Myth-Taken Identity

TEN

"That was useless!" Rattila's voice echoed angrily in Wassup's and Yahrayt's minds. "The Pervert turned every single one of your questions back at you, you idiot!"

"Hey, don't be mad, man," Wassup protested. "Dis—I mean, this Gargoyle's a mechanic, not a census taker!"

"Try another tack!"

"Tack?" Wassup's lips moved as he tried to figure out what Rattila meant.

Yahrayt came to the rescue. "I'll figure out a way to get close to 'em, Big Cheese. Over and out."

"... And these amulets will tip you off when you're near a specific magik source," Massha continued her spate, piling silk-wrapped packets into Parvattani's arms. "Once we get ahold of one of these shapeshifters we can tune it to pick up that spell. The amulets are cheap, so they break easily— the gems are only glass—but the good thing is they're easy to replace, too. They're not like the Ring of Oconomowoc. That'd be your best tracker, but there's only one in existence, and it's in a dragon's hoard about seventeen dimensions from here."

Par's eyes had long ago glazed over from her cheerful lecture, but he passed along his burden to the next guard in line.

"And these," Massha added, gleefully seizing a handful of gleaming pebbles and letting them drop through her fingers, "are terrific for keeping you from getting lost."

"We don't need those, madame," Par ventured timidly.

"Well, sure you do ... I guess you don't," Massha corrected herself, with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. This is your stomping ground. I'll take a few, though. I guess that's all here."

Par stepped up to the counter, where a Deveel merchant was rubbing his hands together in joyful anticipation.

"I have a letter of credit from Mr. Moa," Par began, reaching into his tunic for the document.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" the Deveel crooned. "I'll just take that—"

"Hold it right there," I pronounced majestically, before he could put it on the counter.

"What do you want, Pervert?" the Deveel snarled. "This Flibberite and I were about to do business."

"That's right," I agreed. "And I'm his business agent. Now, about these amulets. Six gold pieces each is out of the question ..."

"I still can't believe you got us a fifty percent discount!" Parvattani kept saying.

I whistled as I walked. "That was a pretty nice piece of negotiation," I acknowledged. "Nobody who hangs with me ever pays retail."

Massha and Chumley rolled their eyes. I had to admit that maybe I had kept repeating myself, too, but it had been a damned fine deal. Because of all the years I'd spent on Deva, all the arrangements I'd come to with other Deveels, I knew when to cut the offer and crank up the volume. About halfway through the negotiations we were yelling at one another at the top of our lungs just as if we had been in a dusty tent in the middle of the Bazaar. The low, civilized, conversational tone people generally used here in The Mall was left far behind. I found it kind of refreshing. The Deveel seemed surprised at first, but like any merchant of his species the bartering he learned at his mommy's knee came right back to him. The highest percentage I paid for any item was the first one we dealt on. After that I started a lot lower and fought a lot harder. It had been such a frustrating few days there in The Mall chasing shadows it was really nice to win at something for a change. I strutted all the way to the next store on Massha's list.

"—No, I don't want to enter a drawing," Massha exclaimed, batting at a fairy clad in diaphanous pink who fluttered beside her pushing ticket slips into her hands.

"Go 'way," Chumley ordered, swatting at the winged pest. The fairy flew hastily out of reach.

We got pestered a lot in between stops. Moa had assured me that all solicitors carried a license, a blue crystal that they had to display on demand. Most of these didn't have 'em. Rattila kept sending minions after us, some pretty, some obnoxious, some ugly and menacing, all of them nosy. I wondered how he managed to sneak all of these people in and out of the building every day. Then I realized that they looked like everybody else. For all I knew he had six shapechangers who could turn into a hundred or so customers apiece working for him.

"All the more reason," Eskina insisted, when I broached the subject, "that we be well prepared and well armed." She cocked a pocket crossbow and tucked it into her thick fur coat. It disappeared without a trace.

"What else have you got in there?" I asked, with a wicked grin.

She winked. "I must know you much better before I tell you that." "That one," Yahrayt whispered, pointing, as he hovered over the head of Lawsy, who was disguised as a Mall guide. The Flibberite female whose image she wore had been a find Rattila gloated over. Dinii was a deep-seated shopaholic who never kept track of the purchases on her employee credit card. She paid the minimum on whatever balance her statement showed. At this point she was years behind on her payments, but the card was the only one that the administration didn't have a watch on. She came in very handy when one of the mall-rats needed to be in a restricted area during business hours. Dinii's identification was all up-to-date. They had to be careful not to use Dinii up; she had to keep her job in The Mall, or the cloned pass card that was their key to going where she could go would be changed.

"She's friendly?" Lawsy asked, studying the big female who hovered just above the heads of the crowd.

"She talks the most," Yahrayt corrected Lawsy. "Like, the Big Cheese told us to look out for opportunity. I think she's it. The big purple guy talks in one-note words. The other one is nasty. Go where the going's easiest."

Lawsy straightened her neat uniform. "I get it. Later, man."

"Later, dude."

"—Well, you don't want to skewer this thief," Massha argued, as Parvattani pawed through racks of polearms looking for the most serviceable.

"I do," I put in.

Massha ignored me. "You want to snare him, at a distance."

"Before he can get away," Par nodded.

The weapons shop salesclerk, a bronze-skinned individ- ual, nodded until his chin clanged. "May I suggest these?" He rapped his chest with a shiny fist. "You can try them out on me."

"How was that?" Massha asked in a low voice, as we left the weapons shop.

I twisted my mouth. "You did fine. You know, you're not an apprentice any longer. You really need to stop doubting yourself. What would—er, what would Skeeve say?"

Massha instantly snapped out of her funk. "You're right, Aahz." She sighed.

"Take a break," I advised. "Your part's done. Now I'm going to give Par and his men a pep talk on strategy. You can give them all the toys they can carry, but you're not going to turn them into operators overnight. I'm just gonna give them a few rules to follow."

"Wilco, Green and Scaly," Massha agreed, her good mood restored. "Guess I've spent so much time worrying about Skeeve I'm winding myself up in knots."

"Take a look at the big picture," I suggested. I'm not a big one for the Dutch-uncle routine, but she needed to cool down, or she was going to break down. "I want to tear that impostor's head off, but you don't see me wasting energy fidgeting. Relax."

Massha was pretty savvy, or she would never have risen to jobs as local chief magician in two different dimensions. She nodded and headed for the nearest jewelry store. Everyone relaxes in their own way.

"You'd make a good mall-rat!" the pert, uniformed clerk beamed approvingly. Massha removed her nose from the glass display case outside Sparklies 'R' Us. "Aren't those pretty?" Massha glanced back at the glistening baubles on display. "They're all pretty."

"You like blue? I like blue, too. I noticed that you're interested in the bangles. Would you like to try one on?" When Massha hesitated, the girl grabbed her arm and started to tow her inside the shop. "Come on! You don't know if you'll love it until it's on your arm."

"Well—" Massha allowed herself to be persuaded. "I do deserve a chance to try on something nice. I've just spent the entire morning shopping for ... utilitarian items."

The young Flibberite female looked blank.

"Guy stuff," Massha clarified.

"Oh! Well, come and sit down. This is my favorite store in The Mall. Even when the sale music isn't playing it's almost hypnotic to come in here, isn't it? So, what would you like to try on first?"

The displays of rings, necklaces, earrings, and other adornments were arranged by color. Massha glanced from red stones to clear to green to purple to black, and inevitably back to blue. "How about those?"

The girl opened the back of the case and came over with a trayful of rings. She pointed to them one at a time. "Invisibility, growth-shrink, talking to plants, poison detector, gold assayer, and that one will make you look five years younger."

"Only five?"

The girl looked a little embarrassed. "It's not very expensive, madame. You get what you pay for." She cocked her head. "You don't need a youth ring, really. Why would you even want to consider it?"

Massha grinned. "Well, my husband and I weren't kids when we met. I kind of wish he could have seen me in my prime." She poked fingers into the rolls of flesh at her sides. "A little less of this, and a few less wrinkles!"

The girl shook a finger at her. "I'm sure he doesn't see any of that when he looks at you."

Massha laughed. "You're sweet. All right, how about that one?" She looked approvingly at the plant-speech ring with its forest green gems arranged like petals around a carved purple center stone. The girl touched the golden shank. It grew to accommodate Massha's finger.

"Let me just get a begonia so you can try it out."

Massha looked around with approval at the rest of the shop. The cases against the wall gleamed with light generated by the jewelry itself. From the center of the ceiling swags of silk and velvet swirled down to the floor, which was lined with a plush silk carpet that matched the comfy padded chair she sat upon. An elderly Djinni gentleman across the room peered over half glasses perched on the end of his nose as he helped a large Impish matron try on enormous bejeweled necklaces.

A potted plant plunked down on the glass case.

"Why not try out basic conversation with this one?" the girl asked.

"Er, how are you?" Massha inquired of the tall stalks adorned with tiny, fragrant blossoms.

"Qui? Quelle disastre sous ensemble!"

"I'm sorry," the girl apologized. "That's French lavender, but it's the only plant I could find in a hurry."

"Never mind." Massha hastily pulled off the ring and replaced it in the rack. She didn't need a ring that let her hear vegetables making rude comments about her choice of clothing. The invisibility ring might be useful. She waited for the girl to size it, then invoked the spell. A glimpse in the mirror revealed an outline and a pair of disembodied eyes floating in its midst. "I don't think this one is working very well."

"Oops!" the clerk exclaimed, diving forward to make an adjustment. Massha turned her head this way and that, admiring the complete absence of herself she could see. "Nice workmanship."

"Only the finest alchemists and artifact manufacturers are represented here," the girl assured her. "Have you shopped here before?"

"Well, not in this store," Massha explained, taking off the ring. A few odier customers browsed into the shop. Massha kept an eye on them in the mirror. Which of them might be a shapechanging thief? The girl presented her with a tray of bracelets, chattering all the time as she helped her try on one glittering piece after another. Massha replied absently, enjoying the feel of quality magik items.

"That's beautiful," the girl noted. Massha admired the woven net of gold on her wrist. "And absolute proof against cold. I'm sorry it's so warm in here."

"I don't really need anything like that," Massha explained. "Girls my size are usually pretty warm."

"Well, then, this one"—the clerk proffered another wristlet—"is proof against heat. You'll notice that the weave is reversed."

"Really?" Massha asked, avidly. She turned it to admire from every angle. "I really do like that. It could come in handy in this place. How can all of you stand the heat?" Then she looked at the price tag. "No. Too much."

"Oh, well! It's fun to look, isn't it?" Lawsy burbled cheerfully. As soon as Massha's gaze shifted, she dropped the bracelet into the cuff of her boot. She had to be careful which way she moved, to avoid being spotted by the owner. All the walls had mirrors, but at present she was still hidden from his view by Massha's bulk. "How about this beautiful piece? Or this? Or how about this?" She shuffled out an array of bracelets and bangles. The Jahk tried them all on.

She kept returning to one arm ring studded with square, deep blue stones. According to the tag, the bangle was a powerful artifact, useful for increasing the potential of another item placed in contact with it. Lawsy grinned to herself and removed the tag. That could be a lot of fun if the Jahk bought it. Rattila would approve of her initiative.

"This is a very pretty piece," she stressed. "Do you have a lot of blue clothing?"

"Not really," Massha admitted. "I tend to go for warm colors. They go with my personality." She let out a big, hearty laugh. Lawsy concentrated on memorizing every single nuance. "But I like this." "Do you prefer jewelry for its looks, or its ability?"

"Oh, ability," Massha confided. "No one ought to know better than me how unimportant looks are to what's inside. Don't get me wrong; I love pretty things, but a plain old hunk of silver won't fetch my coffee for me."

"You are so right," the disguised mall-rat agreed, with a friendly smile. "So, would you like this wrapped, or will you wear it?

"I'll wear it," Massha decided. "How much?"

"Only thirty-five!" Lawsy exclaimed. "Very reasonable for such a beautiful piece, don't you think?"

Massha nodded. "Not bad. Yes, I think I will take it."

She pulled open her purse and began to count out coins.

"What's going on here?"

Lawsy looked up in alarm. Hovering above them, his face deep blue with fury, was the store owner. She hadn't been paying attention. The other customer was on her way out of the shop. She gave the fizzing Djinn a helpless grin.

He wasn't mollified.

"What are you doing back there?" he demanded.

Lawsy rose at once and moved out from behind the counter.

"I was just helping this fine lady try things on," she chirped. "I could see you were too busy. We were having a nice chat! It's my job, to make the customer feel at home."

Massha, alarmed, gawked at the mall-rat.

"She doesn't work for you?"

"No, charming lady," the Djinn replied, in a milder tone. "She's a survey taker here in the mall. See the badge? Thank you for your help," he added, though he didn't sound grateful, "but next time, don't do that."

"Of course," Lawsy exclaimed. She reached over and patted Massha on the hand. "I'll just be going, now that we have what we want."

"Thanks." Massha smiled at her. She waited as the jeweler snapped his fingers and summoned up a receipt.

"Shall I wrap it, charming lady?" the Djinn asked, then did a double take. "I know you! My cousin Rimbaldi in The Volcano tells me what a joy you are to dress!"

The Jahk's cheeks pinked up. "No bag, thanks. I'll wear it." She tucked it onto her arm with the rest of her swag. Lawsy backed hastily out of the store and ran as fast as she could for the Rat Hole.

"Beautiful, beautiful," Rattila slavered, fondling the bracelet again and again. "And she spoke to you. I heard it all. How nice that she was willing to open herself up so readily to your inquiries. Good job."

Lawsy quivered with happiness. She didn't get much praise from the Big Cheese.

Rattila tasted the bracelet, his teeth rasping against the soft metal. "Married, likes blue jewelry, sensitive about her body, knows about magik devices—I can make use of her expertise." He thrust his claw into the heap of garbage and came up with the Master Card. He touched the bracelet to it, and both of them glowed brightly. The gleam was echoed in Rattila's red eyes.

"Yes, yes!" he gloated. "I feel her power joining mine!" He closed his eyes and envisioned the credit balance in the Master Card. It was not quite full yet, but it soon would be. As the mall-rats chanted, he produced thin cards, flimsier and less potent than the usual collectors. "These are temporaries," he explained carefully to his followers. "Do not stop trying to get her to fill out an application so we can devour her completely. Now, spend, spend, spend! Do not cross the visitors' paths. I want all of it to come as a surprise to Master Aahz when Mistress Massha falls into my power."