“Don't worry,” Aahz said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We'll take care of that. He doesn't have to do a thing. I have it all worked out.”
Myth 18 - MythChief
THIRTY -SEVEN
“One little piece of cake won't kill me.” M. ANTOINETTE “I still don't see why I have to be the bad guy,” I grumbled. “He was your client.”
“We're working together now,” Aahz said. “This is for the common good of Foxe-Swampburg. How's the advance publicity going?”
Massha gave us a wicked grin.
“I started rumors in at least sixty bookstores that Her-malaya was going to defy the evil prime minister and turn up in Foxe-Swampburg tomorrow afternoon. If the re-sponse I got was any indication, then thousands of people are going to show up just to see if it's true.”
“Great,” Aahz said. “The more the merrier. I want the place packed. I made a deal with the Geek and a few of our sponsors to sell souvenirs just outside the castle gates. It's a small way of making up for taking down all their bill-boards.”
“Is anyone selling copies of The Princess's Diary?” Bunny asked. “I hate for Hermalaya to miss out on the best-motivated crowd she's ever going to get.”
“Special order from the printer,” Aahz said. “The Paper Wasps promised they'd churn out a thousand copies by dawn tomorrow, or they'd have to eat them. What about security? I don't want any trigger-happy yahoo thinking he can pick up a bounty from Matfany on the princess, or vice versa.”
Guido lifted a finger. “We're set. I lined up some of our friends to act as on-the-ground security inside and outside the castle. Pookie's in charge of the force in the building and overhead. Gus has a day off from the Golden Crescent, so I put him in as group captain in the courtyard.”'
“Great,” I said. “I was hoping to throw some work his way.” “How's our star doing?” Aahz asked, checking off one more item from his list.
“Letter-perfect,” Nunzio said. “She knows the script better than I do. She's started correcting me when I read something wrong. What a lady! She's no more nervous than a statue. She is ready to go.”
So was I. We had spent the last few days working on this plan. Aahz had pretty much taken over, as I figured he would, leaving me with nothing much to do. I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, or if the group was just used to working without me as it had been for months. I was los-ing hope that I could find a way to be relevant to the com-pany as it had grown up. Everybody was being nice to me, but it wasn't the same as involving me.
Still, I played an important role in the event itself. My job was to maintain all the magik we needed for our sub-terfuge, including disguises. I was eager to prove once and for all to my friends that I was the person they wanted to work for again.
We sneaked into Foxe-Swampburg early the next morn-ing. I couldn't have asked for better weather. According to
Hermalaya. it was the beginning of spring. If there was birdsong, I couldn't hear it over the buzz of excited visi-tors. The courtyard was packed with people, mostly Swamp Foxes, but lots and lots of tourists of all races. I couldn't have been more delighted.
“Are you ready'.'” I asked the princess, as we watched the milling throng from behind a curtain in the balcony that overlooked the castle's front door.
“I had better be,” Hermalaya said. She looked magnifi-cent. She wore a plain white-silk gown under a royal pur-ple cloak edged with silver fur and jewels. On her head was a small crown with one fist-sized golden gem in the center that had made Aahz moan with greed when he saw it. “As they say, first impressions are the most important.”
Massha came over to us with one of her bracelets buzz-ing.
“Everybody else is ready,” she said.
“Then I'd better get set,” I said. I closed my eyes and gathered up plenty of magik from the strong red force line that arched over the castle. Whoever had built this place knew what he or she was doing. My internal storage filled up in one breath.
I pictured Matfany's face and body, wearing an elegant black suit embroidered in silver, with a vent in the back for his bushy tail. I drew the image over me, until it took the place of my own face. I heard a gasp from Hermalaya.
“Why, you look just like him? It's amazing.”
“All part of the service, your highness,” I said. “All right, Massha.”
She enveloped us both in a smothering, perfumed hug. “Good luck, honey! Knock 'em dead, Big Shot.”
“Thanks. Go on, your highness. When you hear the fanfare, step through the curtain.”
Matfany had given his personal orders to the royal trumpeters. At exactly midmorning, they appeared on the castle steps, pointed their instruments to the sky, and blew.
Ta-ran-tara! Taran-tara! Ta-ra-ra-ra-rantara! Hermalaya took a deep breath and pushed through the hanging swathes of silk.
The cheer that went up from the crowd was deafening. It was a long ten minutes before she could start her speech.
“My good and gentle people, I am so happy to be back with you again today. It's been a lonely exile, but what has kept me going was thinking about all of you? It was through the graces of true friends that I have managed to return.” She had to halt for cheers about every other line.
I crouched and waited for my cue. “And nothing will ever part me from you again, my be-loved people!” I sprang. The crowd gasped.
“There you are!” I boomed. I had also laid on an aural illusion that gave me Matfany's basso-profundo tones. Many in the crowd booed at me. I did my best to assume the prime minister's gimlet stare. Most of them subsided. I turned back to the princess, who cowered against the side of the arched window. “I warned you what would happen if you returned, princess! Guards! Seize her!”
The curtain parted, and in marched a full contingent of the castle guard, led by the royal wizard. One of them winked as he passed me. I had lined up the loyal opposi-tion, who were delighted to have a part in helping their princess. They had a hard time keeping from grinning. I groaned inwardly. Everybody likes to ham it up.
“No!” the crowd burst out. “Let her alone!” “I decreed if she broke her exile, she must die! Take her away!” The crowd booed as guards surrounded the princess, who did her best to look helpless and forlorn. “Get your hands off that princess!”
From the entrance to the courtyard, Aahz's bellow echoed over the heads of the crowd. They all turned to see who was talking.
The reaction from the people told me I had given Aahz just the right disguise, though I couldn't see it. He ap-peared to be a Reynardan with sable brown fur streaked with gold, wearing a silver-silk tunic and blue breeches. He wore a silver circlet on his head.
“And who are you to defy me, the prime minister of Foxe-Swampburg?” I shouted back. I just didn't have the lungs of a Pervect. I amplified my voice with magik. “And who are you?”
“I am Fanmat, prince of Goodenrich. That lady is the rightful heir to the throne, and I have come to see her put back where she belongs.”
“Oh, sir!” Hermalaya said. “I could surely use your help!”
“That's what I'm here for, little lady!” * A big sigh of relief and pleasure erupted from the audi-ence. I looked down at them all sternly,
“Sir, justice must be done. I am the rightful ruler here now.” “Then you are the one who has to die!” Aahz marched toward me. “And who is going to serve that sentence on me?” I de-manded.
“I am!” He drew a fancy sword from a scabbard on his hilt and waved it around. At least, a sword is what the crowd saw in his hand. It was only a stick that I had disguised, in case anyone tried to take it away from him. We didn't have to worry about that. The onlookers burst into wild cheers and applause.
“Oh, go back, Prince Fanmat,” Hermalaya cried, wring-ing her hands. “He is a formidable opponent.” Aahz struck a pose. “I am not afraid. I'd fight an army for you.” He marched toward us wi
th purpose.
The crowd parted for him. He marched through the courtyard, scowling up at me. When he got close to the steps I shouted down to the guards.
“Close the doors!” BOOM.' The huge metal-clad portals slammed shut. The vibration nearly knocked me off my feet. “There, intruder. Turn back! You can't get in now!” Aahz cheated toward the crowd so they could see his noble jaw set. “You think that will keep me out?” “No!” the mob chorused in unison. “Damned straight.”
Aahz sheathed the sword and took a leap for the arch of stone that enclosed the doorway. I grabbed him with a streamer of magik and helped him look like he was really climbing the face of the castle. The audience couldn't have been more impressed. They were screaming and cheering the higher he got.
That was my cue. I started dropping pillows and small pieces of furniture out of the window onto his head. They bounced off, but he kept coming, stopping every so often to declaim something heroic. Once in a while he glanced up at me with fury rising in his eyes. Even though he had agreed to Chumley's idea that there should be some mis-siles thrown, he still looked madder than a wet Catrabbit by the time I ran
out of ammunition.
He was panting as he got to the top and swung himself over the edge of the balcony.
“Okay, you coward. Now you're going to get what you deserve! With conversation!”
Aahz drew the sword. I, too, drew the weapon at my side.
“Then have at you!” I shouted. “Usurper!”
Aahz swung at my head.
“Intruder!” I yelled.
I threw up my stick. His clacked off it.
“You're a lousy dresser!” he countered.
He drew back slightly, then thrust again. I swung at the tip. I knocked it upward with a wild wave of my arm, then brought my stick down toward Aahz's knee.
“That's rich, coming from a fop like you! What do you know about governing?” “What do you know about the love of the people?”
He dropped his sword on mine with such force that you could hear the echo in the courtyard. My hand tingled, but I just managed to hold on to my stick.
I was no swordsman. Aahz was deliberately moving slowly enough that I could see where his blows were com-ing from. I just did my best to get out of the way. But he couldn't miss the whole time, not with the thousands of people waiting for us I let my guard drop.
“Ow!” The stick poked me hard in the chest. “Gotcha!” Aahz said, with glee.
“Curse yon!” I shouted. That really hurt. Instead of just warding off his strikes, I started swinging wildly. I man-aged to connect, bringing my sword down on top of his head.
“Ouch!” he bellowed. In an undertone, he hissed. “Watch it, kid, I'm the good guy!”
I was fuming. “Oh. yeah? Good guy? Then why did you. try and mess up all the deals I made for Hermalaya? Why did you say all those things about me?”
“It's all in the game, kid!” I felt my temper rise. “I'm not a kid anymore!”
Aahz nodded, his face grim set. “Maybe you're not. But this isn't real. This is a game. Remember? We're playact-ing. This is for her. It's not about you or me. We're not alone. Everybody in the known dimensions is watching. Right'.”'
“Right.” I had to bring my temper under control. Re-member the script! I told myself. It was just a game. After all, who was I really mad at?
Myself. I had caused the breach in the friendship.
I knew in spite of the hurt it had caused that it was necessary to withdraw and learn about myself and my capabilitiesbut I could see how the others, especially Aahz, had taken it as rejection. I vowed it would be differ-ent from now on. I would make this job, and all the other jobs in the future, work for us all.
“You will never defeat me, Fanmat!” “I'll take you to pieces, Matfany!”
I retreated across the gallery. Aahz lunged at me. I stooped and swung my stick low. Aahz jumped over it, and made a cut for my head. I narrowly missed getting brained, and leaped up on the rail. Our “blades” clacked together. I did some fancy footwork, dancing along the narrow band of metal as Aahz peppered my feet with blows.
“Come back here, you coward!” he yelled. “Fanmat! Fanmat! Fanmat!”
I recognized the voice who started the chanting as be-longing to Gus the Gargoyle, but he wasn't chanting alone for long. The mob joined in, bellowing their approval. We had made them believe in our hero.
The guards watched our interplay with approval. A cou-ple of them even seemed to follow our moves with their bodies. The princess, who had long ago forgotten that this was not a real fight, was pressed against the side of the bal-cony, looking terrified.
“All right, kid,” Aahz whispered, “time for the big fin-ish!”
I jumped down, and the two of us closed, our “swords” held above our heads. We turned around and around, him pushing me or me pushing him. The onlookers shouted and moaned or booed, depending on who looked like he was winning. Once I had gotten over my outburst, it was kind of fun.
With a seeming burst of strength, I threw “Fanmat” sprawling backward. I grabbed Hermalaya around the neck, dragged her to me, and put the point of my sword to her throat.
“Her life is forfeit. I will carry out sentence here and now!” “.Never, you evil prime minister!”
Aahz marched toward me, slashing the air with his sword. I cowered backward with my prisoner. Aahz ad-vanced. His blade came up from below and deftly knocked my stick flying end over end into the audience. He grabbed Hermalaya by the hand and swung her out of my arms. He set her on the other side of the window, away from the guards.
“Stay there, babe,” he said. He raised his sword and backed me toward the edge of the balcony. “You're done for, buddy.”
It was my turn to strike a pose.
“I did it all for my kingdom!” I declared.
“I'm sure that'll be a great comfort to your next of kin,” he leered.
He swung at me. I took the blow full in the chest, and remembered to create the illusion of gallons of blood spurt-ing out of the wound. I clutched my chest. I wavered back and forth on the rail.
Then, I fell.
The crowd gasped.
Dropping any distance is no problem for a magician. I was never in any danger as I plummeted toward the court-yard. There were plenty of guards waiting to surround my body. I just figured I would lie there playing dead while Aahz proclaimed his love for the princess, who was being restored to her rightful place on the throne of Foxe-Swampburg. The guards would cover my face with a cloak and carry me inside, as we had arranged in our script.
But instead of the guards, a circle of faces wearing black headcloths and face masks leered down at me. The snick! of Cake servers being drawn was a chilling sound.
“You evil man! We are going to teach you what it means to attempt the life of a Cake Master!” Ninja hissed at me.
“No, wait!” I protested, holding up my hands. “I'm her friend!” “Hiayah!” screamed Ninja. “Hiayah!” yelled the other Cake Masters. “Kid? Kid? Skeeve? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” Aahz's voice was full of concern.
I opened my eyes. The light hurt for a minute, but it re-ceded to a single oil lamp burning on the table beside me. It lit up Aahz's worried face. I grinned weakly at him. He thumped me on the chest. He grinned back, showing his gleaming mouthful of fangs.
“Good for you, kid,” he said. “Glad to see you back among the living.”
Practically everybody I knew was peering down at me. I tried to sit up, but my chest felt like a thousand Centaurs had galloped across it. I groaned.
“What happened?” I asked.
Aahz poked a finger toward Ninja and her friends, now unmasked. The guards held them tightly. Pookie, Aahz's cousin, held a weird-looking wand on them. They looked terrified.
“You have one crazy fan club,” Pookie said. “Why didn't you just tell me you had found some more people who wanted to kill you?”
“Are yo
u all right, Mister Skeeve?” Princess Hermalaya asked. She and Matfany were wrapped in each other's arms. “I heard all that screaming? And there were all these people in black down there just slicing you into little rib-bons. I sicced my guards on them, but they cut them up, too? My wizard had to lean over the rail and zap every-body good.”
I felt my head. It was still attached, but there were thick bandages wrapped around it. Once I had noticed those, I saw the ones strapped around my arms and hands, too.
“What do you want done to them?” Aahz asked, his eyes glowing fiercely. “Name it, Skeeve. Anything from a good spanking to shredding them nerve by nerve. I'll en-joy it. You name it. Your enemy's my enemy.”
“They're not enemies,” I said. It hurt to move. “They're friends. They're Cake Masters.” “Cake Masters?” Hermalaya exclaimed. “Why, what are they doing here?”
“Helping you, or so we thought,” Ninja said, woefully. “Mister Skeeve, we are so sorry. We just wanted to avenge a sister of our craft!”
“Why, that's just so nice! I have met so few other Cake Masters?”
Ninja and the others bowed to Hermalaya. “What layer are you?” she asked.
“Well, I just made twelfth,” Hermalaya said.
Kroka indicated Ninja. “She's the Topping of our order. She's nineteenth.”
“I am so impressed!” Hermalaya bowed back. “But it wasn't nice of you to beat up Mister Skeeve.”
“We just can't apologize enough! But how could we recognize him when he was dressed up as that villain?”
Matfany cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, la-dies!” Ninja looked sheepish. “Are you going to be okay, Skeeve?”
“I'm all right,” I said, trying to be upbeat because they seemed so worried. I looked up at Aahz. “Did it work?”
“The crowd loved it,” Aahz said, gleefully. “No prob-lem accepting Hermalaya's return or the new man in town. They were a little confused when your spells fizzled, leaving me there on the balcony with her with my bare face hanging out, but luckily by then Matfany was done with his tint job. He just stepped right in.”
Myth 18 - MythChief Page 23