctive as to render his other features incon-

sequential. They were small and dark, and glittered

with the fervent light of a greedy rodent ... or

of someone who spent far too many hours pouring

over the tiny scribbled figures which noted the

movement of other peoples' money.

['I'll give you this one . . . Luca Paccioli — inventor of double-entry

accounting, "Father of Bookkeeping"—R.L.A.|

25

26

Robert Asprin

"Lord Skeeve!" he exclaimed, seizing my hand

and pumping it enthusiastically. "So good to have

you back. And Aahz! Couldn't stay away, eh?" He

gave a playful wink at my partner. "Just kidding.

Glad to see you again, too."

"Have you been drinking, Grimble?" Aahz said

bluntly.

In all honestly, I had been wondering the same

thing myself, but had been at a loss as to how to

ask the question diplomatically. Fortunately, my

partner's characteristic tactlessness came to my

rescue.

"Drinking?" the Chancellor blinked. "Why, no.

Why do you ask?"

"You seem a lot more cheerful than normal, is

all. As a matter of fact, I don't recall your ever

being happy to see either of us before."

"Now now, let's let bygones be bygones, shall

we? Though I'll admit we've had our differences

in the past, we're going to be working together

now . . . and frankly, gentlemen, I can't think of

anyone I'd rather have in my corner during our

current financial crisis. I never felt at liberty to

admit it before, but I've always secretly admired

your skills when it came to manipulating mon-

ies."

"Uh . . . thanks, Grimble," I said, still unsure

of exactly how to take his new attitude.

"And who do we have here?"

He turned his attention to Bunny, devouring

her with his eyes like a toad edging up on a moth.

I suddenly recalled that Aahz and I had first

become embroiled in the workings of Possiltum

after Grimble had picked Tananda up in a singles

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LIFE

27

bar. It also occurred to me that I didn't like

Grimble much.

"This is Bunny," I said. "She's my administra-

tive assistant."

"Of course," Grimble shot me a sidelong, rep-

tilian glance, then went back to leering at Bunny.

"You always did have exquisite taste in ladies,

Skeeve."

Still annoyed at Bunny's treatment by Queen

Hemlock, I wasn't about to let the Chancellor get

away with this.

"Grimble," I said, letting my voice take on a bit

of an edge. "Watch my lips. I said she's my

administrative assistant. Got it?"

"Yes. I ... Quite."

The Chancellor seemed to pull in on himself a

bit as he licked his lips nervously, but he rallied

back gamely.

"Very well. Let me show you our expanded

operation."

While Grimble might have been essentially

unchanged, physically or morally, his facilities

were another matter entirely. He had formerly

worked alone in a tiny, cramped cubicle filled

past capacity with stacks and piles of paper. The

paper was still there, but that's about all that

remained the same. Instead of the cubicle, it

seemed he was now working out of a spacious,

though still windowless, room ... or, at least, a

room that would have been spacious if he had it

to himself.

Instead, however, there were over a dozen indi-

viduals crammed into the space, apparently pre-

occupied with their work, which seemed to entail

28

Robert Asprin

nothing more than generating additional stacks of

paper, all covered by columns and rows of num-

bers. They didn't look up as we came in, and

Grimble made no effort to halt their work or

make introductions, but I noticed that they all

had the same fevered glint to their eyes that I had

originally assumed to be unique to Grimble.

"It seems that the current financial crisis hasn't

caused many cutbacks in your operation," Aahz

said dryly.

"Of course not/' Grimble replied easily. "That's

only to be expected."

"How's that?" I said.

"Well, Lord Skeeve," the Chancellor smiled,

"you'll find that accountants are pretty much like

vultures ... we thrive when things are worse

for other people. You see, when a kingdom or

company is doing well, no one wants to be both-

ered with budgets, much less cost savings. As

long as there's money in the coffers, they're

happy. On the other hand, when the operation is

on the skids, such as is currently the case with

Possiltum, then everyone wants answers ... or

miracles . . . and it's up to us irritating bean-

counters to provide them. More analysis means

more man-hours, which in turn means a larger

staff and expanded facilities."

"Charming/' Aahz growled, but Grimble ig-

nored him.

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together like a

blow-fly, "what would you like to address first?

Perhaps we could discuss our overall approach

and strategy over lunch?"

"Umm . . ."I said intelligently.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

29

The horrible truth was that, now that I was

actually confronted by Grimble and his paper

mountains, I didn't have the foggiest notion of

how to proceed.

"Actually, Grimble," Bunny said stepping for-

ward, "before we think about lunch, I'd like to see

your Operating Plan for the current year, the

calendarized version, as well as the P and L's and

Financial Statements for the last few months . . .

oh yes, and your Cash Flow Analysis, both the

projections and the actuals, if you don't mind."

The Chancellor blanched slightly and swal-

lowed hard.

"Certainly. I ... of course," he said, giving

Bunny a look which was notably more respectful

than his earlier attentions. "I'll get those for you

right now."

He scuttled off to confer with a couple of his

underlings, all the while glancing nervously back

at our little group.

I caught Aahz's eye and raised and eyebrow,

which he responded to with a grimace and a

shrug. It was nice to know my partner was as

much in the dark as I was regarding Bunny's

requests.

"Here we are," Grimble said, returning with a

fistful of paper which he passed to Bunny. "I'll

have the Cash Flow for you in a moment, but you

can get started with these."

Bunny grunted something non-committal, and

began leafing through the sheets, pausing to scru-

tinize each page intently. More for show than

anything, I eased over to where I could look over

her shoulder. In no time flat, my keen eye could

30

Robert Aspirin

tell without a doubt that the pages were filled

with rows and columns of numbers. Terrific.

"Um ... I do have some spread sheets to

support some of those figures if you'd like to see

them/' Grimble supplied uneasily.

Bunny paused in her examinations to favor him

with a dark glance.

"Maybe later," she said. "I mean, you do know

the origin of spreadsheets, don't you?"

"Umm . . ." the Chancellor hedged.

"They were named after the skins used by

trappers," Bunny continued with a faint smile.

"You know, the things they dragged after them to

hide their tracks?"

For a moment Grimble stared at her, bewil-

dered, then he gave a sudden bark of laughter,

slapping her playfully on the shoulder.

"That's good!" he exclaimed. "I'll have to re-

member that one."

I glanced at Aahz.

"Accountant humor, I guess," he said with a

grimace. "Incomprehensible to mere mortals. You

know, like 'We'll make it up on volume' jokes?"

"Now that's not funny," Grimble corrected

with mock severity. "We've had that line dumped

on us all too often ... in complete sincerity.

Right Bunny?"

I couldn't help but notice that he was now

treating Bunny with the deference of a colleague.

Apparently her joke, however nonsensical it had

been to me, had convinced the Chancellor that

she was more than my arm ornament.

"Too true," my assistant said. "But seriously,

Grimble, getting back to the problem at hand,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

31

we're going to need complete, non-camouflaged

figures if we're going to get the kingdom's fi-

nances back on course. I know the tradition is to

pretty things up with charts and studies of his-

toric trends, but since we'll be working with

insiders only, just this once let's try it with hard,

cold data."

It sounded like a reasonable request to me, but

the Chancellor seemed to think it was a radical

proposal . . . and not a particularly wise one, at

that.

"I don't know, Bunny," he said, shooting a look

at Aahz and me one normally reserves for spies

and traitors. "I mean, you know how it is. Even

though we usually get cast as the villains of

bureaucracy, we don't have any real power to

implement change. All we do is make recommen-

dations to those who can change things. If we

don't sugarcoat our recommendations, or slant

them so they're in line with what the movers and

shakers wanted to hear all along, or clutter them

up until the Gods themselves can't understand

what we're really saying, then there's a risk that

we end up being what gets changed."

"Nobody really wants to hear the truth, eh?"

Aahz said, sympathetically. "I suppose that's typi-

cal. I think you'll find it's different this time

around. Grimble. If nothing else, Skeeve here has

full power to implement whatever changes he

thinks are necessary to bring things in line."

"That's right," I said, glad to finally be able to

contribute to the proceedings. "One of the things

I think we should do as soon as possible is cut

32

Robert Asprin

back on the size of the army . . . say, maybe, by

one-half?"

Knowing the Chancellor's long-time feud with

military spending, I thought he'd leap at this

suggestion, but to my surprise, he shook his head.

"Can't do it," he said. "It would cause a depres-

sion."

"I don't care if they're happy or not!" Aahz

snarled. "Let's get 'em off the payroll. The Queen's

agreed to stop her expansionist policies, so there's

no reason we should keep paying for an army

this size."

Grimble gave my partner a look like he was

something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe.

"I was referring to an economic depression," he

said tersely. "If we dump that many ex-soldiers on

the job market at the same time we're cutting

back on military spending, it would create massive

unemployment. Broke, hungry people, particularly

those with prior military training, have a nasty

tendency to revolt against those in power . . .

which, in this case, happens to be us. I think

you'll agree, therefore, that, in the long run, huge

cutbacks in the military force is not the wisest

course to follow."

I was rapidly developing a greater respect for

Grimble. Obviously there was more to this bean-

counting game than I had ever imagined.

"We might, however, achieve some savings

through attrition," the Chancellor continued.

"Attrition?" I said. I had decided that, if I was

going to be any help at all in this effort, it was

time I admitted my ignorance and started learn-

ing some of the basic vocabulary.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

33

"In this case, Lord Skeeve," Grimble explained

with surprising patience, "the term refers to cut-

ting manpower by not rehiring as people termi-

nate at the normal rate ... or, for the army, that

we stop adding new recruits to replace those

whose term of enlistment is up. It will still cut

the size of the army, but at a slower rate more

easily absorbed by the civilian work force."

"Can we afford to do it slowly?" Aahz said,

seemingly unfazed by his earlier rebuke. "I was

under the impression the kingdom was in dire

straits financially."

"I believe I had heard some rumor that we

might be raising our tax rate?" The Chancellor

made the statement a question as he looked at me

pointedly.

"I'm not sure that will do any good," Bunny

said from where she was reviewing the figures

Grimble had passed her.

"Excuse me?" the Chancellor frowned.

"Well, from what I'm seeing here, the big prob-

lem isn't income, it's collections," she said, tap-

ping one of the sheets she was holding.

Grimble sighed, seeming to deflate slightly.

"I'll admit that's one of our weak suits," he

said, "But ..."

"Whoa! Time out!" I interrupted. "Could some-

one provide a translation?"

"What I'm saying is that the kingdom actually

has a fair amount of money," Bunny said, "but it's

all on paper. That is, people owe us a lot on back

taxes, but it isn't being collected. If we could

make some inroads into converting these receiv-

ables . . . that's debts owed to us . . . into cash.

34

Robert Asprin

which we can spend, the kingdom would be in

pretty good shape. Not stellar, mind you, but

enough to ease the current crisis."

"The problem is," Grimble said, picking up the

thread of her oration, "the citizens are extremely

un-cooperative when it comes to taxes. They

fight us every inch of the way in admitting how

much they owe, and when it comes to actually

paying their tax bill . . . well, the variety of

excuses they invent would be amusing, if we

weren't going bankrupt waiting for them to settle

their accounts."

"I can't argue with them there," Aahz smirked.

"It's the duty of every citizen to pay their fair

share of the cost of running the kingdom through

taxes," the Chancellor said testily.

"And it's the right of every individual to pay the

lowest possible amount of taxes they can justify

legally," my partner shot back.

For a moment, it sounded like old times, with

Aahz and Grimble going head to head. Unfortu-

nately, this time, we all had bigger fish to fry.

"Check me on this," I said, holding up a hand

to silence them. "What if we see if we can kill two

birds with one stone?"

"How's that?" Grimble frowned.

"Well, first, we implement your suggestion of

reducing the army by attrition . . . maybe hur-

rying it along a little by offering shortened enlist-

ments for anyone who wanted out early ..."

"That might help," the Chancellor nodded,

"but I don't see ..."

"And," I continued quickly, "convert a portion

of those remaining in the service into tax collec-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

35

tors. That way they can be helping to raise the

cash necessary to cover their own pay."

Grimble and Bunny looked at each other.

"That might work," Grimble said, thought-

fully.

"It can't do much worse than the system that's

already in place," Bunny nodded.

"Tell you what," I said loftily. "Kick it around

between the two of you and maybe rough out a

plan for implementing it. Aahz and I will go

discuss it with the Queen."

Actually, I had no intention of visiting Hem-

lock just now, but I figured it was as good a time

as any to escape from this meeting . . . while I

had at least a small victory to my credit.

I

Chapter Four:

"I'm getting paid how much?"

M. JORDAN

THE NEXT SEVERAL days were relatively uneventful.

In fact, they seemed so much alike that I tended

to lose track of which day was which.

If this sounds like I was more than a little

bored, I was. After years of adventuring and nar-

row escapes, I found the day to day routine of

regular work to be pretty bland. Of course, the

fact that I didn't know what I was doing contrib-

uted greatly to my mood.

I mean, within my own areas of specializa-

tion . . . such as running from angry mobs or

trying to finagle a better deal from a client ... I

was ready to admit that I was as good or better

than anyone. At things like budgets, operating

plans, and cash flows, however, I was totally out

of my depth.

It was more than a little spooky when I realized

37

38

Robert Asprin

that, even though I didn't know what I was doing,

the recommendations I was making or approv-

ing, like converting part of the army into tax

collectors, were becoming law nearly as fast as I

spoke. Still, it had been impressed on me that we

had to do something to save the kingdom's fi-

nances, so I repeatedly crossed my fingers under

the table and went with whatever seemed to be

the best idea at the time.

Before I get too caught up in complaining about

my situation, however, let me pause to give credit

where credit is due. As bad as things were, I

would have been totally lost without Bunny.

Though I didn't plan it that way, my adminis-

trative assistant ended up doing double duty.

First, she would spend long hours going over

numbers and plans with Grimble in their high

speed, abbreviated jargon while I sat there nod-

ding with a vacant look on my face, then an equal

or greater amount of time with me later patiently

trying to explain what had been decided. As mind

numbing as it was, I found it preferable to my

alternate pastime, which was trying to figure out

what to do about Queen Hemlock's marriage

offer.

Every so often, however, something would pop

up that I felt I DID know something about. While

it would usually turn out in the long run that I

was (badly) mistaken, it would provide a break

from the normal complacency. Of course, I wasn't

that wild about being shown to be specifically

stupid as well as generally ignorant, but it was a

change of pace.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

39

One conversation in particular springs to mind

when I think back on those sessions.

"Wait a minute, Bunny. What was that last

figure again?"

"What?" she said, glancing up from the piece of

paper she was reciting from. "Oh, that was your

budget."

"My budget for what?"

"For your portion of the financial operation, of

course. It covers salaries and operating expense."

"Whoa! Stop the music!" I said, holding up my

hand. "I officially retired as Court Magician. How

did I end up back on the payroll?"

"Grimble put you back on the same day you

came back from Perv," Bunny said patiently. "But

that has nothing to do with this. This is your

budget for your financial consulting. Your magi-

cal fees are in a whole separate section."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"Oh Skeeve," she grimaced, rolling her eyes

slightly. "I've explained all this to you before. We

have to keep the budgets for different kingdom

operations on separate records to be able to track

their performance accurately. Just like we have to

keep the types of expenses within each operation

in separate accounts. Otherwise . . ."

"No, I didn't mean that it was ridiculous to

keep them in separate sections," I clarified hast-

ily, before she could get settled into yet another

accounting lesson. "I meant the budget itself was

ridiculous."

For some reason, this seemed to get Bunny even

more upset rather than calming her down.

"Look, Skeeve," she said stiffly. "I know you

40

Robert Asprin

don't understand everything Grimble and I are

doing, but believe me, I don't just make these

numbers up. That figure for your budget is a

reasonable projection, based on estimated ex-

penses and current pay scales . . . even Grimble

says it's acceptable and has approved it. Realizing

that, I'd be very cautious to hear the exact basis

by which you're saying it's ridiculous."

"You don't understand, Bunny/' I said, shaking

my head. "I'm not saying the number is ridicu-

lous or inaccurate. What I mean is that it shouldn't

be there at all."

"What do you mean?"

I was starting to feel like we were speaking in

different languages, but pressed on bravely.

"Com'on, Bunny. All this work is supposed to

be saving money for the kingdom. You know,

turning the finances around?"

"Yes, yes," Bunny nodded. "So what's your

point?"

"So how does it help things to charge them

anything for our services, much less an outra-

geous rate like this. For that matter, I don't think

I should charge them for my magical services,

either, all things considered."

"Um, Partner?" Aahz said, uncoiling from his

customary seat in the corner. If anything, I think

he was even more bored by these sessions than I

was. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Before this

conversation goes any further?"

I knew what that meant. Aahz is notorious

when it comes to pushing our rates higher, oper-

ating under the basic principle that earning less

than possible is the same as losing money. As

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LJFE

41

soon as I started talking about not only reducing

our fees, but eliminating them completely, it was

only to be expected that Aahz would jump into

the fray. I mean, talk about money in general, and

about our money specifically, would bring Aahz

out of a coma.

This time, however, I wasn't about to go along

with him.

"Forget it, Aahz," I said, waving him off. "I'm

not going to back off on this one."

"But Partner," he said menacingly, reaching

out his hand casually for my shoulder.

"I said 'No!'" I insisted, ducking out of his

reach. I've tried to argue with him before when he

has gotten a death grip on my shoulder, and was

not about to give him that advantage again. "This

time I know I'm right."

"What's right about working for FREE!" he

snarled, abandoning all subtlety. "Haven't I taught

you ANYTHING in all these years!"

"You've taught me a lot!!" I shot back at him.

"And I've gone along with a lot ... and it usu-

ally turned out for the best. But there's one thing

we've never done, Aahz, for all our finagling and

scrambling. To the best of my knowledge, we've

never gouged money out of someone who couldn't

afford it. Have we?"

"Well, no. But . . ."

"If we can beat Deveels or the Mob out of some

extra money, well and good," I continued. "They

have lots of money, and I got most of it swindling

other people. But with Possiltum we're talking

about a kingdom that's on the ropes financially.

How can we say we're here to help them when at

42    Robert Asprin

the same time we're kicking them in the head

with inflated fees?"

Aahz didn't answer at once, and after a mo-

ment, he dropped his eyes.

"But Grimble's already approved it," he said

finally, in a voice that was almost plaintive.

I couldn't believe it! I had actually won an

argument with Aahz over money! Fortunately, I

had the presence of mind to be magnanimous in

my victory.

"Then I'm sure he'll approve of cutting the

expense even more," I said, putting my hand on

Aahz's shoulder for a change. "Aside from that,

it's just a clerical adjustment. Right, Bunny?"

"No."

She said it softly, but there was no mistaking

her answer. So much for my victory.

"But Bunny ..." I began desperately, but she

cut me off.

"I said 'No' and I meant it, Skeeve," she said.

"Really, Aahz. I'm surprised you've let this go on

for as long as it has. There are greater principles at

stake here than basic greed!"

Aahz started to open his mouth, then closed it

without speaking. It's probably the only time I've

seen Aahz agree, even by silence, that there

existed any higher principles than greed. Still,

Bunny was arguing his side of the fight, so he let

it ride.

"Your heart may be in the right place, Skeeve,"

she said, turning back to me, "but there are

factors here you're overlooking or don't under-

stand."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF UFE

43

"So explain them to me," I said, a little miffed,

but nonetheless willing to learn.

Bunny pursed her lips for a moment, apparently

organizing her thoughts.

"All right," she said, "let's take it from the

beginning. As I understand it, we're supposed to

be helping the kingdom get out of it's current

financial crisis. What Grimble and I have been

doing, aside from recommending emergency ex-

pense cuts, is to come up with a reasonable

budget and operating plan to get things back on an

even keel. The emphasis here is on 'reasonable.'

The bottom line is that it is not reasonable to

expect anyone . . . you, me, or Grimble ... to

provide such a crucial service for nothing. No-

body works for free. The army doesn't, the farm-

ers don't, and there's no reason we should."

"But because of that very crisis, the kingdom

can't afford to pay us!" I protested.

"Nonsense," Bunny snapped. "First of all, re-

member that the Queen got the kingdom into this

mess all by herself by pouring too much money

into the army. We're not the problem. We're the

imported experts who are supposed to get them

out of the hole they dug for themselves."

"Second," she continued before I could inter-

rupt, "as you can see from the sheets I'm showing

you, we can save enough in expenses and generate

sufficient revenues from taxes to pay our own fees.

That's part of the job of a bean-counter . . .

to show their employer how to afford to pay

themselves. Not many professions do that!"

What she was saying made sense, but I was still

unconvinced.

44

Robert Asprin

"Well, at the very least can't we cut our fees a

bit?" I said. "There's no real reason for us to

charge as much as you have us down for."

"Skeeve, Skeeve, Skeeve," Bunny said, shaking

her head. "I told you I didn't just make up these

numbers. I know you're used to negotiating deals

on what the client will bear, but in a budget like

this, the pay scale is almost dictated. It's set by

what others are getting paid. Anything else is so

illogical, it would upset the whole system."

I glanced at Aahz, but he had his eyes fixed on

Bunny, hanging on her every word.

"Okay. Let's take it from the top," I said.

"Explain it to me in babytalk, Bunny. Just how are

these pay scales fixed?"

She pursed her lips for a moment while orga-

nizing her thoughts.

"Well, to start with, you have to understand

that the pay scale for any job is influenced heavily

by supply and demand." she began. "Top dollar

jobs usually fall into one of three categories.

First, is if the job is particularly unpleasant or

dangerous . . . then, you have to pay extra just

to get someone to be willing to do it. Second are

the jobs where a particular skill or talent is called

for. Entertainers and athletes fall into this cat-

egory, but so do the jobs that require a high degree

of training, like doctors."

"And magicians!" my partner chimed in.

"Bear with me, Aahz," Bunny said, holding up a

restraining hand to him. "Now, the third category

for high pay are those who have a high degree of

responsibility . . . whose decisions involve a lot

of money and/or affect a lot of people. If a worker

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

45

in a corporation makes a mistake, it means a day's

or a week's work may have to be redone ... or,

perhaps, a client is lost. The president of the same

corporation may only make three or four deci-

sions a year, but those decisions may be to open or

close six plants or to begin or discontinue an

entire line of products. If that person makes a

mistake, it could put hundreds or thousands of

people out of work. Responsibility of that level is

frightening and wearing, and the person willing to

hold the bag deserves a higher degree of compen-

sation. With me so far?"

"It makes sense ... so far," I nodded.

"Moving along then, within each profession,

there's a pecking order with the best or most expe-

rienced getting the highest rates, while the newer,

lower workers settle for starting wages. Popular

entertainers earn more than relative unknowns

who are still building a following. Supervisors and

managers get more than those reporting to them,

since they have to have both the necessary skills

of the job plus the responsibility of organizing and

overseeing others. This is the natural order of a

job force, and it provides incentive for new work-

ers to stick with a job and to try to move up in the

order. Got it?"

"That's only logical," I agreed.

"Then you understand why I have you down in

the budget for the rather substantial figure you've

been protesting," she concluded triumphantly.

"I do?" I blinked.

I thought I had been following her fine, step by

step. Somewhere along the way, however, I seemed

to have missed something.

46

Robert Asprin

"Don't you see, Skeeve?" she pressed. "The

services you're providing for Possiltum fall into

all three of the high pay requirements. The work

is dangerous and unpleasant, it definitely requires

special skills from you and your staff, and, since

you're setting policy for an entire kingdom, the

responsibility level is right up there with the best

of them!"

I had never stopped to think about it in those

terms, mostly to preserve my nerves and sanity,

but she did have a point. She wasn't done, how-

ever.

"What's more," she continued, "you're darn-

near at the top of your profession and the pecking

order. Remember, Grimble's reporting to you now,

which makes your pay scale higher than his.

What's more, you've been a hot magical property

for some time now . . . not just here on Klah,

but at the Bazaar on Deva which is pretty big

league. Your Queen Hemlock has gotten the king-

dom in a major mess, and if she's going to hire the

best to bail her out, she's bloody well going to pay

for it."

That last part had an unpleasant sound of

vindictiveness to it, but there was something that

was bothering me even more.

"For the moment, let's say I agree with you . . .

at least on the financial side," I said. "I still don't

see how I can draw pay as a financial consultant

and a court magician.

"Because you're doing both jobs," Bunny in-

sisted.

". . . But I'm not working magikally right now,"

I shot back.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

47

"Aren't you?" she challenged. "Come on, Skeeve.

Are you trying to tell me that if some trouble arose

that required a magikal solution, that you'd just

stand by and ignore it?"

"Well, no. But ..."

"No 'buts,'" Bunny interrupted. "You're in resi-

dence here, and ready to throw your full resources

into any magikal assignment that arises . . . just

like you're doing at the Bazaar. They're paying

you a hefty percentage just to be on standby. If

anything, you're giving Possiltum a break on

what you're charging them. Make no mistake,

though, you are doing the job. I'm just making

sure they pay you for it. If they want a financial

consultant and a court magician, then it's only

fair that it shows in their budget and is part of the

burden they have to raise money to pay."

She had me. It occurred to me, however, that if

this conversation lasted much longer, she'd have

me believing that black was white.

"I guess it's okay then/' I said, shrugging my

shoulders. "It still sounds high to me."

"It is," Bunny said, firmly. "You've got to

remember though, Skeeve, that whole amount

isn't just for you. It's M.Y.T.H. Inc. the kingdom is

paying for. The fees have to cover the expense of

your entire operation, including overhead and

staff. It's not like you're taking the whole amount

and putting it in your pocket."

I nodded casually, but my mind was racing.

What Bunny had just said had given me an idea.

If nothing else, I had learned in these sessions

that there was a big difference between a budget

or operating plan and the actual money spent. Just

I

48

Robert Asprin

because I was allowed to spend an astronomic

figure didn't mean I was compelled to do it!

I quietly resolved to bring my sections in well

under budget . . . even if it meant trimming my

own staff a bit. I loved them all dearly, but as

Bunny had just pointed out, part of my own job

was to be highly responsible.

Chapter Five:

"What you need is a collection agency."

D. SHULTZ

MY SESSION WITH Bunny had given me food for

thought. Retreating to the relative privacy of my

room, I took time to reflect on it over a goblet of

wine.

Usually, I assigned people to work on various

assignments for M.Y.T.H. Inc. on a basis of what

I thought it would take to get the job done and

who I thought would be best to handle it. That,

and who was available.

As Bunny had pointed out, our prices were

usually set on a basis of what the traffic would

bear. I suppose I should have given more thought

in the past to whether or not the income from a

particular job covered the expense of the people

involved, or if the work warranted the price, but

operating the way we had been seemed to gener-

ate enough money to make ends meet . . . more

than enough, actually.

49

50

Robert Asprin

The recent two projects, my bringing Aahz

back from Perv and the rest of the team trying to

stop Possiltum's army, were notable exceptions.

These were almost personal missions, undertaken

on my own motivations or suggestions, without an

actual client or revenue.

Now, however, I was confronted by an entirely

new situation.

Everyone in the crew was hanging around the

castle . . . with the exception of Tananda, who

was minding the offices back on Deva. The ques-

tion was, did they have to be here?

I had a hunch that they were mostly staying

here because they were worried about me . . .

not without some justification. They all knew I

was in a spot, and wanted to be close at hand if I

needed help.

While I appreciated their concern, and defi-

nitely wanted the moral support, I also had to

admit that there wasn't whole bunches they could

do. Bunny was invaluable in turning the king-

dom's finances around, but aside from holding my

hand though this crisis, there was relatively little

the others could do.

The trouble was, by simple arithmetic, while

they were here on Possiltum, they weren't out

working other assignments, making money for

M.Y.T.H. Inc. and therefore for themselves . . .

for a whole month! On top of the work time they

missed while stopping Hemlock's army as a favor

to me. If this organization was going to be a

functioning, profit-making venture and not a hu-

manitarian "bail-Skeeve-out" charity, we had to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

51

get back our bottom-line orientation. What's more,

both as president and the one who had led us off

on this side trip, I had to seize the initiative in

setting things right again. That meant that I

either had to trim the force, or go along with

Bunny's plan of charging the kingdom for all our

time.

The question was, who to trim?

Aahz had to stay. Not only had I just gone

through a lot of trouble to get him back from Perv,

but I genuinely valued his advice and guidance.

While I had gotten into immeasurably more trouble

since we first met, I had also become very aware

that he was unequaled at getting us out of trouble as

well.

Bunny was a must. Even though it had been

Tananda's idea originally to deal her in on this

mess, I was very aware that without her expertise

and knowledge, we didn't have a chance at bailing

out the kingdom financially. Besides, judging by

her greeting when we were reunited, I wasn't sure

she'd be willing to go back to the Bazaar and leave

me to face this dilemma alone.

As to my three bodyguards . . . after a mo-

ment's thought I decided to hold judgment on

that one. First of all, I had just convinced Pookie

to stay, which would make me look like a fool if

I suddenly changed my mind. Second, I wasn't

altogether sure I wouldn't need them. When I

went off to Perv, I did it without Guido and

Nunzio . . . over their strong protests . . . and

ended up having to hire Pookie in their absence.

Before I thought seriously about sending them all

52

Robert Asprin

away again, I'd want to have a long talk about

how they viewed my prospective danger here.

While I wanted to save the kingdom money, I

wasn't so generous as to do it if it meant putting

myself in danger.

That left Massha and Chumley.

Massha came to me as an apprentice, and

though I hadn't been very diligent in teaching her

magik, I still had a responsibility to her that

couldn't be filled if she were on Deva and I was

here. Despite the fact I hadn't let her accompany

me to Perv, I knew full well from my own

experience that an apprentice's place is with his

or her teacher.

I was suddenly confronted by the fact that the

only one remaining on the list to be trimmed was

Chumley . . . and I didn't want to do it. Despite

the hairyknuckled, muscle-bound illiterate act

the troll liked to put on when he was working,

Chumley was probably the levelest head in our

entire M.Y.T.H. Inc. crew. Frankly, I trusted his

judgment and wisdom a lot more than I did

Aahz's fiery temper. The idea of trying to make up

my mind about Queen Hemlock's proposal with-

out Chumley's wisdom was disquieting at best.

Maybe after I had reached my decision . . .

As much as I had tried to avoid thinking about

it, the problem popped into my head and the

potential ramifications hit me with a chilling

impact.

Nervously, I gulped down the remaining wine

in my goblet and hastily refilled it.

After I reached my decision . . ,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

53

All my thoughts and energies were focused on

the immediate problems and short term plans.

What was going to happen after I made my

decision, whatever that decision was?

Things were never going to be the same for me.

Whether I married Queen Hemlock or, if refused,

she abdicated and left me to run the kingdom on

my own, I was going to be committed to stay in

Possiltum a long time. A very long time.

I couldn't do that and maintain an office on

Deva!

Would we have to move our operation here to

Klah?

For that matter, could I be either a consort or a

king and still do a responsible job as the president

of M.Y.T.H. Inc.?

If I was uneasy about charging the kingdom for

my crew for a month, how could I justify putting

them all on the payroll permanently!

What about our other commitments? if we

moved to Klah, it would mean giving up our juicy

contract with the Devan Merchant's Association

as magicians in residence. Could I charge Possil-

tum enough to make up for that kind of an

income loss?

... Or would I have to step down as president

of M.Y.T.H. Inc. entirely? Despite my occasional

complaining, I had grown to like my position, and

was reluctant to give it up ... particularly if it

meant losing all my friends like Aahz and . . .

AAHZl

However it went, would Aahz want to hang

around as a partner constantly standing in the

54

Robert Asprin

shadow of my being consort or king? Having just

recently dealt with his pride head to head, I

doubted it very much.

Whatever my decision, the odds were that, once

I reached it, I was going to lose Aahz!

A soft rap on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Say, Boss. Can you spare a minute?"

Not only could I spare it, I was glad for the

break.

"Sure Guido. Come on in. Pour yourself some

wine."

"I never drink when I'm workin', Boss," he said

with a hint of reproach, "but thanks anyway. I

just need to talk to you about something."

My senior bodyguard took a chair and sat fidg-

eting with the roll of parchment he was holding.

It occurred to me how seldom I just sat and talked

with my bodyguards. I had rather gotten accus-

tomed to their just being there.

"So, what can I do for you?" I said, sipping my

wine casually, trying to put him at his ease.

"Well, Boss," he began hesitantly, "it's like

this. I was thinkin' . . . You know how Nunzio

and me spent some time in the army here?"

"Yes, I heard about that."

"Bein' on the inside like that, I get the feelin' I

probably know a little more'n you do about the

army types and how they think. The truth is, I'm

a little worried about how they're gonna handle

bein' tax collectors. Know what I mean?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"What I mean is," Guido continued earnestly,

"when you're a soldier, you don't have to worry

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

55

much about how popular you are with the enemy,

'cause mostly you're tryin' to make him dead and

you don't expect him to like it. It's different doin'

collection work, whether it's protection money or

taxes, which is of course just a different kind of

protection racket. Ya gotta be more diplomatic

'cause you're gonna have to deal with the same

people over and over again. These army types

might be aces when it comes to takin' real estate

away from a rival operation, but I'm not sure how

good they are at knowin' when to be gentle with

civilian types. Get my drift?"

While I had never shared Guide's experience of

being in an army, I had faced one once during my

first assignment here at the court of Possiltum,

and even earlier had been lynched by some sol-

diers acting as city guardsmen. Now, suddenly, I

had visions of army troops with crossbows and

catapults advancing on helpless citizens.

"I hadn't really thought about it," I said, "but I

see your point."

"Well, you know I don't care much for meddlin'

in management type decisions," Guido contin-

ued, "but I have a suggestion. I was thinkin' you

could maybe appoint someone from the army to

specifically inspect and investigate the collectin'

process. You know, to be sure the army types

didn't get too carried away with their new du-

ties."

I really appreciated Guide's efforts to come up

with a solution, particularly as I didn't have one

of my own. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a

bit of a flaw in his logic.

56

Robert Asprin

"Um ... I don't quite understand, Guido," I

said. "Isn't it kind of pointless to have someone

from the army watching over the army? I mean,

what's to say our inspector will be any different

from the one's he's supposed to be policing?"

"Two things/' my bodyguard replied, flashing

his smile for the first time since he entered the

room. "First, I have someone specific in mind for

the inspector . . . one of my old army buddies.

Believe me, Boss, this person is not particularly

fond or tolerant of the way the army does things.

As a matter of fact, I've already had the papers

drawn up to formalize the assignment. All you

gotta do is sign 'em."

He passed me the scroll he had been clutching

and I realized he had actually been thinking out

this suggestion well in advance.

"Funny name for a soldier," I said, scanning the

document. "Spyder."

"Trust me, Boss," Guido pressed. "This is the

person for the job."

"You said there were two things?" I stalled.

"What's the other?"

"Well, I thought you could have a couple per-

sonal envoys tag along. You know, reportin' di-

rectly to you. That way you could be doubly sure

the army wasn't hidin' anything from you."

"I see," I said, toying with the scroll. "And I

suppose you have a couple specific people in mind

for the envoys, as well?"

"Um ... As a matter of fact . . ."

"I don't know, Guido," I said, shaking my head.

"I mean, it's a good idea, but I'm not sure I can

spare both you and Nunzio. If nothing else, I want

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

57

Nunzio to do a little work with Gleep. I want to

find out for sure if there's anything wrong with

him."

"Ah . . . Actually, Boss," my bodyguard said,

carefully studying his massive hands, "I wasn't

thinkin' of Nunzio. I was thinkin' maybe Pookie

and me could handle it."

More than anything else he had said, this sur-

prised me. Guido and his cousin Nunzio had

always worked as a team, to a point where I

practically thought of the two of them as one

person. The fact that Guido was willing to split

the team up was an indication of how concerned

he was over the situation. Either that, or a sign of

how far he was willing to go to get some time

alone with Pookie.

"Really, Boss," he urged, sensing my hesitation.

"There ain't a whole lot to do here for three

bodyguards. I mean, the way I see it, the only one

here in the castle who might want to do you any

bodily harm is the Queen herself, and I don't

think you have to worry about her until after

you've made up your mind on the marriage thing.

I'm just lookin' for a way that we can earn our

keep . . . something useful to do."

That did it. His point about reassigning my

bodyguards played smack into my current think-

ing about trimming the team or expanding their

duties. Then, too, I wasn't eager to prolong any

discussion which involved my making up my

mind about what to do about Hemlock.

"Okay, Guido," I said, scribbling my signature

across the bottom of the scroll. "You've got it.

58    Robert Asprin

Just be sure to keep me posted as to what's going

on."

"Thanks, Boss," he grinned, taking the scroll

and looking at the signature. "You won't regret

this."

It hadn't occurred to me at all that I might

regret it ... until he mentioned it. I mean, what

could go wrong?

Chapter Six:

"Money is the root of all evil. Women

need roots."

D. TRUMP

THOUGH THE VARIOUS administrative hassles of try-

ing to straighten out Possiltum's finances weighed

heavily on my mind, there was another, bigger

worry that ran like an undercurrent through my

head whenever I was awake.

Should I or shouldn't I marry Queen Hemlock?

Aahz kept saying that I should go along with it,

become the royal consort with an easy (not to

mention well-paying) job for life. I had to admit,

in many ways it looked more attractive than

having her abdicate and ending up holding the bag

for running the kingdom all by myself. I had that

"opportunity" once before courtesy of the late

King Roderick, and really didn't want to repeat

the experience.

So why was I dragging my feet on making my

decision?

59

60

Robert Asprin

Mostly, my indecision was due to my reluc-

tance to accept the obvious choice. As much as I

was repelled by the known quantity of being king,

I was as much or more terrified of the unknown

factors involved in marriage.

Time and time again, I tried to sort out if it was

the idea of getting married that scared me, or if it

was Queen Hemlock specifically that I couldn't

picture as my wife.

My wife!

Every time that phrase crossed my mind, it was

like an icy hand grabbed my heart hard enough to

make it skip a beat.

Frankly, I was having trouble picturing anyone

I knew in that role. In an effort to get a handle on

my feelings, I forced myself to review the women

of my acquaintance in that light.

Massha, my apprentice, was out of the ques-

tion. While we were close enough as friends, as

well as teacher/student, her sheer size was in-

timidating. The truth was, I had trouble thinking

of her as a woman. Oh, I knew she was female all

right, but I tended to see her as a friend who was

female . . . not as a female, if you can see the

difference.

Bunny . . . well, I supposed that she could be

considered a candidate. The problem there was

that she was the first woman who had made a

solid pass at me, and it had scared me to death.

When her uncle, Don Bruce, first dumped her on

me, she was all set to play a gangster's moll. Once

I got her straightened out, however, she had

settled into being my administrative assistant

like a duck takes to water, and the question of

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

61

anything intimate developing between us never

came up again. Thinking of her in terms of a life

partner would mean completely restructuring how

I viewed her and worked with her, and right now

she was far too valuable as my assistant for me to

rock the boat.

Tananda ... I had to smile at the thought of

the Trollop assassin as my wife. Oh, she was

friendly enough, not to mention very attractive,

and for a long time I had a crush on her. It

eventually became apparent, however, that the

hugs and kisses she bestowed on me were no

different than those she gave the rest of the

team . . . including her brother Chumley. She was

just a physically friendly person, and the affection

she showed me was that shown for a co-worker,

or maybe a kid brother. I could accept that, now.

Besides, I somehow couldn't see her giving up her

own career to settle down keeping house for me.

No, as much as I loved her, Tananda would never

fit as my wife. She was . . . well, Tananda.

That left Queen Hemlock, who I had no real

feeling for at all except, perhaps a sense of uneasi-

ness every time she was around. She always

seemed extremely sure of herself and what she

wanted . . . which made her almost my exact

opposite. Of course, that in itself was an interest-

ing thought. Then, too, she was the only one who

had ever expressed a desire to be paired with

me . . . and seemed to want it badly enough to

fight for it. Even Bunny had backed off once I

rebuffed her. I had to admit that it did something

to a man's ego to have a woman determined to bag

62

Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

63

him . . . even if he wasn't all that drawn to the

woman in the first place.

Unfortunately, that was pretty much it for my

list of female acquaintances. Oh, there were a few

others I had come into contact with over the

years, like Markie . . . and Luanna . . .

Luanna!!

She had almost slipped my mind completely,

but once I thought of her, her face sprang into

focus as if she were standing in front of me.

Luanna. Lovely Luanna. Our paths had only crossed

a couple times, most notedly during my adven-

ture in the dimension of Limbo, and the last time

we met the parting hadn't been pleasant. In short,

I really didn't know her at all. Still, in many ways,

she epitomized everything that was feminine in

my mind. Not only did she radiate a soft, vulner-

able beauty, her manner was demure. That may

not seem like much to you, but it was to me. You

see, most of the women I work with can only be

called aggressive ... or, less politely, brassy. Even

Hemlock, for all her regal blood, was very straight-

forward about stating her mind and wishes. Bunny

had cooled it a bit, once I got her off her moll kick,

but had replaced her blatant suggestiveness with

a brusk efficient manner that, at times, could be

every bit as intimidating as her old sex kitten

routine.

In contrast, Luanna always seemed very shy

and hesitant in my presence. Her voice was usu-

ally quiet to a point I sometimes had to strain to

hear her, and she had a habit of looking down,

then peering up at me through her lashes ... as

if she felt I could bully her physically or verbally,

L

but trusted me not to. I can't speak for other men,

but it always made me feel ten feet tall . . . very

powerful and with an overwhelming urge to use

that strength to protect her from the hardships of

the world.

Thinking of her while trying to appraise what I

would want in a wife, I found myself dwelling on

the image of finding her waiting for me at the

close of each day . . . and realized the image

wasn't all that objectionable. In fact, once she

surfaced in my memory, I found myself thinking

of her quite a bit whenever I tried to sort out

my current position, and more than occasionally

wished I could see her again before I had to make

my final decision.

As it turned out, I got my wish.

I was in my room, making another of my feeble

attempts to make head or tail of the stack of

spreadsheets that Bunny and Grimble kept pass-

ing me on an almost daily basis. As those of you

who have been following these adventures from

the beginning may recall, I can read ... or, at

least, I had thought that I could. Since undertak-

ing the task of sorting out the kingdom's finances,

however, I had found out that reading text, which

is to say, words, is a lot different than being able

to read numbers.

I mean, we were all in agreement as to our goal,

which was to eliminate or lessen the kingdom's

debt load without either placing a staggering tax

burden on the populace or cutting so much off the

operating budget that the necessary administra-

tive operations became non-functional. As I say,

we were all in agreement . . . verbally . . .

64

Robert Asprin

with words. Any time there was a disagreement

between Grimble and Bunny on particulars, how-

ever, and they came to me to cast the deciding

vote or make a decision, they would each invari-

ably support their side of the argument by passing

me one or more of those cryptic sheets covered

with numbers and not much else, then wait

expectantly as I scanned it, as if their case had just

become self-explanatory.

Now, for those of you who have never been

placed in this situation, let me offer a little

clarification. When I say I can't read numbers, I

don't mean that I can't decipher the symbols. I

know what a two is and what it stands for and

how it differs from, say, an eight. The problem I

was confronted with in these arguments was

trying to see them in relation to each other. To do

a "word analogy," if the numbers were words,

both Bunny and Grimble could look at a page full

of numbers and see sentences and paragraphs,

complete with subtleties and innuendos, whereas

I would look at the same page and see a mass of

unrelated, individual words. This was particu-

larly uncomfortable when they would pass me

two pages of what to them was a mystery novel,

and ask my opinion on who the killer was.

Even though I knew they knew I was a numeric

illiterate, I had gotten awfully tired of saying

"Duh, I don't know" in varying forms, and, in an

effort to salvage a few shreds of my self-respect,

had taken to saying instead "Let me look these

over and get back to you." Unfortunately, this

meant that at any specific point in time, I had a

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

65

batch of these "mystery sheets" on my desk that

I felt obligated to at least try to make sense of.

Anyhoo, that's what I was doing when a knock

came at my door. In short, I was feeling inept,

frustrated, and desperately in need of diversion.

"Yes?" I called eagerly, hoping beyond hope

that it was news of an earthquake or attacking

army or something equally disastrous that would

require my immediate attention. "Who is it?"

The door opened, and Massha's head appeared.

"You busy, Hot Stuff?" she said with the re-

spect and deference she always shows me as my

apprentice. "You've got a visitor."

"Nothing that can't wait," I replied, hastily

stacking the offensive spreadsheets and replacing

them in their customary spot on the corner of my

desk. "Who's the visitor?"

"It's Luanna. You remember, the babe who

almost got us killed over in Limbo."

In hindsight, I can see that Massha was both

expressing her disapproval and trying to warn me

with her description of Luanna, but at the time it

didn't register at all.

"Luanna?" I said, beaming with delight. "Sure,

bring her in. Better yet, send her in."

"Don't worry," Massha sniffed, disdainfully. "I

wouldn't dream of intruding on your little tete-a-

tete."

Again, her reaction escaped my notice. I was far

to busy casting about the room quickly to be sure

it was presentable . . . which, of course, it was.

If nothing else, the maid service in the castle was

stellar.

66

Robert Asprin

And she was there . . . standing in my room,

as lovely and winsome as I remembered.

"Uh ... Hi, Luanna," I said, suddenly at a

loss for words.

"Skeeve," she said in that soft, low voice that

seemed to make the simplest statements an exer-

cise in eloquence.

We looked at each other in silence for a few

moments.

Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that the last

time we saw each other, she had left in a huff

under the misapprehension that I was married

and had a kid.

"About the last ..." I began.

"I'm sorry about . . ." she stated simulta-

neously.

We both broke off abruptly, then looked at each

other and laughed.

"Okay. You first," I said finally, with a half bow.

"I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted

the last time we were together. What I heard later

from the rumor mill at the Bazaar convinced me

that things weren't what they seemed at the time,

and I felt terrible about not having given you a

chance to explain. I should have looked you up

sooner to say how sorry I was, but I wasn't sure

you'd even want to talk to me again. I ... I only

hope you can forgive me . . . even though there's

no real reason you should ..."

Her voice trailed off as she dropped her eyes.

Looking the way she did, so demure, so defense-

less, I could have forgiven her for being a mass

murderess, much less for any minor misunder-

standing between us.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

67

"Don't worry about it," I said, in what I hoped

was an offhand manner. "Truth to tell, Luanna, I

was about to apologize to you. It must have been

terrible for you . . . coming to me for help and

walking into the ... ah ... situation you did.

I've been thinking that I should have handled it a

lot better than I did."

"That's so sweet of you, Skeeve," Luanna said,

stepping forward to give me a quick hug and a

peck of a kiss. "You don't know how glad I am to

hear you say that."

Not surprisingly, her brief touch did strange

things to my mind . . . and metabolism. It was

only the second time she had kissed me and the

other time I had been in the middle of conning her

out of a handkerchief so I could get Aahz out of

jail. All of which is to say I was far from immune

to her kisses, however casual.

"So ... ah ... What brings you to Possil-

tum?" I said, fighting to keep my reactions from

showing.

"Why, you of course."

"Me?"

Despite my feigned surprise, I felt my pulse

quicken. I mean, I could have assumed that she

was here to see me, but it was nice to have it

confirmed that I was the sole purpose of her visit

rather than a polite afterthought.

"Sure. I heard about your new position here,

and figured it was too good a chance to pass up."

That didn't sound quite so good.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm getting it all turned around," she said,

68

Robert Asprin

cutely annoyed with herself. "What I'm trying to

say is that I have a proposal for you."

That was better. In fact, it was a little too good

to be true. While I had been indulging my fanta-

sies about Luanna as a possible wife, I never dared

to think that she might be thinking the same

thoughts about me ... as a husband, I mean,

not a wife.

"A proposal?" I said, deliberately stalling to

organize my thoughts.

"That's right. I figure that you've probably got a

bit of discretionary funds available now that you're

on the kingdom payroll, and the kind of scams I

run have a good return on investment, so I was

hoping that I could get a little start-up money

from you and ..."

"Whoa! Stop the music!"

It had taken a few beats for what she was saying

to sink in, obsessed as I was with my own

expectations of the conversation. Even now, with

my pretty dream-bubble exploding around me, I

was having trouble changing gears mentally to

focus on what she was actually getting at.

"Could you back up and take it from the top?

You're here to ask for money?"

"Well . . . Yes. Not much really . . . maybe

fifty or seventy-five in gold should do." she clari-

fied hastily. "The nice thing with scams is they

don't really need much up-front capital."

"You mean you want to borrow money from

me so you can run a swindle? Here, in Possil-

tum?"

The look she leveled on me was, to say the

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

69

least, cold and appraising. Not at all the coy, shy,

averted gaze I was used to from her.

"Of course. That's what I do," she said levelly.

"I thought you knew that when you offered me a

job. Or are you just miffed because I prefer to

operate independently? I suppose this is pretty

small potatoes to you, but it's the best I can do."

As she spoke, my mind was racing back over

the previous times I had seen or spoken with her.

While I was aware then that she was always

involved in or running from the results of some

swindle or other, I had always assumed that she

was a sweet kid who was going along with her

partner, Matt. I realized now that I had no basis on

which to make that assumption, other than her

innocent looks. In fact, beyond her looks, I really

didn't know her at all.

"Is it?" I said. "Is it really the best you can do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, couldn't you do as well or better trying

your hand at something legitimate? What if I

passed you enough money to start and run a

normal business?"

The last vestige of my idealized fantasies re-

garding Luanna died as her lip curled in a sneer.

"You mean run a little shop or grocery store?

Me? No thanks. That's way too much like work.

Funny, I always thought that if anyone would

understand that, you would. You didn't get where

you are today by hard work and sweat, you did it

by fleecing the gullible and flim-flamming the

ignorant, just like Matt and I did . . . just on a

larger scale. Of course, we didn't have a demon

helping us along, like you did. Even now, as rich

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Robert Asprin

and respectable as you're supposed to be, I'll bet

you're pulling down a healthy skim from this

kingdom. It's got to be real easy, what with having

the Queen in your pocket and everybody doing

whatever you say. All I'm trying to do is to cut

myself in for a piece of the action . . . and a little

piece, at that."

I was silent for a few moments. I thought of

trying to tell her about the long hours and work I

and my team were putting in trying to straighten

out the kingdom's finances. I even considered

showing her some of the cryptic spreadsheets on

my desk . . . but decided against it. She might

be able to decipher them, and if she could would

doubtless ask some embarrassing questions about

the hefty fee I was taking for my services. I was

having trouble justifying that to myself, much

less to her.

The inescapable conclusion, however, was that

no matter what I had thought lovely Luanna was

like, we were worlds apart in our views of people

and how they should be treated.

Reaching into our petty cash drawer, I started

counting some coins.

"Tell you what, Luanna," I said, not looking up.

"You said you needed fifty to seventy-five in gold?

Well I'm going to give you a hundred and fifty . . .

double to triple what you asked for ... not as a

loan or an investment, just as a gift."

"But why would you ..."

". . . There are two conditions, though," I con-

tinued, as if she hadn't spoken. "First, that you

use some of the extra money for travel. Go off

dimension or to another part of Klah ... I don't

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

71

care. Just so long as when you start to run your

swindle, it's not in Possiltum."

"Okay, but . . ."

"And second," I said, setting the stack of coins

on the edge of the desk near her, "I want you to

promise that you will never see or speak to

me . . . ever again . . . starting now."

For a moment, I thought she was going to

speak. She opened her mouth, then hesitated,

shrugged, and shut it again. In complete silence

she gathered up the coins and left, shutting the

door behind her.

I poured myself another goblet of wine and

moved to the window, staring out at the view

without really seeing anything. Dreams die hard,

but whatever romantic thoughts I had ever had

involving Luanna had just been squashed pretty

thoroughly. I couldn't change that, but I could

mourn their passing.

There was a soft knock at the door, and my

heart took a sudden leap. Maybe she had changed

her mind! Maybe she had thought it over and

decided to return the money in favor of a legiti-

mate business loan!

"Come in," I called, trying not to sound to

eager.

The door opened, and a vampire walked in.

Chapter Seven:

"You just don't know women."

H. HEFNER

"WINE? No THANKS. Never touch the stuff."

"Oh. That's right. Sorry, Vie," I said, refilling

my own goblet.

"You know," my guest said, settling himself

more comfortably in his seat, "it's women like

Luanna that give vampires a bad name. They're

the ones who will mercilessly suck someone dry,

and the concept sort of slopped over onto us!"

In case you're wondering (or have neglected to

read the earlier books in this series), Vie is the one

who walked into my room at the end of the last

chapter, and yes he is a vampire. Actually, he's a

pretty nice guy . . . about my age and a fairly

successful magician in his own right. He just

happens to come from Limbo, a dimension that's

primarily "peopled" by vampires, werewolves,

and the like.

73

74

Robert Asprin

Apparently he had stopped by our office on

Deva looking to invite me out for lunch. When

Tananda, who was currently minding the fort for

us, told him where I was, he decided to pop over

for a visit. (As an aside, one of his Limbo-born

talents is the ability to travel the dimension

without mechanical aid . . . something I've al-

ways envied and wanted to learn.)

Truth to tell, I was more than a little glad to see

Vie. He was one of the few in my acquaintance

who was familiar with the trials and tribulations

of being a professional magician, yet wasn't an

actual member of our crew. Not meaning any

disrespect or criticism of my colleagues, mind

you, but . . . well . . . they were more like fam-

ily and my actions and future definitely affected

them, whereas Vie was a bit more able to stand

apart and view things objectively. This made it a

lot easier to express my feelings and problems to

him, which 1 had proceeded to do, starting with

Queen Hemlock's proposal and running it right

up through my recent rather disheartening meet-

ing with Luanna.

Until he brought it up, I had forgotten that he

had met Luanna. In fact, he had worked with her

and Matt, and consequently gone on the lam with

them . . . which was when I met him in the first

place. As such, he knew the lady under discussion

far better than I did, and my new analysis of her

seemed more in line with his earlier formed

opinions than with my own cherished daydreams.

"I can't say much about what you're doing with

the kingdom's budgets and stuff," the vampire

said with an easy shrug. "That's out of my league.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

75

It does occur to me, though, that you're having

more than your share of woman problems."

"You can say that again," I agreed, toasting him

with my goblet.

"I'll admit I'm a bit surprised," Vie continued.

"I would have thought that someone with your

experience would have been able to side-step

some of these tangles . . . and definitely spotted

a gold-digger like Luanna a mile away."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to level

with him.

"To be honest with you, Vie, I haven't had all

that much experience with women."

"Really?" The vampire was gratifyingly sur-

prised.

"Let's just say that while Aahz and the others

have been fairly diligent about teaching me the

ins and outs of business and magik, there have

been certain areas of my education that have been

woefully and annoyingly neglected."

"Now that I might be able to help you with."

"Excuse me?"

I had been momentarily lost in my own thoughts,

and had somehow missed a turn in the conversa-

tion.

"It's easy," Vie said with a shrug. "You're hav-

ing trouble making up your mind whether or not

you should get married at all ... much less to

Queen Hemlock. Right?"

"Well ..."

"Right?" he pressed.

"Right."

"To me, the problem is that you don't have

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

77

enough information to make an educated deci-

sion."

"You can say that again," I said heavily, gulping

at my wine. "What's more, between the workload

here and Queen Hemlock's timetable, I don't

figure I'm going to get any, either."

"That's where I think I can help you," my guest

smiled, leaning back in his chair again.

"Excuse me?" I said, fighting off the feeling that

our conversation was caught in an unending loop.

"What would you say to a blind date?"

That one caught me totally off guard.

"Well . . . the same thing I'd say to a date that

could see, I imagine," I managed at last. "The

trouble is, I haven't had any experience with

either ..."

"No, no," the vampire interrupted. "I mean,

How would you like me to fix you up with a date?

Someone you've never seen before?"

"That would have to be the case," I nodded. "I

don't recall ever having met a blind person . . .

male or female. Not that I've consciously avoided

them, mind you ..."

"Hold it! Stop!" Vie said, holding up one hand

while pressing the other to his forehead.

It occurred to me that, in that pose, he looked

more than a little like Aahz.

"Let's try this again . . . from the top. We were

talking about your needing more experience with

women. What I'm suggesting is that I line you up

with a date . . . someone I know ... so you

can get that experience. Got it?"

"Got it," I nodded. "You know someone who's

blind. Tell me, should I act any different around

her?"

"No. ... I mean, yes! NO!"

Vie seemed to be getting very worked up over

the subject, and more than a little confused . . .

which made two of us.

"Look, Skeeve," he said finally, through clenched

teeth. "The girl I'm thinking about is not blind.

She's perfectly normal. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, hesitantly, looking for the hook.

"A perfectly normal, average girl."

"Well . . . not all that normal, or average,",

the vampire smiled, relaxing a bit. "She's a lot of

fun ... if you get what I mean. And she's a real

looker . . . knock your eyes out beautiful."

"You mean I'll go blind?"

Out of my merciful nature and in the interest of

brevity (too late), I'll spare you the blow by blow

account of the rest of the conversation. Let it

suffice to say that, by the time Vie departed, it had

been established that he would arrange for me to

step out with a lovely lady of his acquain-

tance . . . one who was in full command of

her senses . . . sort of (that part still confused me a

little) . . . and who would not adversely affect my

health or senses, but would, if Vie were to be

believed, advance my education regarding the op-

posite sex to dizzying heights.

It sounded good to me. Like any healthy young

man, I had a normal interest in women . . .

which is to say I didn't think of them more than

three or four times a day. My lack of first hand

experience I attributed to a dearth of opportunity,

which apparently was about to be remedied. To

J

78

Robert Asprin

say I was looking forward to my date would be an

understatement ... a VAST understatement.

However the events of the day weren't over yet.

There was a knock at the door, but this time I

wasn't going to get caught making any assump-

tions.

"Who is it?" I called.

"General Badaxe," came the muffled response.

"I was wondering if you could spare me a mo-

ment?"

I was more than a little surprised. The General

and I had never been on particularly good terms,

and it was rare if ever that he called on me in my

personal quarters. Casting about for an explana-

tion, it occurred to me that he was probably more

than a little upset at the cutbacks I had made in

the army and military budget. In the same thought,

it occurred to me that he might be out to murder

me in my own room ... or, at least, mess me up

a little. As fast as the idea surfaced, however, I

discarded it. Whatever else the General was, he

was as straightforward and non-scheming as any-

one I had ever met. If he meant to do me harm, it

would doubtless be on the spur of the moment

when we encountered each other in the halls or

courtyard of the castle . . . not by stealth in my

room. In short, I felt I could rule out premeditated

mayhem. If he were going to kill me, it would be

spontaneous ... a thought that didn't settle my

mind as much as I hoped it would.

"Come in," I called . . . and he did.

It was, indeed, the General of Possiltum's army,

and without his namesake massive axe, for a

change. Not that it's absence made him notice-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

79

ably less dangerous, mind you, as Badaxe was

easily the largest man I had ever met. Upon

viewing him, however, I was a bit embarrassed by

my original worries. Rather than the stern, angry

countenance I was accustomed to, he seemed

very ill at ease and uncomfortable.

"Sorry to interrupt your work, Lord Magician,"

he said, nervously looking about the room, "but I

find it necessary to speak to you on ... a per-

sonal matter."

"Certainly, General," I said, trying to put him

at his ease. Strangely, I found that his obvious

discomfort was making me uneasy. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, I'd rather stand."

So much for putting him at ease.

"As you wish," I nodded. "What is it you

wanted to see me about?"

I realized with some chagrin that I was falling

into a formal speech pattern, but found that I

couldn't help it. Badaxe seemed bound and deter-

mined to be somber, and I felt obligated to re-

spond in kind.

"Well ... I'd like to speak to you about your

apprentice."

"Aahz?" I said. As far as the kingdom was

concerned, Aahz was my loyal student.

"What's he done now?"

"No . . . not Aahz." the General clarified hast-

ily. "I was referring to Massha."

"Massha?" I blinked. This was truly a surprise.

As far as I knew, Massha and the General had

always gotten along fine. "Very well. What's the

problem?

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Lord Magician.

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Robert Asprin

There's no problem. Quite the contrary. I wanted

to speak to you taking her hand in marriage."

On a day of surprises, this announcement caught

me the most off guard.

"Why?" I sputtered, unable to think of any-

thing else to say.

The General's brow darkened noticeably.

"If you're referring to her less than slender

appearance, or perhaps the difference in our

age . . ."he began in a deep growl.

"No, you misunderstand me," I said hastily,

cutting him off ... though once he mentioned

them, both points were worth reflecting on. "I

meant, why should you want to speak to me

about such a matter?"

"Oh. That."

For the moment, at least, Badaxe seemed mol-

lified. I mentally made a note to table any discus-

sion of the two points he had raised until another

time.

"It's really rather simple, Lord Magician," the

General was continuing. "Though I suppose it's

rather old fashioned of me, I felt I should follow

proprieties and establish my good intentions by

stating them in advance. Normally I'd speak to

her father, but, in this case, you seem to be the

closest thing to a father she has."

Now I was truly flabbergasted. Mostly because,

try as I might, I couldn't find a hole in his logic.

He was right. Even though she was older than

me, Massha had never spoken of her family at

all ... much less a father. What was more, this

was one I couldn't even fob off on Aahz. Since she

was my apprentice, I was responsible for her care

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

81

and well-being as well as her training. If there was

anyone the General should speak to on matters

regarding Massha's future, it was me!

"I see," I said, stalling for time to think. "And

what does Massha have to say about this?"

"So far, I haven't spoken to her directly on the

subject," Badaxe admitted uneasily, "though I

have reason to believe the idea wouldn't be totally

unwelcome to her. Frankly, I felt that I should

attempt to gain your approval first."

"And why is that?"

I was getting better at this stalling game, and

questions were a handy weapon.

The General eyed me levelly.

"Come, come, Lord Magician," he said. "I

thought that we had long since agreed there was

no need to bandy words between us. You know as

well as I that Massha has a great deal of affection

for you. What's more, there is the added loyalty of

an apprentice to her teacher. While I have never

shied from either battle or competition, I would

prefer to spare her any unnecessary anguish. That

is, I feel it would aid my case immensely if, at the

same time I asked her to be my wife, I could state

that I had spoken with you and that you had no

personal or professional objections to such a match.

That is, of course, assuming you don't."

I was silent for a few moments, reflecting on

what he had said. Specifically, I was berating

myself for being so selfish in my thinking, of only

considering the consequences to me in my deci-

sion of whether or not to marry Queen Hemlock.

Even when I had been thinking of my friends and

colleagues, I had been looking at it in terms of my

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Robert Asprin

loss of their friendship, not what it might mean to

them.

"Then again, perhaps I was wrong in my as-

sumption."

The General's words interrupted my thoughts,

and I was suddenly aware that he had been

waiting for a response from me.

"Forgive me, General . . . Hugh," I said hastily.

I had to think quickly to recall his first name. "I

was simply lost in thought for a moment. Certainly

I have no objections. I've always held you in the

highest regard, and, if Massha is amenable, I

would be the last to stand between her and happi-

ness. Feel free to proceed with my approval . . .

and best wishes."

Badaxe seized my hand and pumped it hard . . .

unfortunately before I could pull it away in alarm.

"Thank you, Lord . . . Skeeve," he said with

an intensity I had only seen him express in battle

planning. "I ... Thank you."

Releasing my hand, he strode to the door,

opened it, then paused.

"Were it not for the fact that, assuming she

agrees, of course, I expect Massha will ask you to

give the bride away, I'd ask you to honor me by

standing as my best man."

Then he was gone . . . which was just as well,

as I had no idea what to say in response.

Massha and Badaxe. Married.

Try as I might, I couldn't get my mind around

the concept . . . which is a comment on the

limits of my imagination and NOT on their

respective physical sizes, individually or as a

twosome.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

83

Finally, I abandoned the effort completely. In-

stead, I poured myself another goblet of wine and

settled back for the far more pleasant exercise of

speculating on my own upcoming date.

Chapter Eight:

"Loue is blind. Lust isn't!"

D. GIOVANI

I FOUND MYSELF experiencing mixed feelings as I

prepared for my date that evening. On the one

hand, I wasn't real sure about how much fun it

would be spending an entire evening with a

woman I had never met before. While I had a

certain amount of faith in Vie not to stick me

with a real loser, it occurred to me that it would

be nice to have some vague idea of what she was

going to look like. Heck, if she turned out to be a

lousy conversationalist, the evening could still

turn out okay if she was at least fun to look at.

Despite my nagging concerns, however, there

was no denying I felt a certain measure of excite-

ment as the time drew near. As Vie had observed, I

didn't really have a lot of experience with dating.

Specifically, this was going to be my first date . . .

ever. Now don't get me wrong, I knew a fair

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Robert Asprin

number of women, but I had met all of them in

the course of business. Before I met Aahz, I had

been living alone with Garkin in a shack in the

woods . . . which is not the greatest way to

meet females. Since tying on with Aahz, my life

had gotten noticeably more exciting, but there

was little time for a social life. What off time I did

have was usually spent with other members of

our crew, and while they were good company for

the most part, it left little room for outsiders.

Consequently, the idea of spending an entire

evening with a strange woman just to be spend-

ing time together was a real treat . . . and more

than a little scary.

The one variable in the whole situation I could

control was me, and I was bound and determined

that if anything went wrong with the evening, it

wouldn't be because I hadn't put enough effort

into my preparations. Money was easy. While I

wasn't sure where we would be going, I figured

that two or three hundred in gold would cover our

expenses . . . though I made a note to bring

along my credit card from Perv just to be on the

safe side.

Wardrobe was another matter. After changing

my outfit completely a dozen times, I finally

settled on the same clothes I had worn when I had

my match with the Sen-Sen Ante Kid . . . the

dark maroon open-necked shirt with the charcoal

gray slacks and vest. I figured that if it had

impressed people on Deva, it should be impres-

sive no matter where we went. Of course, on

Deva, I had also been traveling with an entourage

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LIFE

87

of bodyguards and assistants . . . not to mention

a quarter of a million in gold.

I was just considering changing my clothes one

more time, when there was a knock at the door.

This surprised me a little, as I had somehow

expected that my date would simply appear in the

room. As soon as that thought occurred to me,

however, it also occurred to me that there had

been an excellent chance that she would have

appeared while I was changing outfits. Slightly

relieved at having escaped a potentially embar-

rassing situation, I opened the door.

"Hi, Skeeve," Bunny said, sweeping past me

into the room. "I thought I'd stop by and brief you

on the latest budget developments and maybe do

dinner and . . . Hey! You look nice."

Needless to say, this was an unexpected . . .

and unpleasant . . . surprise.

"Urn . . . Actually I was just getting ready to

go out." I managed politely.

She took it well. In fact, she seemed to brighten

at the news.

"That's a great idea!" she said. "Hang on a few

and I'll duck back to my room and change and we

can go out together!"

"Urn . . . Bunny . . ."

"To tell you the truth, I've been starting to go

up the walls a little myself. It'll be wonderful to

get out for a while, especially with you, and ..."

"BUNNY!"

She stopped and cocked her head at me.

"What is it, Skeeve?"

"I ... actually . . . well . . . I have a date."

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Robert Asprin

The words hung in the air as she stared at me

with eyes that had suddenly gotten very large.

"Oh," she said finally in a small voice. "I ...

Then I guess I'd better be moving along."

"Wait a minute, Bunny," I said, catching her as

she started for the door. "Maybe tomorrow we

can . . ."

There was a soft bampf in the room behind us,

and we turned to discover that my date had

arrived ... at least, I assumed she was my date.

I could think of no other reason for a creature

appearing in my room that looked like that.

She was pale, even paler than Queen Hemlock,

which only served to accent the deep red lipstick

she wore. She was short, though her hair nearly

made up for it as it rose from the top of her head

in a thick dark wave before cascading all the way

down her back well past her rump. Her body was

heart-stopping, abundant to the point of exaggera-

tion on top, narrowing to an unbelievably tiny

waist before flaring into her tidy hips. It would

have been noticeable in any situation, but her

dress made sure it wouldn't be overlooked.

It was sparkly black, and hugged her curves like

it was tattooed on. The neckline plunged daringly

nearly to her navel, actually lower than the slit up

the side of her dress, which in turn displayed one

of the shapeliest legs it's ever been my privilege to

view first hand. To say the least it was a revealing

outfit, and most of what it revealed was delec-

table.

About the only thing that wasn't visible or

easily imaginable were her eyes, which were

hidden by a pair of cats-eye sunglasses. As if in

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

89

response to my thoughts, she removed them with

a careless, graceful motion, setting them carefully

atop her hairdo. I would have watched the action

more carefully if I hadn't been staring at her eyes.

It wasn't the heavy purple eye shadow that held

my attention, it was the fact that the whites of

her eyes were, in fact, blood red.

My date was a vampire.

I guess I should have expected it. I mean, what

with Vie being a vampire, it was only predictable

that he would line me up with another vampire

for a date. It just hadn't been predicted by me!

"Hi!" the vision of loveliness smiled, showing a

pair of sharp canine teeth. "I'm Cassandra. You

must be Vic's friend."

"Good God!" Bunny said, the words escaping

from her in a gasp as she stared at my visitor.

"And who's this?" Cassandra said, sweeping

Bunny with a withering gaze. "The warm-up act?

You must be quite a tiger to book two dates, one

after the other ... or is she coming along with

us?"

"Cassandra, this is Bunny . . . my administra-

tive assistant," I intervened hastily. "We were

just going over some office matters."

This seemed to mollify Cassandra somewhat.

At least enough so that she stepped forward and

coiled around my arm, pressing close against me.

Very close.

"Well, don't wait up for him, Sugar," she said

with a wink. "I figure on keeping him up for a

long time ... if you get what I mean."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Chumley had once tried to describe something

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Robert Asprin

called "dry ice" to me. At the time, I had trouble

imagining something cold enough to burn. Bun-

ny's tone and manner as she spun on her heel and

marched out of the room went a long way toward

clarifying the concept for me. I might not be the

most perceptive person in all the dimensions

when it comes to women, but it didn't take a real

genius to realize that she didn't approve of my

choice of dates . . . even though I hadn't really

made the choice.

"Alone at last," Cassandra purred, pressing

even closer against me. "Tell me, Tiger, what are

your thoughts for the evening?"

As I said, I hadn't really settled on anything.

Still, I had an overwhelming urge to get this

particular bombshell out of the castle, or, at least,

out of my bedroom, and as far away from Bunny

as possible.

"I don't know," I said. "I was thinking of maybe

doing dinner or getting a couple of drinks and

kind of letting the evening take care of itself."

"Sounds good to me," my date declared, giving

a little shiver that seemed to take her entire body.

"Are there any good clubs on this dimension?"

It only took me a second to realize she was

talking about nightclubs, not the kind of club you

beat people across the head with. I DO catch on

eventually.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "My work doesn't

leave me much time to check out the nightlife."

"Hey! When it comes to nightlife, I'm your girl.

I know some GREAT places over on Limbo."

Limbo! The dimension of werewolves and vam-

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91

pires. I had only been there once, and the memory

wasn't all that pleasant.

"Urn, I'd rather not if you don't mind."

"Really? Why not?"

"Well ... if you must know, my dimension

traveling skills aren't all they could be," I said,

blurting out the first thing that came into my

mind. Actually, my ability to travel the dimen-

sions without the mechanical aid of a D-Hopper

was non-existent, but I saw no need to be too

honest.

"If that's the only hitch, no problem," Cassan-

dra said. "Just leave the driving to me, Tiger."

So saying, she hooked one arm in mine, did

something I couldn't see with her other hand,

and, before I had the chance to protest further, we

were there!

Now, for those of you who have never been

there (which, I assume, includes most of my

readers), Limbo isn't much of a dimension to look

at. That is, it's hard to see much of anything

because it's DARK. Now, I don't mean "dark," I

mean DARK!! Even when the sun is up, which

it currently wasn't, it doesn't push much light

through the perpetually overcast sky. Then, too, the

predominant color of the architecture, roads, etc.

is black, which does nothing toward brightening

up the landscape. That in itself might make

things look bleak, but when you added in the

decorative flourishes the place looked positively

grim.

Everywhere you looked there were gargoyles,

dragons, and snakes . . . stone ones, fortunately . ..

peering back at you from rooftops, balconies, and

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window ledges. Normally I don't mind such crea-

tures. Heck, as you know I have a dragon of my

own, and Gus is one of my best friends even though

he is a gargoyle. It should be noted, however, that

those individuals manage to maintain their rela-

tionship with me without constantly displaying

their teeth in bloodthirsty glee, a courtesy which

their stone counterparts here in Limbo did NOT

extend.

Then, too, there were the bats.

For every one of the aforementioned frightful

creatures, there must have been ten or twenty

bat decorations on display. They came in all

sizes, shapes, and poses, and seemed to have only

one characteristic in common . . . none of them

looked friendly. It was an unnerving reminder

that a goodly proportion of the dimension's inhab-

itants were vampires.

"Umm ... Is this Blut, by any chance?" I

said, ostensively studying the buildings around us

while, in actuality, sneaking sideways peeks at

Cassandra, trying to get another peek at her teeth.

"As a matter of fact, it is!" my date confirmed.

"Don't tell me you've heard of it?"

"Actually, I've been here before."

"Really? That's strange . . . but then again, Vie

did say that you were better traveled and informed

than most off-worlders." Cassandra seemed genu-

inely impressed. "So, what did you think of the

place?"

"I didn't really get to see much of it," I admit-

ted. "I was sort of here on business and didn't

have much time for socializing or sightseeing."

Again, this was a bit of an understatement. I

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

93

had been here trying to bust Aahz out of jail

before they executed him for murder. It occurred

to me, however, that it might not be wise to go

into too many details of my previous visit. Fortu-

nately, I needn't have worried.

"Well we can fix that right now," Cassandra

declared, grabbing my hand and pulling me along

behind her as she started off. "There's a little club

around the corner here that's all the rage cur-

rently. It's as good a place as any to start our

expedition."

"Wait a minute," I said, digging in my heels a

bit. "What about me? I mean, if I recall correctly,

off-worlders in general and humans specifically

aren't all that welcome here. In fact, don't most

vampires consider us humans to be monsters?"

"Oh, that's just the superstitious old fuddy-

duddies," my date insisted, continuing to tow me

along. "The kind of folks that hang out at the

clubs are pretty open-minded. You'll see."

Somehow, the phrase "pretty open-minded"

didn't suffice to calm all my fears. I was all too

aware that I was a long way from home with no

independent means to get back there if anything

went wrong and I got separated from my date. Just

to be on the safe side, I started casting about for

force lines . . . the energy source I was trained to

tap into for my magik. Limbo was notoriously

short on them, which had caused me no small

amount of problems during my last visit, and if I

was going to have to do anything on "reserve

power," I'd be wise to start mustering it well in

advance of any trouble.

94    Robert Asprin

"There it is now!" Cassandra chirped, inter-

rupting my concentration.

The place she had selected was easy to spot. It

had a line of customers out front that stretched to

the corner and around it. It also, however, had a

strong force line running right over it, which

made me much more willing to agree to it as a

relaxing stop on our tour.

"Darn it!" my date said, slowing slightly. "I

was afraid this would happen, what with us

showing up so late atid all. How are you fixed for

cash, Tiger? A little palm grease could cut our

wait time a bit."

"Well, all I have is a couple hundred in gold," I

said hesitantly. "If that's not enough, we can

always ..."

"Whoa!" Cassandra stopped in her tracks. "Did

you say a couple hundred!"

"That's right," I nodded, letting go of her hand

to reach for my belt pouch. "I wasn't sure how

much ..."

"Don't show it around here!" my date gasped,

quickly stopping my hand with her own. "Geez!

Do you want to get mugged? What are you doing,

carrying your whole bankroll around with you?

Don't you believe in banks?"

"Sure I do," I said, a little hurt. "This is just

mad money. I wasn't sure how much this evening

was going to cost, so I brought a long a couple

hundred . . . that and a credit card."

"Really?" she said, obviously impressed. "How

much do you . . . never mind. None of my busi-

ness. Vie never said you were rich, though. I've

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

95

never even known someone with a credit card

before."

I had only recently acquired my credit card

while looking for Aahz on Perv, and hadn't had a

chance to use it yet. (Frankly, except for a few

dimension travelers like my colleagues and me, I

don't think anyone on my home dimension of

Klah has even heard of a credit card. I know I

hadn't until I hit Perv.) If anything, I had tended to

down play it, since it seemed to upset Aahz. My

partner wasn't here, though, and my impression-

able date was. If nothing else over the years, I've

learned to go with the flow.

"Oh, it comes in handy," I said loftily, produc-

ing the item under discussion with a flourish.

"Keeps me from having to carry too much cash,

you know."

The card disappeared from my fingertips as

Cassandra seized it and gaped at it in open awe.

"A solid gold card!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Wow! You sure know how to show a girl a good

time, Tiger. Are we going to party tonight!!"

Before I could stop her, she had grabbed my

hand again and plunged into the crowd, holding

the card aloft like a banner.

"Excuse us! Coming through!"

The people in line who we were elbowing our

way past didn't like it. A few went so far as to bare

their fangs in annoyance. The card seemed to

have some magik effect, though, because, after

one glance, they all stepped back and cleared a

passage for us ... or, rather, for Cassandra. I just

trailed along in her wake.

There was a velvet rope barring the door, and a

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Robert Asprin

big guy beside it whose only function seemed to

be to admit people a few at a time as others

left . . . that, and be intimidating. I mean, he was

BIG . . . and that's coming from someone who

has his own bodyguards. As soon as he spotted the

card, however, he snatched the rope from the

door, shoving a few of the line people back to open

a path for us, and actually tried to twist his

features into a smile as we swept past.

It was occurring to me that there might be more

to this credit card business than I imagined. This

didn't seem to be the time to ask, however, and a

moment later we were in the club . . . and I lost

all ability to think of anything else.

Chapter Nine;

"I hue the mghtiife."

V. DRACULA

I DON'T KNOW what I had expected for the interior

of a vampire nightclub, probably because it never

occurred to me that I might visit one someday,

but this definitely wasn't it.

First and foremost, it was bright. I don't mean

bright, I mean BRIGHT!!!

The lighting level was so intense the glare was

almost blinding, particularly coming in from the

darkness outside. Even squinting, it was so bright

I could barely make out the features of the room

and even had to grope a bit to keep from tripping

over things.

"Whatdaya think?" Cassandra shouted over

the music as she clung to my arm.

"Hard to tell!" I called back. "It's kinda bright!"

"I know! Isn't it great!" she said, flashing a

smile that shone through the light. "Real spooky,

isn't it?"

97

98

Robert Asprin

For some reason, that made sense. In fact,

suddenly the whole club did. Humans were pri-

marily daylight lovers. When they wanted to feel

daring or be scared, they went to dark places.

Vampires on the other hand, normally tended to

shun the light. As such, I supposed it was only

natural that a place lit up like a flare would be

scary to them.

"Oh, it's not too bad . . . once your eyes adjust

to it," I said loftily.

It was the truth. My eyes were slowly getting

used to the glare, allowing me to look around the

place.

What it lacked in size, it made up for in noise

and customers.

What seemed like hundreds of people were

packed around an expanse of tiny tables, each

table having a small umbrella to provide limited

relief from the bright lights like . . . well, like

candles on tables in a dark room back where I

came from.

The only portion that seemed even more

crowded than the tables was a small space I took

for a dance floor. I made this assumption based on

the fact that the customers packed in there cheek

to jowl were all moving rhythmically in unison to

the music which was blaring through the place at

a volume level to match the Big Game. I couldn't

see a source for the music, unless it was from the

one weird-looking guy who was ensconced be-

hind a table overlooking the dance floor. Every so

often, there would be a break in the music and he

would shout something, whereupon the crowd

would shout back at him and a new tune would

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

99

start. From this, I guessed that he had something

to do with the entertainment, but exactly what I

couldn't be sure, as there was no sign of an

instrument. Just stacks and stacks of shiny discs

he kept feeding into a machine in front of him.

The music itself was beyond description . . .

unless that description is "loud." Mostly, it

sounded like jarring crashes of noise repeated

endlessly to a driving beat. I mentioned that there

would be pauses and new tunes, but in truth they

seemed remarkably alike to me. I mean, whether

one is repeatedly hitting a sackful of tin cans or a

sackful of pots and kettles, or alternating between

the two, the overall sound effect is the same for

all intents and purposes. The crowd seemed to

enjoy it, though, or, at least, it was sufficient to

keep them cheering and gyrating with apparently

limitless energy.

With all the noise and activity that was going

on, I was almost surprised that I managed to

notice the decorations hanging on the walls. Per-

haps they caught my eye with their sheer incon-

gruity.

There were strings of garlic—fake, to look at

it—as well as vials of water and strings of beads,

all marked with various religious symbols. Not

exactly what I'd pick to have around while I was

trying to relax ... if I were a vampire. Then

again, the objective of the place didn't seem to be

to provide relaxation.

"Interesting decor," I said, still looking at the

stuff on the walls. "What's the name of this place,

anyway?"

"It's called The Wooden Stake," Cassandra sup-

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Robert Asprin

plied, giving a mock shudder as she hugged my

arm even tighter. "Isn't it a gas?"

"Uh-huh," I managed noncommittally.

Actually, her little shudder was quite distract-

ing . . . particularly crowded as close to me as

she was.

"Quite a crowd here," I added, forcibly pulling

my eyes away from her to look around again.

"I told you it was the hottest club around," she

said, giving my arm a small shake. "Look. Every-

body's here."

If it seems that I've been dwelling on the

physical description of the club, it's because

I've been hesitant to tackle the job of describing

the patrons. They were like something out of

your worse nightmare . . . literally.

As might be expected, there were vampires. If

their red eyes and flashy clothes didn't give them

away, there was always the minor detail that they

tended to float above the dance floor and along

the ceiling to get away from the crush of the other

dancers.

The list didn't stop there, however.

There were 'weres' around. Not just werewolves,

but were-tigers, were-bears, and were-snakes as

well. There were also mummies, lizard men, a

night-shambler or two, and even a couple ghosts.

At least, you could see through them so I sup-

posed they were ghosts.

Just your average, run of the mill, neighborhood

bar crowd ... if your neighborhood happens to

be the intersection of half a dozen horror movies.

"I don't see the Woof Writers anywhere," I said,

just to be cantankerous. I didn't know many

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

101

people here on Limbo, but the few I knew weren't

here, so obviously everybody wasn't in atten-

dance.

"Oh, Idnew is probably around somewhere,"

Cassandra said absently, scanning the crowd.

"Don't expect to see Drachir, though. He's usu-

ally holed up somewhere quieter talking business

or . . ."

She broke off suddenly and looked at me sharply.

"You know the Woof Writers?"

"Like I said/' I smiled, squeezing her arm for a

change. "I've been on Limbo before."

"Look! There's a table!" She grabbed my wrist

and took off through the crowd, towing me along

behind. If I had been hoping to impress her, I'd

have to work more on my timing.

We barely beat out a vampire couple for the

table, who favored us with dark glares before con-

tinuing their search. I watched their departure

with a vague sense of relief. I really didn't want to

get into a fight tonight . . . and especially not

here in The Wooden Stake. I hadn't felt so much

like an outsider since I returned from Perv.

The view from our table was notably much

more restricted than the one we had when we

were standing, due to the crush of people around

us. The only real advantage to having a table, that

I could see, was that we didn't have to hold our

drinks . . . except we didn't have any drinks.

"What'll you have?"

For a moment, I thought the question had come

telepathically in answer to my thoughts. Then I

realized there was a ghost hovering next to me,

nearly translucent, but carrying a solid enough

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Robert Asprin

tray. I supposed it made sense. A ghost to pass

ethereally through the crowds, and a solid tray to

carry the drinks on. Maybe if other bars and

restaurants used the same idea, service would be

faster.

"Hi, Marley. I'll have a Bloody Mary," Cassan-

dra said. "What do you want, Tiger?"

I'll spare you the image which my mind came

up with to associate with the name of her ordered

drink. While I knew from my earlier visits that

vampires don't necessarily drink human blood

exclusively, the idea of imbibing any kind of

blood was pretty low on my list for taste treats.

"Urn . . . What all do they have?" I stalled.

"I'm pretty much just used to wine."

"Don't worry, it's a full service bar," she in-

formed me brightly. "They've got pretty much . . .

Oh! I get it!"

She threw back her head and laughed, then gave

my arm a playful slap.

"Don't get uptight, Tiger. They do have drinks

for off-worlders."

Again I was relieved, but at the same time, I

wasn't wild about being laughed at. I seemed to be

losing ground in the "impress your date" depart-

ment.

"No, I'm serious, Cassandra/' I said. "I really

don't have much experience drinking except for

wine."

"Hey. No problem. I'll order for you."

That wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but she

had turned to our waiter before I could stop her.

"Bring him a Bloody Mary, too, Marley. A

regular one, not the local version," she said. "Oh,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

103

and we'll be running a tab. Here's his credit card

so you can make an imprint."

The waiter accepted the card without batting

an eye . . . apparently waiters are harder to im-

press with credit cards than doormen . . . and

moved off through the crowd. And I do mean

through the crowd.

Truth to tell, I had been so busy ogling the club,

I had completely forgotten that Cassandra still

had my card until she handed it to the waiter.

Inexperienced though I was with credit cards, I

was aware that losing track of one's card is not the

wisest idea, and I resolved to reclaim it when the

waiter brought it back.

In the meantime, there was one minor matter I

wanted to take care of ... to wit, my outfit.

As you may recall, I spent a certain amount of

time choosing my ensemble for this date, but that

was before I knew we were headed for Limbo. The

clothes I was wearing were fine for Klah, or even

Deva, but here on Limbo they were conservative

to the point of looking drab. Normally, I wouldn't

squander my magik on something so trivial, par-

ticularly on Limbo, but I had already scouted a

strong force line directly over the club and . . .

what the heck, I was still trying to impress my

date.

At the moment, she was busy chatting with

some friends of hers who had stopped by the

table, so I figured now was as good a time as any.

Closing my eyes, I went to work on my outfit

courtesy of my good old trusty standby . . . the

disguise spell.

Since I wasn't really all that dissatisfied with

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Robert Asprin

the outfit I was wearing, I didn't go for any radical

change, just a few adjustments here and there. I

deepened the neckline on both my shirt and vest

to show a bit more of my chest . . . such as it

was. Then I lengthened the points of my collar

and added a bit more drape to the sleeves to be

more in line with some of the more billowy

outfits the other men in the club were wearing.

As a final touch, I added a sparkly undertone to my

shirt so that it would match my date's dress . . .

in texture, at least.

Like I said, not much of a change. Just enough

so I wouldn't look dowdy sitting in a club with

flashy vampires. I couldn't see the changes my-

self, of course, which is one of the few drawbacks

of a disguise spell, but I had enough confidence in

this, one of my oldest spells, to know it was

effective. I knew my date would be able to see the

changes. The only question was, would she no-

tice?

I needn't have worried.

Not that she noticed right away, mind you.

Cassandra's friends had moved on, but she was

still quite busy waving and calling to others in the

crowd. Apparently she was quite a popular young

lady. Not surprising, really.

The fun started when the waiter brought our

drinks to the table. Setting them them carefully

in front of us, he leaned over to speak directly into

my ear.

"This first round is compliments of the man-

ager, sir," he said, with notably more deference

than he had shown when taking the order origi-

nally. "He asked me to tell you he's honored

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

105

you're visiting our club, and hopes you enjoy it

enough to make it a regular stop."

"What?" I said, genuinely taken aback. "I don't

understand."

"/ said, the manager ..." the ghost started to

repeat, but I cut him off.

"No. I mean, why is he buying us a round of

drinks?"

"He saw your name on the credit card," the

ghost said, handing the item in question back to

me. "I didn't recognize you on sight, myself . . .

I hope you aren't offended."

"No. It's . . . no. No offense," I managed, still

trying to figure out what was going on.

"What was that all about?" Cassandra said,

leaning close again. She had noticed my conver-

sation with the waiter, but hadn't been able to

hear the exact words over the music.

"It's nothing," I explained. "The manager just

bought us a round of drinks."

"Really?" she frowned. "That's odd. They don't

usually do that here ... at least, not for the first

round. I wonder who's on duty?"

She started craning her neck trying to get a

clear look at the bar. While she was doing that, I

turned my attention to our drinks.

They appeared innocent enough. Basically an

opaque red fluid over ice cubes with some kind of

greenery sticking out of it. Hers was a darker red

than mine, but aside from that, they looked the

same. Cautiously, I took a sip ... and discov-

ered, to my relief, it tasted sort of like tomato

juice.

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Robert Asprin

"Hey! This is pretty good," I declared. "What's

in it, anyway?"

"Hmm?" Cassandra said, turning her attention

to me again. "Oh. Yours is just tomato juice and

vodka."

I didn't know what vodka was, but tomato juice

I could handle. The first sip had reminded me

how thirsty I was after all our running around, so

I downed most of the glass with my next swallow.

"Hey! Take it easy, Tiger," my date admon-

ished. "Those things can pack a wallop if you

aren't used to them . . . and it can leave a stain,

so don't drip any on your ..."

She stopped in mid-sentence and stared at my

outfit.

"Say. Weren't you wearing a different shirt

before?"

"Oh, it's the same shirt," I said, as casually as I

could. "I just changed it a little bit. I think this is

more appropriate for this place, don't you?"

"But how could you ... I get it! Magik!"

Her reaction was everything 1 could have hoped

for ... except she wasn't done.

"Wait a minute. You're a friend of Vic's from

Klah, and you know magik . . . right?" she said,

eagerly. "Do you know a magician there named

the Great Skeeve?"

This really surprised me, but the pieces were

starting to fall into place. The picture was incred-

ible, but I managed to keep my cool.

"As a matter of fact, I know him rather well," I

said with a faint smile.

"Whatdaya know!" Cassandra declared, slap-

ping the table with her palm. "I thought Vie was

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

107

just trying to impress me when he said he knew

him. Tell me, what's he like?"

That one threw me.

"Vie? He's a nice enough guy. I thought you . . ."

"No, silly. I mean Skeeve! What's he like as a

person?"

This was just getting better.

"Oh, he's a lot like me," I said. "I'm just

surprised you heard of him."

"You've got to be kidding!" she declared, rolling

her eyes. "He's about the hottest thing going as

far as magicians go. Everybody's talking about

him. You know, he engineered a jailbreak right

here on Limbo!"

"I think I heard about that," I admitted.

"And just a while back, he got barred from the

Dimension of Perv. Can you believe that? Perv?"

"It was a bum rap," I grimaced.

"So you really do know him! Come on, tell me

more. When you say he's like you, do you mean

he's young or what?"

As much fun as this was, I figured it was time to

stop before it got out of hand.

"Cassandra," I said, carefully. "Watch my lips.

He's a lot like me. Get it?"

She frowned, then shook her head.

"No. I don't. You make it sound like you're

twins or something. Either that, or . . ."

She suddenly stared at me, her eye's widening.

"Oh, no," she gasped. "You don't mean

you're . . ."

I held my credit card up in front of her so she

could read the name on it, then favored her with

my widest smile.

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

109

"Oh no!" she shrieked, loud enough to draw

attention from the neighboring tables. "You're

him!!! Why didn't you tell me!!"

"You never asked," I shrugged. "Actually, I

thought that Vie ..."

But by that time, I was speaking to her

back ... or, to be more specific, her rump. She

was on her feet calling triumphantly to the other

patrons.

"Hey, everybody! You know who this is! This is

SKEEVE THE GREAT!!!"

Now, at different times, various people have

tried to tell me that I was building a rep through

the dimensions. Most recently, Bunny had brought

it up when explaining how she set the prices for

the services of M.Y.T.H. Inc. I guess I was sort of

aware of it, and had even kind of accepted it, but

for the most part I didn't really see where it made

any difference in my normal day to day life.

Sitting in The Wooden Stake in the dimension of

Limbo, however, was not part of my normal day

to day life . . . and neither was the reaction of

the crowd when it learned who r was.

At first, heads turned, then drew together in

whispered conversation as the whole room stared

at me as if I had grown another head.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you, Skeeve . . . can

I call you Skeeve? . . . but I'm just so excited."

Cassandra was back in her seat, focusing all her

attention on me. "Imagine, me out on a date with

the Great Skeeve!"

"Umm . . . that's all right, Cassandra," I as-

sured her, but now my attention was elsewhere.

Over her shoulder . . . heck, from all around

us ... I could see people starting to make their

way towards our table. Now, as I've mentioned,

I've been chased by mobs before, but never start-

ing surrounded! Still, they didn't look particularly

hostile or angry. If anything, they all seemed

to have exaggerated smiles on their faces . . .

which considering the array of teeth in the room,

wasn't all that pleasant to behold.

"Excuse me, Cassandra," I said, eyeing the

incoming people, "but I drink ... I mean, I

think we're about to have company."

The slip of the tongue was because I had just

tried to take another sip of my drink, only to find

the glass was empty except for the ice cubes . . .

strange, because I didn't remember finishing it.

Then the first person reached the table.

It was a male vampire, all decked out in a fine

set of evening clothes which he wore with envi-

able grace.

"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Skeeve," he

said with a smile, "but I wanted to shake your

hand. Always wanted to meet you, but never

thought I'd get the opportunity."

"Uh, sure," I said, but he had already seized my

hand and was pumping away.

"I was wondering . . . could I have your auto-

graph?" a young lady said, trying to edge around

the first gentleman.

"What? I suppose so ..."

Unfortunately I couldn't seem to get my hand

loose from the vampire who was still shaking it,

though he seemed to be looking elsewhere at the

moment.

"Hey!  Waiter!" I heard him call.   "Another

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Robert Asprin

round of whatever Mr. Skeeve and his guest are

drinking . . . and put it on my tab!"

"Umm . . . thank you," I said, extracting my

hand and turning to the girl who had asked for an

autograph. "Do you have a pen?"

"Gosh no!" she exclaimed. "But I'll go get one.

Don't go away, I'll be right back."

I really didn't know what to think. I had been

nervous about coming back to Limbo because of

my near criminal activities during my last visit,

and here they were treating me like a celebrity!

"Mr. Skeeve. If you don't mind. It's for my little

girl."

This last was from a were-tiger who thrust both

paper and pen at me. Fortunately, after the last

visitor, I knew what he was after, and hastily

scribbled my signature on the page.

Our ghost waiter materialized through the grow-

ing crowd and set our drinks on the table . . .

except there were three of them! From the color,

one for Cassandra, and two for me.

"What's with the extra?" I said.

"Compliments of the table over there, sir," the

waiter said, pointing somewhere off to my left.

I tried to look where he was indicating, and

almost put my nose in the navel of another young

lady who was crowding up beside me. Actually,

she was one of three, any one of whom would be

eye-catching under normal circumstances, but

were just part of the crowd here.

"Where are you going from here, Mr. Skeeve?"

the taller one purred. "There's going to be a party

at our place later if you want to come by."

"Wipe your chin, Sweetheart," Cassandra smiled,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

111

slipping her arm around my shoulder. "He's my

date . . . and I plan to keep him busy all night."

That had an intriguing sound to it, but just then

someone else started tugging on my sleeve.

"Excuse me, Mr. Skeeve," said an awesome set

of teeth from a point too close to focus on. "I was

wondering if I might interview you sometime at

your convenience?"

"Well . . . I'm kind of busy right now, "I hedged,

trying to lean back far enough to get a better look at

my questioner . . . which unfortunately pressed

the back of my head up against one of the party

girls.

"Oh, I don't mean now," the teeth said, match-

ing my retreat with a move forward so I still

couldn't see what or who was talking. "If you can

stop by our table over there later, we'll set up an

appointment. I'll have a drink waiting for you . . .

Bloody Mary, right?"

"Right. I mean, okay. But . . ."

But by that time the person was gone. I only

hoped that they'd recognize me if I got into the

general vicinity. Right now, my attention was

caught by the fact that whoever I was pressing

backward against was now pressing forward against

the back of my head ... far too insistently for it to

be an accident.

"Say, Skeeve," Cassandra said, giving me an

excuse to break contact, which I took, pausing

only to take a gulp of my drink before I leaned

toward her.

"Yes, Cassandra?"

"If you don't mind, can we head out of here

after you finish your drink? There are a couple

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Robert Asprin

other places I'd like to hit tonight . . . you know,

to show you off a little?"

"No problem/' I said, "but it might take a

while."

Somehow, during the last flurry of discussions,

my two drinks had multiplied into four.

"Oh, I'm in no hurry/' she said, giving me a

quick kiss. "I know you've got to deal with some

of these people now that they know who you are.

It goes with the notoriety. It may be old hat to

you, but I'm having a blast!"

To say the least, it wasn't old hat to me. Maybe

if it was, I would have handled it better.

I remember signing my name a lot ... and

some more drinks being delivered . . . and kiss-

ing Cassandra . . . and, I think, another club . . .

or two other clubs . . . and more drinks . . .

Chapter Ten:

"Happiness is defined by one's capac-

ity for enjoyment."

BACCHUS

OPENING MY EYES, I suffered a brief moment of

disorientation, then things started swimming into

focus.

I was in my room ... in my own bed, to be

specific, though the covers seemed to be twisted

and disheveled. I was naked under the covers,

though I had no recollection of getting undressed.

I assumed it was morning, as there was sunlight

streaming through the window. In short, every-

thing looked normal.

So why did I feel there was something wrong?

I was lying on my side, and I realized my

sinuses had flooded, making it impossible to

breathe out of the nostril on the "downhill" side.

In an effort to alleviate this situation, I rolled over

and . . .

It hit me!!!

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Robert Asprin

A pounding headache ... a nauseous stom-

ach . . . the works!

There had been times in the past when I had

gotten sick, but nothing like this! At first I was

afraid I was going to die. Then I was afraid I'd live.

Misery such as I was feeling should have a finite

end.

Groaning slightly and burrowing into my pil-

low, I tried to gather my thoughts.

What was going on here? What happened to

make me feel . . .

Suddenly, the memory of the previous night

flashed across my mind ... or, at least, the

beginning of it.

The blind date . . . The Wooden Stake . . .

the admiring crowds . . . Cassandra!

I sat bolt upright and . . .

Big mistake. BIG mistake.

Every pain and queasiness I had been feeling

slammed into me threefold. With a moan, I fell

limply back onto my pillow heedless of the new

unpleasant sensations this move caused. You could

only feel so miserable, and I had bottomed out.

Nothing could make me feel worse. Forget any

effort at rational thought. I was just going to lie

there until my head cleared or I died . . . which-

ever came first.

A knock sounded at the door.

Disoriented as I was, I had no difficulty decid-

ing what to do: I was going to ignore it. I was

certainly in no condition to see or talk to anyone!

The knock came again, a little louder this time.

"Skeeve? Are you awake?"

It was Bunny's voice. From what I could recall

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

115

of the beginning of last evening, I really didn't

want to talk to her right now. All I needed to

make my misery complete was to have her carp-

ing on me about my taste in dates.

"Go away!" I called, not even bothering to try

to make it sound polite.

As soon as I uttered the words, however, I

realized I would have been better off just staying

quiet. Not only had the effort increased the pound-

ing in my head, I had inadvertently let her know I

was awake.

As if in response to my afterthought, the door

opened and Bunny came in, a big tray of food in

her hands.

"When I didn't see you at breakfast or at lunch,

I figured you might be a little worse for wear from

last night," she said crisply, setting the tray on

my desk. "I had the kitchen put together a tray for

you to help you back to the land of the living."

Food was definitely low on my list of priorities

at the moment. If anything, I was more concerned

with things going the other way through my

digestive tract. It did however, suddenly occur to

me that I was thirsty. In fact, VERY thirsty.

"Have you got any juice on that tray?" I man-

aged weakly, not wanting to sit up far enough to

look myself.

"Do you want orange or tomato?"

The mention of tomato juice brought memories

of last night's Bloody Marys to mind, and my

stomach did a slow roll and dip to the left.

"Orange will be fine," I said through gritted

teeth, trying hard to talk, keep my mouth shut,

and swallow at the same time.

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Robert Asprin

She favored me with a speculative glance.

"Well, it wasn't Screwdrivers or Mimosas."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Orange juice, coming up."

I could have done without the "coming up"

comment, but the juice tasted fine. I downed it in

two long swallows. Strangely enough, it left me

even more thirsty. Not that the juice wasn't a

welcome input of cool moisture, but it made me

realize just how dehydrated I was.

"Any more of that?" I said hopefully.

"Got a whole pitcher here," Bunny replied,

gesturing toward the tray. "I had a hunch you

were going to need more than one glass. Take it

slow, though. I don't think it would be a good idea

to gulp down a lot of cold liquid just yet."

I resisted the urge to grab the entire pitcher

from her, and instead simply held out my glass for

a refill. With a major effort, I did my best to

comply with her suggestion and sipped it slowly.

It lasted a little longer that way, and did seem to

have a greater effect.

"That's better," she said, refilling the glass

again without being asked. "So. Did you have a

good time last night?"

I paused in mid-sip, trying to force my brain to

function.

"To be honest with you, Bunny, I don't know,"

I admitted at last.

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"What I remember was okay," I said, "but after

a certain point in the evening, everything's a

blank. I'm not even sure exactly when that point

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

117

was, for that matter. Things are a bit jumbled in

my mind still."

"I see."

For a moment, Bunny seemed about to say

something else, but instead she pursed her lips

and wandered over to the window where she

stood staring out.

My head was clearing now, to a point where I

felt almost alive, and I decided it was time to try

to set things right.

"Um . . . Bunny? About last night . . . I'm

sorry I left you standing like that, but Vie had set

up the date for me, and there was no real way to

back out gracefully."

"Of course, the fact that she was quite a dish

had nothing to do with it," Bunny commented

with a grimace.

"Well ..."

"Don't worry about it, Skeeve," she said quickly,

waving off my reply. "That's not what's bothering

me, anyway."

"What is?"

She turned to face me, leaning back on the

windowsill.

"It's the same thing that's been bothering me

ever since I arrived for this assignment," she said.

"I haven't wanted to say anything, because it's

really none of my business. But if what you say

about last night is true ..."

She broke off, biting her lip slightly.

"Go on," I said.

"Well . . . Simply put, I think you're develop-

ing a drinking problem."

That one caught me off guard. I had been half

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Robert Asprin

expecting her to make some comment about how

little I was helping on the kingdom's finances, or

even the parade of women I seemed to be sud-

denly confronted with. It had never occurred to

me that she might be taking affront at my per-

sonal habits.

"I . . .1 don't know what to say, Bunny. I

mean, sure, I drink. But everybody drinks a little

from time to time."

"A little?"

She came off the windowsill in one easy motion

and came to perch on the edge of my bed.

"Skeeve, every time I see you lately you've got

a goblet of wine in your hand. It's gotten so that

your idea of saying 'Hello' to someone is to offer

them a drink."

I was really confused now. When she first

mentioned my drinking, my immediate reaction

was that she was being an alarmist. The more she

talked, however, the more I found myself wonder-

ing if she might have a point.

"That's just being hospitable," I said, stalling

for time to think.

"Not when you're making the offer first thing

in the morning," she snapped. "Definitely not

when you go ahead and have a drink yourself,

whether they join you or not."

"Aahz drinks," I countered, starting to feel

defensive. "He says the water on most dimen-

sions isn't to be trusted."

"This is your home dimension, Skeeve. You

should be used to the water here. Besides, Aahz is

a Pervect. His whole metabolism is different from

yours. He can handle drinking."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

119

"And I can't. Is that what you're trying to say?"

The misery I had been feeling since I awoke was

now taking the form of anger and annoyance.

"Check me on this," she said. "From what I've

heard, during your recent trip to Perv, you got into

a fight didn't you? After you'd been drinking?"

"Well . . . Yes. But I've been in fights before."

"From what I hear, if Kalvin, the Djinn, hadn't

sobered you up, you might not have survived this

one. True?"

She had a point there. The situation had been a

bit hairy. I had to admit that my odds of surviving

the brawl would have gone way down if I hadn't

been jerked back to sobriety by Kalvin's spell.

I nodded my agreement.

"Then there's last night," she continued. "You

really wanted to make a good impression on

someone. You dressed up in one of your spiffiest

outfits, probably dropped a fair hunk of change,

and then what? From the sounds of it, you got

carried away with the drinking until you can't

even remember what happened. You don't even

know what went on, much less whether or not

your date had a good time. That doesn't sound

like you ... at least, the you that you'd like

people to remember."

I was starting to feel really low, and not just from

the aftereffects of the night before. I had always

thought my drinking was a harmless diversion . . .

or, more lately, a way to ease the pressures of the

problems confronting me. It had never occurred to

me how it might look to others. Now that I was

thinking about it, the picture wasn't very pleasant.

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Robert Asprin

Unfortunately, I was still a little reluctant to admit

that to Bunny.

"One of the things I do remember about last

night is that people kept buying me drinks," I said

defensively. "It kind of caught me by surprise, and

I thought it would be rude to refuse."

"Even if you have to accept drinks to be social,

there's nothing that says what you drink has to be

alcoholic," Bunny shot back. "There are other

things to drink, you know. You could always just

have a soft drink or some fruit juice."

Suddenly, I was very tired. Between my hang-

over and the new thoughts that had been thrust

upon me, what little energy I had when I awoke

was now depleted.

"Bunny," I said, "I'm really not up to arguing

with you right now. You've raised some interest-

ing points, and I appreciate your bringing them to

my attention. Give me some time to think about

them. Okay? At the moment, all I want to do is

curl up and die for a while."

To her credit, Bunny didn't continue to push

her case. Instead, she became extremely solici-

tous.

"I'm sorry, Skeeve," she said, laying a hand on

my arm. "I didn't mean to jump you like that

while you were still drying out. Is there anything

I can get you? A cold washrag, maybe?"

Actually, that sounded like a wonderful idea.

"If you would, please. I'd really appreciate it."

She hopped off the bed and made for the wash-

stand while I tried to find a more comfortable

position.

After rearranging the pillows, I glanced over to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

121

see what was keeping her, only to find her stand-

ing stock still, staring at the wall.

"Bunny? Is there something wrong?" I called.

"I guess I was wrong," she said in a strange

tone, still staring at the wall.

"How's that?"

"When I said you probably left a bad impression

on your date ... I think I should have kept my

mouth shut."

"What makes you say that?"

"I take it you haven't seen this."

She gestured at the wall over the washstand. I

squinted slightly and focused my still-bleary eyes

on the spot she was indicating.

Written on the wall, in bright red lipstick, was

a note.

Skeeve,

Sorry to go, but I didn't want to wake you.

Last night was magic. You're as good as your rep.

Let me know when you want to play some more.

Cassandra

I found myself smirking as I read the note.

"Well, I guess she wasn't too upset with my

drinking. Eh, Bunny?"

There was no answer.

"Bunny?"

I tore my eyes away from the message and

glanced around the room. The tray was still there,

but Bunny wasn't. With the door standing open,

the only logical conclusion was that she had left

without saying a word.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so smug anymore.

Chapter Eleven:

"// labor and management communi-

cated better, there would be fewer

terminations."

J. HOFFA

"Hi, BUTTERCUP, How's it going, fellah?"

The war unicorn raised his head and stared at

me for a moment, then went back to eating from

his feed bin.

"Com'on, fellah. You know me," I urged.

The unicorn continued eating, ignoring me

completely.

"Don't worry, Boss/' came a squeaky voice

from behind me. "Unicorns are like that."

I didn't have to look to see who the voice

belonged to, but turned to face my bodyguard

anyway.

"Hi, Nunzio," I said. "What was that about

unicorns?"

"They're temperamental," he explained with a

shrug. "War unicorns like Buttercup are no excep-

tion. He's just giving you a rough time because

you haven't been visiting him much."

123

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Robert Asprln

One of the assorted things I had learned about

Nunzio's past was that at one time he had been an

animal trainer, so I tended to believe him. I was a

little disappointed, however. I had been hoping

that Buttercup's reaction to me would provide a

confirmation as to what did or didn't happen

between Cassandra and me the night before, but

it seemed there were other, more rational, pos-

sible reasons for his standoffishness.

Of course, fast on the heels of my disappoint-

ment came a surge of guilt. I had been neglecting

my pets badly . . . along with a lot of other

things.

"That reminds me, Nunzio," I said, eager to

shift the guilt, "how are you doing with Gleep?"

My bodyguard frowned and wiped a massive

hand across his mouth and chin in thought.

"I dunno, Boss," he said. "I can't quite put my

finger on it, but there's somethin' wrong there. He

just don't feel right lately."

Strangely enough, that made sense. In fact,

Nunzio had managed to put into words my own

nebulous concerns about my pet ... he didn't

feel right.

"Maybe we're going about this wrong," I said.

"Maybe instead of trying to pin down what's

wrong with him now, we should try to backtrack

a bit."

"I don't quite follow you," my bodyguard

scowled.

"Think back, Nunzio," I urged. When did you

first notice that Gleep wasn't acting normal?"

"Well ... he seemed okay when Markie was

around," he said thoughtfully. "In fact, if you

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

125

think about it, he was the first of us to figure she

wasn't on the up and up."

Something flitted across my mind along with

that memory, but Nunzio kept talking and it

disappeared again.

"I'd have to say it was right after that job when

him and me was guarding that warehouse. You

remember? With the forged comic books?"

"Was he all right on that assignment?"

"Sure. I remember talkin' with him quite a bit

while we was sittin' around doin' nothin'. He was

fine then."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "You were

talking with Gleep?"

"I guess it was more like talkin' to him, since

he doesn't really answer back." Nunzio corrected

himself easily. "You know what I mean, Boss.

Anyway, I spent a lot of time talkin' to him, and

he seemed okay then. In fact, he seemed to listen

real close."

"What did you talk to him about?"

My bodyguard hesitated, then glanced away

quickly.

"Oh . . . this and that," he said with an exag-

gerated shrug. "I really can't remember for sure."

"Nunzio," I said, letting a note of sternness

creep into my voice, "if you can remember, tell

me. It's important."

"Well ... I was goin' on a bit about how

worried I was about you, Boss," Nunzio admitted

hesitantly. "You remember how you was right

after we decided to incorporate? How you was

gettin' so wrapped up in work that you didn't

have much time for anything or anyone else? I

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Robert Asprin

just unloaded on Gleep a bit about how I didn't

think it was healthy for you, is all. I didn't think

it would hurt nothin'. That's why I did my talkin'

in front of him and not anyone else on the

team . . . even Guido."

There were clear images dancing in my head

now. Pictures of Gleep breathing fire at Markie . . .

who only escaped narrowly when Nunzio inter-

vened . . . and of my pet throwing himself in

front of me when another, larger dragon was on

the brink of making me extinct.

"Think carefully, Nunzio/' I said slowly. "When

you were talking to Gleep, did you say any-

thing . . . anything at all ... about the possi-

bility of Tananda or anyone else on the team

being a threat to me?"

My bodyguard frowned thoughtfully for a mo-

ment, then shook his head.

"I don't remember sayin' anything like that,

Boss. Why do you ask?"

Now it was my turn to hesitate. The idea that

was taking shape in my mind seemed almost too

silly to voice. Still, since I was turning to Nunzio

for advice and expertise, it was only fair to share

my suspicions with him.

"It may be crazy," I said, "but I'm starting to get

the feeling that Gleep is a lot more intelligent

that we ever suspected. I mean, he's always been

kind of protective of me. If he were intelligent and

got it into his head that someone on the team was

a threat to me, there's a chance he might try to

kill them . . . just like he went after Markie."

My bodyguard stared at me, then gave a short

bark of laughter.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

127

"You're right, Boss," he said. "That does sound

crazy. I mean, Gleep's a dragon! If he was to try to

whack someone on the team, we'd know it pretty

fast, know what I mean?"

"Like when he tried to burn Tananda?" I pressed.

"Think about it, Nunzio. If he were intelligent,

wouldn't part of his conclusions be that I would

be upset if anything happened to anyone on the

team? In that case, wouldn't he do his best to

make any mishap look like an accident rather

than a direct attack? I'll admit it's a wild theory,

but it fits the facts."

"Except for one thing," my bodyguard coun-

tered. "For him to be doin' what you say, puttin'

pieces together and comin' up with his own

conclusions, much less organizing a plan and

executing it, would make him more than intelli-

gent. It would make him smarter than us! Re-

member, for a dragon he's still real young. It

would be like sayin' a baby that could hardly walk

was planning a bank heist."

"I suppose you're right," I sighed. "There must

be another explanation."

"You know, Boss," Nunzio smiled, "folks say

that, after a while, pets start takin' on the traits of

their masters and vice verses. Takin' that into

consideration, I think it's only logical that Gleep

here acts a bit strange from time to time."

For some reason, that brought to mind my

earlier conversation with Bunny.

"Tell me, Nunzio, do you think I've been drink-

ing too much lately?"

"That's not for me to say, Boss," he said easily.

"I'm just a bodyguard, not a babysitter."

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Robert Asprin

"I was asking what you thought."

"And I'm sayin' I'm not supposed to think . . .

at least, not about whoever it is I'm supposed to

be guardin'," he insisted. "Bodyguards that com-

ment on their clients's personal habits don't last

long. What I'm supposed to be doin' is guardin' you

while you do whatever it is you do ... not tellin'

you what to do."

I started to snap at him, but instead took a long

breath and brought my irritation under control.

"Look, Nunzio," I said carefully, "I know that's

the normal bodyguard/client relationship. I like

to think, though, that we've progressed a little

past that point. I like to think of you as a friend as

well as a bodyguard. What's more, you're a stock-

holder in M.Y.T.H. Inc., so you have a vested

interest in my performance as president. Now,

this morning Bunny told me that she thought I

was developing a drinking problem. I don't think

that I am, but I'm aware that I may be too close to

the situation to judge properly. That's why I'm

asking your opinion ... as a friend and fellow

worker whose opinions and judgment I've grown

to value and respect."

Nunzio rubbed his chin thoughtfully, obviously

wrestling with a mental dilemma.

"I dunno, Boss," he said. "It's kinda against the

rules . . . but then again, you're right. You do

treat Guido and me different from any other boss

we've had. Nobody else ever asked our opinion on

nothin'."

"Well I'm asking, Nunzio. Please?"

"Part of the problem is that it's not that easy a

question to answer," he shrugged. "Sure, you

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129

drink. But do you drink too much? That's not as

clear-cut. You've been drinking more since you

brought Aahz back from Perv, but 'more' doesn't

necessarily mean the same as 'too much.' Know

what I mean?"

"As a matter of fact, no I don't."

He sighed heavily. When he spoke again, I

couldn't help but notice that his tone had the

patient, careful note that one takes, or should,

when one is explaining something to a child.

"Look, Boss," he said. "Drinkin' affects the

judgment. Everybody knows that. The more you

drink, the more it affects your judgment. Sayin'

how much is too much isn't easy, though, seein'

as how it varies from individual to individual

depending on such factors as weight, tempera-

ment, etc."

"But if it affects your judgment," I said, "how

can you tell whether or not your judgment is right

when you say it's not too much?"

"That's the rub," Nunzio shrugged. "Some say

if you have the sense to question it, you aren't

drinkin' too much. Others say that if you have to

ask, then you ARE drinkin' too much. One thing

I do know is that a lot of people who drink too

much are sure they don't have a problem."

"So how do you tell?"

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin, "probably the

best way is to ask a friend whose judgment you

trust."

I closed my eyes and fought for patience.

"That's what I THOUGHT I was doing, Nun-

zio. I'm asking YOU. Do YOU think I'm drinking

too much?"

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Robert Asprin

"That isn't important," he said, blandly. "It

isn't a question of if I think you're drinkin' too

much, it's if YOU think you're drinkin' too much."

"NUNZIO," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm

asking what YOUR opinion is."

He averted his eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry, Boss. Like I say, this isn't easy for me."

He rubbed his chin again.

"One thing I WILL say is that I think you're

drinkin' at the wrong time . . . and I don't mean

too early or late in the day. I mean at the wrong

time in your life."

"I don't understand," I frowned.

"Ya see, Boss, drinkin' usually acts like a mag-

nifyin' glass. It exaggerates everything. Some people

drink trying' to change their mood, but they're

kiddin' themselves. It don't work that way. It

don't change what is, it emphasizes it. If you

drink when you're happy, then you get REAL

happy. Know what I mean? But if you drink when

you're down, then you get REAL down, REAL

fast."

He gave another heavy sigh.

"Now, you've been goin' through some rough

times lately, and have some tough decisions to

make. To me, that's not a real good time to be

drinkin'. What you need right now is a clear head.

What you DON'T need is somethin' to exaggerate

any doubts you've got about yourself or your

judgment."

It was my turn to rub my chin thoughtfully.

"That makes sense/' I said. "Thanks, Nunzio."

"Hey. I just had an idea," he said brightly,

apparently buoyed by his success. "There's a real

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

131

easy way to tell if you're drinkin' too much. Just

lay off the sauce for a while. Then see if there's

any big change in your thinkin' or judgment. If

there is, then you know it's time to back off. Of

course, if you find out that quittin' is harder than

you thought, then you'll have another signal that

you've got trouble."

A part of me bristled at the thought of having to

ease up on my drinking, but I fought it down . . .

along with my flash of fear at what that bristling

might imply.

"Okay, Nunzio," I said. "I'll do it. Thanks

again. I appreciate how hard that was for you."

"Don't mention it, Boss. Glad I could help

you."

He reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder

in a rare display of comradeship.

"Personally, I don't think you have that much

to worry about. If you've got a drinkin' problem,

it's marginal at best. I mean, it's not like you've

been blackin' out or anything."

Chapter Twelve:

"Let's see the instant replay on that!"

H. COSSELL

"HEY/ PARTNER! How's it going?"

I had been heading back toward my room with

the vague thought of getting a little more sleep.

The hail from Aahz, however, reduced my odds of

success noticeably.

"Hi Aahz/' I said, turning toward him. That put

the sun in my eyes, so I stepped back slightly to

find some shade.

He drew up close to me and peered at me

carefully. I, in turn, tried my best to look relaxed

and puzzled.

Finally he nodded to himself.

"You look okay," he declared.

"Shouldn't I?" I said, innocently.

"I heard you had quite a time last night," he

explained, shooting me another sidelong glance.

"Thought I'd better look you up and survey the

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Robert Asprin

damage. I'll admit you seem to have weathered

the storm well enough. Resilience of youth, I

guess.'7

"Maybe the reports were exaggerated," I sug-

gested hopefully.

"Not bloody likely," he snorted. "Chumley

said he saw you and your date when you rolled

back into the castle and, as you know, if anything,

he's prone to understatement."

I nodded mutely. When he wasn't in his work-

ing persona of Big Crunch, the troll was remark-

ably accurate in his reports and observations.

"Whatever," Aahz waved. "Like I say, you seem

to have survived pretty well."

I managed a weak smile.

"How about a Hair of the dog? A quick drink to

perk you up," he suggested. "Com'on partner. My

treat. We'll duck into town for a change of pace."

A moment's reflection was all it took to realize

that a stroll through the town around the castle

sounded good. Real good if Bunny was on the war-

path.

"Okay, Aahz. You're on," I said. "But as to the

hair of the dog . . . I'll stick to regular stuff if

you don't mind. I had enough of strange drinks

last night."

He gave off one of those choking noises he used

to make during my days as an apprentice when I

said something really dumb, but when I glanced

at him, there wasn't a trace of a smile.

"Aren't you forgetting something, partner?" he

said without looking at me.

"What?"

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

135

"If we're heading out among the common folk,

a disguise spell would be nice."

He was right of course. Even though I was used

to seeing him as he actually was, a Pervect with

green scales and yellow eyes, the average citizen

of Possiltum still tended to react to his appear-

ance with horror and fear . . . which is to say

much the same way I reacted when I first met

him.

"Sorry, Aahz."

Closing my eyes, I quickly made the necessary

adjustments. Manipulating his image with my

mind, I made him look like an ordinary castle

guard. If anything, I made him a bit more scrawny

and undernourished than average. I mean, the

idea was not to intimidate people, wasn't it?

Aahz didn't even bother checking his reflection

in any of the windows we passed. He seemed

much more interested in prying details of my date

out of me.

"Where did you find to go on this backwater

dimension, anyway?" he said.

"Oh, we didn't stick around here," I said loftily.

"We ducked over to Limbo. Cassandra knew a

couple clubs there and we ..."

I suddenly noticed Aahz was no longer walking

beside me. Looking back, I realized he had stopped

in his tracks. His mouth was working, but no sound

came out.

"Limbo?" he managed at last. "You went bar

crawling on Limbo? Excuse me, partner, but I was

under the impression we were persona non grata

in that neck of the woods."

"I was a little worried at first," I admitted

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Robert Asprin

casually, which was only a little lie. As you'll

recall, I had been a LOT worried. "Cassandra said

she could blip us back out fast if there was any

trouble, though, so I figured what the heck. As it

turned out, nobody seems to be holding a grudge

there. In fact, it seems I'm ... I mean, we're . . .

minor celebrities over there. That's partly why

the evening ran as long as it did. Half the people

we ran into wanted to buy me a drink for putting

one over on the local council."

"Is that a fact?" Aahz said darkly, starting to

move again. "Just who is this Cassandra person,

anyway? She doesn't exactly sound like a local."

"She's not," I confirmed. "Vie set me up with

her. She's a friend of his."

"Nice to know he didn't set you up with an

enemy," my partner quipped. Still in all, it seems

to me . , ."

He broke off and did another double take.

"Wait a minute. Vie? The same vampire Vie

that you hang around with over at the Bazaar?

You mean this Cassandra babe is . . ."

"A vampire," I said with a careless shrug. The

truth was, I was starting to get a bit of a kick out

of shocking Aahz. "Oh, she's okay. No one you'd

want to take home to mother, but . . . what's

wrong?"

He was craning his head around to peer at my

neck from different angles.

"Just checking for bite marks," he said.

"Com'on, Aahz. There wasn't any danger of

that. She was drinking her blood out of a glass last

night."

"Those weren't the kind of bite marks I was

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LIFE

137

checking for," he grinned. "Vamps have a rep of

being pretty wild women."

"Um . . . speaking of destinations," I said ea-

ger to change the subject, "where are we going?"

"No place special," my partner said. "These

local bars and inns are pretty much all the same.

This one should do us fine."

With that, he veered through the door of the

place we were passing, leaving me to follow along

behind.

The inn was refreshingly ordinary compared to

what I could remember of the surreal clubs I had

been to on Limbo. Ordinary, and more than a

little dull.

Dark wooden tables and chairs were the main

feature of the decor, with occasional candles

scattered here and there to supplement the light

which streamed in through windows and the

open door.

"What'll you have, Skeeve?" Aahz called, head-

ing for the bar.

I started to say 'Wine/ but changed my mind.

Whether or not Bunny was right about my drink-

ing getting out of hand, it wouldn't hurt to ease up

a bit. Besides, Nunzio's comment about blacking

out had me more than a little uneasy.

"Just some fruit juice for me," I waved.

Aahz paused, cocking his head at me.

"Are you sure you're all right, partner?" he said.

"Sure. Why do you ask?"

"A while back you were talking about looking

forward to having your usual, and now you're

switching drinks."

"All right. Have it your way," I grimaced. "A

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goblet of wine, then. No need to make a big thing

of it."

I leaned back and looked around the room,

though it was mostly to break eye contact with

Aahz before he realized I was upset. It was funny,

but I found myself somehow reluctant to tell my

partner my worries about my drinking. Still, it

was difficult to change my drinking patterns

around him without raising questions that would

require an explanation. I figured that, for the

moment, the easiest thing to do would be to go on

as before ... at least, while I was around Aahz.

Later, more privately, I'd start tapering off.

One thing I noticed about the inn was that

there seemed to be a lot of young people hanging

around. Well, to be honest, they were about my

age, but I spend so much time with the team, I

tend to think of myself as older.

One table of girls in particular caught my

attention, mostly because they seemed to be

talking about me. At least, that was my guess, as

they kept glancing my way, then putting their

heads together and giggling, then glancing over

again.

Not long ago, this would have made me ner-

vous. My recent excursion to Limbo, however,

had gotten me a bit more used to notoriety.

The next time they glanced over, I looked

directly back at them, then gave a brief, polite nod

of acknowledgment with my head. This, of course,

caused another hurried huddle and burst of giggles.

Ah, fame.

"What are you smiling at?" Aahz said as he set

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

139

my wine in front of me and slid onto the bench

across the table, cradling his own outsized drink.

"Oh, nothing," I smiled. "I was just watching

that table of girls over there."

I indicated the direction with a tilt of my head,

and he leaned sideways to scope them out him-

self.

"Kind of young for you, aren't they, partner?"

"They're not that much younger than I am," I

protested, taking a long swallow of wine.

"Don't you have enough problems already?"

Aahz said, settling back. "Last time I checked,

you were suffering from an overabundance of

women . . . not a shortage."

"Oh, relax," I laughed. "I wasn't figuring to do

anything with them. Just having a little fun, is all.

They were looking at me, so I let them see me

looking back."

"Well don't look now," he grinned back, "but at

least one of them is doing more than looking."

Needless to say, I looked.

One of the girls had stood up and was approach-

ing our table. When she saw me looking in her

direction, she seemed to gather her courage and

closed the distance in a rush.

"Hi," she said brightly. "You're him, aren't

you? The wizard from the castle?"

"That's right," I nodded. "How did you know

that?"

"I thought I heard him call you Skeeve when he

went to fetch your drink," she gushed.

"Probably because that's my name," I smiled.

Okay, so it wasn't the wittiest thing I'd said. In

fact, it was pretty lame compared to the usual

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Robert Asprin

banter that goes on within the team. You'd never

tell it, though, from her reaction.

She covered her mouth with one hand and

shrieked with laughter loud enough to draw the

attention of everyone in the room ... in the

town, for that matter.

"Oh! That's priceless," she declared.

"That's where you're wrong," I corrected. "Ac-

tually, my rates are rather high."

This, of course, set off another gale of laughter.

I caught Aahz's gaze and winked. He rolled his

eyes in disgust and turned his attention to his

drink. That seemed like a good idea, but when I

went to sip my wine, the goblet was empty. I

started to ask Aahz to get me another, but changed

my mind. That first one had disappeared with

disturbing speed.

"So, what can I do for you?" I said, as much to

take my mind off the wine as to get an answer.

"Well, everyone in town has been talking about

you," the girl chirped, "and my girlfriend . . .

the cute one over there . . . has a real thing for

you since she saw you in court when you first

came back. Anyway, it would just make her

whole incarnation if you'd come over to our table

so she could meet you personally."

"I don't know," I said. "There are things to be

said for meeting people im-personally as well."

"Huh?" she said, giving me a blank look, and I

realized I had pushed beyond her sense of humor.

"Just tell her I'll be over in a few moments, as

soon as I finish my conversation here."

"Great! She'll die!"

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

141

I watched her scamper off to tell her friends,

then turned back to Aahz.

"I may throw up," he announced.

"You're just jealous," I grinned. "Keep an eye

on my drink for me, will you?"

With that I rose and headed for the girls' table.

At least, I started to.

There was a gangly youth blocking my way. I

started to move around him, but he stepped

sideways, deliberately putting himself in my path

again.

I stopped and looked at him.

I'd been in fights before. Sometimes against

some pretty tough customers when I wasn't sure

I would survive it. This joker, however, was

different.

He couldn't have been more than my age.

Probably a few years younger. What's more, he

didn't hold himself with the confident poise of a

brawler or even a soldier. In fact, if anything, he

looked scared.

"Leave them alone," he said in a shaky voice.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said leave them alone!" he repeated, his

voice gaining a bit of strength.

I let the ghost of a smile play across my face.

"Young man," I said gently, "do you know who

I am?"

"Oh, I know all right," he nodded. "You're

Skeeve. The big bad wizard from the castle. What's

more, I know you can make me sorry I ever

breathed, much less got in your way. You can turn

me into a toad or make my hair burst into flame,

or even whistle up some nasty creature to tear me

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SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

143

apart if you don't want to get your own hands

dirty. You can squash me or anyone else you want

just to get your way . . . but it doesn't make it

right. Maybe it's about time someone stood up to

you even if it means getting killed just for trying."

I couldn't help but notice there were some nods

and mutterings of support for the youth at the

other tables in the inn, and no few dark looks cast

in my direction.

"All right," I said levelly. "You're standing up

to me. Now make your point."

"The point is you can't just waltz in here and

put moves on our women. What's more, if you try,

you'll be sorry."

To emphasize his words, he reached out and

gave me a shove that knocked me back. I had to

take a step to recover my balance.

It was suddenly very quiet in the inn. The

moment seemed to hang in the air as everyone

tensed and waited to see what would happen

next.

Blood was pounding in my ears.

I heard the bench behind me slide as Aahz

started to get up, and I signaled behind me with

my hand for him to stay out of it.

"I have no intention of putting any 'moves' on

these women either now or in the future," I said

carefully. "The young lady there came to my table

and said that her friend wanted to meet me. I was

about to comply. Period. That's it. It was an effort

on my part to be polite. If, as it seems, it is

somehow offensive to you or anyone else here, I'll

forego the pleasure."

I looked past him to where the girls were

watching.

"Ladies," I nodded. "Another day, perhaps."

With that, I turned on my heel and marched out

of the place . . . angry and embarrassed, but con-

fident that I had correctly handled a dubious

situation.

It didn't help, however, that as I passed through

the door, a shout from the youth came wafting

after me.

"And don't come back!"

1

Chapter Thirteen:

"The secret of popularity Is confi-

dence. "

W. ALLEN

"HOLD UP A minute, partner. We're still together,

you know."

I slowed my pace a bit, and Aahz caught up

with me, falling in step beside me.

"If you don't mind the observation," he said,

"that little scene back there seems to have gotten

you a little upset."

"Shouldn't it have?" I snapped.

"Don't let it bother you," my partner said easily.

"Locals always get upset with outsiders . . .

especially when their women start flirting with

them. It's a problem as old as the hills. Just ask

any soldier or carny person. Don't take it person-

ally."

He gave me a playful punch on the arm, but, for

a change, I wasn't reassured.

"But they weren't reacting to an outsider, Aahz.

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Robert Asprin

They were reacting to me. I live here, too. What's

more, they knew it. They knew who I was and

that I work at the castle, but they still treated me

like an outsider."

"As far as they're concerned, you are."

That one stopped me.

"How's that again?"

"Take a look at the facts, Skeeve," Aahz said,

more serious now. "Even ignoring your travels

through the dimensions, you aren't the same as

them. Like you say, you work at the castle . . .

and not as a chambermaid or a kitchen worker,

either. You're one of the main advisors to the

Queen, not to mention a possible consort . . .

though I doubt they know that. Things you do

and say on a daily basis affect everyone in this

kingdom. That alone puts you on a different

social . . . not to mention economic . . . level

from the folks here in town."

That made me pause and think.

My new life and lifestyle had sort of grown up

around me over the years. Socializing and/or

clashing with kings or mayors had become pretty

commonplace, though I had never stopped to

consider it. Rather, I had always assumed that it

sort of went with the territory when one was a

magician. Then again, how many magicians had I

met while I was growing up?

Aahz was right. My work with the team had

cocooned me away from the rest of society to a

point where I took things for granted. The extra-

ordinary had become so ordinary to me, that I had

ceased to be aware of, or even consider, how it

must seem to the ordinary citizens.

SWEET MYTH-TCRY OF LIFE

147

I shook my head abruptly.

"No. There's more to it than that, Aahz. Those

people back there didn't like me."

"Uh-huh," my partner nodded. "So what's your

point?"

"What's my point*" I echoed a little shrilly.

"Maybe you didn't understand me. I said ..."

". . . They didn't like you," Aahz finished. "So

what?"

"What do you mean 'So what'?" I said. "Don't

you want to be liked?"

My old mentor frowned slightly, then gave a

shrug.

"I suppose it would be nice," he said. "But I

really don't give it much thought."

"But ..."

"And neither should you."

There was a levelness and firmness, almost a

warning, in his tone that brought me up short.

Instead of protesting, I struggled for several

moments trying to understand what he was try-

ing to tell me, then surrendered with a shake of

my head.

"I don't get it, Aahz. Doesn't everyone want to

be liked?"

"Maybe at some level," my partner said. "But

most people realize it's a wistful hope at best . . .

like it would be nice if it only rained when we

want it to. The reality is that it rains when it

bloody well feels like it, and that some people

aren't going to like you no matter what you do.

The up side is that there are also people who will

like you no matter what you do."

"I can't accept that," I said, shaking my head.

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Robert Asprin

"It's too fatalistic. If you're right, then there's no

point in trying at all."

"Of course there is," Aahz snapped. "Just don't

take everything to extremes. Okay? Reality al-

ways lies somewhere between the extremes. Not

trying at all to have people like you is as silly as

trying too much."

"Is that what I've been doing? Trying too much?"

My partner waggled his hand in front of him in

a so-so gesture.

"Sometimes you drift dangerously close," he

said. "I think that sometimes you let your desire

to be liked get out of proportion. When that

happens, it starts to warp your perception of

yourself and the world."

"Could you give me an example or two?"

"Sure," he said easily. "Let's start with an easy

one . . . like taxes. Part of your job right now is

to be a consultant on the taxes being levied on the

citizens. Right?"

I nodded.

"... Except that people don't like to pay taxes.

If they had their druthers, they would get the

protection and services of the kingdom without

paying a cent. Of course, they also realize that

something for nothing is an unrealistic situation,

so they accept the necessary evil of taxes. They

accept it, but the don't like it. Because they don't

like it, there is going to be an ongoing level of

resentment and grumbling. Whatever the tax as-

sessment is, it's too high, and whatever the level

of services is, it's too low. That resentment is

going to be forced on anyone involved with set-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

149

ting the taxes, which includes you and everyone

else who works at the castle."

He shook his head.

"What I'm saying is that if you're in a position

of decision making and power, such as you are now,

you can forget about being liked by the people

who are affected by your decisions. The best you

can hope for is respect."

"Wait a minute," I said, "are you saying that

people can respect you without liking you?"

"Sure," Aahz said easily. "That one I can give

you dozens of examples on. Since we're on the

subject of taxes and finances, consider Grimble.

You respect his skill and dedication even though

you don't particularly like him as a person. Right?"

I had to admit that he was right there.

"Better still," he continued, "think back to

when you and I first paired up. I was pretty rough

on you with the magik lessons, and made you

practice even when you didn't feel up to it. You

didn't like me for drilling you constantly, but

you did respect me."

"Um . . . Well, I didn't know you as well then

as I do now/' I said uneasily. "At the time,

though, I guess I had to believe that you knew

what you were doing, and that what you were

putting me through was necessary for the learn-

ing process . . . whether I liked it or not."

"Precisely," Aahz nodded. "Don't feel bad. It's

the normal reaction to an authority figure, whether

it's a parent, a teacher, a boss, or a government

representative. One doesn't always like what they

make us do, but even in the midst of disliking

being forced to do something, one can still admire

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and respect the fairness and expertise with which

they do their job."

He shrugged easily.

"I guess that's it in a nutshell," he said. "You're

a likeable young man, Skeeve, but sometimes I

think you should worry less about being liked and

more about being respected. If nothing else, it's a

more realizable goal."

I thought about what he had said for a few

minutes.

"You're right, Aahz," I said finally. "Being re-

spected is more important than being liked."

With that, I veered off to head in a different

direction than the one we had been walking.

"Where are you going, partner?"

"I'm going to see Bunny," I called back. "There's

a conversation we started this morning that I

think we should finish."

I had a fair amount of time to think about what

I wanted to say before I reached Bunny's room. It

didn't help. When I got there, I was still as much

at a loss of how to express my thoughts as when

I started out.

I paused for a few moments, then rapped lightly

on her door before I lost my nerve. Truth to tell, I

was half hoping she was out or asleep, which

would let me off my self-imposed hook.

"Who is it?"

So much for half-hopes. Maybe next time I

should try a whole one.

"It's me, Bunny. Skeeve."

"What do you want?"

"I'd like to talk to you, if it's all right."

There was a silence that lasted just long enough

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

151

for me to both get my hopes up, and to start

seriously worrying.

"Just a minute."

As I waited, I could hear occasional sounds of

metallic clanking, as if someone was moving

stacks of iron plates . . . heavy iron plates, from

the sound of it. This puzzled me, as I could think

of no reason why Bunny would have metal plates

in her room.

Then it occurred to me that she might have

someone else in there with her.

"I can come back later, if this is a bad time," I

called, shutting my mind on trying speculate

who might be in my assistant's quarters at this

hour . . . and why.

In response, the door flew open, and Bunny

stood framed in the doorway.

"Come on in, Skeeve," she said, rather breath-

lessly. "This is a surprise."

It certainly was.

Silhouetted against the light, at first I thought

she was stark naked. Then she turned, and I

realized she was actually wearing a brightly col-

ored outfit that was skin tight and hugged her

body like it was painted on.

"Umm . . ."I said smoothly, unable to tear

my eyes from her form.

"Sorry I'm such a mess," she said, grabbing up

a towel and beginning to dab the sweat from her

face and throat. "I was just working out."

Now, as you know, I've gotten pretty intense

while working out my own problems in the past,

but I've never felt the need to wear a special outfit

while doing it. Then again, I've never worked up

152   Robert Asprin

the kind of sweat doing it that Bunny seemed to.

Whatever her problems were, they must be dil-

lies.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I said,

genuinely concerned.

"No thanks," she smiled. "I was pretty much

done when you knocked. Maybe sometime you

can come in and spot for me, though."

Now she had lost me completely. Spot what?

And how would spotting anything help her work

things out?

"So what's up?" she said, perching on the edge

of her bed.

Whatever her problems were, they didn't seem

to have her particularly upset. I decided to hold

off on trying to sort them out, at least, until I had

settled what I came here to do.

"Basically, Bunny," I said, "I wanted to apolo-

gize to you."

"For what?" she seemed genuinely puzzled.

"For how I acted this morning ... or when-

ever it was that I woke up."

"Oh that," she said, looking away. "There's no

need to apologize. Everyone gets a bit out of sorts

when they have a hangover."

It was nice of her to say that, but I wasn't about

to let it slide.

"No, there's more to it than that, Bunny. You

tried to raise some valid concerns about my

health and well being, and I gave you a rough time

because I wasn't ready to hear what you were

saying. I guess I didn't want to hear it. With

everything else I've been trying to sort out, I

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

153

really didn't want one more problem to compli-

cate things."

I paused and shook my head.

"I just wanted you to know that since then, I've

been thinking about what you said. I've decided

that you may be right about my having a drinking

problem. I'm not sure, mind you, but there's

enough doubt in my mind that I'm going to try to

ease up for a while."

I sat down on the bed beside her, and put my

arm around her shoulders.

"Whether you were right or not, though, I

wanted to thank you for your caring and concern.

That's what I should have said this morning

instead of getting defensive."

Suddenly, she was hugging me, her face buried

in my chest.

"Oh Skeeve," came her muffled voice. "I just

get so worried about you. I know you're in the

middle of making some rough decisions, and I try

not to add to your problems. I just wish there was

something more I could do to ease things for you,

but it seems that when I try to help, I just make

things worse for you."

Gradually, I became aware that she was crying

softly, though I wasn't sure why. Also, I became

very aware that there weren't many clothes be-

tween me and the body she was pressing against

me . . . and that we were sitting on a bed . . .

and . . .

I shut the door on that portion of my thoughts,

vaguely ashamed of myself. Bunny was obviously

upset and concerned for me. It was ignoble of me

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Robert Asprin

to taint the moment by entertaining thoughts

of ...

I shut the mental door again.

"Come on, Bunny," I said softly, stroking her

hair with one hand. "You are a big help to me.

You know and I know that I'd be lost trying to

straighten out the kingdom's finances without

your knowledge. You've take that whole burden

on yourself."

I took her by the shoulders and held her away

from me so that I could look into her eyes.

"As to doing more," I continued, "you're al-

ready trying harder which is probably wise. Like

this morning when you talked to me about my

drinking problem. I appreciate it ... I really do.

Some things I just have to work out for myself,

though. That's the way it should be. Nobody else

can or should make my decisions for me, since I'm

the one who is going to have to live with the

repercussions. All that you can do ... all that

anyone can do ... to help me right now is to be

patient with me. Okay?"

She nodded and wiped her eyes.

"Sorry about the waterworks," she said wryly.

"Gods. The first time you come to my room, and

I look like a mess."

"Now that is silly," I smiled, touching my

finger to the end of her nose in mock severity.

"You look terrific . . . like you always do. If you

don't know that, you should."

After that, it was only natural to kiss her . . .

a short, friendly kiss. At least, that's the way it

started out. Then it started to last longer, and

longer, and her body seemed to melt against mine.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

155

"Well, I better say good night now," I said,

pulling away from her, "Big day tomorrow."

That was a blatant lie, as tomorrow promised to

be no more or less busy for me than any other day.

I realized, however, that if I didn't break things

up, and our physical involvement grew, I'd have

trouble convincing myself that the reason I had

come to Bunny's room was to apologize and thank

her for her concern.

For a mad moment, I thought she was going to

protest my leaving. If she had, I'm not sure the

strength of my resolve would have been sufficient

to get me out the door.

She started to say something, then stopped and

drew a deep breath instead.

"Good night, Skeeve," she said finally. "Come

and see me again sometime . . . soon."

To say the least, there were many distracting

thoughts dancing in my head as I made my way

back to my room.

Bunny had come on to me pretty strong when

we first met, and I had backed her off. Having

made such a big thing out of keeping our relation-

ship on a professional basis, could I now reverse

my stance without making a complete fool of

myself? Would she let me? She seemed to still be

interested, but then again I might simply be

kidding myself.

Then, too, there was the question of whether or

not I had any right to be shopping around for a

new relationship while I was still making up my

mind on Queen Hemlock's proposal. The night

with Cassandra had been an adventure and a

learning experience, but even I couldn't kid my-

156   Robert Asprin

self that getting involved with Bunny would be a

brief fling.

What was it exactly that I wanted . . . and

from who?

Still lost in thought, I opened the door to my

room . . . and found a demon waiting for me.

Chapter Fourteen:

"Take a walk on the wild side."

G. GEBEL-WILLIAMS

Now, THOSE OF you who have been following my

adventures are aware that there is nothing new

about my finding a demon in my room. It's not all

that unusual these days, though I still have trouble

from time to time getting used to it.

Of course, some demon visitors are more wel-

come than others.

This one was a cute little number. She had

close-cropped brown hair which framed a round

face with big, wide-set almond-shaped eyes, a pert

little nose, and small, heart-shaped lips. She also

had a generous number of curves in all the right

places, which the harem outfit she was wearing

showed off with distracting clarity. The only

trouble was, she was tiny. Not "small," mind

you . . . tiny.

The figure in front of me, delectable as it might

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Robert Asprin

be, was only about four inches high and floated in

midair.

"Hi!" the diminutive lady chirped in a musical

voice. "You must be Skeeve. I'm Daphnie."

There was a time when I would have found the

effect unsettling. Courtesy of my recent travels,

however, I had seen it before.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," I said in my most

off-worldly, casual manner. "You're a Djin. Right?

From Djinger?"

"Well ... a Djeanie, actually. But if we're

going to be friends, no wisecracks about the

Djeanie with the light brown hair. Okay?"

I stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to

provide the rest of what was obviously supposed

to be a joke. Instead of continuing, though, she

simply looked back at me expectantly.

"Okay," I agreed finally. "That shouldn't be

hard."

She peered at me for a moment longer, then

shook her head.

"You must be the only one in the known

dimensions who doesn't know that song/' she

said. "Are you sure you're Skeeve? The Great

Skeeve?"

"Well . . . yes. Do we know each other?"

Realizing how stupid the question was, I has-

tened to modify it before she could answer.

"No. I'm sure I would have remembered if we

had met before."

For some reason, my clumsy recovery seemed

to please her.

"That's sweet," she said, floating forward to

run a soft hand along my cheek, light as a butter-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

159

fly's touch. "No. I haven't had the pleasure. We

have a mutual acquaintance, though. Do you

remember a Djin named Kalvin?"

"Kalvin? Sure. He gave me a hand a while back

when I was on Perv."

"On Perv, eh?" she said, looking lost in thought

for a moment, but then she brightened. "Well he

mentioned you and said that if I was ever out this

way, I should drop in and say 'Hi' for him."

"Really? That's nice of him . . . I mean, you."

I was pleasantly surprised by Kalvin's thought-

fulness. I don't get many social visitors from off

world, mostly just those who are looking for help

on one thing or another. It also occurred to me

that I had never thought of dropping in to pay

social calls to any of the various people I had met

on my many adventures, and made a mental note

to correct that situation.

"So, how's Kalvin doing? Is he fitting back into

life on Djinger okay after being gone so long?"

"Oh. He's okay," the Djeanie said shrugging her

shoulders . . . which had an interesting effect on

a shapely body in a harem outfit. "You know how

it is. It always takes a while to get back in stride

after a sabbatical."

"Say ... if we're going to be talking for a

while, would you mind enlarging to my size? It

would make conversation easier."

To be honest with you, after having watched

what happened when she shrugged her shoulders,

I was interested in seeing her body on a larger

scale. If nothing else, it would get rid of the

uncomfortable feeling that I was getting physi-

cally interested in a talking doll.

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Robert Asprin

"No problem," she said, and waved her arms.

The air rippled and shimmered, and she was

standing in front of me at my size. Well, actually,

a little less than a head shorter than me, which

placed me in the tantalizing position of looking

down at her.

"Say, is this a monastery or something?"

"What? Oh. No, this is the Royal Palace of

Possiltum." I said. "Why? Do I look like a monk?"

That was, of course, supposed to be a trick

question. I was really rather proud of my ward-

robe these days, and any monk who dressed the

way 1 did was way out of line with his vows of

poverty.

"Not really," she admitted. "But you seem to

be showing an awful lot of interest in my cleavage

for someone who's supposed to be as well traveled

as the Great Skeeve, Don't they have women on

this dimension?"

I guess I had been staring a bit, but hadn't

expected her to notice ... or, if she did, to

comment on it. However if there's one thing my

years with Aahz have taught me, it's how to cover

my shortcomings with words.

"Yes, we have women here," I said with an easy

smile. "Frankly, though, I think your cleavage

would be stared at no matter what dimension you

visited."

She dimpled and preened visibly.

"As starable as it is, however," I continued

casually, "my actual interest was professional.

Aside from Kalvin, you're the only native of

Djinger that I've met, and I was wondering if that

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

161

stunt you do changing size is a disguise spell, or if

it's true shape shifting."

Not bad for a quick out from an embarrassing

situation, if I do say so myself. Anyway, Daphnie

seemed to accept it.

"Oh that," she said, shrugging her shoulders

again. This time, however, I managed to maintain

eye contact. No sense pushing my luck. "It's the

real thing . . . shape shifting, that is. It's one

of the first things a Djin ... or, especially a

Djeanie . . . has to learn. When your whole di-

mension is in the wish biz, you've got to be able

to cater to all kinds of fantasies."

My mind went a little out of focus for a mo-

ment as it darted across several unprintable fan-

tasies I could think of involving Daphnie, but she

was still going.

"It's not just size either . . . well, height, I

mean. We can shift to any proportions necessary

for the local pinup standards. Check this out."

With that, she proceeded to treat me to one of

the most impressive arrays of female bodies I've

ever seen . . . except they were all her! In quick

succession, she became willowy, then buxom,

then long-legged, while at the same time chang-

ing her hair length and color, as well as changing

her complexion from delicately pale to a darker

hue than her normal cinnamon hue. I decided

then and there that where ever this pinup dimen-

sion was, I should make a point of dropping in for

a visit . . . soon.

My other reaction was far less predictable.

Maybe it was because I had been thinking so

much about women and marriage lately, but,

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Robert Asprin

while watching her demonstrating her shape shift-

ing skills, it popped into my head that she would

be an interesting wife. I mean, think of it: a

woman who could assume any size, shape, or

personality at will! It would certainly ease the

fears of being bored living with one woman for

the rest of your life.

"Very impressive," I said, forcing my previous

train of thought to a halt. "Tell me, have you ever

considered a career in modeling?"

Daphnie's eyes narrowed for a moment, then

her face relaxed again.

"I'll assume that was meant as a compliment.

Right?" she said.

That one had me really confused.

"Of course," I said. "Why? Isn't it?"

"I'm so attractive, I could make a living at it. Is

that what you were thinking?"

"Well . . . Yes. Even though when you put it

that way, it does sound a little dubious."

"You don't know the half of it," the Djeanie

said, rolling her eyes.

"Look, Skeeve. I tried that game once . , . and

you're right, I can do it and there's good money in

it. It's what goes with it that's a pain."

"I don't understand," I admitted.

"First of all, even though the job may look

glamourous from the outside, it isn't. It's long

hours in uncomfortable conditions, you know? I

mean, it's fun for most people to go to the beach,

but try sitting in the same spot for six hours while

waves break over you so the jerk photographer

can get 'just the right look and -lighting' . . . and

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

163

even then more often than not they don't use the

shot."

I nodded sympathetically, all the while wonder-

ing what a photographer was and why she would

hold still while he shot at her.

"Then again folks think there's a lot of status

attached to being a model." she continued. "There's

about as much status as being a side of beef on a

butcher's block. You may be the center of atten-

tion, but to the people working with you, you're

just so many pounds of meat to be positioned and

marketed. Now mind you, I like having my body

touched as much as the next woman, but I like to

think that while it's going on, whoever's doing it

is thinking of me. The way it is, it's like you're a

mannequin or a puppet being maneuvered for

effect."

"Uh-huh," I said, thinking that if I ever got a

chance to touch her body, I'd certainly be keeping

my mind on her in the process.

"Of course, there's always the job of keeping

the equipment in shape. Most women feel they'd

look better if they lost a couple pounds or firmed

up the muscle tone . . . and they even work at it

occasionally. Well, let me tell you, when your

livelihood depends on your looks, keeping the bod

in shape is more than a leisure-time hobby. It's a

full-time project. Your whole life is centered

around diets and exercise, not to mention main-

taining your complexion and hair. Sure, I have an

advantage because I can shape shift, but believe

me, the less you have to do magikally, the less

strain you put on the system and the longer the

machine lasts.

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Robert Asprin

"Which brings up another point: Whatever you

do to maintain your looks, it's a losing fight with

time. Djeanies may have a longer life span than

some of the women from other dimensions, but

eventually age catches up with everyone. Strate-

gic features that once used to catch the eye start

to droop and sag, the skin on the neck and hands

starts to look more and more like wet tissue

paper, and faster than you can say 'old crone/

you're back out the door and they've replaced you

from the bottomless pool of young hopefuls. Ter-

rific, huh?"

That one made me think a bit. One thing about

being a magician was that age wasn't a prime

factor. Heck, for a while when I was starting out,

I used my disguise spell to make myself look

older because no one would believe that a young

magician would be any good. The idea of losing

one's job simply because one had grown older was

a terrifying concept. I found myself being glad

that most jobs didn't have the age restrictions

that modeling seemed to.

"Then, just to top things off," the Djeanie said,

"there's the minor detail of how people treat you.

Most men are intimidated by your looks and

won't come near you on a bet. They'll stare and

drool, and maybe fantasize a little, but they won't

try to date you. Unless they have stellar looks

themselves or an iron-clad ego, they're afraid of

creating a 'Beauty and the Beast' comparison. The

ones who do come on to you usually have a

specific scenario in mind . . . and that doesn't

involve you either talking or thinking at all. They

want an ornament, and if there's actually a person

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

165

inside that glamourous package, they're not only

surprised, they're a little annoyed."

She sighed and shook her head.

"Sorry to ramble like that, but it's a pet peeve of

mine. When you stop to think about it, it's a little

sad to think of women who feel that all they have

to offer the world is their looks. Personally, I like to

think I have more to offer than that."

Taking a deep breath, she blew it all out noisily,

then smiled and cocked her head at me.

"Um . . . How about if I just say that I think

you look fantastic, and forget about speculating

on your potential as a model?" I said cautiously.

"Then I'd say 'Thank you, kind sir'. You aren't

so bad looking yourself."

She smiled and made a small curtsey. I success-

fully resisted an impulse to bow back to her.

Mostly, I was trying to think of what we could

talk about next, having exhausted the subject of

beauty.

"So, how do you know Kalvin?" Daphnie said,

solving the problem for me. "He made it sound

like the two of you were old buddies."

Now we were back on familiar footing.

"Actually, I bought him over at the Bazaar at

Deva. Well, to be accurate, I bought his bottle. I

only was entitled to one wish from him . . . but

I don't need to explain that to you. You probably

know the drill better than I do. I didn't get to

know him until a couple years later when I got

around to opening the bottle."

"I don't understand," she said, frowning pret-

tily. "Why did you buy his bottle if you weren't

going to use it for several years?"

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Robert Asprin

"Why I bought it in the first place is a long

story," I said, rolling my eyes comically. "As to

why I didn't use it for so long, I'm part of a fairly

impressive team of magik users . . . the head of

it, actually. We do a pretty good job of handling

most problems that come up on our own without

calling on outside help."

Okay. So I was blowing my own trumpet a bit.

Even though I didn't know if anything would ever

develop between us, she was cute enough that I

figured that it couldn't hurt to impress her a little.

"So he was with you the whole time? From

when you purchased his bottle until his dis-

charged his duty on Perv? When was that, ex-

actly?"

She didn't seem very impressed. If anything, it

was as if she was more interested in asking

questions about Kalvin than in learning about

me, a situation I found slightly annoying.

"Oh, it wasn't all that long ago," I said. "Just a

couple weeks back, in fact. Of course, time doesn't

advance at the same rate on all the dimen-

sions ... as I'm sure you know."

"True," she said, thoughtfully. "Tell me, did he

say he was going straight back to Dijinger? Or was

he going to stop somewhere along the way, first?"

"Let me think. As I recall, he didn't . . . Wait

a minute. Didn't he make it back to Djinger? I

thought you said that he was the one who told

you to look me up."

I was both concerned and confused. If Daphnie

was looking for Kalvin, then how had she found

out about me? I didn't know any other Djins . . .

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

167

or anyone who traveled to Djinger on a regular

basis.

"Oh, he made it back all right," she shrugged.

"I was just a little curious about ..."

There was a soft BAMF, and a second Djin

materialized in the room. This one I recognized

immediately as Kalvin, who I had just been speak-

ing to Daphnie about. I could tell at a glance,

though, that something was wrong.

Chapter Fifteen:

"Blessed are the peacemakers,  for

they shall take flack from both sides."

UNOFFICIAL UN MOTTO

I HAD GOTTEN to know Kalvin pretty well during

my trip to Perv, and all through that adventure he

had been as unshakable in a crisis as anyone I had

ever known. Now, however, he was exhibiting all

the classic symptoms of someone who was about

to lose control of his temper . . . clenched teeth,

furrowed brow, tight expression, the works.

Fortunately, his anger seemed to be directed at

my guest rather than at me.

"I should have known!" he snarled, without so

much as a nod to acknowledge my presence. "I

should have checked here first as soon as I found

out you were gone."

It occurred to me that, as little as I knew about

Djins, that it could be markedly unhealthy to

have one upset with you. Realizing that magik,

like a knife, could be used both benevolently or

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Robert Asprin

destructively, my first instinct probably would

have been to try to calm him down quickly . . .

or to vacate the premises.

To my surprise, however, the Djeanie spun

around and leveled what seemed to be an equal

amount of anger back at him.

"Oh, I see," she spat back. "It's all right for you

to disappear for years at a time, but as soon as I

step out the door, you've got to come looking for

me!"

The interest I had been feeling in Daphnie came

to a screeching halt. In the space of a few seconds

her personality had changed from a flirtatious

coquette to a shrill shrew. Then, too, there seemed

to be more to her relationship with Kalvin than just

an "acquaintance" as she had billed it.

"That was business," the Djin was saying, still

nose to nose with my visitor. "You know, the

stuff that puts food on the table for our whole

dimension? Besides, if you were just going out to

kick up your heels a bit I wouldn't care. What I

DO mind is your sneaking off to check up on

me."

"So what? It shouldn't bother you . . . unless

you haven't been telling me everything, that is."

"What bothers me is that you can't bring your-

self to believe me," Kalvin shot back. "Why do

you even bother asking me anything if you aren't

going to believe I'm telling you the truth?"

"I used to believe everything you told me. YOU

taught me how stupid that was. Remember?"

This seemed to be going nowhere fast, so I

summoned my courage and stepped forward to

intervene.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

171

"Excuse me, but I thought you two were friends."

Kalvin broke off his arguing to spare me a

withering look.

"Friends? Is that what she told you?"

He rounded on the Djeanie again.

"You know, babe, for someone who keeps ac-

cusing me of lying, you play pretty fast and loose

with the truth yourself!"

"Don't be silly," the Djeanie said. "If I had told

him I was your wife, he would have just covered

for you. You think I don't know how you men lie

to protect each other?"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Did you say

'wife'? Are you two married?"

Whatever was left of my interest in Daphnie

died without a whimper.

"Sure," Kalvin said with a grimace. "Can't you

tell by the loving and affection we shower on each

other? Of course we're married. Do you think

either of us would put up with this abuse from a

stranger?"

He gave a brief shake of his head, and for a

moment seemed to almost return to normal.

"By the way, Skeeve, good to see you again," he

said, flashing a tight smile. "Sorry to have forgot-

ten my manners, but I get ... Anyway, even

though it may be a bit late, I'd like to introduce

you to my wife, Daphnie."

"Well, at lest now I know what it takes to be

introduced to one of your business friends."

And they were off again.

There was a knock on the door.

I answered it, thinking as I did that it was nice

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to know at least a few people who came into my

room the normal way . . . which is to say, by

the door . . . instead of simply popping in unan-

nounced.

"Is everything okay, Boss? I thought I heard

voices."

"Sure," I said, "it's just . . . Guido?"

My mind had to grapple with several images

and concepts simultaneously, and it wasn't doing

so hot. First was the realization that Guido was

back from his mission as a special tax envoy.

Second, that he had his arm in a sling.

The latter probably surprised me more than the

former. After all our time together, I had begun to

believe that my bodyguards were all but invulner-

able. It was a little unsettling to be reminded that

they could be hurt physically like anyone else.

"What are you doing back?" I said. "And what

happened to your arm?"

Instead of answering, he peered suspiciously

past me at the arguing Djins.

"What's goin' on in there, Boss?" he demanded.

"Who are those two jokers, anyway?"

I was a little surprised that he could hear and

see my visitors, but then I remembered that it's

only while a Djin is under contract that he or she

can only be seen and heard by the holder of their

bottle.

"Oh, those are just a couple friends of mine," I

said. "Well . . . sort of friends. I thought they

were dropping by to say 'Hi,' but, as you can see,

things seem to have gotten a little out of hand.

The one with the beard is Kalvin, and the lady

he's arguing with is his wife, Daphnie."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

173

I thought it was a fairly straightforward expla-

nation, but Guido recoiled as if I had struck him.

"Did you say 'his wife'?"

"That's right. Why?"

My bodyguard stepped forward to place himself

between me and the arguing couple.

"Get out of here, Boss," he said quietly.

"What?"

At first I thought I had misunderstood him.

"Boss," he hissed with aggravated patience.

"I'm your bodyguard. Right? Well, as your body-

guard and the one currently responsible for the

well bein' of your continued health, I'm tellin'

you to get out of here!"

"But ..."

Apparently Guido wasn't willing to debate the

point further. Instead, he scooped me up with his

good arm and carried me out the door into the

corridor, where he deposited me none too gently

against the wall beside the doorway.

"Now stay here," he said, shaking a massive

finger in my face. "Got that? Stay here!"

I recognized the tone of his voice. It was the

same as when I tried to give Gleep a simple

command ... for the third or fourth time after

he had been steadfastly ignoring me. I decided I

would try to prove that I was smarter than my pet

by actually following orders.

"Okay, Guido," I said, with a curt nod. "Here it

is."

He hesitated for a moment, eyeing me as if to

see if I was going to make a break for the door.

Then he gave a little nod of satisfaction, turned,

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Robert Asprin

and strode into my room, closing the door behind

him.

While I couldn't make out the exact words, I

heard the arguing voices cease for a moment.

Then they were raised again in angry chorus,

punctuated by Guido's voice saying something.

Then there was silence.

After a few long moments of stillness, the door

opened again.

"You can come in now, Boss," my bodyguard

announced. "They're gone."

I left my post by the wall and re-entered my

room. A quick glance around was all it took to

confirm my bodyguard's claim. The Djins had

departed for destinations unknown. Surprisingly

enough, my immediate reaction was to be a little

hurt that they hadn't bothered to say goodbye.

I also realized that I wanted a goblet of wine,

but suppressed the desire. Instead, I perched on

the side of the bed.

"All right, Guido," I said. "What was that all

about?"

"Sorry to barge in like that, Boss," my body-

guard said, not looking at all apologetic. "You

know that's not my normal style."

"So what were you doing?"

"What I was doin' was my job," he retorted.

"As your bodyguard, I was attemptin' to protect

you from bein' hurt or maybe even killed. It's

what you pay me for, accordin' to my job descrip-

tion."

"Protecting me? From those two? Com'on,

Guido. They were just arguing. They weren't even

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

175

arguing with me. It was a family squabble be-

tween the two of them."

"Just arguing!" my bodyguard said, looming

over me. "What do you think ..."

He broke off suddenly and stepped back, breath-

ing heavy.

I was genuinely puzzled. I couldn't recall hav-

ing seen Guido more upset, but I really couldn't

figure out what was bothering him.

"Sorry, Boss," he said finally, in a more normal

tone. "I'm still a little worked up after that close

call. I'll be all right in a second."

"What close call?" I pressed. "They were

just . . ."

"I know, I know," he said, waving me to si-

lence. "They were just arguing."

He took a deep breath and flexed his arms and

hands.

"You know, Boss, I keep forgettin' how inexpe-

rienced you are. I mean, you may be tops in the

magik department, but when it comes to my

specialty, which is to say rough and tumble stuff,

you're still a babe in the woodwork."

A part of me wanted to argue this, since I had

been in some pretty nasty scrapes over the years,

but I kept my mouth shut. Guido and his cousin

Nunzio were specialists, and if nothing else over

the years I've learned to respect expertise.

"You see, Boss, people say that guys like me and

Nunzio are not really all that different from the

cops . . . that it's the same game on different

sides of the line. I dunno. It may be true. What I

am sure of, though, is that both we and our

counterparts agree on one thing: The most dan-

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Robert Asprin

gerous situation to stick your head into . . . the

situation most likely to get you dead fast . . .

isn't a shoot-out or a gang war. It's an ordinary

D&D scenario."

"D&.D," I frowned. "You mean that game you

were telling me about with the maps and the

dice?"

"No. I'm takin' about a 'domestic disturbance.'

A family squabble . . . just like you had goin' on

here when I came in. They're deadly, Boss. Espe-

cially one between a husband and wife."

I wanted to laugh, but he seemed to be utterly

serious about what he was saying.

"Are you kidding, Guido?" I said. "What could

happen that would be dangerous?"

"More things than you can imagine," he re-

plied. "That's what makes them so dangerous. In

regular hassles, you can pretty much track what's

going on and what might happen next. Argu-

ments between a husband and wife are unpredict-

able, though. You can't tell who's gonna swing at

who, when or with what, because they don't

know themselves."

I was beginning to believe what he was saying.

The concept was both fascinating and frightening.

"Why do you think that is, Guido? What makes

fights between married couples so explosive?"

My bodyguard frowned and scratched his head.

"I never really gave it much thought," he said.

"If I had to give an opinion, I'd say it was due to

the motivationals."

"The motives?" I corrected without thinking.

"That too," he nodded. "You see, Boss, the

business-type disputes which result in violence

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

177

like I am normally called upon to deal with

have origins that are easily comprehended . . .

like greed or fear. That is to say, either Boss A

wants somethin' that Boss B is reluctant to part

with, as in a good-sized hunk of revenue genera-

tin' territory, or Boss B is afraid that Boss A is

gonna try to whack him and decides to beat him

to the punch. In these situationals, there is a

clear-cut objective in mind, and the action is

therefore relatively easy to predict and counter.

Know what I mean?"

"I think so," I said. "And in a domestic distur-

bance?"

"That's where it can get ugly," he grimaced. "It

starts out with people arguin' when they don't

know why they're arguin'. What's at stake there is

emotions and hurt feelin's, not money. The prob-

lem with that is that there is no clear-cut objec-

tive, and as a result, there is no way of tellin'

when the fightin' should cease. It just keeps

escalatin' up and up, with both sides dishin' out

and takin' more and more damage, until each of

'em is hurt so bad that the only important thing

left is to hurt the other one back."

He smacked his fist loudly into his other hand,

wincing slightly when he moved his injured arm.

"When it explodes," he continued, "you don't

want to be anywhere near ground zero. One will

go at the other, or they'll go at each other, with

anything that's at hand. The worst part is, and the

reason neither us or the cops want to try to mess

with it, is that if you try to break it up, chances

are that they'll both turn on you. You see, mad as

they are, they'll still reflexively protect each

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Robert Asprln

other from any outside force . . . into which

category will fall you or anyone else who tries to

interfere. That's why the best policy, if you have a

choice at all, is to get away from them and wait

until the dust settles before venturin' close again."

This was all very interesting, particularly since

I was in the middle of contemplating marriage

myself. However, my bodyguard's wince had re-

minded me of the unanswered question originally

raised by his appearance.

"I think I understand now, Guido," I said.

"Thanks. Now tell me, what happened to your

arm? And what are you doing back at the palace?"

Guido seemed a little taken aback at the sud-

den change of topic.

"Sorry I didn't check in as soon as I got back,

Boss," he said, looking uncomfortable. "It was

late and I thought you were already asleep . . .

until I heard that argument in process, that is. I

would have let you know first thing in the morn-

ing."

"Uh-huh," I said. "No problem. But since we're

talking now, what happened?"

"We ran into a little trouble, is all," he said,

looking away. "Nothin' serious."

"Serious enough to put your arm in a sling," I

observed. "So what happened?"

"If it's okay with you, Boss, I'd rather not go

into details. Truth is, it's more than a little

embarrassing."

I was about to insist, then thought better of it.

Guido never asked for much from me, but it

seemed right now he was asking that I not push

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

179

the point. The least I could do was respect his

privacy.

"AH right," I said slowly. "We'll let it ride for

now. Will you be able to work with that arm?"

"In a pinch, maybe. But not at peak efficiency,"

he admitted. "That's really what I wanted to talk

to you about, Boss. Is there any chance you can

assign Nunzio to be Pookie's backup while I take

over his duties here?"

Realizing how infatuated Guido was with

Pookie, it was quite a request. Still, I was reluc-

tant to go along with it.

"I don't know, Guido," I said "Nunzio's been

working with Gleep to try to figure out what's

wrong with him. I kind of hate to pull him off that

until we have some answers. Tell you what. How

about if I talk to Chumley about helping out?"

"Chumley?" my bodyguard frowned. "I dunno,

Boss. Don't you think that him bein' a troll would

tend to scare folks in these parts?"

Realizing that both Guido and Nunzio relied

heavily on intimidation in their work, this was an

interesting objection. Still, he had a point.

"Doesn't Pookie have a disguise spell or some-

thing that could soften Chumley's appearance?" I

suggested. "I was assuming that she wasn't wan-

dering around the countryside showing the green

scales of a Pervect."

"Hey! That's right! Good idea, Boss," Guido

said, brightening noticeably. "In that case, no

problem. Chumley's as stand up as they come."

"Okay, I'll talk to him first thing in the morn-

ing."

"Actually, Chumley's a better choice than Nun-

180   Robert Asprin

zio," my bodyguard continued, almost to himself.

"Pookie's still kinda upset over shootin' me, and

Nunzio would probably ..."

"Whoa! Wait a minute! Did you say that Pookie

shot you?"

Guido looked startled for a moment, then he

drew himself up into a wall of righteous indigna-

tion.

"Really, Boss/' he said. "I thought we agreed

that we wasn't gonna talk about this. Not for a

while, anyway."

Chapter Sixteen:

"Marriage is a fine institution . . .

if one requires institutionalizing."

S. FREUD

"Hi, CHUMLEY. MIND if I come in?"

The troll looked up from his book, and his

enormous mouth twisted into a grin of pleasure.

"Skeeve, old boy!" he said. "Certainly. As a

matter of fact, I've been expecting you."

"Really?" I said, stepping into his room and

looking around for somewhere to sit.

"Yes. I ran into Guido this morning, and he

explained the situation to me. He said you were

going to be calling on me for a bit of work. I was

just killing time waiting for the official word, is

all."

I wondered if the briefing my bodyguard had

given Chumley was any more detailed than what

he had told me.

"It's all right with you, then?" I said. "You don't

mind?"

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Robert Asprin

"Tish tosh. Think nothing of it," the troll said.

"Truth to tell, I'll be glad to have a specific

assignment again. I've been feeling a bit at loose

ends lately. In fact, I was starting to wonder why

I was staying around at all."

That touched a nerve in me. It had been some

time since I had even stopped by to say 'Hello' to

Chumley.

"Sorry if I've been a bit distant," I said guiltily.

"I've been . . . busy . . . and . . ."

"Quite right," Chumley said with a grin and a

wink. "Caught a glimpse of your workload when

you rolled in the other night. Bit of all right,

that."

I think I actually blushed.

"No really," I stammered. "I've been . . ."

"Relax, old boy," the troll waved. "I was just

pulling your leg a bit. I know you've been up

against it, what with the Queen after you and all.

By the by, I've got a few thoughts on that, but I

figured it would be rude to offer advice when none

had been asked for."

"You do? That's terrific," I said, and meant it.

"I've been meaning to ask your opinion, but

wasn't sure how to bring it up."

"I believe you just have, actually," Chumley

grinned. "Pull up a chair."

I followed his instructions as he continued.

"Advice on marriage, particularly when it comes

to the selection of the partner to be, is usually

best kept to oneself. The recipients usually al-

ready have their minds made up, and voicing any

opinion contradictory to their decision can be

hazardous to one's health. Since you've actually

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

183

gotten around to asking, however, I think you

might find my thoughts on the matter to be a tad

surprising."

"How's that?"

"Well, most blokes who know me . . . the real

me, that is, rather than Big Crunch . . . think of

me as a bit of a romantic."

I blinked, but kept a straight face.

While I have the utmost respect for Chumley, I

had never thought of him as a romantic figure . . .

possibly something to do with his green matted

hair and huge eyes of different sizes. While I

suppose that trolls have love lives (otherwise,

how does one get little trolls?) I'd have to rate

their attractiveness in relation to dwellers of

other dimensions to be way down near the bot-

tom. Their female counterparts, the trollops, such

as his sister Tananda, were a whole different

story, of course, but for the trolls themselves . . .

on a scale of one to ten, I'd generously score them

around negative eighteen.

This particular troll, however, old friend though

he might be, was currently sitting within an arm's

length of me . . . his arm, not mine . . . and as

that arm was substantially stronger than two arms

of the strongest human . . . which I'm not ... I

decided not to argue the point with him. Heck, if he

wanted to say he was the Queen of May I'd probably

agree with him.

"For the most part, they'd be right," Chumley

was continuing, "but on the subject of marriage, I

can be as coldly analytical as the best of them."

"Terrific," I said. "That's what I was really

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Robert Asprin

hoping for. ... An unemotional, unbiased opin-

ion."

"First, let me ask you a few questions," the

troll said.

"All right."

"Do you love her?"

I paused to give the question an honest consid-

eration.

"I don't think so," I said. "Of course, I really

don't know all that much about love."

"Does she love you?"

"Again, I don't think so," I said.

I was actually enjoying this. Chumley was

breaking things down to where even I could

understand his logic.

"Well, has she said she loves you?"

That one I didn't even have to think about.

"No."

"You're sure?" the troll pressed.

"Positive," I said. "The closest she's come is to

say she thinks we'd make a good pair. I think she

meant it as a compliment."

"Good," my friend said, settling back in his

chair.

"Excuse me?" I blinked. "For a moment there,

I thought you said ..."

"I said 'Good/ and I meant it/' the troll re-

peated.

"You lost me there," I said. "I thought mar-

riages were supposed to be . . ."

"... Based on love?" Chumley finished for

me. "That's what most young people think. That's

also why so many of their marriages fall apart."

Even though he had sort of warned me in

SWEET MYTH-TERV OF LIFE

185

advance, I found the troll's position to be a bit

unsettling.

"Urn, Chumley? Are we differentiating between

'analytical' and 'cynical'?"

"It's not really as insensitive as it sounds,

Skeeve," the troll said with a laugh, apparently

unoffended by my comment. "You see, when

you're young and full of hormones, and come in

close contact for the first time with someone of

the opposite sex who isn't related to you, you

experience feelings and urges that you've never

encountered before. Now since, despite their brag-

ging to the contrary, most people are raised to think

of themselves as good and decent folks, they auto-

matically attach the socially correct label to these

feelings: Love. Of course, there's also a socially

correct response when two people feel that way

about each other . . . specifically, marriage."

"But isn't that ..." I began, but the troll held

up a restraining hand.

"Hear me out," he said. "Now, continuing with

our little saga, eventually passions cool, and the

infatuation has run it's course. It might take

years, but eventually they find that 'just being

together' isn't enough. It's time to get on with life.

Unfortunately, right about then they discover

that they have little if anything in common. All

too often they find that their goals in life are

different, or, at the very least, their plans on how

to achieve them don't coincide. Then they find,

instead of the ideal partner to stand back to back

with while taking on the world, they've actually

opened a second front. That is, they have to spend

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Robert Asprin

as much or more time dealing with each other as

they do the rest of the world."

Despite myself, I found I was being drawn in,

almost mesmerized, by his oration.

"What happens then?" I said.

"If they are at all rational . . . notice I said

'rational/ not 'intelligent' . . . they go their sepa-

rate ways. AH too often, however, they cling to the

concept of 'love' and try to 'make it work.' When

that happens, the result is an armed camp living an

uneasy truce . . . and nobody's happy ... or ac-

tually achieving their full potential."

I thought about the bickering I had recently

witnessed between Kalvin and Daphnie, and about

what Guido had told me about domestic distur-

bances and how they can explode into violence. In

spite of myself, I shuddered involuntarily.

"That sounds grim," I said.

"Oh, it is," the troll nodded. "Trying to 'make

it work' is the most frustrating, depressing pas-

time ever invented. The real problem is that

they've each ended up with the wrong person, but

rather than admit that, they try to gloss things

over with cosmetics."

"Cosmetics?"

"Surface changes. Things that really don't mat-

ter."

"I don't get it."

"All right," the troll said. "I'll give you an

example. The wife says she needs some new

clothes, so her husband gives her some money to

go out shopping. That's a rather simple and straight

forward exchange, wouldn't you say?"

"Well . . . yes."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

187

"Only on the surface," Chumley explained.

"Now look at it a little deeper ... at what's

really going on. The husband has been getting

caught up in his work . . . that's a normal reac-

tion for a man when he get's married and starts

feeling 'responsible,' by the way . . . and his

wife is feeling unhappy and ignored. Her solution

is that she needs some new clothes to make her

more attractive so her husband will pay more

attention to her. A surface solution to her unhap-

piness. Now, when she says she needs new clothes,

the husband is annoyed because she seems to

have a closet full of clothes that she never wears,

but rather than argue with her, he gives her some

money for shopping . . . again, a surface solu-

tion. You'll notice that he simply gives her the

money. He doesn't take her shopping and help her

find some new outfits."

The troll leaned back in his chair and folded his

arms.

"From there, it goes downhill. She gets some

new clothes and wears them, but the husband

either doesn't notice or doesn't comment . . .

possibly because he still resents having to pay for

what he thinks is a needless purchase. Therefore,

buying new clothes . . . her surface solution . . .

doesn't work because she still feels ignored and

unhappy . . . and a little angry and frustrated

that her husband doesn't seem to appreciate her

no matter how hard she tries. Her husband, in the

meantime, senses that she's still unhappy so that

giving her money . . . his surface solution . . .

didn't work. He feels even more bitter and resent-

ful because now it seems that his wife is going to

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Robert Asprin

be upset and unhappy even if he 'gives her every-

thing she's asked for.' You see, by trying to deal

with the problem with surface, cosmetic gestures

without acknowledging to themselves the real

issues, they've actually made things worse in-

stead of better."

He smiled triumphantly as I considered his

thesis.

"So you're saying that marriages don't work," I

said carefully, "that the concept itself is flawed."

"Not at all," the troll corrected, shaking his

head. "I was saying that getting married under the

mistaken impression that love conquers all is

courting disaster. A proper match between two

people who enter into a marriage with their eyes

open and free of romantic delusions can result in

a much happier life together than they could ever

have alone."

"All right," I said. "If love and romance are bad

bases for deciding to marry someone because it's

too easy to fool yourself, what would you see as a

valid reason to get married."

"There are lots of them," Chumley shrugged.

"Remember when Hemlock first arrived here?

Her marriage to Roderick was a treaty and a merger

between two kingdoms. It's common among roy-

alty, but you'll find similar matches in the busi-

ness world as well. In that case, both sides knew

what they wanted and could expect, so it worked

out fine."

"Sorry, but that seems a bit cold to me," I said,

shaking my head.

"Really?" the troll cocked his head. "Maybe

I'm phrasing this wrong. What you don't want is

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

189

a situation where there is a hidden agenda on

either or both sides. Everything should be up front

and on the table . . . like with the Hemlock/

Roderick marriage."

"What's a hidden agenda?"

"Hmmm . . . That one's a little hard to ex-

plain. Tell me, if you married Queen Hemlock,

what would you expect?"

That one caught me totally unprepared.

"I don't know . . . nothing, really," I managed,

at last. "I guess I figure that it would pretty much

be a marriage in name only, with her going her

way and me going mine."

"Good," the troll said emphatically.

"Good?" I echoed. "Com'on, Chumley."

"Good in that you aren't expecting anything.

You aren't going into it with the notion of reform-

ing her, or that she'd give up her throne to hover

around you adoringly, or any one of a myriad of

other false hopes or assumptions that most grooms

have on the way to the altar."

"I suppose that's good," I said.

"Good? It's vital," the troll insisted. "Too many

people marry the person they think their partner

will become. They have some sort of idea that a

marriage ceremony is somehow magical. That it

will eliminate all the dubious traits and habits

their partner had when they were single. That's

about as unrealistic as if you had expected Aahz

to stop being a money-grubber or to shed his

temper just because you signed on as an appren-

tice. Anyway, when their partner keeps right on

being the person he or she has been all along, they

feel hurt and betrayed. Since they believe that

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

191

there should have been a change, the only con-

clusion they can reach is that their love wasn't

enough to trigger it ... or, more likely, that

there's something wrong with their partner. That's

when marriages start getting bloody. At least with

Queen Hemlock's proposal, nobody's kidding any-

body about what's going to happen."

I mulled over his words for a few moments.

"So you're saying that you think I should marry

Queen Hemlock," I said.

"Here now. Hold on," the troll said, leaning

back and holding up his hands. "I said no such

thing. That's the kind of decision that only you

can make. I was just commenting on what I see as

the more common pitfalls of marriage, is all. If

you do decide to marry the Queen, there are

certain aspects that would weigh in favor of it

working . . . but you're the one who has to de-

cide what you want out of a marriage and whether

or not this is it."

Terrific. I had been hoping that Chumley's

analytic approach would simplify things for me.

Instead, he had simply added a wagon load of

other factors to be considered. I needed that like

Deva needed more merchants.

"Well, I appreciate the input, Chumley," I said,

rising from my seat. "You've given me a lot to

think about."

"Think nothing of it, old boy. Glad to help."

"And you're all set with the assignment? Guido

told you how to hook up with Pookie?"

"Right-o."

I started to go, but paused for one more ques-

tion.

"By the way, Chumley. Have you ever been

married yourself?"

"Me?" the troll seemed genuinely surprised.

"Gracious no. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," I said, and headed out the door.

i

Chapter Seventeen:

"What am I supposed to do with all

this gold?"

MIDAS, REX

AT THIS POINT, I had to admit that I was more

confused than ever. It seemed that everyone I

talked to had a different view of marriage, which

wasn't making my decision any easier. One thing

everyone seemed to agree on, though: A bad

marriage could be a living Hell.

Of course, defining what a good marriage was

and how to avoid a bad one seemed to defy simple

explanation ... or, at least, one simple enough

that I could grasp.

The problem was, as limited as my experience

with the opposite sex was, my knowledge of

marriages, good or bad, was even sketchier. I

could barely remember my own family, I had left

home so long ago. The only married couple I had

met on my adventures was the Woof Writers, and

realizing they were werewolves I somehow didn't

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194

Robert Asprin

think they were a valid role model for me. Then

again, Massha and Badaxe were talking about

getting married. Maybe they could provide some

insight for me.

I was considering this possibility as I wandered

across the palace courtyard, when a voice inter-

rupted my thoughts.

"Hey, Partner!"

I had to look around for a moment before I

spotted Aahz waving at me from one of the

palace's upper windows.

"Where were you this morning? We missed you

at the session with Grimble."

"I had to talk to Chumley," I called back.

"Guido got hurt, and I had to ask Chumley to

stand in for him."

"Whatever," my partner waved. "Go see

Grimble. It's important!"

That sounded vaguely ominous, but Aahz

seemed chipper enough.

"What's up?"

"Day of the eagle," he yelled, and disappeared

from sight.

Terrific!

As I redirected my steps toward Grimble's of-

fice, I couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. I

mean, with all the other problems plaguing me, I

really didn't need the added distraction of talking

to Grimble about some bird sanctuary.

"Hi, Grimble. Aahz said you wanted to see

me?"

The Chancellor glanced up to where I was

leaning against the doorway.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

195

"Ah. Lord Skeeve," he nodded. "Yes. Come in.

This shouldn't take long."

I eased into the room and plopped down in the

offered chair.

"What's the problem? Aahz said something

about eagles?"

"Eagles? I wonder what he was referring to. No,

there's no problem," Grimble said. "If anything,

quite the contrary. In fact, the new tax collection

process is working well enough that we're now in

a positive cash flow situation. What's more, I

think that except for dotting a few I's and crossing

a few T's we've got the new budget pretty well

nailed down."

He leaned back and favored me with one of his

rare smiles.

"Speaking of 'tease/ that's quite a little assis-

tant you have there. I'll admit I'm very impressed

with all her qualifications. Take my advice and

don't let her go ... as if I had to tell you that."

This was, of course, accompanied by a smirk

and a wink.

While I had grown to expect this sort of com-

ment from Grimble whenever the subject of Bunny

came up, I found I was no more fond of it than when

they had first met. At least now, he was refraining

from such behavior in her presence . . . which

was a victory of sorts, I suppose. Still, I was

annoyed and decided to take another shot at it.

"I'm surprised to hear you talk that way,

Grimble," I said. "Are you really so hung up on

hormones that you can't just acknowledge her

worth as a colleague without adding sexual innu-

endos?"

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Robert Asprin

"Well ... I ..." the Chancellor began, but I

cut him off.

". . . Especially realizing that the Queen . . .

you know, your employer? ... is also female. I

wonder if she's aware of your slanted views re-

garding her gender, or, if she isn't, how she'd react

if she found out. Do you think she'd just fire you,

or would she want to see if you were bluffing,

first? From what I can tell, she's as interested in

playing around as you claim to be."

Grimble actually blanched which, realizing how

pale his complexion was to start with, was quite a

sight.

"You wouldn't tell her, would you, Lord

Skeeve?" he stammered. "I meant no disrespect

to Bunny. Really. She has one of the best financial

minds it's been my privilege to work with . . .

male or female. I was just trying to make a little

joke. You know, man to man? It's one of the

rituals of male bonding."

"Not with all males," I pointed out. "Relax,

though. You should know me well enough by now

to realize it's not my style to go running to the

Queen with reports or complaints. Just don't push

it so hard in the future. Okay?"

"Thank you, Lord Skeeve. I ... Thanks. I'll

make a point of it."

"Now then," I said, starting to rise, "I assume

we're done here? That the report on the collec-

tions and budget was what you wanted to see me

about?"

"No, that was just a casual update," Grimble

corrected, back on familiar ground now. "The real

reason I had to see you was this."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

197

He reached somewhere on the floor behind him

and produced a large bag which jingled as he

plopped it onto his desk.

"I don't understand," I said, eyeing the bag.

"What is it?"

"It's your wages," he smiled. "I know that

normally you let your assistants handle these

matters, but realizing the amount involved due to

your promotion, I thought you might like to deal

with it personally."

I stared at the bag uncomfortably. It was a very

big bag.

Even though I had been persuaded by Aahz and

Bunny to accept a sizable wage for my services,

looking at a number on a piece of paper was a lot

different than actually seeing the equivalent in

hard cash.

Perhaps it wouldn't seem like so much after I

had paid the others their share . . .

"Your assistants have already picked up their

wages," Grimble was saying, "so this is the last

payment to complete this round of payroll. If

you'll just sign here?"

He pushed a slip of paper across the desk at me,

but I ignored it and kept staring at the money bag.

It was a very large bag. Especially considering

how little I was actually doing.

"Is something wrong, Lord Skeeve?"

For a moment, I actually considered telling him

what was bothering me, which is a sign of how

upset I was. Grimble is not someone you confide

in.

"No. Nothing," I said instead.

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Robert Asprin

"Would you like to count it?" he pressed,

apparently still unconvinced.

"Why? Didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the Chancellor bristled, his

professional pride stung. I forced a smile.

"Good enough for me. Checking your work

would be a waste of both our time, don't you

agree?"

I quickly scribbled my name on the receipt,

gathered up the bag, and left, carefully ignoring

the puzzled look Grimble was leveling at me.

"You gonna need us for anything, Boss? You

want we should hang around out here?"

"Whatever, Guido," I waved absently as I shut

the door. "I'm going to be here for a while,

though, if you want to get something to eat. I've

got a lot to think over."

"Oh, we already ate. So we'll just . . ."

The door closed and cut off the rest of whatever

it was he was saying.

Guido and Nunzio had materialized at my side

somewhere during my walk back from Grimble's.

I wasn't sure exactly when, as I had been lost in

thought and they hadn't said anything until we

reached my room. If I had realized they were

there, I probably would have had one of them

carry the bag of gold for me. It was heavy. Very

heavy.

Setting the burden down on my desk, I sank

into a chair and stared at it. I had heard of bad

pennies coming back to haunt someone, but this

was ridiculous.

I had been so absorbed in trying to make up my

SWEET MYTH-TEKY OF LJFE

199

mind about Queen Hemlock that I hadn't gotten

around to my self-appointed task of trying to

cut back on my staff or otherwise reduce the

M.Y.T.H. Inc. bill to the kingdom. Now, I had the

money in hand, and all I felt was guilty.

No matter what Aahz and Bunny said, it still

felt wrong to me. Here we were, cutting corners

on the budget and squeezing taxes out of the

populace to try to shore up the kingdom's finan-

cial woes, while I siphoned money out of the

treasury that I didn't really need. What was more,

since it was my procrastinating on staff cuts that

had resulted in the inflated payday, I certainly

didn't think I should be rewarded for it.

The more I thought about it, the more deter-

mined I became to figure out some way to give

the money back. Of course, it would have to

be done quietly, almost secretly, or I'd suffer the

wrath of both Aahz and Bunny. Still, to me it was

necessary if I was going to be able to live with

myself.

Then, too, there was the problem of how to

reduce our payroll. Actually, if what Grimble had

just told me was accurate, that situation might

take care of itself. If the budget was coming into

balance, and if the collection process was now

flowing smoothly, then I could probably send

Bunny back to Deva, as well as one or more of my

bodyguards. What was more, I could then insist

on removing my own payment as financial coun-

selor. All that should reduce the M.Y.T.H. Inc. bill

substantially.

That still left me with the problem of how to

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Robert Asprin

deal with the disproportionate payment I had

already received.

Then an idea struck me. I'd do what any other

executive would do when confronted with a prob-

lem: I'd delegate it to someone else!

Striding to the door, I opened it and looked into

the hall. Sure enough, my two bodyguards were

still there, apparently embroiled in conversation

with each other.

"Guido! Nunzio!" I called. "Come in here for a

second."

I re-entered the room and returned to my desk

without waiting to see if they were responding. I

needn't have worried.

By the time I had re-seated myself, they were

standing in front of me.

"I have a little assignment for you boys," I said,

smiling.

"Sure, Boss," they chimed in chorus.

"But first, I want to check something. As long

as I've known you, you've both made it clear that,

in the past, you've had no qualms about bending

the rules as situations called for it, working

outside the law as it were. Is that correct?"

"That's right."

"No problem."

I noticed that, though to the affirmative, their

answers were slower and less enthusiastic than

before.

"All right. The job I have for you has to be done

secretly, with nobody knowing that I'm behind it.

Not even Aahz or Bunny. Understand?"

My bodyguards looked even more uncomfort-

able than before, but nodded their agreement.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

201

''Okay, here's the job," I said, pushing the bagol

money towards them. "I want you to take this

money and get rid of it."

The two men stared at me, then exchanged

glances.

"I don't quite get you, Boss," Guido said at last.

"What do you want us to do with it?"

"I don't care and I don't want to know," I said.

"I just want this money back in circulation within

the kingdom. Spend it or give it to charity."

Just then an idea hit me.

"Better still, figure out some way of passing it

around to those people who have been complain-

ing that they can't pay their taxes."

Guido frowned and glanced at his cousin again.

"I dunno, Boss," he said carefully. "It don't

seem right, somehow. I mean, we're supposed to

be collectin' taxes from people . . . not givin' it

to them."

"What Guido means," Nunzio put in, "is that

our speciality is extracting funds from people and

institutions. Givin' it back is a little out of our

line."

"Well then I guess it's about time you expanded

your horizons," I said, unmoving. "Anyway, that's

the assignment. Understand?"

"Yes, Boss," they chorused, still looking un-

easy.

"And remember, not a word about this to the

rest of the team."

"If you say so, Boss."

As I've said, the bag was heavy enough to have

given me trouble carrying it, but Guido gathered

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Robert Asprin

it up easily with his one good hand, then stood

hefting it for a moment.

"Umm . . . Are you sure you want to do this,

Boss?" he said. "It don't seem right, somehow.

Most folks would have to work for a lifetime to

earn this much money."

"That's my point," I muttered.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," I said. "I'm sure. Now do it.

Okay?"

"Consider it done."

They didn't quite salute, but they drew them-

selves up and nodded before they headed for the

door. I recalled they had been working with the

army for a while, and guessed that it had rubbed

off on them more than they realized.

After they had gone, I leaned back and savored

the moment.

I actually felt good! It seemed that I had found

a solution to at least one of my problems.

Maybe that had been my difficulty all this time.

I had been trying to focus on too many unrelated

problems at once. Now that the whole money

thing was off my back, I could devote my entire

attention to the Queen Hemlock situation with-

out interruptions or distractions.

For the first time in a long while, I actually felt

optimistic about being able to arrive at a decision.

I

Chapter Eighteen:

"It's so easy, a child could do it!"

THE LEGAL DISCLAIMER FOUND ON

THE INSTRUCTION SHEET OF ANY

"ASSEMBLE IT YOURSELF" KIT

"BLAH BLAH BLAH flowers, blah blah blah protocol.

Understood?"

"Uh-huh," I said, looking out the window.

When I had agreed to hear the plans for the

upcoming marriage between Massha and General

Badaxe, I had done it without realizing how long

it would take or how complex the ceremony

would be. After several hours of this/ however, I

realized that my own part was going to be mini-

mal, and was having a great deal of difficulty

paying attention to the myriad of details.

"Of course, blah blah blah . . ."

And they were off again.

A bird landed on a branch outside the window

and began gobbling down a worm. I found myself

envying him. Not that I was particularly hungry,

mind you. It was just that the way my life had

203

204   Robert Asprin

been going lately, eating a worm seemed like a

preferable alternative.

"Have you got that? Skeeve?"

I jerked my head back to the task at hand, only

to find my massive apprentice peering at me

intently. Obviously, I had just missed something I

was supposed to respond to.

"Umm . . . Not really, Massha. Could you sum-

marize it again briefly so I can be sure I have it

right?"

I didn't mean to emphasize the word 'briefly/

but she caught it anyway.

"Hmmm," she said, fixing me with a suspi-

cious stare. "Maybe we should take a break for a

few minutes," she said. "I think we could all do

with a good stretch of the legs."

"If you say so, my dear," the General said,

rising obediently to his feet.

I admired his stamina . . . and his patience. I

was sure that this was as tedious for him as it was

for me, but you'd never tell it to look at him.

I started to rise as well, then sank back quickly

into my seat as a wave of dizziness hit me.

"Hey Skeeve! Are you all right?"

Massha was suddenly more concerned than she

had been a moment before.

"I'm fine," I said, trying to focus my eyes.

"Would you like some wine?"

"No!! I mean, I'm all right. Really. I just didn't

get much sleep last night is all."

"Uh-huh. Out tom-catting again, were you, Hot

Stuff?"

Normally, I kind of enjoyed Massha's banter.

Today, though, I was just too tired to play.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

205

"Actually, I went to bed fairly early," I said,

stuffily- "I just had a lot of trouble getting to

sleep. I guess there was just too much on my

mind to relax."

That was a bit of an understatement. Actually,

I had tossed and turned most of the night . . .

just as I had for the two previous nights. I had

hoped that once I had dealt with the money

problems I had been wrestling with, I could con-

centrate on making up my mind about whether or

not to marry Queen Hemlock. Instead, all the

factors and ramifications kept dancing in my

head, jostling in my head, jostling each other for

importance, until I couldn't focus on any of them.

Unfortunately, I couldn't put them aside, either.

"Uh-huh," she said, peering at me carefully.

Whatever she saw, she didn't like. Pushing two

chairs together, she sat down next to me a put a

motherly hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, Skeeve," she said. "Tell Massha all

about it. What is it that's eating you up lately?"

"It's this whole thing about whether or not to

marry Queen Hemlock," I said. "I just can't seem

to make up my mind. As near as I can tell, there

isn't a clear cut right answer. Any option I have

seems to be loaded with negatives. Whatever I do

is going to affect so many people, I'm paralytic for

fear of doing the wrong thing. I'm so afraid of

doing something wrong, I'm not doing anything

at all."

Massha heaved a great sigh.

"Well, I can't make that call for you, Skeeve.

Nobody can. If it's any help, though, you should

know that you're loved, and that your friends will

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Robert Asprin

stand by whatever decision you reach. I know it's

rough right now, but we have every faith that

you'll do the right thing."

I guess that was supposed to be reassuring. It

flashed across my mind, however, that I really

didn't need to be reminded of how much everyone

was counting on me to reach the right decision . . .

when after weeks of deliberation I still didn't have

the foggiest idea of what the right decision was!

Still, my apprentice was trying to help the only

way she knew how, and I didn't want to hurt her

for that.

"Thanks, Massha," I said, forcing a smile. "That

does help a bit."

"Ahem."

I glanced up to see General Badaxe stepping

forward. He had been so quiet I had forgotten he

was in the room until he cleared his voice.

"Will you excuse us, my dear? I'd like to have a

word with Lord Skeeve."

Massha glanced back and forth between the

General and me, then shrugged.

"Sure thing, Hugh. Gods know I've got enough

to keep me busy for a while. Catch you later, Hot

Shot."

The General closed the door behind her, then

stood regarding me for several moments. Then he

came over to where I was standing and placed

both of his hands on my shoulders.

"Lord Skeeve," he said. "May I be permitted the

privilege of speaking to you, of treating you for a

few moments as if you were my own son ... or

a man under my command in the Army?"

"Certainly, General," I said, genuinely touched.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

207

"Fine," he smiled. "Turn around."

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'Turn around.' Face in the other direc-

tion, if you will."

Puzzled, I turned my back on him and waited.

Suddenly, something slammed into my rear

end, propelling me forward with such force that I

nearly fell, saving myself only by catching my

weight with my hands and one knee.

I was shocked.

Incredible as it seemed, I had every reason to

believe the General had just kicked me in the

rump!

"You kicked me!" I said, still not quite believ-

ing it.

"That's right," Badaxe said calmly. "Frankly,

it's long overdue. I had considered hitting you

over the head, but it seems that lately your brains

are located at the other end."

Grudgingly, I began to believe it.

"But why?" I demanded.

"Because, Lord Skeeve, with all respect and

courtesies due your station and rank, it is my

studied opinion that you've been acting like the

north end of a south-bound horse."

That was clear enough. Surprisingly poetic for a

military man, but clear.

"Could you be a bit more specific?" I said, with

as much dignity as I could muster.

"I'm referring to your possible marriage to

Queen Hemlock, of course," he said. "Or, more

specifically, your difficulty in making up your

mind. You're agonizing over the decision, when

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Robert Asprln

it's obvious to the most casual observer that you

don't want to marry her."

"There are bigger issues at stake here than what

I want, General," I said wearily.

"Bullshit," Badaxe said firmly.

"What?"

"I said 'Bullshit,'" the General repeated, "and I

meant it. What you want is the only issue worth

considering."

I found myself smiling in spite of my depres-

sion.

"Excuse me, General, but isn't that a little

strange coming from you?"

"How so?"

"Well, as a soldier, you've devoted your life to

the rigors of training and combat. The whole

military system is based on self-sacrifice and self-

denial, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Badaxe said. "Has it occurred to

you, though, that it's simply a means to an end?

The whole idea of being prepared for combat is to

be able to defend or exert what you want against

what someone else wants."

I sat up straight.

"I never thought of it that way."

"It's the only way to think of it," the General

said, firmly. "Oh, I know a lot of people see a

soldier's life as being subservient. That it's the

role of a mindless robot subject to the nonsensical

orders and whims of his superior officers . . .

including Generals. The fact is that an army has

to be united in purpose, or it's ineffectual. Each

man in it voluntarily agrees to follow the chain of

command because it's the most effective way to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

209

achieve a common goal. A soldier who doesn't

know what he wants or why he's fighting is

worthless. Even worse, he's a danger to anyone

and everyone who's counting on him."

He paused, then shook his head.

"For the moment, however, let's consider this

on a smaller scale. Think of a young man who

trains himself so that he won't be bullied by older,

larger men. He lifts weights to develop his muscles,

studies various forms of armed and unarmed com-

bat, and practices long hard hours with one objec-

tive in mind: To harden himself to where he won't

have to knuckle under to anyone."

The General smiled.

"What would you say, then, if that same young

man subsequently let every pipsqueak and bravo

shove him around because he was afraid he'd hurt

them if he pushed back?"

"I'd say he was a bloody idiot."

"Yes," Badaxe nodded. "You are."

"Me?"

"Certainly," the General said, starting to look a

little vexed. "Didn't you recognize yourself in the

picture I just described?"

"General," I said, wearily, "I haven't gotten

much sleep for several days now. Forgive me if

I'm not tracking at my normal speed, but you're

going to have to spell it out for me."

"Very well. I spoke about a young man building

himself up physically. Well, you, my young friend,

are probably the most formidable man I know."

"I am?"

"Beyond a doubt. What's more, like the young

man in my example, you've built yourself up over

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Robert Asprin

the years . . . even in the time I've known you.

With your magikal skills and wealth, not to

mention your allies, supporters, and contacts, you

don't have to do anything you don't want to.

What's more, you've proved that time and time

again against some very impressive opposition."

He smiled and laid a surprisingly gentle hand

on my shoulder.

"And now you tell me that you have to marry

Hemlock even though you don't want to? I don't

believe it."

"Well, the option is that she abdicates and I'm

stuck with being king," I said, bitterly. "I want

that even less."

"Then don't do that, either," the General

shrugged. "How is anyone going to force you to do

either if you don't voluntarily go along with it? I

know I wouldn't want the job."

His simple analysis gave me a thread of hope,

but I was still reluctant to grab for it.

"But people are counting on me," I protested.

"People are counting on you to do what is right

for you." Badaxe said firmly. "Though it's hard for

you to see, they're assuming that you'll do what

you want to do. You should have listened more

closely to what my bride to be was saying to you.

If you want to marry Queen Hemlock, they'll

support you by not standing in the way or giving

you grief. Do you really think, though, that if you

firmly state that you want to continue working

with them, that they won't support that with as

much or more enthusiasm? That's what Massha

was trying to say, but I think she was saying it too

gently for you to hear. Everyone's been too gentle

SWEET MYTH-TEHY OF LIFE

211

with you. Since you don't seem to know what you

want, they've been walking on eggshells around

you to let you sort it out. In the meantime, you've

been straining to hear what everyone else wants

rather than simply relaxing and admitting what

you want."

I couldn't suppress my smile.

"Well, General," I said, "if there's one thing no

one could accuse you of, it would be of not

treating me overly gently."

"It seemed appropriate."

"That wasn't a complaint," I laughed. I was

feeling good now, and didn't bother trying to hide

it. "It was admiration . . . and thanks."

I extended my hand. He gathered it into his

own and we exchanged a single, brief shake that

sealed a new level in our friendship.

"I take it that you've reached your decision

then?" Badaxe said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Affirmative," I smiled. "And your guess as to

what it is would be correct. Thank you, sir. I hope

it goes without saying that I'd like to return the

favor sometime, should the opportunity present

itself."

"Hmmm ... If you could, perhaps, show a

little greater interest in the plans for the wed-

ding," the General said. "Particularly if you could

come up with a way to shorten the planning

procedure?"

"I can shorten today's session," I said. "Give

Massha my apologies, but I feel the need to meet

with Queen Hemlock. Perhaps we can continue

the session tomorrow."

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Robert Asprin

"That isn't shortening the process/' Badaxe

scowled. "It's prolonging it."

"Sorry, General/' I laughed, heading out the

back door. "The only other suggestion I'd have is

to convince her to elope. I'll hold the ladder for

you."

Chapter Nineteen:

"There must be fifty ways to leave

your lover!"

P. SIMON

MY MIND FINALLY made up at last, I set out to give

the news to Queen Hemlock. I mean, since she

was waiting for a decision from me, it wouldn't

be right to delay sharing it once it had been made.

Right? The fact that if I waited too long, I might

chicken out entirely had nothing to do with it.

Right?

Suddenly, I was very aware of the absence of my

bodyguards. When I had given them their assign-

ment to distribute my unwanted cash, it had been

under the assumption that I was in no particular

danger while here at the palace.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

I had noticed back when we first met, when I

was masquerading as King Rodrick, that Queen

Hemlock had a nasty, perhaps even a murderous

streak in her. There had been no evidence of it

213

214

Robert Asprin

lately, but then again, I wasn't aware of her having

received any bad news of a degree such as I was

bringing her, either.

I shook my head and told myself I was being

silly. At her worst, the Queen was not taken to

open, unpremeditated violence. If it looked like

she was taking the news badly, I could simply

gather the crew and skip off to another dimension

before she could get around to formulating a plan

for revenge. There was absolutely no reason for

me to need bodyguards to protect me from her.

Right?

I was still trying to convince myself of this

when I reached the Queen's chambers. The honor

guard standing outside her door snapped to atten-

tion, and it was too late for a graceful retreat.

Moving with a casualness I didn't feel, I knocked

on her door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Skeeve, Your Majesty. I was wondering if I

might speak to you if it's not inconvenient?"

There was a pause, long enough for me to get

my hope up, and then the door opened.

"Lord Skeeve. This is a pleasant surprise. Please,

come right in."

Queen Hemlock was dressed in a simple orange

gown, which was a pleasant surprise. That she

was dressed, that is, not the color of it. The first

time she had entertained me in her quarters, she

had been naked when she opened the door, and it

had put me at an uncomfortable disadvantage for

that conversation. This time around, I figured I

was going to need all the advantages I could

muster.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

215

"Your Majesty," I said, entering the room. I

looked about quickly as she was shutting the

door, and, when she turned, gestured toward a

chair. "Please, if you could take a seat?"

She raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but

took the indicated seat without argument.

"What's this all about, Skeeve?" she said. "You

look so solemn."

There was no way of stalling further, so I

plunged in.

"I wanted to let you know that I've made my

decision regarding marrying you," I said.

"And that is?"

"I ... Your Majesty, I'm both honored and

flattered that you would consider me worthy of

being your consort. I had never dreamed that such

a possibility existed, and, when it was suggested,

had to take time to examine the concept."

"And . . ." she urged.

I realized that no amount of sugar coating

would change the basic content of my decision, so

I simply went for it.

"My final conclusion," I said, "is that I'm not

ready for marriage at this time ... to you or

anyone else. To try to pretend otherwise would be

a vast disservice to that person . . . and to myself.

Between my work and studies as a magician, and

my desire to travel and visit other dimensions, I

simply have no time or interest in settling down

right now. If I did, I would doubtless end up

resenting whoever or whatever had forced me to

do so. As such, I fear I must decline your kind

offer."

Having said it, I braced myself for her reaction.

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Robert Asprin

"Okay," she said.

I waited for a moment for her to continue, but

when she didn't, I felt compelled to.

"As to your abdicating the throne to me . . .

Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. I have no

qualifications or desire to be the ruler of a kingdom.

At best, I'm a good advisor . . . and even that's

only with the considerable help of my colleagues

and friends. I fear that if I were to attempt to

undertake such a responsibility, the kingdom

would suffer badly ... I know I would . . .

and . . . and . . ."

My oration ground to a halt as I saw that she

was laughing.

"Your Majesty? Excuse me. Did I say something

funny?"

"Oh Skeeve," she gasped, coming up for air.

"Did you really think ... Of course I'm not

going to give up the throne. Are you kidding? I

love being Queen."

"You do? But you said . . ."

"Oh, I say lots of things," she said, waving a

negligent hand. "One of the nice things about

being royalty is that you get to decide for yourself

which of the things you say are for real and which

should be ignored."

To say the least, I was confused.

"Then why did you say that if you didn't intend

to follow through?" I said. "And how about your

marriage proposal? Didn't you mean that, ei-

ther?"

"Oh, I meant it all right," she smiled. "But I

didn't really expect you to want to marry me. I

mean, why should you? You've already got wealth

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

217

and power without being tied down to a throne or

a wife. Why should you want to stay here and play

second banana to me when you could be off

hopping around the world or wherever it is that

you go as the one and only Great Skeeve? It would

have been fabulous lor me and the kingdom to

have you tied into us permanently, but there

weren't any real benefits for you. That's why I

came up with that abdication thing."

"Abdication thing?" I echoed weakly.

"Sure. I knew you didn't want to be a king. If

you had, you would have kept the throne back

when Roddie had you pose as him. Anyway, I

figured that if you didn't want it bad enough, it

just might make a big enough threat to lure you

into playing consort for me instead."

She made a little face.

"I know it was weak, but it was the only card I

had to play. What else could I do? Threaten you?

With what? Even it I managed to come up with

something that would present a threat to you and

that menagerie of yours, all you'd have to do is

wave your hands and blink off to somewhere else.

It simply wouldn't be worth the effort and expense

to keep tracking you down ... no offense. Going

with the abdication thing, I at least had a chance of

getting you to consider marrying me . . . and if

nothing came of it, no harm done."

I thought of the days and nights I had been

spending agonizing over my decision. Then I

thought about throttling the Queen.

"No harm done," I agreed.

"So," she said, settling back in her chair, "that's

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Robert Asprin

that. No marriage, no abdication. At least we can

still be friends, can't we?"

"Friends? "I blinked.

Even though I had met her some time back, I

had never really thought of Queen Hemlock as a

friend.

"Why not?" she shrugged. "If I can't have you

as a consort, I'm willing to give it a try as a friend.

From what I've seen, you're pretty loyal to your

friends, and I'd like to have some tie to you."

"But why should that be important to you?

You're a Queen, and the ruler of a fairly vast

kingdom to boot."

Hemlock cocked her head at me curiously.

"You really don't know, do you Skeeve? You're

quite a powerful man yourself, Skeeve. I'd much

rather have you as an ally, to the kingdom and for

myself, than as an enemy. If you check around, I

think you'll find a lot of people who would."

That sounded remarkably like what Badaxe had

pointed out to me earlier.

"Besides," the Queen added, "you're a nice guy,

and I don't really have many friends. You know,

people I can talk to as equals who aren't afraid of

me? I think in the long run, we have more

problems in common than you realize."

"Except I'm in a better position to still be able

to do what I want," I finished thoughtfully.

"Don't rub it in," Hemlock said, wrinkling her

nose. "Well, what do you say? Friends?"

"Friends," I smiled.

On an impulse, I took her hand and kissed it

lightly, then stood holding it for a few moments.

"If I may, Your Majesty, let me add my personal

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

219

thanks to you for taking my refusal so well? Even

if you more than half expected it, it still must

have stung your pride a bit. It must have been

tempting to make me squirm a little in return."

The Queen threw back her head and laughed

again.

"It wouldn't be real smart of me to give you a

rough time, now, would it?" she said. "As I said

before, you can be a real help to the kingdom,

Skeeve, even if it only means hiring you occasion-

ally as an independent contractor. If I made you

feel too bad about not marrying me, then you

wouldn't ever want to see me or the kingdom

again."

"I really don't know," I admitted. "The court of

Possiltum gave me my first paying job as a magi-

cian. I'll probably always have a bit of a soft spot

for it. Then, too, Your Majesty is not without

charm as a woman."

That last bit sort of slipped out, but the Queen

didn't seem to mind.

"Just not quite charming enough to settle down

with, eh?" she smiled. "Well, let me know when

you have some leisure time on your hands, and

maybe we can explore some alternatives together."

That really took me aback.

"Ahh . . . certainly, Your Majesty. In the mean-

time, however, I fear it's nearly time for my

colleagues and I to take our leave of Possiltum.

From what Grimble tells me, the kingdom is

nearly back on solid financial footing, and there

are pressing matters which require our attention

elsewhere."

"Of course," she said, rising to her feet. "Go

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Robert Asprin

with my personal gratitude, as well as the fees

you so richly deserve. I'll be in touch."

I was so uncomfortable about the reference to

our fees, that I was nearly to the door before her

last comment sank in.

"Umm . . . Your Majesty?" I said, turning back

to her. "One more thing. Next time you need me,

could you just write a note like everyone else

instead of sending me a finger? It was a bit unnerv-

ing when it arrived."

"No problem," she said. "By the way, could I

have the finger back? If nothing else, I'd like to

have the ring to remember Roddie by."

"I thought you had it." I frowned. "I haven't

seen it since our conversation when I first got

back here."

"Hmm ... I wonder where it's gotten to. Oh

well, I'll put the maids to work looking for it. If

you happen to come across it in your things, be a

dear and send it back to me?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty. Goodbye."

With that, I gave her my deepest bow and left.

Chapter Twenty:

"Meanwhile, back at reality ..."

G. LUCAS

I FELT AS if a huge weight had been lifted from my

back! For the first time since my return from

Perv, I was in control of my own destiny!

No more wondering about what I should or

shouldn't do about marrying Queen Hemlock for

the good of the kingdom, or the good of the

team ... or the good of civilization, for that

matter. Things were back in perspective! My

future was mine to do with as I wished, without

the pressure of trying to sort out what was best for

others.

I found myself whistling to myself as I strode

through the castle corridors, something I hadn't

done in a long while, and had to fight the temp-

tation to break into a jig.

As soon as that realization hit, that I was

resisting a temptation, I immediately did a little

hop-skip.

221

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Robert Asprin

I was through trying to judge everything I

did on whether or not other people thought it

was proper ... or, more specifically, whether I

thought other people would think it was proper.

From now on, I was going to do what / wanted to

do ... and the rest of the world, or the dimen-

sions at large, could just bloody well adapt!

With that decision, I threw in an extra high

kick. It may not have been classic dance, but it

felt good. Heck! / felt good. Better than I could

ever remember feeling.

I became aware of a couple people staring at me

from afar, and a few more craning their necks for

a better look. Rather than feeling embarrassed or

self-conscious, I waved at them gaily and contin-

ued my prancing.

I had to tell someone! Share my new-found

happiness with my friends. They had all stood by

me through the bad times. Now I wanted to be

with them when I felt good!

I'd tell Bunny ... no, Aahz! I'd tell Aahz first

and then Bunny. My partner deserved to be the

first to know.

"Hey Boss! Skeeve!"

I turned to see Nunzio beckoning me from the

other end of the corridor. I was surprised to see him,

and started to wave. Then it dawned on me that

this was the first time he had ever called me to

join him instead of the other way around. A

feeling of alarm swept away my earlier euphoria.

"Come quick, Boss! It's important!"

My fears were confirmed. Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

I hurried to join him, but he moved off down

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

223

corridor ahead of me, looking back from time

:o time to see if I was following.

"Wait for me, Nunzio!" I called.

"Hurry, Boss!" he replied, not slackening his

pace.

I was starting to get a bit winded trying to catch

up with him, but if anything he seemed to be

increasing his speed. Then he ducked down a

flight of stairs, and an idea came to me.

When I reached the stairs, instead of descending

normally, I vaulted over the railing and used my

magik to fly (which is really levitation in reverse)

after him. This seemed to be a bit faster than

running, and certainly a lot easier on the lungs, so

I kept it up. I managed to catch my breath and

catch up with my bodyguard just as we were

emerging into the palace courtyard.

"What's this all about, Nunzio?" I said, slowing

my speed to match his pace.

Instead of answering, he pointed ahead.

There was a group of people gathered in the

courtyard. Some were guards or other people I had

seen around the palace, but there also seemed to

be a batch of costumed characters with them.

Then I saw Guido and Pookie in the group . . .

and Aahz!

"Hey Aahz! What's happening?" I called.

At the sound of my voice, the whole group

looked in my direction, then fell back slightly

and . . .

And then I saw what they were gathered around.

"GLEEP!"

My pet dragon was lying on his side, showing

no sign of his usual energy and life.

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Robert Asprin

I don't recall landing ... or of moving at all. I

just remember crouching at my pet's side and

gathering his head into my lap.

"What's wrong, fellah?" I said, but got no re-

sponse. "Aahz? What's the matter with him?"

"Skeeve, I ..." my partner began, but then I

saw it.

Protruding from Gleep's side, just behind his

leg, was an arrow!

At that moment, I felt my pet stir in my arms,

weakly trying to raise his head.

"Take it easy, fellah," I said, trying to sound

soothing.

Gleep's eyes found mine.

"Skeeve?" he said faintly, then went limp, his

head falling back on my lap.

He had said my name! The first thing he had

ever said other than the sound that had given him

his name.

I carefully eased his head onto the ground and

rose. I stood looking down at him for several

moments, then raised my eyes to the surrounding

crowd. I don't know what my expression was, but

they all gave ground several steps as my gaze

passed over them.

When I spoke, I tried to keep my voice soft and

level, but it seemed to come from far away.

"All right," I said. "I want to know what's been

going on here . . . and I want to know now!!"

Indeed, what has been going on while Skeeve was

preoccupied? Here is an advance peek at the next

MythAdventure!

SOMETHING M.Y.T.H. INC.

Robert Asprin

Prologue

Like wildfire, word spread throughout the land . . .

from town to village, from peddlar to peasant. . .

that their once idyllic kingdom was now under the

control of a mighty magician who held the Queen

in thrall

Though it was customary for the common folk

to pay little attention to who it was that ruled

them, much less the antics and machinations of

palace politics, this time it was different.

It was clear to even a casual observer that the

magician dabbled in the Black Arts. He openly

associated with and sought counsel from de-

mons, who even now roamed the corridors of the

palace. As further evidence of his other-worldly

nature and preferences, the magician kept a fierce

dragon as a pet . . . a rarity that even the ani-

mal-loving ecologists of the land found disquiet-

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