Robert Asprin's Myth-Fits

by Jody Lynn Nye

  I had been steadily amassing magik from the tiny sparks that the force lines released. There was plenty in my internal supply for what I had to do. I levitated over the heads of the crowd and flew toward the Central Help Desk. Below me, Aahz started throwing people out of his way, making room for the rest of my friends to follow.

  I touched down just out of reach of the serenity spell that the round building cast, threw my arms to the skies, and shouted.

  “I’m unhappy,” I said, bellowing it to the wide blue skies. “Do you hear me? I’m not happy! Winslow is making me miserable! I’m grim! I’m discontented! They promised to fix it, and they aren’t doing anything!”

  A queue of visitors stretched out the door from the round lavender building. The longer I shouted, the more of them turned to look at me. One or two waved a hand in dismissal, but the rest started to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. A couple even left the line and walked away. I smiled to myself as horrified staff poured out of the building and hurried to reassure the rest.

  “He is only experiencing a temporary lull in enjoyment,” announced a Winslovak with a cone that magnified his voice. “Please stand by. We are handling this matter. Please go on having fun. Winslow cares about you! Pay no attention. Please, pay no attention!”

  “They’re ignoring me!” I shouted, waving my arms. “Stop! Look at me!”

  “Ha,” said a small Deveel child being towed past me by his worried parents. He sneered. “You don’t know how to throw a good tantrum.”

  That gave me a great idea. I threw myself on the ground and began kicking and beating my fists against the paving stones. Then I flipped over and punched the air with both hands, wailing.

  Aahz and the others had reached me by then, but so had the musicians. The trumpeters and trombone players began to play in the same tempo as my kicks, but diminishing. I noticed that as the music started to slow down, so did my movements. Deliberately I tried to shake my hands at a different pace. It was hard to ignore the music. They were making it hard for me to keep doing what I wanted to do. I grew angrier.

  “Stop trying to influence me!” I yelled to the powers-that-be that I knew must be listening. “Stop! You can’t make me feel better unless you give me what I want!”

  Their response took longer to arrive that time, as if they, too, had to scramble to gather up enough power to make it happen.

  “See, everybody?” said a cheerful voice. “We are bringing him what he asked for!”

  Dozens of Winslovaks with name tags appeared and crowded around me. Every one of them had double-handled gold cups in their arms. They offered them to me. Some were magikal, but most were just decorative.

  “Would you like this one?” a tall male asked.

  “No, take mine!” a shorter, skinnier male said. “It’s what you really want!”

  But none of them were the Loving Cup. I snatched each of them out of the hands of the Winslovaks offering them and threw them aside. The cups vanished either in midair or after the first clanging bounce.

  “No. Nope. No. Not right. No.” The next was made of paper-thin metal. I grabbed it and mashed it between my palms and tossed it over my shoulder. “Do you think I can’t see what you’re trying to do? You can’t distract me! I am Skeeve the Magnificent, and I know a real magikal cup when I see it! Bring me the Loving Cup!”

  By then, I was surrounded by Winslovaks, all looking worried. Not just brows wrinkled with friendly concern, but fearful and nervous.

  “Mr. Skeeve, you are getting all worked up,” Soona said. “It’s not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is.” I did my best impersonation of one of Aahz’s snarls. “Nothing else seems to work!”

  “All you ever have to do is ask.”

  I crossed my arms.

  “I have been asking! I have been waiting too long!”

  “Miss Bunny, Mr. Aahz . . .” Soona began, appealing to my friends.

  “Just Aahz,” my partner said.

  “Aahz, please! Can’t you reason with him? Everything takes time. We need time!”

  I felt sorry about the desperation on her face, but I hardened my will. I would keep on being difficult for as long as it took. I recrossed my arms and, for good measure, crossed my feet as well.

  Aahz snarled at them. “Excuses don’t impress me. Action impresses me. My partner asked you to find him the Loving Cup. You said you’d get it. Now, get it!”

  Soona turned to Bunny.

  “Miss Bunny, please! You are his employer and his good friend. Won’t you calm him? We will keep up our efforts, but please ask him to be patient!”

  Bunny put on the expression she used for bill collectors and would-be clients who were wasting our time and theirs.

  “Do you know what really burns my socks?” Bunny asked. “I’ve been to Winslow before. I loved it! I told everybody I knew how nice it was to come here. In spite of the nosebleed fees, I always thought it was worth it. Now my friend wants one tiny little magik cup, and you have strung him along for so long that he’s about to blow his top. I am just going to have to get on the Crystal Ethernet and tell everybody I know just what happened here. And you know what will happen after that? They’ll tell everybody they know, too!” She brandished Bytina. Her PDA radiated a fantastic glow of light from its tiny crystal screen that seemed more powerful than the little device was capable of producing. “And they will all be so disappointed!”

  “That’s what I think, too,” Tananda said.

  “Miss Markie, how can we make this better?”

  “Don’t even ask me,” Markie said, with her tiny brows lowered. “Ask Skeeve.”

  “Then what can we do, sir?” Soona asked plaintively, turning back to me.

  I put out my lower lip.

  “I want the Loving Cup. I want the real one. I’m tired of waiting. If I don’t get it I’ll have to tell everyone how I feel. I want it now. If I don’t get it, then I will have to make all your other visitors as unhappy as I am.”

  It was a bluff. I was pretty sure they could neutralize any action I took, even bouncing me out of Winslow completely or sending the free-ranging equivalent of Benjy to throw me into a wall, but I thought it was worth a try. I kept the sorrowful expression on my face. The Winslovaks went into a quick huddle in the lantern-lit twilight.

  When they broke, their faces were woeful.

  “We can’t help you, Mr. Skeeve,” Soona said.

  Inwardly, I felt triumphant. I had gotten more of a response than I ever did playing Dragon Poker. I had forced them to make an admission that hurt them more than anything else could have.

  “Then I want to talk to somebody who can.”

  The employees huddled again. I could tell that passing me up the chain of command was the very last thing they wanted to do, and I had forced them to that extremity. Or at least I thought I had. I waited, defensive magik at the ready. I had to be prepared to fight for my life.

  At last, Soona turned back to me.

  “Please come with us, sir,” she said. I refused to move.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We are taking you to the Disconsulate.”

  I couldn’t help it. I held my chin up proudly as I followed them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Just another story, and we’re through.”

  —SCHEHERAZADE

  “What’s the Disconsulate?” Markie asked, her voice echoing off the tiled walls. Soona had taken us to one of the uncountable invisible doors that were peppered around the resort, and through not one, but two glittering rings of blue fire. The doorway at the end led into a brightly lit hall whose end was too far away for me to see. The brightly lit passage was as colorful as a garden, lined with intricate mosaics in colors of ruby, emerald, sapphire, gold, and silver. In fact, I thought, glancing at a depiction of yellow flowers floating on a stream under a bridge, the
stones were probably real gems and precious metals.

  Soona sighed miserably, a noise that I never thought I’d hear from the happiest place in all the dimensions.

  “It is where unhappy people apply for what they want so they won’t be miserable any longer.”

  “Who runs it?” Aahz asked. “We’re not talking to just any minion.”

  “No, sir,” Soona said. “The executives in the Disconsulate have the ultimate authority in this dimension.”

  “Good,” Bunny said.

  I strutted down the passageway, excitement growing in my belly. At last, we were going to talk with somebody who might have the power to locate Servis and get the Loving Cup back for us. We would be able to hand it over to Looie and fulfill our contract. I could almost feel the smooth surface of the cup’s bowl in my hands.

  “You’re cheering up,” Aahz growled at me under his breath. “Knock it off!”

  “I’m not!” I protested, but I slowed my pace and let my shoulders droop a little.

  “That’s better. Don’t break character.”

  I couldn’t even begin to figure out that sentence.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It’s a term actors use. This isn’t over. It’s just another test. You’re still supposed to be disgruntled. I realize you’re only a Klahd, but try to keep your mind on your job.”

  That was a low blow! A retort sprang to my lips, but the steady look in his eye told me the problem was me, not him. He wanted me to stay angry. I should be. If I was the discontented customer I appeared to be, I had to keep my ire at the forefront of my mind. I would not break character. I lowered my brow and kept it there.

  I fervently hoped Benjy was right about making sure I got to the people at the top. The corridor seemed to stretch on into infinity. With what I knew about architects such as those in the Bazaar who could make buildings that had a back door into other dimensions to extend their square footage, Winslow could be making me walk until I dropped or turned back, so they wouldn’t, in his words, have to do anything hard.

  Cheerful scene succeeded pretty picture, and was in turn followed by images of joyful Winslovaks giving one another gifts, animals frolicking and fish leaping out of sunlit waters with diamond sprays scattering. Music with a catchy refrain provided a subtle undertone. Before I realized what I was doing, I was walking in rhythm, then bouncing to the tune. It’s hard to stay in a bad mood when you’re dancing. The music was so infectious that no matter how I tried to walk between the beats, it caught me again and again.

  Finally, I sat down on the floor.

  “That’s it. I’m not going any farther. We’ve been walking for over an hour.”

  “But you have to, sir,” Soona pleaded. She took my arm to help me up. “We’re almost there, I promise!”

  “There you are, Mr. Skeeve!”

  We finally reached the end of the hallway. A couple of beautiful women emerged from the door at the end and came to take me by the arms. They pulled me with them. Beyond the portal was a room so beautiful that I found myself gasping wherever I looked. A tent of cobalt blue silk enveloped the ceiling and hung to the floor in shimmering folds and swags. Standing lamps of black wood with gilded tips provided a warm golden glow. The heady air was filled with a smooth, exotic perfume that seemed to caress my face.

  “Please, sit down,” the first girl said. They guided me to a deep armchair like the one my grandfather had had, with a high back and broad, curving arms. I had always thought of it as a throne. I settled into it. It was more comfortable than Granddad’s. In fact, I had never enjoyed a piece of furniture so much. The women sat on the arms. “You must be hungry and tired.”

  “I am, a little,” I said.

  The second one poured wine from a tall golden jug into a silver cup.

  “Drink,” she said, holding it to my lips. I took a sip. The smooth, sweet wine made me feel warm all over. I swallowed hastily. She kept it tilted up until I had consumed at least half.

  “My friends, where are my friends?” I asked. I tried to look around, but all I could see was the two of them and more of the cascading blue silk.

  “We are taking good care of them, too,” the first one said, leaning close to me. She wore a spicy perfume that tickled all of my senses. Her lush hips protruded from the chair arm just over my lap but never touched me. “Now, how can we help you?”

  She toyed with a lock of my hair. The other stroked my hand. It felt so good I started to relax against the cushions.

  “Yes, that’s it,” the second one said, leaning in close. “All we want is for you to enjoy yourself. Be calm. You can tell us anything you want.”

  I was tired from days of fruitless searching. It seemed like hours since I had started my necessary tantrum. It was so nice just to sit there, being quiet and content. The wine warmed my belly. The girls didn’t push me. They just spoke to me in their soft voices. I could stay there for days.

  “That’s right,” the first girl said, stroking my forehead. “Later on, if you want, we can . . .”

  “Gleep!”

  A scaly green head shoved in between the girls and pushed them off their perches. My dragon slurped my face. His stinking breath, reminiscent of a long-dead skunk-weasel that had had cabbage for its last meal, brought me back to my senses. I sputtered and wiped slime off my cheeks. I started to scold him, but his unhappy eyes reminded me that none of this was what I really wanted.

  “Good boy, Gleep!” I cried.

  With his help, I struggled out of the chair. All of this, the women, the wine, the comfy chair, was another ploy. We were being watched and measured by some unseen force. My will had to be stronger than theirs. I had to resist. The moment I said yes, we were stuck. I would not fail.

  My friends had been lured into similar honey-traps. On a chaise longue, Aahz was surrounded by beautiful women from several dimensions. One fed him grapes while another filed his nails. Two of them massaged his shoulders and cooed into his ears.

  “Aahz! Come on!”

  Aahz grinned at me lazily.

  “Are you through being seduced?” he asked.

  “Yes! Let’s go!”

  It took slightly more effort to extract the rest of our friends from their distractions.

  “I was having the most stimulating philosophical discussion on architecture with a young lady from Caf,” Chumley said, straightening his glasses as he left the bevy of beauties who had surrounded him.

  “Yes,” Aahz said. “I could tell by the way she was coiled around you.”

  Bunny’s face was red with embarrassment.

  “They got us again,” she said.

  “They’re good,” Markie agreed. “They really know how to push our buttons. I could take lessons from them.”

  I went to confront Soona, who stood almost hidden among the swags of hanging silk.

  “No more,” I said. “You can keep this up until I’m so tired that I collapse, but when I wake up I’ll still want the same thing.”

  Her shoulders drooped.

  “All right,” she said. “Please come this way.”

  She pushed aside a tapestry and pushed on the deep red wooden panel behind it. I blinked at the stark light of yet another passageway, this one plain and bare. Gleep bounded out into it and swished his tail eagerly, bounding up and down until I went to join him.

  “Love the décor,” Markie said, looking around. “Sensory-deprivation gray is in this season.”

  “Pretty weird,” Haroon said. “There ain’t no scents here a-tall. Never smelled nothin’ like it.”

  He kept his nose to the floor, letting out puzzled yips and croons until we reached our next destination. Soona pushed open a section of wall and stood aside for us to enter.

  Whereas the previous room had been the ultimate in sybaritic luxury, this one was utilitarian in the ext
reme. Chairs had been bent out of a single piece of gray metal, indistinguishable in color from the walls. A half wall separated us from the only source of sound, a faint scratching noise. I went to peer over it. A Winslovak woman with short white hair in a baggy gray suit went over a single gray document with a gray pencil.

  “Ahem!” I cleared my throat. “Excuse me. I need to see whoever is in charge.”

  She never looked up.

  “Please wait. I will let you know when they are available.”

  I went to sit in one of the chairs. They weren’t made for comfort. I kept springing up to pace back and forth. Haroon sniffed all around the room and came back to us.

  “Who’s the ‘they’ we’re waiting for?” I asked him. His large brown eyes were puzzled.

  “Don’t know, son. Still no smells. ’Fact, she don’t smell of nothin’, either! A fellah could get bored to death tryin’ to follow a scent here.”

  We sat for a while in silence. I drummed my fingers on my knee.

  “Did I tell you about the little task I took in Karnstel last month?” Tananda began. “I told you that my old friend Takkit had, uh, an interest in some of the pieces that weren’t on display at the Art Museum there?”

  “Tanda!” Bunny exclaimed. “A second-story job?”

  Tananda grinned.

  “I know. But they’re so much fun! Besides, Takkit had been the one who, uh, provided the pieces to the museum in the first place. And the thieves never paid him, so what else could he do? He swore to me we’d only remove what he was owed, so I went with it.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “Well . . .”