Myth-Fortunes

Chapter 7

Once out of the Imp's sight, I popped us back to Deva. We appeared in the president's office in M.Y.T.H., Inc.'s headquarters in the Bazaar with an explosion of displaced air. Everyone looked up.

"Hi, everyone!" I said. At her desk, Bunny was poring over a sheaf of papers, looking concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing much," Bunny said. She smiled up at us. She wore her thick red hair cut very short at the nape of her neck, like a Pyxie. The hairdo and her large blue eyes made her look cute and vulnerable. The former was true, the latter absolutely not. She was no more unprepared than my dragon, whose big blue eyes also misled people as to the brains behind the stare. No one made the mistake of crossing either one twice. "My Uncle Bruce just sent over some paperwork. I didn't really expect it . . . but, hey, forget it. Let's start the meeting. I'm going home to visit my mother tonight, and she'll skin me if I'm late for dinner."

"No problem," Aahz said, settling back in the armchair in the corner of the president's office. "There's not much to report on our end."

It was Bunny's new custom to have a group meeting once a week in the M.Y.T.H., Inc., headquarters. Partners and associates working on projects—if it was possible to get away from them—to compare notes and give everyone else a run-down on their progress. Guido and Nunzio, a pair of Mob enforcers who had been sent to me by Don Bruce, had also initially protested the idea of a weekly confab, but only out of loyalty to me and the way I used to run things. I thought it was an intelligent idea and had said so.

Apart from that, I hadn't seen any real moments when the others showed difficulty accepting Bunny as the president. She was, after all, the niece of their former employer. Still, she didn't take their respect for granted, any more than I had. But some of our clients had to adjust their expectations, being shown in to the knockout redhead whom other firms might have had taking appointments behind the front desk. She had only acted as my public interface while I was attempting to be a sole practitioner, and even now I feel foolish having given such a menial job to such a talented person. Bunny had a degree in accounting, a knack for figuring out how things worked, and an eye for style. I appreciated that she didn't hold it against me, and hadn't made me take on a subordinate role once she took charge. I owed her, as I owed all of my friends and partners.

I settled back in the chair that she had picked out for me and tried not to feel jealous as she sat down behind the desk that had been mine for so long. Bunny gave me a look of understanding but without apology. However, I hated her new chair. The back was made of thin wire woven into a big oval and molded so that it stuck forward into the sitter's lower spine. The seat cradled the rear end like a basket. We'd all tried it when the Deveel salesman brought a sample buy. I liked to sit with my legs comfortably

splayed. This chair was made to keep a lady's knees together. Bunny claimed she was very comfortable.

The rest of her—formerly my—office had been redecorated to suit her tastes, sleek and subtle. I admit that my style is more the 'finding it out on the curb' chic, or 'it felt good to sit on.' The walls were a pale shade between tan and pink, with white trim like whipped cream sprayed into curlicues. An oval mirror on a stand opened through extradimensional space Bunny's personal wardrobe, which was extensive, to say the least. It meant she could change into something more formidable if an upcoming meeting demanded it. Objets d'art hung on the walls or stood on plain little pedestals that were elegant in themselves. Her files occupied a tiny box on top of the pristine, pale wood desktop. Usually she kept it cleared of everything but the box, her coffee cup, and Bytina, her PDA, or Perfectly Darling Assistant, a flat roundel of red metal about the size of her palm that kept her notes and sent letters for her.

Across from the desk were a sleek couch and a carved bloodwood chair with needlepoint cushions on the seat and back. Neither piece of furniture invited a long stay, to get clients to come to the point of their visit as swiftly as possible. Her partners weren't expected to use those. On meeting day, Bunny opened yet another hidden closet that she concealed our personal furniture, each item chosen especially by her for us. My chair, as comfortable as a hammock, was covered in a loosely woven cocoa-colored fabric that looked like old sacks but felt soft to the touch. Guido favored a seat that kept him upright, in case he had to spring into action. His chair, made of heavy wood, would have been a great weapon in a fight. It rolled on puffs of magik that allowed it to scoot across the floor. Nunzio liked shiny leather padding. His upholstered chair was the color of oxblood and smelled like money. Tananda's, like Tananda herself, was silken to the touch and tougher than it looked. She sat cradled in its gleaming, golden depths, like an emerald in a ring. I glanced around for the heavy, steel-framed seat with the shaggy brown cover favored by her brother, the Troll. It wasn't against the wall where it usually stood during meetings. "Where's Chumley?" I asked.

"Big Brother's on a private assignment," Tananda said, filing her nails. "Where?" I asked.

The file paused. "It's confidential," Tananda admitted. "He started the contract a long time before M.Y.T.H., Inc., went into operation."

I didn't push further. When Chumley came back, I could always ask him. Some missions were only confidential throughout their duration. We'd often been called on to provide security for a wizard working on a new invention he didn't want to see duplicated all over the Bazaar or some other marketplace before he was finished with it.

"Pookie's not coming, either," Bunny added. "She and Spider are working for mercenaries in Dromolind."

"Which side are they on?" Guido asked.

"The Dromoderries," Bunny said.

Guido grunted. "My sympathies for the other side. Should we send flowers to the losers?"

"I doubt they'd appreciate the gesture," Bunny said. "But it's sweet of you to suggest it."

Guido's cheeks reddened.

Gleep didn't have a chair. He curled around mine and rested his head on my feet. Buttercup, my war unicorn, was also absent but voting.

"So, how'd the prisoner transfer go in Diberot?" Bunny asked Nunzio.

"It went fine, Miss Bunny," Nunzio said, uneasily. "Look, I know we agreed to do it, but isn't there a less

brutal way to make sure a guy shows up for his wedding?"

Bunny was not without sympathy. "It was the sixth time he'd tried to leave Lady Tumult at the altar. She was just making sure. Guido, you checked in with the Merchants' Association for my uncle?"

The big man in the wide-shouldered, pin-striped suit straightened at her address. "Yes, Miss Bunny. Everybody was reportin' no problems at all. I made the collection. Our cut has been deposited as accordin' to our usual custom. Nobody tried to stint us, so no one required any excess persuasion. It's all there." Guido aimed a thumb at another delicate little box on a tiny shelf of black, polished wood. When you dropped pieces into it, they landed in our saferoom at the Gnome's Bank and Trust in Zoorik. This was another new change. While I had favored keeping our money in a strongbox here in the tent, Bunny had decided it was too much of a temptation to thieves. She let it be known that we only had expense money on hand.

Not that 'expense money' for us was a few coppers. My favorite old strongbox still stood about half full of gold, silver and jewels. It wasn't hard to find, either. At the moment it was propping up one end of the table in our atrium next to the mermaid fountain. If we needed money, we just needed to pry up the tabletop and take a handful of pieces.

Bunny smiled at me.

"Skeeve, what are you working on?"

"I'm between assignments," I said. "That Werewolf who wanted to talk to me at lunchtime didn't show up, so I went with Aahz this afternoon."

Bunny turned to Aahz, who had kicked back in his reclining armchair. At his elbow was a specially made drink holder with a diameter the size of a dinner plate. It held a wine cup deeper than a well bucket. "How'd it work out with Samwise? Should we take him on as a client?"

"Yes, I think so," he replied. None of the enthusiasm he had shown in Ghordon registered in his voice. I gave him a puzzled glance, and he shot a look at me that told me to keep quiet. "All the guy needs is someone to fix up the books and oversee the spending. And he's got some problems with on-the-job accidents."

"A lot of them?" Guido inquired. He twined his fingers and extended his arms outward. His knuckles exploded with a loud crack! While working exclusively for Don Bruce, he and Nunzio had been called on to arrange similar "accidents."

"Plenty," Aahz said. He waved a diffident hand. "But I figure it's a disgruntled employee causing trouble. I'll find the guy and get him to knock it off."

"You goin' to need some backup?" Guido cracked his knuckles deafeningly. "I got some time free."

"I've got the kid with me," Aahz said, aiming a thumb my way. "If we need some muscle, I can ring the bell."

Bunny asked, "What's your recommendation?"

"I say go for it. It's an interesting project. Massive construction, not quite unique but with the possibility of becoming historic. I think it'd be good to be connected with it. Samwise's business is slow at the moment, but if it picks up as I think it could, with a little expert guidance, we could be in for a nice profit. In fact," he added, in a casual manner, "I decided to invest in it myself."

Bunny nodded, a question in her eyes. "You believe in it that much?"

"I figure it makes it a little more worthwhile to me if I have a piece of the action," Aahz said. That much was true. I always took more interest in businesses in which we had a share. The Even-Odds had become a frequent hangout for a friendly game of cards.1

"All right," Bunny said. "Since it's the only piece of new business at hand, let's take a vote on it. Everyone in favor of Aahz and Skeeve consulting for Samwise And Company, raise your hand."

Without hesitation, I threw up my arm. Everybody else voted in the positive, including Bunny, though her hand went up more slowly than the others. Why?

"Carried," Bunny said, tapping a bright red nail down on Bytina's surface. The little PDA warbled, indicating that it had made the note. "So, what will you do next?"

"You know, fix up the books, help organize the finances, oversee the spending, and make sure M.Y.T.H., Inc., gets its cut.

"Find a solution to the accidents as early as you can. It might just be some people trying to get the day off."

"Not the guys who almost got squashed by a stone. They'd be taking more than the day off. Or the Kobold who took a dive off the high platform," Aahz pointed out.

Bunny raised her eyebrows. "Industrial sabotage? Who else is interested in the site?"

The scales on Aahz's forehead went down. "I already made a note to check around," he snarled. "I didn't get into this business yesterday."

Bunny smiled sweetly. "No one suggested you had. I assumed that was your first step. That would have been mine. But our styles are different. What will you do after that?"

Aahz grinned, the bad temper dissipating as swiftly as it had come. Bunny was a natural at managing people, even cranky Pervects.

"Depends on what I find out about Samwise's business rivals. The guy across the way, for example. He and the Imp seem to have split the Zyx Valley between them, but maybe Diksen wants the whole place to himself. I don't think it'll be that big a deal. The biggest problem will be convincing the employees that there's no curse on the place." Aahz reached for his wine cup, or rather, bucket, and lifted it to his lips. The bottom fell out of it.

Wine gushed out all over his clothes. Aahz jumped up, swearing. Pervect cursing creates its own miasma. All the potted plants in the room suddenly turned brown and wilted. Aahz squeezed a rainshower of red liquid out of his natty tunic. He picked up his cup, now in two pieces, and glared around the room.

"Who did that?" he demanded.

"No one," I said. Tananda and I both checked. No outside magik had touched the cup. I couldn't detect anything special about it. Just in case, we examined our own goblets closely. Mine seemed to be intact. I pulled up some magik to dry Aahz off, but I wasn't that good at stain removal. The more I tried, the more

of the shirt the purple blotch covered. I frowned and readied another spell.

"Stop that!" he bellowed, backing away from me. "You're making it worse. I'll take it to Zafnir the tailor three doors down." He turned to Bunny. "Are we done wasting time here? I've got a lot to do before I go back to Ghordon in the morning!"

Bunny glanced at Bytina and let out a squeal. "Ooh, I'd better get going. My mother is going to scream! If there isn't any further business?"

"No," we chorused.

"Good! Meeting adjourned." Bunny stood and adjusted her dainty jacket. "Tananda, can you give me a lift home?"

"Why not?" Tananda said. "There's a shop I want to visit near her house. The manager's really adorable." She gave a wicked smile. The two of them laughed loudly as Tananda waved a hand. They vanished with a loud bamf!

Aahz didn't say another word. He stalked off through the door of the tent, wringing out his clothes and growling to himself. I thought about catching up, but all I could do was draw attention to the accident and my part in it.

"Hey, Boss?" Guido asked. I turned to find him and Nunzio at my elbow.

"Hi, guys," I said. "Want to get some dinner? I hear there's a new Wyvern restaurant down by the grand promenade."

"Uh, maybe later, Boss."

I smiled. "You know, you don't have to call me that any more. I appreciate it, but Bunny's the boss now."

"We have infinite respect for Miss Bunny," Guido said. "However, if you would do us the favor of acceptin' our ongoin' respect, it would be a favor to us."

I was touched. "Gee, guys, I don't feel as if I really deserve

it."

"You do," Nunzio said. "It isn't as if we throw our support around to just anyone. It has and continues to be a pleasure to work with you."

"I feel the same way, guys. Thank you." They both still looked concerned. "Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"We was goin' to ask you just the same thing," Guido said. "Is there somethin' the rest of us ought to know?"

I wrinkled my forehead. "What do you mean? About what?"

Guido tilted his massive head to look at me sideways. "Okay, Boss, you don't have to go all innocent on us. Far be it from me to poke my nose into somethin' that I shouldn't. We're not tryin' to snoop into personal business. Right, Nunzio?"

"Just as you say, cousin," Nunzio agreed. I blinked.

"I think I missed something, Guido," I said, trying to force my brain to make sense of what he had just said. "Let's start over. Ask me what you want to know. I've never held back anything from you fellows. You know that."

"Dat's why we trust you," Guido agreed. "Okay, I will be more directly blunt than I originally was. For what reason did Aahz just buy himself a tomb?"

"Well, he really liked the site," I said. "You can't believe how amazing the view was from the top of that pyramid, and the workmanship that the Ghords put into each one is absolutely unbelievable. I admit, I almost got swept up in the hype, too; but I wouldn't get any real use out of one for a long time. ..." My voice trailed off. I felt as if I had just been hit by an oncoming Gargoyle. "I have no idea at all. Aahz seems fine. He never said a word to me about feeling . . . under the weather," I said weakly. "He'd tell me if he was sick, wouldn't he?"

"Maybe you're the last one," Guido said, "seein' as how you are the closest person to him that we know of, nephews and cousins notwithstandin'. I might trust Pookie, but not that Rupert, and Pookie don't exactly invite confidences from us, not even Aahz."

"That's true." I sat heavily on the footstool of one of the armchairs in the tent's vast atrium. Gleep understood my distress and came to insinuate his head underneath my palm. I stroked him. "I don't know. He didn't say anything. I mean, I haven't seen him for months. Anything could have happened in that time. When I first got back to the Bazaar not long ago, he had been home seeing his mother."

"Or so he said," Guido pointed out. "A visit to a medical professional might be somethin' he wanted to keep to himself."

My brain felt as if it was spinning. It was a lot to take in. Aahz had always been more than healthy, or so he seemed. Maybe I wouldn't know what to look for. Pervects had little in common physically with Klahds, and I was no doctor. I would have to ask around and see if he had been consulting a doctor. Chances were that he wouldn't use a physician anywhere in the notoriously porous Bazaar, where everything was for sale, even information about conversations and treatments that should remain private between a doctor and patient.

But if Aahz didn't confide in me, considering that I had been out of sight, if not out of reach, there was one person he might have. Then and there I made up my mind to do something that I had meant to do for a very long time. Now I had two reasons instead of one. I turned to the cousins.

"You've given me a lot to think about. In the meanwhile, I've got a favor to ask."

"Anythin', Boss," Guido said. "You don't even haveta ask."

"It's just a little piece of information. Nunzio, you know more about the inns and restaurants in the Bazaar. Let me get your opinion. ..."

I left Gleep in the office with very specific instructions and ran out to take care of two errands.

When I returned, my dragon was on his back in the middle of the floor, eyes slitted, crooning, as Tananda ran her fingertips up and down his belly.

"Hi, tiger," Tananda said. "I jumped back here after I dropped Bunny in Klah. Gleep kept circling around me every time I headed for the door. He didn't want me to leave. I've got to check in with a client in the Fleeced Customer Inn."

"Sorry," I said. "That was my doing. I wanted just a minute to speak with you without any of the others

around. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," the Trollop said, smiling up at me. Gleep let out a moan redolent with sulfur fumes that made us both cough. "What's on your mind?"

"I, uh . . . " Now that the moment was upon me, I could hardly force myself to talk. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she said. She leaned forward. The action shifted her generous decollete forward against the low-cut green deerskin top she was wearing, causing a change in the garment's geometry that made my blood pressure shoot through the roof. "What can I do for you?"

"Well..." I swallowed nervously and ran a finger around the inside of my collar. Before I could corral them and let them out of the paddock one at a time, my words rushed out of my mouth all at once. "I was wondering if you would go out to dinner with me. Tomorrow. Or the day after. Whenever. I mean, if you would like to."

Tananda looked taken aback, as I was afraid she might be. Then she realized she might have hurt my feelings and brought her face under control.

"You'd like me to go out with you?"

"I really would," I said. I pulled myself together and remembered the speech I had memorized. "I mean, if you would do me the honor of having dinner with me, I'd consider it a big favor."

She tilted her head as if trying to figure out if I was joking. I gave her my most sincere, open expression. She smiled at me. "It would be a pleasure. Tomorrow evening is fine."

"That's great!" I said. "Okay. I've heard of this great restaurant about six miles from here on the edge of the Home Entertainment zone. Say about seven o'clock or so? I'll make a reservation."

"Great," Tananda said. "Formal? Informal? What's the dress code?"

I was the wrong person to ask about clothes, no matter how long Bunny had been teaching me the ins and outs of fashion. "Uh, kind of nice, I guess. Not wedding-reception nice, but not just drop in off the street nice. That's what it looked like when I checked the place out."

"Seven o'clock, then," she said. "I'd better get back to this. The client's expecting it by close of business. It's an unexpected invitation, tiger, but it'll be nice. Thanks." She clamped me in a solid kiss, then undulated out the door.

I recovered enough to say thanks as the tent flap dropped.

Gleep popped up and laved my face with his tongue. I nearly gagged at the smell of his slime, though I appreciated the gesture.

"Good . . . idea," he said.

Did I mention that my dragon can talk? When I told Guido that I don't hold back anything from my colleagues, that wasn't completely true. Gleep's ability to speak was one thing that he and I kept between us. I hadn't even known at first how long it took baby dragons to become verbal, and considering how often he was underfoot, it might become awkward if I let it be known now. Someday, though, we'd let everyone know.

But I'd done it! I'd finally worked up the nerve. Inordinately pleased, I gave Gleep a vigorous scratch between the ears and went out to confirm a reservation for the next evening.