Another Fine Myth ma-1

by Robert Lynn Asprin

  "What's an Imp?"

  "Kid, will you give me a break?"

  "I'm sorry, Aahz. Keep going."

  "Right. Well… umm…. It's happening!" he made his appeal to the heavens. "I can't remember what I was saying!"

  "Imps," I prompted.

  "Oh! Right. Well, if he's hiring Imps and arming them with non-spec weapons, it can only mean he's up to his old tricks. Now since I don't have my powers, I can't get out of here to sound the alarm. That's where you come in, kid…. Kid?"

  He was looking at me expectantly. I found I could contain my misery no longer.

  "I'm sorry, Aahz," I said in a small, pitiful voice I hardly recognized as my own. "I don't understand a single thing you've said."

  I suddenly realized I was about to cry, and turned away hurriedly so he wouldn't see. I sat there, with tears trickling down my cheeks, alternately fighting the urge to wipe them away and wondering why I was concerned over whether or not a demon saw me crying. I don't know how long I stayed that way, but I was brought back to reality by a gentle hand on my shoulder, a cold, gentle hand.

  "Hey, kid. Don't beat on yourself," Aahz's voice was surprisingly sympathetic. "It's not your fault if Garkin was tight with his secrets. Nobody expects you to have learned something you were never taught, so there's no reason you should expect it either."

  "I just feel so stupid," I said, not turning. "I'm not used to feeling stupid."

  "You aren't stupid, kid. That much I know. Garkin wouldn't have taken you for an apprentice if you were stupid. If anybody here's stupid, it's me. I got so carried away with the situation, I forgot myself and tried talking to an apprentice as if he were a full-blown magician. Now that's stupid."

  I still couldn't bring myself to respond.

  "Heck, kid." He gave my shoulder a gentle shake. "Right now you can do more magik than I can."

  "But you know more."

  "But I can't use it. You know, kid, that gives me an idea. With old Garkin dead there, you're kind of cut off. What say you sign on as my apprentice for a while. We'll take it from the top with me teaching you as if you were a new student who didn't know a thing. We'll take it step by step from the beginning. What da ya say?"

  In spite of my gloom I felt my spirits lift. Like he said, I'm not stupid. I could recognize a golden opportunity when I saw one.

  "Gee, that sounds great, Aahz."

  "Then it's a deal?"

  "It's a deal," I answered and stuck out my hand.

  "What's that?" he snarled. "Isn't my word good enough for you?"

  "But you said…."

  "That's right. You're my apprentice now, and I don't go around shaking apprentices' hands."

  I withdrew my hand. It occurred to me this alliance might not be all roses and song.

  "Now as I was saying, here's what we've got to do about the current situation…."

  "But I haven't had any lessons yet!"

  "That's right. Here's your first lesson. When a crisis shapes up, you don't waste energy wishing for information or skills you haven't got. You dig in and handle it as best you can with what you've got. Now shut up while I fill you in on the situation… apprentice."

  I shut up and listened. He studied me for a moment, then gave a small satisfied nod, took another gulp from the brazier and began.

  "Now, you have a vague idea about other dimensions because I told you about them earlier. You also have firsthand experience that magicians can open passages in the barriers between those dimensions. Well, different magicians use that power in different ways. Some of them, like Garkin, only use it to impress the yokels; summon a demon, visions of other worlds, that kind of schtick. But there are others whose motives are not so pure."

  He paused to take another gulp of wine. Surprisingly, I felt no urge to interrupt with questions.

  "Technology in different dimensions has progressed at different rates, as has magik. Some magicians use this to their own advantage. They aren't showmen, they're smugglers, buying and selling technology across the barriers for profit and power. Most of the inventors in any dimension are actually closet magicians."

  I must have frowned without realizing it, but Aahz noted it and acknowledged it with a wink and a smirk.

  "I know what you're thinking, Skeeve. It all sounds a little dishonest and unscrupulous. Actually, they're a fairly ethical bunch. There's a set of unwritten rules called the Smugglers Code they adhere to pretty closely."

  "Smugglers Code?" I asked, forgetting myself for a moment. Aahz didn't seem to mind this time.

  "It's like the Mercenaries Code, but less violent and more profitable. Anyway, as an example, one item in that code states you cannot bring an 'invention' into a dimension that is too far in advance of that dimensions technology, like bringing guided missiles into a long bow culture or lasers into a flint and powder era."

  I kept my silence with great difficulty.

  "As I've said, most magicians adhere to the code fairly closely, but once in a while a bad one crops up. That brings us to Isstvan."

  I got a sudden chill at the sound of that name. Maybe there was something different in the way Aahz pronounced it.

  "Some say Isstvan isn't playing with a full deck. I think he's been playing with his wand too much. But whatever the reason, somewhere he's gotten it into his head he wants to rule the dimensions, all of them. He's tried it before, but we got wind of it in time and a bunch of us teamed up to teach him a lesson in manners. As a matter of fact, that's when I first met Garkin there."

  He gestured with the brazier and slopped a bit of wine on the floor. I began to doubt his sobriety, but his voice seemed steady enough as he continued.

  "I thought he had given the thing up after his last drubbing. We even gave him a few souvenirs to be sure he didn't forget. Then this thing pops up. If he's hiring cross-dimension help and arming them with advance technology weapons, he's probably trying to do it again."

  "Do what?"

  "I just told you. Take over the dimensions."

  "I know, but how? I mean, how does what he does in this dimension help him rule the others?"

  "Oh, that. Well, each dimension has a certain amount of power that can be channeled or converted into magik. Different dimensions have different amounts, and each dimensions power is divided up or shared by the magicians of that dimension. If he can succeed in controlling or killing the other magicians in this dimension, he can use its entire magical energy to attack another dimension. If he succeeds in winning there, he has the power from two dimensions to attack a third, and so on. As you can see, the longer he keeps his plot moving, the stronger he gets and the harder he'll be to stop."

  "I understand now," I said, genuinely pleased and enthusiastic.

  "Good. Then you understand why we've got to stop him."

  I stopped being pleased and enthusiastic.

  "We? You mean us? You and me?"

  "I know it's not much of a force, kid, but like I said, it's all we've got."

  "I think I'd like a little of that wine now."

  "None of that, kid. You're in training now. You're going to need all the practice time you can get if we're going to stop Isstvan. Bonkers or not, he's no slouch when it comes to magik."

  "Aahz," I said slowly, not looking up. "Tell me the truth. Do you think there's a chance you can teach me enough magik that we'll have a chance of stopping him?"

  "Of course, kid. I wouldn't even try if we didn't have a chance. Trust me."

  I wasn't convinced, and from the sound of his voice, neither was he.

  Chapter Four

  Careful planning is the key to safe and swift travel.

  Ulysses

  "HMMM… Well, it's not a tailored jump-suit, but it will have to do."

  We had been trying to outfit Aahz in a set of clothes and he was surveying the results in a small dark mirror we had found, turning it this way and that to catch his reflection piecemeal.

  "Maybe if we could find some other color than this terrible brown."
/>
  "That's all we've got."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. I have two shirts, both brown. You're wearing one, and I'm wearing the other."

  "Hmmm…." he said, studying me carefully. "Maybe I would look better in the lighter brown. Oh, well, we can argue that out later."

  I was curious as to his attention to his appearance. I mean, he couldn't be planning on meeting anyone. The sight of a green, scaly demon would upset most of the locals no matter what he was wearing. For the time being, however, I deemed it wisest to keep quiet and humor him in his efforts.

  Actually, the clothes fit him fairly well. The shirt was a bit short in the sleeves due to the length of his arms, but not too because I was taller than him, which made up for most of the difference. We had had to cut off some of the trouser legs to cover for his shorter legs, but they, like the body of the shirt, were not too tight. I had made the clothes myself originally, and they tended to be a bit baggy, or at least they were on me. Tailoring is not my forte.

  He was also wearing Garkin's boots, which fitted him surprisingly well. I had raised minor protest at this, until he pointed out Garkin had no further use for them but we did. Pragmatism, he called it. Situational ethics. He said it would come in handy if I was serious about becoming a magician.

  "Hey, kid!" Aahz's voice interrupted my thoughts. He seemed to be occupied rummaging through the various chests and cupboards of the hut. "Don't you have anything here in the way of weapons?"

  "Weapons?"

  "Yeah, you know, the things that killed old Garkin there. Swords, knives, bows, stuff like that."

  "I know what they are. I just wasn't expecting you to be interested in them, that's all."

  "Why not?"

  "Well… I thought you said you were a magician."

  "We aren't going to go through that again, are we, kid? Besides, what's that got to do with weapons?"

  "It's just that I've never known a magician who used weapons other than his powers."

  "Really? How many magicians have you known?"

  "One," I admitted.

  "Terrific. Look, kid, if old Garkin didn't want to use weapons, that's his problem. Me, I want some. If you'll notice, Garkin is dead."

  It was hard to argue with logic like that.

  "Besides," he continued, "do you really want to take on Isstvan and his pack with nothing but your magik and my agility going for us?"

  "I'll help you look."

  We went to work rummaging for weapons, but aside from the cross bow that had killed Garkin, we didn't find much. One of the chests yielded a sword with a jewel encrusted handle, and we discovered two knives, one white handled and one black handled, on Garkin's workbench. Aside from those, there was nothing even remotely resembling a fighting utensil in the hut. Aahz was not overjoyed.

  "I don't believe this. A sword with a cruddy blade, bad balance, and phony jewels in the handle and two knives that haven't been sharpened since they were made. Anybody who keeps weapons like this should be skewered."

  "He was."

  "True enough. Well, if that's all we've got, that's what we'll have to use."

  He slung the sword on his hip and tucked the white handled knife into his belt. I thought he would give me the other knife, but instead he stooped down and secured it in his boot.

  "Don't I get one?"

  "Can you use it?"

  "Well…."

  He resumed his task. I had a small knife I used to skin small game tucked in my own belt inside my shirt. Even to my inexperienced eye it was of better quality than the two Aahz had just appropriated. I decided not to bring it to his attention.

  "Okay, kid. Where did the old man keep his money?" I showed him. One of the stones in the fireplace was loose and there was a small leather pouch hidden behind it. He peered at the coins suspiciously as they poured into his palm.

  "Check me on this, kid. Copper and silver aren't worth much in this dimension, right?"

  "Well, silver's sorta valuable, but it's not worth as much as gold."

  "Then what's with this chicken-feed? Where's the real money?"

  "We never really had much."

  "Come off it… I haven't met a magician yet who didn't have a bundle socked away. Just because he never spent any of it doesn't mean he doesn't have it. Now think. Haven't you ever seen anything around that was gold or had gems?"

  "Well, there are a few items, but they're protected by curses."

  "Kid, think for a minute. If you were a doddering old wreck who couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag, how would you protect your treasures?"

  "I don't know."

  "Terrific. I'll explain while we gather it up."

  In short order we had a modest heap of loot on the table, most of it items I had long held in awe. There was a gold statue of a man with the head of a lion, the Three Pearls of Kraul, a gold pendant in the shape of the sun with three of its rays missing, and a ring with a large jewel we took from Garkin's hand. Aahz held up the sun pendant.

  "Now this is an example of what I mean. I suppose there's a story about what happened to the missing three rays?"

  "Well," I began, "there was a lost tribe that worshiped a huge snake toad…."

  "Skip it. It's an old dodge. What you do is take your gold to a craftsman and have him fashion it into something with a lot of small out-juttings like fingers or arms or…" He held up the pendant. "… rays of sun. It gives you the best of two worlds.

  "First, you have something mystical and supernatural, add a ghost story and no one will dare to touch it. Second, it has the advantage that if you need a little ready cash, you just break off a ray or an arm and sell it for the value of the gold. Instead of losing value, the price of the remaining item increases because of its mystical history, the strange circumstances under which it was torn asunder, purely fictional, of course."

  Strangely enough, I was not surprised. I was beginning to wonder if anything Garkin had told me was true.

  "Then none of these things have any real magical powers or curses?"

  "Now, I didn't say that. Occasionally, you stumble across a real item, but they're usually few and far between."

  "But how can you tell the real thing from a fake?"

  "I take it that Garkin didn't teach you to see auras. Well, that figures. Probably was afraid you'd take his treasure and run. Okay, kid. Time for your first lesson. Have you ever daydreamed? You know, just stared at something and let your mind wander?"

  I nodded.

  "Okay, here's what I want you to do. Scoot down in your chair until your head is almost level with the table. That's right. Comfortable? Fine. Now I want you to look across the table at the wall. Don't focus on it, just stare at it and let your mind wander."

  I did as he said. It was hard not focusing on a specific point, so I set my mind to wandering. What to think about? Well, what was I thinking about when the candle almost lit. Oh yes. I am Skeeve. I am powerful and my power is growing daily. I smiled to myself. With the demon's aid, I would soon become a knowledgeable sorcerer. And that would just be the start. After that…

  "Hey!" I said, sitting upright.

  "What did you see?"

  "It was… well, nothing, I guess."

  "Don't give me a hard time, kid. What did you see?"

  "Well, for a second there I thought I saw sort of a red glow around the ring, but when I looked at it squarely, it disappeared."

  "The ring, eh? It figures. Well, that's it. The rest of the stuff should be okay."

  He scraped the rest of the loot into a sack, leaving the ring on the table.

  "What was it?"

  "What? Oh, what you saw? That was an aura. Most people have them. Some places do, but it's a sure test to check if an item is truly magical. I'd be willing to bet that the ring is what old Garkin used to fry the assassin."

  "Aren't we going to take it with us?"

  "Do you know how to control it?"

  "Well….no."

  "Neither do I. The last thi
ng we need is to carry around a ring that shoots fire. Particularly if we don't know how to activate it. Leave it. Maybe the others will find it and turn it on themselves."

  He tucked the sack into his waist band.

  "What others?" I prompted.

  "Hmmm? Oh, the other assassins."

  "What other assassins?" I was trying to be calm, but I was slipping.

  "That's right. This is the first time you've tangled with them, isn't it? I would have thought Garkin…."

  "Aahz, could you just tell me?"

  "Oh! Sure, kid. Assassins never work alone. That's why they never miss. They work in groups of two to eight. There's probably a back-up team around somewhere. Realizing Isstvan's respect for Garkin, I'd guess he wouldn't send less than six out on an assignment like this, maybe even two teams."

  "You mean all this time you've been fooling around with clothes and swords, there's been more assassins on the way?"

  "Relax, kid. That's the back-up team. They'll be waiting a ways off and won't move until tomorrow at the earliest. It's professional courtesy. They want to give this bozo room to maneuver. Besides, it's tradition that the assassin who actually does the deed gets first pick of any random booty lying around before the others show up to take even shares. Everyone does it, but it's considered polite to not notice some of the loot has been pocketed before the official split."

  "How do you know so much about assassins, Aahz?"

  "Went with one for a while… lovely lass, but she couldn't keep her mouth shut, even in bed. Sometimes I wonder if any profession really guards its secrets as closely as they claim."

  "What happened?"

  "With what?"

  "With your assassin?"

  "None of your business, kid." Aahz was suddenly brusque again. "We've got work to do."

  "What are we going to do?"

  "Well, first we bury the Imp. Maybe it will throw the others off our trail. With any luck, they'll think he grabbed all the loot and disappeared. It wouldn't be the first time."

  "No, I mean after that. We're getting ready to travel, but where are we going?"

  "Kid, sometimes you worry me. That isn't even magik. It's common sense military action. First, we find Isstvan. Second, we appraise his strength. Third, we make our plans, and fourth, we execute them, and hopefully him."