Class Dis-M.Y.T.H.ed

by Robert Asprin

  "Stop that, Gleep," I said, pushing his face away from mine. His breath smelled like a week-dead skunk, and the stink clung almost as well as the odor from the Bazaar's famous Genuine Fake Doggie Doodle with Genuine Odor That Really Sticks to Your Hands. I scrambled to my feet. He surveyed the Pervects, having already tasted them, and leaped on Corporal Bee. To give the youth credit, he didn't blanch as my dragon pinned him against the wall and gave him a good sliming.

  "Gleep!"

  Apparently my dragon, whom I considered a very good judge of character, had decided my new pupil was all right with him.

  "Just push him down," I advised Bee, who looked nervous, or nauseous. Gleep's breath could kill flies at ten paces. "Come on, Gleep! He's not used to dragons. Bunny?"

  "In here, Skeeve!" she called. "Look who's here!"

  I followed her voice into the main room, where Bunny was sitting in a cosy tete-a-tete with a being about seventeen times her bulk. The purple fur and odd-sized moon-shaped eyes were unmistakeable.

  "Chumley!"

  The Troll rose awkwardly to his feet and put out a hand. I ignored it and gave him a hearty hug. It had been months since I'd seen him.

  "Oh, I say!" he muttered shyly. "Me mean, Crunch glad see you!"

  I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that Bee and the Pervects had followed me into the room. Chumley, like most Trolls from the dimension of Trollia, tended to conceal his intelligence, lest the whole package overwhelm denizens of more insecure dimensions. He supplied hired muscle on a freelance basis under the nom de guerre of Big Crunch. Crunch, unlike Chumley, who was extremely well educated and possessed an erudite manner of speaking, expressed himself mainly in monosyllables. Around strangers, he maintained the subterfuge.

  "Let me introduce you to my new apprentices," I said. "From left to right, that's Jinetta, Pologne, Freezia, and Bee."

  Bunny looked startled for a moment then smiled. "See, Chumley, there's no problem. I told you."

  "Good!" Chumley exclaimed, clapping his big hands together heartily. "See? Tolk!"

  From the inglenook at the side of the big fireplace, an irregular brown-and-white shape unwound itself and trotted to Chumley's side. It rose to its hind feet and regarded me with large, chocolate-colored eyes. Tolk looked rather like a big hound with a slightly flattened face, jowls hanging down on either side of big black nose and long mouth. His paws had thick black nails, but fingers instead of pads. Chumley pointed at me.

  "New teacher!" he boomed.

  "Now, wait a minute, Chumley," I said.

  He regarded me with a question in his big moonlike eyes. "Four, why not five?"

  I didn't have a good answer for him. Tolk didn't wait for my approval. He trotted over to the Pervects and panted happily at them.

  "I'm Tolk!" he yipped. "I'm from Canida! Nice to meet you, eh!"

  "Jinetta," the tallest Pervect said, fending off a slurp from the newcomer's long pink tongue. "Give paw?"

  "Hey, I'm better trained than that," Tolk barked. He grinned, showing teeth halfway as sharp as the Pervects' and shook hands all around. "Where you folks from?"

  "Chumley?" I asked, as the five young people introduced themselves. "Who is he, and what's he doing here?"

  "Sorry to descend on you without notice, old chap," Chumley murmured abashedly, keeping his voice down. "No time to explain, what? Tolk was in just such a hurry to find some decent training. I thought of you."

  "Why? You have a lot more experience than I do." Trolls and their sister Trollops tended to have a lot of magikal talent, much more than Klahds possessed overall.

  "Well, I don't practice much, as you know, preferring to depend upon sheer muscle. I consider it more reliable, what? I tend to leave the hocus-pocus to Little Sister. I wanted Tolk taught by someone who is in the field, so to speak."

  I eyed him. "Then why didn't you go to Tananda? She's most definitely in the field, more than I am, lately. In fact, she might even be a better instructor for the Pervects."

  "I wouldn't say this to anyone but a very close friend," Chumley confided, with a glance over my shoulder at the group, "but Tananda isn't much of a teacher. She is not at all interested in taking on a pupil. I might add that she is engaged upon a job, and does not want to confuse Tolk with moral issues."

  "I see," I said. I did. Tananda, besides being a pretty good magician and a very dear friend, was also occasionally an assassin for hire. It was a facet of her talents I didn't want to know more about, and she had never forced me to examine the matter more closely.

  Chumley continued, "I must add, Tananda feels that you are a better all around magician than she is, with the potential for greatness."

  That was going too far. I scoffed. "She never said that."

  Chumley favored me with an earnest expression. "I assure you, she did. I also feel that it is true. Tolk could not be in better hands."

  "Forget it," I said, feeling foolish. "Find another tutor for him."

  The big purple head wagged slowly from side to side. "I'm afraid I am committed. Tolk has invoked a debt I owe his family. I need to forward his education, and swiftly. He has a good deal of untrained talent, and it would be worthwhile to guide him forward."

  I shook my head. "You can do it, Chumley. I can't. No."

  Chumley fixed his big, irregular eyes full of hope on me. "Skeeve, have I ever asked anything of you before?"

  The question stopped me cold. I gave it my best shot, searching back through my memory. Chumley had always been there for me and the rest of the M.Y.T.H., Inc. crew, but had never put us to the test on his own behalf.

  "No, you haven't," I said. "Not a thing that I can recall. On balance, we owe you. I owe you plenty."

  "Well, I wouldn't put it that way," Chumley said modestly. "I know I'm imposing, and I would be terribly grateful to have the matter taken care of. It's temporary, old chap. Five or six weeks, what?"

  "All right," I sighed, hearing an echo in my head of my capitulation to Massha. "He's in."

  Chumley slapped me on the back. The blow nearly flattened me. "Thank you, old shirt."

  "Would you consider an application from someone to whom you don't owe a favor?"

  Chapter Five

  "This is getting out of control."

  Noah

  The familiar high-pitched voice behind me practically shot me into the air. I think I turned all the way around before I landed.

  "Markie!" I exclaimed.

  It was. My one-time ward and would-be character assassin stood a couple of paces away. She still looked as cute and helpless as ever, with her adorable big blue eyes, her mop of golden hair, her tiny frame, all concealing a mind that could strike like a cobra's.

  "Get out of here!" Bunny stormed. My assistant pointed to the door with a magenta fingernail. I recalled that she had borne the brunt of a good deal of Markie's Macchiavellian machinations. Markie didn't, as she once would have, let her pink rosebud of a lower lip tremble fetchingly. Instead, the genuine pathos on her face surprised me.

  "Please hear me out."

  "Wait a minute, Bunny," I said. "What are you doing here, Markie?"

  "As I said, Skeeve," she said ruefully, "I've come to ask a favor."

  "Forget it. Skeeve doesn't do favors for people like you," Bunny said, her eyes flashing. "He did you the only favor you deserve in not blowing your cover."

  The Pervects, Bee and Tolk stared at the tiny child before them, but I wasn't about to enlighten them as to Markie's actions and subsequent unmasking.

  "I thought you'd feel that way," Markie said, nodding in resignation. "I'm so sorry about my behavior when we last met, but it was a job I'd been hired for. You don't like what I do, but it's my profession, like being a Mob moll."

  Bunny's face turned purple, and she started toward Markie with her nails out. I leaped to grab Bunny around the upper arms and hold her back.

  "That was a low blow, Markie," I said.

  Markie looked genuinely distressed. "I didn't mean it as one, Skeev
e. I apologize again, Bunny. It's just a statement of fact, isn't it?"

  "Not any more." I thought it best to intervene before Bunny took matters into her own claws—I mean, hands. Any moment my assistant could break loose from my grip. She worked out daily with weights, and was probably stronger than I was. "This is about you, not her. Why have you come?"

  "It's not for me," Markie said, beckoning over her shoulder. "Come in here, Melvine."

  A boy wandered into the room and favored us with a four-toothed grin.

  "This big lug is my nephew, Melvine." Markie shoved him forward. He stood about one and a half times her size, but with his soft features, round tummy and nearly hairless head he looked like a big baby. For the first time I could really tell that Markie had to be much older than the five or six Klahdish years she looked. "You can see what he did to himself, and now he can't undo it. No Cupy ought to be that big. Even I am above average height for a doll in our dimension."

  "It's not my fault," Melvine grumbled.

  "Oh, yes?" his aunt asked, curling her tiny fists on her hips. "Whose fault, then? Name me another guy anywhere in Cupid who is anywhere close to your height. Name one. I'm waiting." Melvine remained silent. Markie appealed to me again. "You see? He needs help."

  "Why me?" I asked.

  The corner of Markie's mouth quirked up in a tiny grin. "It's your own fault, really. You taught me about good character and honest evaluation. While I was here I saw how your reputation came to be based on those traits. My big fool of a nephew doesn't know how to do anything small. He has no control. As you could probably figure, that makes him even more unpopular than an Elemental School graduate usually is. Melvine has been through about eight tutors, and he's intimidated most of them into approving of everything he does just to keep from having to deal with the aftermath. He's too bright and too powerful for his own good. I know he's screwing up." My other apprentices gawked to hear such words falling from the childish lips. "You kept one of the tightest ships running I have ever seen. Your friends were loyal to you no matter what happened. I admired your integrity. You told people the truth even when it hurt you, but you never tried to hurt anyone's feelings deliberately. My problem comes from my profession: sometimes I don't know when to stop. Melvine needs someone with your fundamental honesty, not to praise him or to clobber him too much. He only needs a steady hand for a few weeks. He ought to get a handle by then."

  "That's right," the pupil said, turning big blue eyes just like his aunt's up to mine. "After that, I'm on my own, I swear."

  I could feel Bunny's eyes burning a message into my brain—over her dead body would she let any relative of Markie's share the roof over her head—but the foolish, ashamed grin on the boy's face touched me. I'd been there myself. If it hadn't been for Aahz and Chumley, and even Bunny, I'd probably have gotten myself into some really stupid situations with no way out.

  "This has nothing to do with our common history," I told Markie. Her eyes shone, and she practically climbed up me to hug me and give me a hearty peck on the cheek.

  "You are one in a million," she said happily. She caught Bunny's fierce expression and jumped down from my chest. "All right. I'm out of here. Melvine can make his own way home at the end of the session. Can he stay here, or does he need to commute from Cupid?"

  "No, there's plenty of room," I assured her absently. Bunny paused for a moment then nodded her head in resignation. "But this doesn't come free."

  "I figured," Markie said, nodding knowingly. "I've got plenty. How much would you like?"

  "Not money," I said. "I don't need your money, and I don't want to take it, knowing how you earned it. No offense."

  "None taken," Markie sighed. "That's why I'm here. So, what do you want?"

  I gestured at the other students. "I want you to come back as a guest lecturer one week. You, too, Chumley."

  "Not good," Chumley said, pulling his big shaggy brow down towards his eyes. "Crunch better fighter than teacher."

  I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you'll think of something to challenge them. They want practical instruction. Isn't that right, ladies?"

  "Yes," Jinetta said cautiously.

  "Good!" I clapped my palms together and rubbed them. "Then it's settled."

  "Thanks again, Skeeve," Markie said, turning large, blond-fringed eyes up to me. "I owe you. I owe you, too, Bunny."

  "I will collect," Bunny assured her. "My Family never forgets a favor."

  "I expect it," Markie said.

  She waved a hand, and the BAMF of displaced air momentarily deafened all of us.

  "Crunch go, too," Chumley announced, looking pointedly at me. "Go home to Trollia. Bye."

  He didn't want to be seen doing magik in front of the students. I drew power out of the force lines that crossed above and beneath the inn, and sent the big Troll away with another loud bang.

  I decided to grab the male bovine by the horns. I drew a breath and turned to my circle of apprentices.

  "Ladies, Tolk and Bee, this is Melvine," I said.

  I realized it wasn't the bull I had to worry about, it was the cows. The Pervects looked furious.

  "Was this some sort of scam to jack up the price your business partner was charging, telling us how reclusive you are?" Freezia demanded. "It looks like you're taking in foundlings right and left, without asking for a dime!"

  "Now, just a minute," Tolk began, a little defensively. "Who are you calling a foundling?"

  "You don't like us?" Melvine whined, his lower lip pouted out.

  "You really expect us to associate with remedial students like these?" Pologne asked me.

  "What's a dime?" Bee asked.

  "My aunt must have been out of her mind," Jinetta said, throwing her hands up in disgust. "You're overcommitting yourself, and we need intensive tutoring. I'm beginning to wonder if you're equal to it. We haven't got much time, and you're making other arrangements—"

  "HOLD IT!" I bellowed, raising my hands. That was it. I might have to come to terms with my conscience over whether or not it was a good idea to do Markie a favor, but it was MY conscience. "Quiet, all of you. ONE: I'm in charge here. I decide who I will teach. Not you. If you don't want to continue as part of a group, then feel free to go back and ask my pa-partner for a refund. TWO: you weren't ever going to have one-on-one tutoring. There were three of you to start with! THREE: you'll be able to help each other out. I can use your assistance, too. As college graduates you will be handy to have as teaching aides. You probably already did some of that at MIP. I'm guessing that the guys won't have had as extensive a formal education as you. You can help them over the bumps, in exchange for advanced tutoring. They might even have something that they can teach YOU."

  "Well," Pologne began, dubiously.

  "The situation is not negotiable," I said flatly. "I don't plan to go easy on you in my lessons, so maybe you ought to make friends with your classmates. Otherwise, you're all out of here. Get it?"

  The Pervects all rocked back on their heels. Melvine stood in the middle of the room, sniveling quietly to himself. Tolk dropped to all fours and trotted over to stand by him, a friendly and sympathetic look on his long face.

  Bee broke the ice. He ambled over and offered a hand to each of the others in turn.

  "Skeeve's right," the skinny soldier said. "I just got out of the army, and one of the most important things I learned is that you can't get by just on your own in a tough situation. How about it? Friends?"

  "Temporarily," Freezia said, taking the hand gingerly.

  "Good," I said, beaming. "Everybody go choose a room. Keep the curtains closed. Dinner's at sunset. Breakfast's at sunrise, local time, and we start classes first thing after that. Got it?"

  All six pupils stopped arguing and gawked at me. Behind them, Gleep tipped me one huge, blue-eyed wink.

  Chapter Six

  "'Roughing it' is staying at a hotel that doesn't have room service."

  K. Carson

  BAMF!

  "…There
yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" Tolk yelped, over and over.

  "Shut UP!" Freezia snarled.

  "But are we there yet?" the doglike creature asked. He turned his big brown eyes to me.

  "Yup," I said. "We're there." I clutched the D-hopper close to my chest so none of them could read the settings, and stuffed it into my belt pouch.

  The students looked around curiously. The landscape was nothing to write home about. I had always thought of Klah as the bleakest place in the universe, but since I'd started magik lessons, first with Garkin, then with Aahz, I'd come to realize I had been born in a fairly decent place.

  Not like this.

  We stood high on a hilltop overlooking a landscape consisting mainly of stone and clay. The hot wind whipped around us, flicking dust into our eyes and nostrils. Scrubby plants hugged the hillside in between rivers of pebbles. Clusters of depressed-looking moss-colored bushes studded with finger-long thorns huddled here and there, not brightening fields of windblown grass. A shallow stream ran downhill, the gurgle of peat-colored water doing nothing to lift the ambience. The sun hovered near the horizon, flinging pale orange rays upward in hopes of raising some cheer on the landscape. It didn't succeed.

  "Welcome to Sear," I announced. "This is where we're going to have our first lesson."

  "What a dump," Pologne said.

  I wanted to offer some kind of sour rejoinder. I had hardly gotten any sleep the night before, getting everything set up. Her attitude dimmed a little of my excitement over this teaching assignment. My former pupil Massha had always been grateful for the time we had spent together, and I had come to appreciate how much she valued my instruction—when I hadn't ducked out on the responsibility. I took a moment to wonder why I had been so reluctant to teach her, and why I had jumped so readily at this job, with not one, but six students, all of different temperaments.

  "What are we doing here?" Melvine asked in a whiny voice. The big baby was bundled neck to heels in a pale-gray garment that only looked like a romper. The bottoms of the feet had very solid, ridged soles, and I realized there were multiple openings for pockets. He wore a cute little cap on his nearly bald head. "I hate sleeping outside. Can't we go back to the inn?"