“Thanks, Prime Minister,” they chorused. “Forget the soap,” I snarled. “We need to get. out of here.”
“Courtesy is never misplaced, Mister Aahz,” Matfany told me reproachfully. “Down here, now. We'll go out through the gardens.”
We hurried out through the rear door of the kitchens, out past a stinking heap of garbage, through the herb gar-den and out into a wide green expanse lined with grace-fully swaying trees. I hurtled down the broad stone steps heading for the gate at the rear of the extensive grounds and immediately sank up to my ankles
“What is this?” I bellowed. The green lawn swirled around my calves.
“Why, it's swamp, sir,” Matfany said. “We are Swamp Foxes. This is our heritage.”
“You can't run in this... muck! You can't even walk!”
“If you want to run, you need to stick to the hum-mocks.”
“Why do the kings and queens live like this?” I asked, outraged. “You could fill all that in and have great, rolling meadows! This isn't a garden, it's a compost heap. You've got nice dry streets in town!”
“Dry land is for tourists, sir,” Matfany said. He trotted ahead of me as lightly as a feather. Grumbling, I picked myself up and followed in his footsteps. Contrary to what I thought when I first sloshed out into the yard, there were solid lumps in it. His stride was a lot longer than mine was, so I missed my footing more than once. My dapper clothes were soaked and striped with green goo by the time we got to the rear of the property. Guido didn't say anything, but I could see by the look on his face what he thought of having his beautiful, pin-striped suit redecorated by Swamps “R” Us. Tananda, the only one of us with magikal talent, tripped lightly over the meadow like a soap bubble. I wished I could go back in time and shoot Garkin again for taking away my powers.
The sun was going down. Thanks to Tananda's light spell, we were able to see where we were going. I almost wished we couldn't. Matfany led us under low-hanging tree branches and over ridges of stone, but all of the land underfoot was wet, wet, wet. Stinging insects took advan-tage of the fact I had to pay more attention to my footing than swatting them to wriggle under my scales. Guido and Tananda, whose soft skins were more vulnerable than mine, scratched and slapped at their own insect hordes.
“How much more of the World of Mildew do we have to cover before we get there?” I asked, heaving each leg labo-riously out of stinking humus. I slapped at a cloud of gnats that was gnawing on my neck.
Matfany negotiated a foot-wide bridge over a gurgling stream. “Their domain is deep in the marshlands.”
“So, when you die you don't go to the gates of heaven, you go to the fens?” I grinned, hoping someone would get the pun.
Matfany regarded me solemnly. “To our ancestors, this is our bit of heaven.”
The next branch he let go of hit me in the face. Some people just don't appreciate good humor.
“Aahz, we're bein' followed,” Guido muttered in my ear.
“Who's back there?” I asked. I didn't ask how he knew.
Guido had survival training from a number of special or-ganizations including the Mob. and well-honed instincts.
“Can't say yet.” He touched his breast pocket. “I saw a shadow as we went over the last hill. Somethin' low-slung with lots of legs. Kinda looks familiar, but I can't place it yet. I'll tell Tananda we oughta be ready to rumble.”
Once Guido mentioned it. I started to feel eyes on the back of my neck. In the undergrowth. I thought I saw glow-ing eyes following our every move.
Pervects don't believe in ghosts. If we have an afterlife. I guess we feel that it's none of anyone else's business. As far as I know none of my ancestors has bothered to come back and tell any of its descendants what it's like. And. if heaven's not a place of unlimited comfort, wealth, food, booze, sex, and entertainment. I'm not sure I care. Outside of Perv, things are different. I know Klahds believe in dis-embodied spirits, evidence notwithstanding. This was the first place I had visited where the nonliving existed side by side with the living as if there was little difference between the two states.
The trees opened out a little, revealing more extensive stretches of green sludge. Now there seemed to be signs of habitation. In the twilight I saw the outlines of houses, some grand and stately, others no more than shacks. They all shimmered in a haze of blue I put down to the gigantic moon rising just above the line of trees.
“Who lives there?” I asked, pointing to one of the elab-orate mansions.
“No one,” Matfany replied.
“Okay,” I said, caught in my own linguistic trap. “Who occupies it?”
“That'd be the third Lord Protector of the Marshes,” Matfany said. “He lived about fifteen hundred and twenty years ago. Most of his family is there, too.”
“How about that one?” I pointed at a falling-down shanty with smoke curling out of the spindly chimney.
“Last king but two. Cornelius V never had much use for fancy things. Fishing's good, that's all he cares about.”
“And who are we going to see?” Tananda asked. “Whoever will talk to us,” Matfany said. “Keep an eye out for the fox fire. That's where they'll be.” “What's fox fire?” I asked.
We stepped through an arching avenue of mangrove trees that blotted out the moon. I kept close to Tananda's light. The footing was tricky. It looked like there was only one path that didn't dump pedestrians into the soup. Mat-fany jumped from hummock to tussock to slippery, moss-covered rock. I heard a curse and a splash behind me, which meant Guido had missed at least one of them. All of us, except the prime minister, had gotten soaked numerous times.
We emerged on the other side. I had to squint at the blinding blaze of blue light that filled the clearing ahead. “That's fox fire,” Matfany said.
Glimmering figures began to rise out of the ground un-til I felt like the only unlit candle on top of a birthday cake. In outline they were Swamp Foxes, but when I stuck a hand through one, all I felt was the dank, cold air.
“And those are the Old Folks.”
Myth 18 - MythChief
THIRTY -ONE
Their insubstantiality only cut one way. The Old Folks grabbed us and hauled us into the middle of the brilliant blue light, which just happened to correspond exactly with the soggiest and stinkiest part of the marshland. At least they found us a relatively solid piece of turf to stand on, but it was so small that Tananda, Guido, and I were practi-cally doing a group hug to keep from toppling off it into the mire. Bubbling black mud opened up belching bubbles of swamp gas that smelled like a bar at the end of a nine-day drunk. My eyes watered, but I kept my tone friendly and diplomatic.
“Nice place you've got here,” I told the towering flames who guarded me, “Great weather we're having, huh?”
They didn't answer me.
Matfany stood a few yards away, surrounded by a halo of blue-light specials. These were more defined in shape than the majority of Old Folks. Between their triangular ears they had crowns on their heads, and the streams of ectoplasm that trailed behind them were embroidered.
fur-trimmed cloaks. Even with my keen hearing, I had to strain to listen to what they were saying to him.
“You have violated the sanctity of our wilderlands, and for what?” one long-nosed queen demanded. “For ordinary cash money?”
“I had little choice, your highness,” Matfany said, with a bow. “Our resources are depleted.”
“Our resources are endless,” a broad-faced king boomed in a surprisingly low voice. “You just needed to be patient. Instead, you have interfered with the line of succession.”
“I'm very sorry you see it that way,” Matfany said. “I don't need to tell you that there have been three different lines of royal house here in Foxe-Swampburg.”
“But she isn't dead! My daughter doesn't have to be the last of her line!” insisted a tenor. He retained more of his shape than even his fellow royals. Matfany looked st
artled, then bowed deeply.
“King Tinian ... I'm honored,”
“Well, you shouldn't be,” he said. “Prime ministers serve. They don't rule. If I had realized that you would ever have done such a thing as depose my daughter, I would never have promoted you out of the accounting of-fice!”
“What were you thinking, letting those rude Deveels do that to the Mountains Above Town?” the deep-voiced ghost asked. “What a mess they made. And where do they go calling The Tallest Peak after a Geek?”
“Let me explain,” I said, pushing forward. I felt my leg go halfway into the mud before Guido hauled me
back onto the squashed marshmallow we occupied. “Don't blame Matfany. You know Deveels. You give them an inch; they take a mile. I can fix the problem. Just give us a chance. All we need is a little time for them to feel they've gotten their money's worth, then I'll make them take down all the signs and the rest of the junk.”
The Old Folks turned away from Matfany and stared at me. The glowing sapphire eyes were hard to maintain con-tact with for long. I kept an affable smile on my face.
“I am no! sure,” the deep-voiced king said, “that we will do any better to depend on a Pervert than on De-veels”
“That's Per-VECT,” I said, holding on to my temper. “And it's not just me that Matfany hired to haul your cojones out of the cooker. There are also my associates.”
Tananda leaned out from behind me to give them a little wave. “Klahds and Trollops,” Tinian said in disgust.
“Now, wait just a minute,” I said. “We're M.Y.T.H., Inc. Maybe you're too far back in ancient history to have heard of us, but we have a reputation for helping people. Effec-tively.”
“For money.”
“Only a fool works for nothing, pal,” I snarled. “Yeah, maybe your boy here made some stupid decisions, but he did what he had to with the best intentions. You want to keep your descendants on the throne without problem-solvers on your staff, then make sure they go to business school before they take the crown. They'll have to learn that what goes out has to come in first.”
Fingernails dug into my wrist.
“Aahz, maybe the firm approach isn't the best one here?” Tananda whispered to me. I noticed that the shim-mering gas flames had moved just a little closer.
“So you think that being ignorant is worthy of being condemned to death?” the long-nosed female asked me.
“Stupidity is the only capital crime in the universe, honey,” I said. “It's always punishable by death. Commutation comes by way of mercy or pure dumb luck. Matfany here needs to learn to control his temper, but he was smart enough to know he needed help.”
“And you think that letting other people take over our landscape is the way out of the problem?”
“If we hadn't had a creative solution, other people would have taken over the landscape, and not in name only. I've seen your books. I haven't seen so much red ink since I read a copyedited manuscript of the last tell-all celebrity autobiography. You're not happy about it, but isn't it up to the living to find their way out of their own jams? You had your shot. It's up to them, now.”
Matfany cleared his throat. “Your highnesses, I have given my word to these out-of-towners that they are al-lowed to commit some temporary depredations on our fair country for a time. I will hold to my word. That is the only honorable thing to do. I ask that you hold back from caus-ing trouble for them for the period of the contracts.”
The flames went into a huddle.
“His word? What if he did give his word? What's that got to do with us?”
“Well, if we have no honor, then we have nothing,” Tin-ian said. “I did trust this fellah enough to give him the top post. That means that his word is my word.”
“But what about his temper? I don't like it that he can boil over like that and cause such a constitutional crisis all at once. The royal house is the royal house. While a scion of it is living, she is the rightful monarch and should be back here at home where she belongs, not hiding out in some Klahdish manor house that calls itself a castle.”
Possiltum, I thought with a smirk, filing away the fact for future use. Maybe I should arrange for a mob of ador-ing fans to descend on her there. Hemlock hates crowds. She'll throw Hermalaya out faster than that week's trash. That'll show Skeeve.
“It's a pretty smart thing to do, getting people to pay for nothing.”
“I don't like anybody messing up our mountains and piers like that.”
“Well, you see how it backfired.”
“That boy couldn't have known It would.” King Tinian said. “The mistake he made was over my daughter.”
“That's true. Lucky for him that's the easiest thing to remedy.” The huddle broke, and the ghostly figures drifted to-ward us.
“So, what's the good news?” I asked, heartily. “Let us finish up clearing your books, and in no time Foxe-Swampburg will be back to its good, old tourist-trap self. How about it?”
The deep-voiced ghost came to look me straight in the eye.
“Well, Mister Per-vect, we can't undo what has been done, but we can prevent any further mistakes being made by the same people, namely you all. When you don't come back, another generation of problem-solvers will arise in Foxe-Swampburg. We will guide them, but as you say, it's up to them. I hope they will be able to restore the pride that our kingdom has had in itself all these generations.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “What do you mean, when we don't come back? We're not staying here. This was a cour-tesy call. I don't need your cooperation. You can keep throwing Salamanders off walls if you want to, but I will find a way to get Foxe-Swampburg's finances back in or-der, with or without your help!”
“I think you can say it's without our help,” King Tinian said.
The long-nosed female smiled at us fetchingly. “You all should make yourselves just as comfortable as you can. You're going to be here for a while.”
Cold water rolled up onto my insteps. I felt the semi-solid mass under our feet start to dissolve. I tried shifting to another part of the hummock, but it slid away. Hastily, I felt around for anything solid I could stand on. Guido, al-ready up to his knees, held Tananda in his arms, keeping her up out of the mud. Matfany, out of my reach, was also starting to sink.
“Get us out of here, Tananda,” I said. “I lost my D-hopper on the hill.” “I'll try. There's some weird interference here.” She clapped her hands together. Nothing happened. She
looked dismayed. “Something is sapping my magik. There's plenty of power here, but I can't get to it.” “It's no use fighting,” said the deep-voiced ghost. “Your time in the material plane is ended.”
“Hey!” I yelled at the royal spirits. “What about all that we've done for your people! Doesn't that count for any-thing?”
“No, sir,” the voices said. “We believe you have done enough for Foxe-Swampburg. Now, this won't hurt a bit. It may feel kind of odd, but after a while you won't even re-member about it.”
The glimmer dissipated, leaving us alone in the dark.
My weight pressing into the slime was beginning to turn my trouser cuffs inside out. I'd been in mud and quicksand before. It was better to go horizontal, as dis-gusting as that was, and spread out my weight, than to re-main vertical and let it drag me under. I flattened out with my arms spread.
“Try and lie on the surface,” I said. “We can try to swim to the edge.”
“Ugh!” Tananda exclaimed, bobbing next to me. “I'll never take mud baths at the spa again.”
“Somethin's got my foot!” Guido said.
“Mine, too,” Matfany said.
“What lives in these swamps?” I asked.
“Crocogators, but what you really have to look out for are the marsh squids. They'll wrap you up like a holiday bundle and eat you a piece at a time.”
“That's what I saw on back there,” Guido said. As soon as
he said it, a huge tentacle broke the surface and threw itself over Matfany. “Swim for it, friends,” he said, as it wrapped itself around his shoulders. “I'm doomed.”
'No, you're not,“ Guido said. ”We don't let clients get eaten by invertebrates." He splashed toward the Reynardan. Tananda kicked after him, drawing a dagger out of who knew where in her clothing. I groaned and followed, but I didn't get far. The next tentacle that erupted wound itself around my leg. It dropped back into the mud and started to pull me down with it.
“Tananda, get out of here,” I said, struggling to stay on the surface. “I can't go and leave you!” “You're the only one with enough magik to escape. Beat it! Get help! Hurry up!” The last sound I heard before my ears filled with mud was BAMF!
Myth 18 - MythChief
THIRTY -TWO
“Money isn't everything.” D. TRUMP
( felt pretty miserable after Aahz confronted me in the of-fice. I could put up with his bombast and his ridicule, but not false accusations. He wasn't playing fair! It really hurt that the others seemed to believe
him more than they did me, I wasn't used to that.
Maybe I really should go back to the inn in Klah when Hermalaya was back on her throne. It was lonely, but I wouldn't have to worry about being lied to by anybody but merchants. I could trust Gleep and Buttercup to be my true friends while I figured out exactly what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Bunny could stay in Deva, or go wherever she wanted to. She was a much more social per-son than I was. She didn't need to share my exile one more time. I was grateful for all the time she had devoted to keeping me sane.
In the meantime, what Hermalaya needed far out-stripped my need to lick my wounds. As soon as I could, I started making the rounds again of the people who had turned me down for an interview when the Aahz-inspired Cake knockoffs started coming out.
I was getting used to doors being slammed in my face, so much so that when Elliora, a Leprechaun financier from Ayer, said yes, I almost walked out anyhow. She dropped a loop of magik around me and hauled me back to her desk She was a plumpish female about half my height with an upturned nose, tilted green eyes, and shining silver hair pulled back in a long braid. Freckles were scattered across her nose. The gold that the Leprechauns were so famous for was evident in her parlor. Bureau knobs, inkwells, even picture frames were made of solid gold.
Myth 18 - MythChief Page 19