Myth Directions m-3

by Robert Asprin

"It's a chance to get our heads beaten in," I corrected. "There's got to be an easier way."

  "There was," Aahz agreed. "Unfortunately, you eliminated it when you promised we wouldn't do anything to endanger Quigley's job."

  I hate it when Aahz is right. I hate it almost as much as getting caught in my own stupid blunders. More often than not, those two phenomena occur simultaneously in my life.

  "Why didn't you tell me about this plan before?" I asked to hide my discomfort.

  "Would you have gone along with it if I had?"

  "No."

  "That's why."

  "What happens if we refuse your challenge?" the Ta-hoe spokesman called.

  "Then we consider ourselves the winners by default," Aahz replied.

  "Well, Veygus will be there," came the decision from the other group.

  "And so will Ta-hoe," was the spontaneous response.

  "If I might ask," the Ta-hoe spokesman queried, "why did you pick a date thirty days from now?"

  "It'll take time for you to lay out a triangular field," my mentor shrugged. "And besides, I thought your merchants would require more than a week to prepare their souvenirs."

  There were nods in both groups for that reasoning. "Then it's agreed?" Aahz prompted.

  "Agreed!" roared Veygus.

  "Agreed!" echoed Ta-hoe.

  "Speaking of merchandizing," the Ta-hoe spokesman commented, "what is the name of your team? We'll need it before we can go into production of the souvenirs."

  "We're called ‘The Demons'," Aahz said, winking at me. In a flash I saw that his plan really was. "Would you like to know why?"

  "Well ... I would assume it's because you play like demons," the Ta-hoe spokesman stammered.

  "Not ‘like' demons!" my mentor grinned. "Shall we show them, partner?"

  "Why not?" I smiled, closing my eyes.

  In a moment, our disguises were gone, and for the first time the delegates had a look at what was opposing them.

  "As I was saying," Aahz announced, showing all his teeth, "not ‘like' demons."

  It was a good gambit, and it should have worked. Any sane person would quake at the thought of taking on a team of demons. No sacrifice would be too great to avoid the confrontation. We had overlooked one minor detail, however. Jahks are not sane people.

  "Excellent," the Ta-hoe spokesman exclaimed.

  "What?" Aahz blinked, his smile fading.

  "This should keep the odds even," the spokesman continued. "That's what we were discussing... whether you could field a good enough team to make a fight of it. But now... well, everyone will want to see us matchup."

  "You... aren't afraid of playing against demons?" my mentor asked slowly.

  Now it was the spokesman's turn to smile.

  "My dear fellow," he chortled, "if you had ever seen our teams play, you wouldn't have to ask that question."

  With that, he turned and rejoined his delegation as the two groups prepared to withdraw from the meeting.

  "Didn't you listen in on their conversations?" I hissed.

  "If you'll recall," Aahz growled back, "I was busy talking with you at the time."

  "Then we're stuck," I moaned.

  "Maybe not," he corrected. "Quigley! Could we have a word with you?"

  The ex-demon hunter lost no time in joining us.

  "I must say," he chortled. "You boys did an excellent job of getting me out of a tight spot there. Now it's a matter of pride for them to win the Trophy back on the playing field."

  "Swell," Aahz growled. "Now how about your part of the deal? Ta-hoe has its chance, so there's no reason for you to keep Tanda."

  "Mmm ... yes and no," Quigley corrected. "It occurs to me that if I release her now, then you'll have the Trophy and Tanda, and would therefore have no motive to return for the game. To fulfill your promise, to give Ta-hoe a chance for the Trophy, the game will have to take place. Then I'll release Tanda."

  "Thanks a lot," my mentor spat.

  "Don't mention it," the ex-demon hunter waved as he went to rejoin his group.

  "Now what do we do?" I asked.

  "We form a team," Aahz shrugged. "Hey, Griffin!"

  "What is it now?" the youth growled.

  "We have one more job for you," my mentor smiled. "All you have to do is help us train our team. There are ... a few points of the game that aren't very clear to us."

  "No," said Griffin firmly.

  "Now look, short stuff..."

  "Wait a minute, Aahz," I interrupted. "Griffin, this time we aren't threatening you. I'm offering you a job at good wages to help us."

  "What!?" Aahz shrieked.

  "Shut up, Aahz."

  "You don't understand," Griffin interrupted in turn. "Neither threats nor money will change my mind. I helped you steal the Trophy from Veygus, but I won't help you against my own team. I'd die before I'd do that."

  "There are worse things than dying," Aahz suggested ominously.

  "Let it drop, Aahz," I said firmly. "Thanks anyway, Griffin. You've been a big help when we needed you, so I won't fault you for holding back now. Hurry up. The others are waiting."

  We watched as he trotted off to join his delegation.

  "You know, kid," Aahz sighed at last, "sometime we're going to have to have a long talk about these lofty ideals of yours."

  "Sure, Aahz," I nodded. "In the meantime, what are we going to do about this game?"

  "What else can we do?" my mentor shrugged. "We put together a team."

  "Just like that," I winced. "And where are we going to find the players, much less someone who can tell us how the game is played?"

  "Where else?" Aahz grinned, setting the DHopper. "The Bazaar at Deva!"

  Chapter Eighteen:

  "What's the point-spread on World War III?"

  -R.REAGAN

  AT several other points in this tale, I've referred to the Bazaar at Deva. You may be wondering about it. So do I... and I've been there!

  Deva is the home dimension of the Deveels, acknowledged to be the best traders anywhere. You may find references to them in your folklore. Deals with Deveels are usually incredible and frequently disastrous. I've dealt with only two Deveels personally. One got me hung (not hung-over from drink- but hung up by the neck!) and the other sold me my dragon, Gleep. I like to think that makes me even, but Aahz insists I'm batting zero-whatever that means.

  Anyway, there is a year-round, rock-the-clock Bazaar in that dimension where the Deveels meet to trade with each other. Everything imaginable and most things that aren't are available there. All you have to do is bargain with the Deveels. Fortunately, the Bazaar is large enough that there is much duplication, and sometimes you can play the dealers off against each other.

  I had been here twice before, both times with Aahz. This was, however, the first time I had been here when it was raining.

  "It's raining," I pointed out, scowling at the overhanging clouds. They were a dark orange, which was quite picturesque, but did nothing toward making getting wet more pleasant.

  "I know it's raining," Aahz retorted tersely. "C'mon. Let's step in here while I get my bearings."

  "Here," in this case, was some sort of invisible bubble enveloping one stall which seemed to be doing an admirable job of keeping the rain out. I've used magik wards before to keep out unwelcome intruders, but it had never occurred to me to use it against the elements.

  "Buying or looking, gentlemen?" the proprietor asked, sidling up to us.

  I glanced at Aahz, but he was up on his tiptoes surveying the surroundings.

  "Um... looking, I guess."

  "Then stand in the rain!" came the snarling reply. "Force fields cost money, you know. This is a display, not a public service."

  "What's a force field?" I stalled.

  "Out!"

  "C'mon, kid," Aahz said. "I know where we are now."

  "Where?" I asked suspiciously.

  "In the stall of the Bazaar's rudest dealer," my mentor explained, raising his voice. "I wouldn
't have believed it if I hadn't heard him with my own ears."

  "What's that?" the proprietor scowled.

  "Are you Garbelton?" Aahz asked, turning his attention on the proprietor.

  "Well... yes."

  "Your reputation precedes you, sir," my mentor intoned loftily, "and is devastatingly accurate. Come, Master Skeeve, we'll take our business elsewhere."

  "But, gentlemen!" Garbelton called desperately, "if you'll only reconsider ..."

  The rest was lost as Aahz gathered me up and strode off into the rain.

  "What was that all about?" I demanded, breaking stride to jump a puddle. Aahz stepped squarely on it, splashing maroon mud all over my legs. Terrific. "That? Oh, just a little smokescreen to save face. It isn't good for your reputation to get thrown out of places . .. particularly for not buying."

  "You mean you hadn't heard of him before? Then how did you know his name?"

  "It was right there on the stall's placard," Aahz grinned. "Sure gave him a turn, though, didn't I? There's nothing a Deveel hates as much as losing a potential customer... except for giving a refund."

  As much as I care for Aahz and appreciate the guidance he's given me, he can be a bit stomach turning when he starts gloating.

  "We're still out in the rain," I pointed out.

  "Ah, but now we know where we're going."

  "We do?"

  Aahz groaned, swerving to avoid a little old lady who was squatting in the middle of the thoroughfare chortling over a cauldron. As we passed, a large hairy paw emerged from the cauldron's depth, but the lady whacked it with her wooden spoon and it retreated out of sight. Aahz ignored the entire proceedings.

  "Look, kid," he explained, "we're looking for two things here. First, we need to recruit some players for our team."

  "How can we recruit for the team when we don't know the first thing about the game?" I interrupted.

  "Second," my mentor continued tersely, "we have to find someone who can fill us in on the details of the game."

  "Oh."

  Properly mollified, I plodded along beside him in silence for several moments, sneaking covert glances at the displays we were passing. Then something occurred to me.

  "Say ... ummmm, Aahz?"

  "Yeah, kid?"

  "You never answered my question. Where are we going?"

  "To the Yellow Crescent Inn."

  "The Yellow Crescent Inn?" I echoed, brightening slightly. "Are we going to see Gus?"

  "That's right," Aahz grinned. "Gus is a heavy bettor. He should be able to put us in touch with a reliable bookie. Besides he owes us a favor. Maybe we can get him for the team."

  "Good," I said, and meant it.

  Gus is a gargoyle. He was part of the crew we used to stop Big Julie's army and I trust him as much as I do Aahz ....aybe a little more. Anyone who's used the expression "heart of stone" to mean insensitive has never met Gus. I assume his heart is stone, the rest of him is, but he's one of the warmest, most sympathetic beings I've ever met. He's also without a doubt the stablest being that I've met through Aahz. If Gus joined our team, I'd worry a lot less... well, a little less. Then again, he might be too sensible to get involved in this madcap scheme. And as for the bookies...

  "Hey, Aahz," I blinked. "What do we need a bookie for?"

  "To brief us on the game, of course."

  "A bookie from Deva is going to tell us how to play the game in Jahk?"

  "It's the best we can do," Aahz shrugged. "You heard Griffin. Nobody in Jahk will give us the time of day, much less help us put a team together. Cheer up, though. Bookies are very knowledgeable in spectator sports, and the ones here in Deva are the best."

  I pondered this for several moments, then decided to ask the question that had been bothering me since the meeting.

  "Aahz? When you issued the challenge, did you really expect to play the game?"

  My mentor stopped dead in his tracks and whirled to face me.

  "Do you think I'd issue a challenge without intending to fight?" he demanded. "Do you think I'm a big-mouthed bluffer who'd rather talk his way out of trouble than fight?"

  "It had crossed my mind," I admitted.

  "Well, you're right," he grinned, resuming his stride. "You're learning pretty fast-for a Klahd. No, I really thought they'd back down when we dropped our disguises. That and I didn't think Quigley would see through the ploy and call our hand."

  "He's learning fast, too," I commented. "I'm afraid he could become a real problem."

  "Not a chance," my mentor snorted. "You've got him beat cold in the magik department."

  "Except I've promised not to move against him," I observed glumly.

  "Don't let it get you down," Aahz insisted, draping an arm around my shoulders. "We've both made some stupid calls on this one. All we can do is play the cards we're dealt."

  "Bite the bullet, eh?" I grimaced.

  "That's right. Say, you really are learning quick." I still didn't know what a bullet was, but I was picking up some of Aahz's pet phrases. At least now I could give the illusion of intelligence.

  The Yellow Crescent Inn was in sight now. I expected Aahz to quicken his pace ... I mean, it was raining. Instead, however, my mentor slowed slightly, peering at a mixed group of beings huddled under a tent-flap.

  "Hel-lo!" he exclaimed. "What have we here?"

  "It looks like a mixed group of beings huddled under a tent-flap," I observed dryly, or as dryly as I could manage while dripping wet.

  "It's a crap game," Aahz declared. "I can hear the dice."

  Trust a Pervect to hear the sound of dice on mud at a hundred paces.

  "So?" I urged.

  "So I think we've found our bookie. The tall fellow, there-at the back of the crowd. I've dealt with him before."

  "Are we going to talk to him now?" I asked eagerly.

  "Not ‘we,' " Aahz corrected me. "Me. You get in enough trouble in clean-cut crowds without my taking you into a crap game. You're going to wait for me in the Inn. Gus should be able to keep an eye on you."

  "Oh, all right."

  I was disappointed, but willing to get out of the rain.

  "And don't stop to talk to anyone between here and there. Do you hear me?"

  "Yes, Aahz," I nodded, starting off at a trot.

  "And whatever you do, don't eat the food!"

  "Are you kidding?" I laughed. "I've been here before."

  The food at the Yellow Crescent Inn is dubious at best. Even after dimension hopping with Tananda and seeing what was accepted as food elsewhere, I wouldn't put anything from that place in my mouth voluntarily.

  As I approached, I could see through the door that the place was empty. This surprised me. I mean, from my prior experience, there was usually a good-sized crowd in there, and I would have expected the rain to increase the number of loiterers.

  Gus wasn't in sight, either; but the door was open, so I pushed my way in, relieved to be somewhere dry again. I shouldn't have been.

  No sooner had I gained entry when something like a large hand closed over the top of my head and I was hoisted bodily from my feet.

  "Little person!" a booming voice declared. "Crunch likes little persons. Crunch likes little persons better than Big Macs. How do you taste, little person?"

  With this last, I was rotated until I was hanging face to face with my assailant. In this case, I use the term "face" loosely. It had felt like I was being picked up by a big hand because I was being picked up by a big hand. At the other end of the big hand was the first and only troll it had been my misfortune to meet... and he looked hungry.

  Chapter Nineteen:

  "Why should I have to pay a troll just to cross a bridge?"

  -B. G. GRUFF

  WHILE I had never seen a troll before, I knew that this was one. I mean, he fit the description: tall, scraggly hair in patches, long rubbery limbs, misshapen face with runny eyes of unequal size. If it wasn't a troll, it would do until something better-or worse-came along.

  I should have b
een scared, but strangely I wasn't. For some time now I had been ducking and weaving through some tight situations trying to avoid trouble. Now, Big Ugly here wanted to hassle me. This time, I wasn't buying.

  "Why little person not answer Crunch?" the troll demanded, shaking me slightly.

  "You want an answer?" I snarled. "Try this!"

  Levitation is one of my oldest spells, and I used it now. Reaching out with my mind, I picked up a chair and slammed it into his face.

  He didn't even blink.

  Then I got scared.

  "What's going on out here?!" Gus bellowed, charging out of the kitchen. "Any fights, and I'll... Skeeve!!"

  "Tell your customer here to put me down before I tear off his arm and feed it to him!" I called, my confidence returning with the arrival of reinforcements.

  I needn't have said anything. The effect of Gus's words on the troll was nothing short of miraculous.

  "Skeeve?" my assailant gaped, setting me gently on my feet. "I say. Bloody good to make your acquaintance. I've heard so much about you, you know. Chumly here."

  The hand which had so recently fastened on my head now seized my hand and began pumping it gently with each adjective.

  "Ummm ... a pleasure, I'm sure," I stammered, trying vainly to retrieve my hand. "Say, weren't you talking differently before?"

  "Oh, you mean Crunch?" Chumly laughed. "Beastly fellow. Still, he serves his purpose. Keeps the riffraff at a distance, you know."

  "What he's trying to say," Gus supplied, "is that it's an act he puts on to scare people. It's lousy for business when he drops in for a visit, but it does mean we can talk uninterrupted. That's about the only way you can talk to Chumly. He's terribly shy."

  "Oh, tosh," the troll proclaimed, digging at the floor with his toe. "I'm only giving the public what it wants. Not much work for a vegetarian troll, you know."

  "A vegetarian troll?" I asked incredulously. "Weren't you about to eat me a minute ago?"

  "Perish the thought," Chumly shuddered. "Presently I would have allowed you to squirm free and run... except, of course, you wouldn't. Quite a spirited lad, isn't he?"

  "You don't know the half of it," the gargoyle answered through his perma-grin. "Why, when we took on Big Julie's army..."