Myth-Told Tales

MYTH-TER RIGHT By Robert Asprin and Jody Lynn Nye

I sauntered into the Palace of Possiltum like I owned the place, pretty much my normal way of entering a building. Massha's summons had sounded urgent, but I wasn't going to look as though I was in a hurry, in case the problem she was having was with someone here. I had been taking some time alone for myself, but I didn't like it when my friends were in trouble.

“Hey, Kaufuman,” I called to one of the uniformed guards at the portcullis. “How's it hanging?”

For a moment the pink-faced guy goggled. There was only one short, green-scaled guy with handsomely pointed ears, mysterious yellow eyes, and dagger-pointed four-inch fangs in the kingdom, to my knowledge. Kaufuman recognized me immediately.

“Lord Aahz, sir!” Immediately he straightened up and held his halberd higher. I threw him a salute as I went by, sighing over the inadequacy of sharp pointy sticks as deterrents to invasion. I had never been able to convince Hugh Badaxe to go more high-tech in the castle armament. He claimed that they could get it if they wanted it, but in the meantime it just meant more accidents. Couldn't argue there. For what Queen Hemlock paid her soldiers, she was lucky to get men who could hold the weapons the right way up, let alone ones who were as dedicated to her defense as the guys who served her and Rodrick.

I ran into the current Minister of Agriculture on the stairs leading to Skeeve's — I mean, the quarters of the Court Magician. Even after a few months I was still not used to the status quo. “Hey, Beadle, Massha upstairs?”

“Oh, hello, Lord Aahz,” the square-built Klahd said, peering up from his scrolls of paperwork. The guy really needed a good secretary. “No, I believe the Lady Magician is in the Residence. The cottage. Out in the gardens.” He waved a vague hand.

“I know the way.”

Since she'd married General Hugh Badaxe and taken over Skeeve's job as Court Magician, Massha had really blossomed. She'd gained confidence, starting to rely upon her own magikal skills as much as the wealth of gizmos that hung jingling about her more than generous figure.

When I got to the cottage, a wedding present from Don Bruce, Massha was hanging in the air like an orange balloon in the cathedral-ceilinged living room, supervising a couple of guys on a ladder who were replacing the chandelier.

“Careful, you cuties! There are sixty crystal drops on this one, and I want sixty to get the floor all at the same time. Get it?”

“Yes, Lady Massha,” they chorused as if they'd heard it before. But one of them accidentally knocked a hanging prism loose, and it fell.

“There, what did I tell you?” she exclaimed, tilting into a nosedive to save the crystal, but I got to it before she did.

“Did you lose something?” I asked, holding it up to her.

“Aahz, sweetie!” she cried, throwing her arms around me. Between her strength and her levitation bracelet, she lifted me right off the ground. “You came! Thank you.”

“So,” I said, when I got my breath back, “what's the problem?”

“Come this way,” Massha said, leading me through the archway into the kitchen-dining area. “We can get some privacy in here. I love this house to pieces, but it's cozy — read ‘small’ in real estate terms.” She gestured to a large carved wooden chair with a cushion on the seat and a few small pillows to stuff in between sore lumbar muscles and the tall curved back. “That's Hugh's favorite chair. It's low slung so he can stick his legs out in front of him. He hates footstools.”

“Too easy to knock out from under you in a confrontation,” I agreed. Badaxe and I had been on opposite sides at one time, but never on the subject of strategy. “Glad to hear he's not going soft even though he went in for wedded bliss.”

“It's great,” Massha said, firmly. “When you find the right person, it's heaven. You should try it, Aahz.”

“Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt,” I said, settling into the chair with pleasure. It really was comfortable.

She drew me a mug of beer from a cask in a cradle on the counter. All the comforts of home. “So, what's so urgent? You've evaded the question twice. I know there's a favor involved, but we're old friends. The answer's yes on almost anything, exceptions being on things like getting married again.”

Massha let her antigravs bring her down to earth, and she perched on the front of a handsome upholstered chair made to her measure. I could have curled up in it side-ways.

“I just feel awkward knowing I have to call in a favor,” Massha said with a sigh. “Do you do much formal hunting?”

“No. If I'm hungry I know a thousand restaurants a D-hop away. If I'm really stuck out in the boonies I'll kill and eat whatever looks edible, no ceremony involved. The formal stuffs like the guy said, ‘the unspeakable in pursuit of the uneatable.’” I glanced at her. She was plucking at the edge of her orange harem pants with uneasy fingers. “Why don't you take riding lessons from Hugh?”

Massha dropped the filmy cloth and gave me an exasperated expression. “Aahz, honey, look at me. You've known me for years. Can you see me on a horse?”

“Well, no,” I admitted. Massha had no illusions about her figure, and I cared enough about her as a friend not to pretend I didn't understand. “But you don't expect me to do the riding, do you? I scare the hell out of horses.”

“Not these,” she assured me hastily. “They'll handle a Pervect. They're trained to hunt beside dragons.”

Some memory stirred. “Massha,” I asked warily. “How'd you get involved with the Wylde Hunt?”

“Princess Gloriannamarjolie is an old pal,” Massha said. “I was her babysitter for a while on Brakespear. She was a real brat when she was six or seven. No one had ever said ‘no’ to her before I did. There were some pretty fierce tantrums before she learned her limits. She liked it when I did magik for her, and I thought there was a great girl inside all that spoiled nonsense. We achieved a mutual respect, and we've been corresponding off and on for years. Now she's old enough to lead the hunt, and she asked for my help.”

“She's the quarry? It's a suicide mission!” Unlike the Klahds, who rode horses and followed a pack of dogs after fox-wolves over fields and through forests, a brutal enough sport, Brakespear had a pack of dragons that pursued a wily princess across the landscape. The hunt began at dawn. If the princess kept away from the hunters until sunset she was free. If the dragons caught up with her, well, there usually wasn't much left The mask or ears was awarded to the winning hunter. I was appalled that this was still going on.

Massha read the look on my face. “Those days are gone. It's only scent-hunting now. Glory's got to keep away from the hounds until sunset. The hunters are judged on style, fair play, riding, control of their dragons, and, if they're lucky, catching up with the princess. She's been training all her life for this. She's ready.”

“But for this well need a dragon for the pack. We haven't got one.”

“Yes, we have,” Massha said, with a little coy smile that should have sent me racing out the door as soon as I saw it. “I borrowed one.” She opened the back door of the cottage. A sinuous blue form twisted around in its own length at the noise, recognized me, and came streaking toward me. It knocked me over and started licking my face with a long pink tongue and breath that smelled like a volcano's dung heap.

“Gleep!” it carolled joyfully, in between slurps.

“Dammit, get off me!” I roared. Massha put a hand in Gleep's collar and hauled him back. I sat up, wiping the slime off with my sleeve. “You say you borrowed Gleep? Skeeve's not here?”

“No,” Massha admitted.

“Then who's gonna handle this fool lizard?” I asked. Gleep rolled his large blue eyes at me, wanting to get loose and greet me again.

“I've agreed to undertake the task,” said Nunzio, coming in the same door as the dragon, but at a easier pace. “We get along pretty well, don't we, boy?”

“Gleep!” Gleep agreed, trotting over to lave the Mob man with the Tongue of Doom.

“So why do you need me?” I asked Massha. Slurp. Gleep trotted back and soaked me again. I wiped the disgusting wetness off with the back of my hand. “… Me, the overgrown newt and Nunzio?” Gleep gave me a look of adoration mingled with reproach, or maybe I was reading too much into his expression. He was still a baby, for all that he was twice as big as any of us except Chumley.

“There's still a prize,” Massha said. “For the hunter who bags the princess, or, if she's better than they are, earns the highest points, the finest treasure the king has to offer. And I've got to tell you, Aahz, Brakespear has some terrifically hot stuff in the treasury. As crown princess, Glory had the keys to the playground. We used to go down there and try things on. It was enough to give a girl dreams.”

I liked the sound of the treasure, but I was too old a hand to believe in a free lunch for the guy who could stay on his horse the longest. “What's the catch?” I asked.

“Glory has been out looking over the course every day for the last three months. She's been seeing … well, shadows or shapes. She's certain someone's following her over the landscape, getting a look at where she's planning to go. She's afraid that whoever it is is out to interfere with the hunt Every once in a while they get protesters who picket the hunt, calling it brutal and outdated. Glory's dad has guards posted around, and they know the signs of an incipient demonstration. Whoever's been out there is more subtle than that. And the king has recently acquired a few terrific goodies for the treasury, a couple of them genuinely magikal. The prize is likely to be one of those. Glory wants her hunt to be fair and square. It's dangerous, you know, hot stuff. People can still get killed, even though it's for fun. If anyone's messing with it, I want it stopped.”

“All right,” I said. “You've convinced me. Your Princess Glory sounds like she's reading all the signs right”

Massha leaped up and hugged me again. “So you'll do it?”

“Ill do it,” I gasped out. Joyfully, Gleep sprang over and licked me again. “Dammit, don't do that!”

The following week found me wearing ridiculous breeches and a jacket that only needed the too-tight sleeves to tie behind my back to make it fit for lunatics. I refused outright to put on the helmetlike hat a bunch of the participants were wearing, preferring to depend upon the toughness of my Pervect skull and save my reputation as a snappy dresser from total ruin. The boots were the only things I liked: shiny black leather with just enough heel to catch the stirrups but wouldn't make me trip while back down on terra firma.

It was the day before the hunt. My borrowed mount, a hiphippohippus named Fireball, came from Gloriannamarjolie's own stables, a buckskin mount like a cross between a horse and a rhinoceros. Its big barrel-like body had one deep, diagonal ridge running from midpoint down to a leg's length beneath the withers. It had delicate legs for its build, with bunched muscles in the shoulders and haunches that would make it a good jumper. The beast's spoon-shaped ears swiveled back and forth as I climbed aboard to try it out for size. The natural saddle ridge was suprisingly comfortable. A harness buckled about his barrel in front of the rider provided reins and stirrups. The grooms on both sides shortened the stirrups considerably until my feet fit into them. Not one adult Brakespearan I saw was my height. All of them were at least a head taller, usually more. When the princess had taken us on a welcome tour of the palace guard I felt like I was walking through a forest.

Gloriannamarjolie herself was a strapping girl; not in Massha's class, of course, but tall and big boned, with a healthy, pink-cheeked outdoorsy complexion, long blond hair, and green eyes similar to the fox-wolves that hunters in other dimensions pursued. Brakespearans resembled Klahds fairly closely, except that their ears were pointed at the top instead of round, and their hands were almost pawlike with short fingers, the fifth digit a cross between a thumb and a dewclaw, and a sixth digit just like it on the opposite side of the palm. Plenty of good manipulative talent, and, by the cording in the sturdy arm attached, the strength to back it up. The carvings that decorated both wooden and stone surfaces would have been considered art anywhere.

“All set?” the princess asked. She sat towering over me on a white beast with a set of wicked little pointed horns in between its ears. It lifted its lip in a sneer at me. I bared my teeth and growled back. The 'hippus danced out of reach, and I wheeled Fireball around.

“Ready,” I said.

“Then let's move out!”

Massha and Nunzio, the latter holding an eager Gleep on a leash, stepped back. She looped the reins between the dewclaws on either side of her right hand, set her left hand on her hip, and kicked her mount in the sides. “Come on, Suzicue.” Fireball and I followed.

“Don't fall off, Hot Stuff!” Massha called. Setting my teeth, I clenched my knees around Fireball's sides. We thundered away.

The hunting course was off limits, but Glory led us out on a path in a stretch of woods that ran beside the river that fed the castle moat. A stiff wind beat the water up into mini-whitecaps. I could feel the tips of my ears starting to chill.

“A bracing breeze!” Glory shouted over the gale. “Open him up and see what he can do!”

My mount was already galloping hard, jarring my rear like a jackhammer. I dug in my heels, and was nearly bowled over the beast's tail as Fireball threw it into overdrive. If I hadn't seen dragons move I would never have believed a creature that big could move so fast. The trees around me blurred into a brown picket fence. Another white blur passed me as Glory, on Suzicue, hurtled ahead. I heard the princess's hearty laugh.

“Ha hah! Exhilarating, isn't it? Tally ho! Yoicks!”

The thundering gait turned into a speedy lollop, easier on my spine than the canter, but now we were running into the forest. Low-lying branches swept over me, threatening to scoop me off. Grimly I clenched the reins and leaned down over Fireball's neck. As I told Massha, I'm not built for the saddle. I found myself digging my toe talons into the mount's side. He didn't seem to notice, probably because of the boots. He was too busy tossing his head to clear twigs out of his eyes. I put my head down next to his neck as I tried to keep Suzicue in sight It'd take me forever to find my way back in these thick woods. If I'd had my magik, I'd have popped back to the castle and told Massha I resigned.

Over hill and down dale we galloped, pounding through the undergrowth. We were following a trail, but it was thickly overgrown. No surprise, if no one used it but Glory and her family. Birds fluttered upward, calling. Showers of leaves and seeds rained down on me. I tightened my grasp on Fireball.

A thin branch hit me in the forehead like a hot wire. I let out a bellow of pain.

Through the trees I saw mottled shapes scatter and flee: animals running from the sound of my voice. As Fireball crested the hill in Suzicue's wake I spotted another shape, one moving toward me. It stood upright on two legs, not on all fours or all sixes like the rest of Brakespear's wildlife. I squinted, trying to see details. Twigs lashed my face. I spat out leaves. Just as suddenly as I had spotted it, the mysterious shape vanished. Whatever it was had gotten close enough to get a look at us, then disappeared on the spot. That spoke of intelligence and probably advanced magik or technology. I caught up with Glory, and rode back to the castle in thoughtful silence.

“You were right to call us in,” I told her and the others, once we were closeted in her personal study and Massha's privacy bracelet had drawn a cone of silence around us. “There is someone out there, scoping out the woods.”

“I have a thousand forest rangers,” Glory argued. “It could have been one of them.” I could see she didn't believe what she was saying.

“So what do we do?” Massha asked.

I sighed down to my bruised end. “We go with Plan A, but we'd better have Plans B and C as backups. We join the hunt tomorrow.”

“Gleep!” announced the dragon. He was the only one who seemed happy about it.

“Stirrup cup, good sir?” asked a strapping Brakespearan appearing next to my mount. He presented me with a brimming silver goblet shaped like a skull.

“Heady liquor, is it?” I asked.

“Sire?”

“Never mind.” I took the cup and drained it “Tally ho and yoicks.” I tossed the empty back to him. He withdrew, bowing. I took a good look around.

The misty morning air was full of the smell of brimstone and rotting meat as the Master of Hounds, as he was still called, organized five dozen assorted dragons by size with the help of a dozen handlers. Gleep, one of the smallest, was at the front with a couple of wyverns and a half-grown wurm. Nunzio, holding up a meaty bone, made him sit up and beg. Even though Gleep had been a royal pain in the posterior since the day Skeeve, er, acquired him, he was kind of cute. At a distance.

Fireball started at something invisible, dancing under me. I tightened my knees, and my muscles reminded me that they'd had a hard time the day before.

“How are you doing, Aahz?” Massha floated over to me from the royal reviewing stand. She was dressed in brown and green, the royal colors of Brakespear, to match Gloriannamarjolie.

“I'm remembering why I don't do this for fun,” I gritted.

“Attention, all of you!” We turned to face the stand. King Henryarthurjon smiled down on us. He was a big, muscular Brakespearan with fox-red hair going white at the temples and green eyes like his daughter's. He held out his hands for silence, spreading out all four thumbs in a gesture of welcome. “We are gratified to see so many puissant hunters assembled here to participate in our daughter's Royal Hunt!” Rousing cheers interrupted him, and he smiled paternally at Glory. Glory held her hands up over her head in a gesture of victory. Her outfit was classic camouflage: A long-sleeved dress of light-absorbing brown and green mottled fabric covered her from shoulders to knees; no velcro or zippers. Tall, soft boots that would absorb the sound of stepped-on leaves or twigs were cross-gartered on her long legs, and slung across from one shoulder to the opposite hip was a sptit-leather bag that appeared to be driving the dragons into a greater frenzy than they'd usually be in. I assumed it contained the bait she would use to draw her trail. A pair of gloves were tucked into her belt. “She will give you a good run, my friends. The rules are three in number the hunt shall commence at my signal. It will continue until sunset or until a hunter captures the princess — alive, naturally. Points will be given for style, courtesy, riding, coursing, handling of one's hound, and, of course, success. The hunter who bags the princess wins the grand prize, the finest treasure in the kingdom.” He snapped his fingers, and two pages in army-surplus tabards staggered up onto the dais carrying a solid gold box. “This is a most remarkable treasure chest, my friends and guests. Once an item has been entrusted to its depths, it will always be safe, even when it is taken out again. If a treasure is stolen, one can always retrieve it by reaching into the chest. As far as I know this coffer is unique throughout the dimensions. I think you will agree it is a worthy prize, what ho?”

The assembled hunters let out a collective “Oooooh.” I raised an eyebrow. I was impressed. That was definitely a goodie worth having.

The king raised a finger. “However, if she manages to elude all of you, the prize will go to my daughter. A consolation award goes to the hunter who has garnered the most points. These are our five judges, and their decision is final.”

The king gestured behind him with an arm toward the others on the stand. Massha was among the five. We'd agreed that the best way for her to keep an eye on things was a bird's-eye view, floating above with the help of her flying ring. As an official judge she could call for help from the others or from the army of forest rangers who'd be accompanying the hunt.

I looked around me at the other riders, trying to spot which one might have been the shadowy figure in the woods. Massha and I had scanned the area looking for footprints or any other identifying spoor and come up empty. Like me, the hunters were already in the saddle-ridge, so it was hard to guess which could be the right height. In riding hats, helmets, little red riding hoods, and crowns, none of the heads matched the silhouette I had half-seen. I couldn't exactly go up to the Samiram of Porzimm and tell him to take off his turban. This snake-skinned nobleman had an entourage bigger than Elvis's. Next to him, on a dancing charger the size of a rhinoceros, was a good-looking Whelf seven feet tall named Prince Bosheer. The magnificent pointed ears sticking out of his mop of wavy black hair weren't as handsome as my own, since they were tan like the rest of his skin. Something about Bosheer made me look at him twice, but I couldn't put my finger on what made me uneasy. I was definitely concerned about The Niraba, a dark-furred female with a whip-thin body whose personal attributes far outweighed the rest of her. She looked us all up and down with a speculatively sensual expression on her face. Reminded me of a former girlfriend of mine. I always made sure I was heavily armed when we went anywhere, because fights tended to break out about whom she was going home with. I recognized a Deveel called Alf — short, I now learned, for Alfibiades (you can't sue your parents for that kind of abuse; it's a way they get even with you in advance for the time you wreck the family chariot). He looked uneasy on his 'hippus, a beast even smaller than mine. His eyes absolutely glittered when he saw the treasure chest. Right there I knew I had my number-one suspect. Deveels were just exactly the type to tilt the playing field in their direction by scoping out the field in advance. I wished I could analyze some of the mud on his hooves.

Nunzio showed up at my side. He put a small studded wand into my hand. “It's a controller. Gleep has never needed one to behave, but it's a way for you to keep in touch with him over distance. If you push this button,” he indicated a baby-blue stud, “hell stop. The red one will make him sit down, and the green one will make him run back to you wherever you are. That will help if you get lost.”

“I don't get lost,” I growled, mentally crossing my fingers that I wouldn't have to eat those words.

Nunzio nodded. He knew me. “Right The other thing you're gonna need is this.” He gave me a red, football-shaped mass the size of my hand. “In case one of the dragons gets out of hand. Toss it into its mouth or into its flame. The smoke will paralyze it Good luck.”

I tucked away my aces in the hole and clenched my reins. Mass assassination by dragon was by no means out of the question as a way to win this contest. If none of the hunters was out to cut the others' throats, we all ought to be perfectly safe, but better to consider the worst possible scenario in advance than later while they're trying to identify your remains to return to your family.

The Master of the Hunt blew a fanfare on his horn. “My lords and ladies, the hunt will now commence! Forth the quarry!”

Gloriannamarjolie grinned at the assembly, then leaped off the dais. Before our eyes, she seemed to vanish. I heard rustling in the undergrowth.

The Master of the Hunt held up a wrist sundial and waited until the shadow shifted slightly. He raised a finger, giving her a long count of a hundred, then brought it down. “Forth the hounds!”

The dragonmaster blew a sour blatt on a duck whistle. In unison, the sixty dragons raised their noses to the sky and howled, some of them belching gouts of flame into the air. The sight was enough to send half the non-hunters scurrying for the safety of the castle. I stood my ground.

I wasn't too worried about my own safety: I had the D-hopper, Nunzio's gadgets, and a few little tricks of my own, but I kept thinking about the princess's well-being. She had a tough job ahead, staying far enough ahead of an army of killer dragons to finish the course. “Forth the hunters!”

Hearing the cry, Fireball leaped forward. Cursing, I held on with both hands and both legs to keep from being bucked off as the rotund beast thundered after the pack of bigger 'hippuses.

In the sparse forest outside the courtyard the riders spread out behind the dragons. The firebreathers were sniffing the ground for the princess's scent. I'd never seen control like it Normally, adult dragons would be straining against the controllers, fighting to get loose to kill and loot. These behaved like a troop of experienced blood-hounds. Then I gave myself a mental slap on the fore-head: they were experienced bloodhounds. These dragons and their owners rode on hunts all year round. Only those in the hands of strangers like Alf who were here only for the prize had to hang on tight and keep their dragons on the job. Gleep, swift-footed and smaller than the others, kept dashing underneath the feet of the big ones, smelling a patch of ground here, nibbling a leaf there. I swear at one point he looked up and gave me a wink.

Naw. Couldn't be. Must have been dust in his eye.

I didn't have much of a chance to concentrate on the dragons. Just staying on my mount took all my attention. The trees that weren't hammered down by the stampede of dragons whipped at us with blade-sharp twigs. I spat out leaves and hunkered grimly over Fireball's neck. Not a hundred yards out of the courtyard I saw riders dropping out of sight and heard their yells — the first fence and ditch had claimed its victims. I calculated from my approach vector my 'hippus was going to have to gather himself and leap up six feet and forward twenty. As if he could read my thoughts, he danced sideways and cast an eye over the fence into the pit, where a dozen of his fellows and their riders were crawling out of the mud. “Come on, Fireball.”

It peered back at me, and distinctly shook its head. That tore it for me. I grabbed a handful of its mane, shoved its face into the fence rail.

“Come on, you mangy barrel of shark bait!” I shouted, giving it my full lung power. “Jump that fence or I'll throw you over!” My voice echoed in the forest, momentarily drowning out the dragons. Fireball's head swayed, as though its ears were ringing. With an expression of new-respect, it backed up slowly, then broke into a steadily increasing gallop. I braced myself, and we sailed over the rails and the ditch, landing a dozen feet clear. My spine jarred heavily. I saw a couple of my fellow hunters grin at me, as they stood up in their stirrups to absorb the impact with their knees. Jerks.

Fireball didn't miss a step, going straight from that balletic leap into a full canter.

The landscape cleared almost at once from thick forest to open scrubland. Miles ahead of me the dragons had already fanned out with their noses to the ground. In the midst of the red, green, gold, or black giants was a little blue form, scooting back and forth like a mouse under elephants' feet. An ouroboros, its tail still tucked in its mouth, lay on the ground twitching, probably trampled by one of its big cousins as it tried to roll among them. Pages from the palace ran out with a stretcher and a medical kit I felt a momentary qualm. If Gleep got squished Skeeve'd be upset. I'd better look out for the little guy.

In the meantime I had to keep an eye on the rest of the hunters. The head count before we'd ridden out was twenty. I could still see the other nineteen. Unless one of them had left behind an illusionary twin, that was. I peered at each one, trying to see if any had fuzzy edges or were repeating the same actions over and over. Nothing so far.

I'd have hated to see this landscape during spring floods; it would be so soggy you could grow cranberries. As it was, the going was messy. Fireball's big hooves caked with mud that went suck-popl whenever he picked up a foot. Prince Bosheer halted to take a look around, and his 'hippus sank up to its belly, and we all learned an important lesson about this field: if you stopped you got mired. I kept my heels ready to kick if Fireball looked like he was slowing down.

“Bad luck,” I called, as I suck-popped past him.

“No problem,” he said, cheerfully, freeing a field shovel from his saddle pack. He climbed off and started digging. Quite a guy. I had to have respect for somebody who could be philosophical about a situation that could put him out of the running so early in the contest.

The dragons collided as they charged toward a gap that led out of the meadow into the hills. Two of the fire-breathers who wanted to go through at the same time started to fight One of them hauled back his head and let out a jet of flame that incinerated a stand of trees. On the way it hit the other dragon square in the face, and annoyed him. It tore up cart-size clawfuls of earth and heaved it at its opponent, following up with a huge blast of lightning from its own throat. The first one let out a roar that shook the ground. The Master of the Hounds charged directly at the two dragons and started shouting commands. The rest of the dragons and hunters milled around in the muck waiting until the owners came forward with control wands to pull the combatants apart. That traffic jam wasn't going to clear for a while. I looked around. There were several other gaps to try. I could take one and hope that the paths met up again after a while. It would be easier than waiting here.

The judges seemed to have the same idea. I saw five shapes go overhead. One of them was Massha's familiar roundness. She gave me a thumb's-up as she veered to the right I turned to the left and lost sight of her.

Beyond the lip of the valley hills closed in on the path until I was threading a round-topped maze. Hoofprints told me at least one of the others had come this way, too. It had been a brilliant idea, but I didn't flatter myself that it was unique. I kicked Fireball into a trot. We rode along the bed of a foot-wide stream, kicking pebbles. I didn't care if Glory heard me; I wasn't in the running for the prize, nice as it would be to have. I was there to see that there wasn't any funny stuff. So far I had not lost track of any of the hunters. I took a small device that Massha had given me out of my belt pouch (you can't get into pants pockets in the saddle) and flipped it open.

The flat screen was as neat as any tracker you could buy in a hunting and fishing shop on Perv: the tiny blips superimposed over a map of the landscape indicated the contestants, the dragons, the observers and the palace staff. We'd purposely unblipped Glory so that if the device fell into someone else's hands they couldn't use it to find her. I traced the trails. Yes, sooner or later they all met up ahead. I'd just go and wait up there for the confusion to clear up. Nothing was in my way. Except one blip, almost directly ahead of me. I looked up.

“You! What are you doing out here?”

“Hello, Aahz.”

“Massha, look to your left! Fine that rider five points. He's cheating!” Carisweather ordered. The big fluffy guy pointed. I looked down. The fancy-pants dude in the turban had slipped a gizmo out and was twisting a dial on the face of it. You couldn't call me big know-all when it came to hunting contests, but if I'm an expert in anything, it's magikal gadgets. I knew a variable-output controller when I saw it The silky snake was breaking in on the spells being used by hunters trying to control their dragons and, by the smirk on his scaly face, he was enjoying the resultant chaos. With a flick of my flight ring I dropped down next to him and picked it out of his hand.

“Naughty, naughty,” I said, waggling my finger at him. In fury, his forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. “Promises, promises,” I sighed, and flew up to join my fellow judges. Three of the four had big grins on their faces, but Carisweather shook his head.

“We're only observers, Mistress Massha,” he said, disapprovingly.

“You can say that if you want, big chief,” I told him, “but one of those dragons could kill somebody.”

“That, alas, is one of the pitfalls of the contest,” Carisweather said, mournfully. “These are blood sports, and, once in a while, blood runs.”

“That should be when it's unavoidable, Hot Pants,” I said, in a huff. I can't stand it when people give me that “accidents of war” garbage. “This is avoidable. Short of searching everybody, we can't find these tricks until they try to use one, but that doesn't mean they get to keep it once we see it” I tossed the disk in the air and caught it again. “He can have it back at the end of the race.”

Carisweather sighed. I looked around again for Glory. She had shot away on foot from the starting position so fast I hadn't seen which way she went. Once we hit the skies I saw her prints on the soft ground. She had always been a good runner when she was a little thing, able to outdistance elk-deer and wrestle them down with her bare hands. She told me she'd been training hard for more than a year to make this the best contest Brakespear had ever seen. I wanted it all to work out for her.

With only suspicions on her part and Aahz's spotting of that mystery figure in the woods it was tough to figure out who to keep a eye on. None of them had a good-conduct prize coming that I could see. Besides Snake-dude trying to mess up the dragons, we'd already spotted the scrawny-butt black-furred nymph scattering slow weed for the other 'hippuses to eat, making sure they'd all be too groggy to run after Glory in the backstretch I knew was up ahead, and both Deveels had tried to make alliances with other riders to let them win.

The noon sun beat down on my back like a hot towel. I wanted to show the colors for Glory, but I'd have been happier in my usual lightweight clothes. A girl my size doesn't need the extra insulation; we generate a fair bit of heat on our own. How she kept moving the way she was amazed me.

If I levitated high above the forest I could see her in the distance, sure-footed as a unicorn. Not the only thing she had in common with that fabled beast, if you get my drift Once in a while when she crested a ridge the others could see her. too. That Prince Bosheer practically bounded out of his saddle-ridge every time he spotted her. That boy had it bad for her. He must have been bitten by the love-bug the second he set eyes on her. I wondered if Glory knew it.

Silly me. She must have known it even before he did. I knew when Hugh fell for me; Crom knows! waited long enough for Mr. Right that I was certain I recognized that look on a man's face when it finally happened. I was seeing it in front of me at this very moment. I started rooting for him to win.

It wasn't going to be easy. The Cosus of Elova had easily the fastest steed, bought directly out of Glory's dad's stables not two weeks ago. The big white 'hippus knew the terrain and didn't have to be magikally adapted to the local atmosphere and gravity as some of the others did. He was in the lead, spurring Sugarpie every time Glory's blond head became visible amid the sparse trees. The others fought for distance, galloping heavily behind him.

The occasional peeks were for the benefit of the riders, she'd told me The dragons were following her own scent plus the spoor she laid down from the brimstone pellets in her belt pouch. One of the big reds suddenly got frustrated with having to thread its way through the trees and let out a blast of fire. With an expression on his big chops I can only call smug, he slithered forward on his belly over the smouldering ashes. The rest of the dragons followed his lead, and the king had a head start on this year's controlled burn. I had a coughing fit as the wind carried clouds of hot cinders up into the sky, so I missed Belizara, a Weeka from Sowen, zoom down on her broom to break up a disagreement between a pair of contestants as to who got precedence to cross a bridge.

Riding alongside but not with the group was the king. He rode a handsome black stallion. Behind him, a litter slung between two beasts carried the prize. No one accompanied him; I mean, who was going to bother the king? Nobody would, especially not a king as well prepared for an attack: Hank was in full armor, carrying a sword, sixteen spears including the famous Broken Spear, a dagger in his belt and each boot, bandoliers of throwing stars, a shield, a mace, and a morning star. So far, everything was running well. With Aahz keeping an eye on the action down below, and me up here, nothing should go wrong.

“You!” I demanded, as Nunzio slunk out of the shadows. “What are you doing here? You ought to be back there keeping an eye on Gleep.”

“He doesn't need me, Aahz,” the Mob enforcer said. “I had to talk to you in private.”

I eyed him. “What's going on that you couldn't ask me back there? Who don't you want to hear you?”

“Massha,” Nunzio sighed, sitting down on a stone and fanning himself with his broad-brimmed hat. “She's queering the whole deal.”

“What deal?” I glanced over his head. No sign of the dragon pack yet, but they couldn't be too far behind me. “Talk fast.”

“The safe, the first prize, isn't supposed to be in circulation. It was going to be stopped, but there's been a mix-up.”

“What kind of mix-up?” I asked. “Who doesn't want it out there?”

“The Council of Wizards.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, thinking hard. The COW was a transdimensional advisory board that had a representative for every gateway to a dimension that used magik. They did a pretty good job of helping keeping items out of a place that wasn't ready for 'em, but there were occasional slip-ups.

“Yes. The safe was a prototype, designed to protect irreplaceable artifacts, but once the scientists let the critics get a look at it, they figured out it was just too easily used for ill-gotten gains,” Nunzio said. “Think of what would happen if you put loot from a… business transaction into it Law enforcement could retrieve the merchandise, but all a perpetrator would have to do to get it back again was to reach into the safe …”

“I get it,” I said. I let out a long whistle. “Pretty smooth. Another case of technology running too far ahead of the law. So of course they've got to get it out of circulation again. You'd think something like this would have a major APB out. I never heard anything about it.”

“You might not have, perhaps because you've been a little out of the loop lately.” Nunzio looked abashed, thinking he'd hurt my feelings. I felt a twinge, but he was right I had had a lot of other things on my mind.

“So the transaction's going to take place where no one can see it Who's out there?”

“Someone from COW,” said Nunzio. I shrugged again. Who was I to disagree with COW? “They're going to stick up the king.”

“What?!!?” My voice echoed down the narrow valley. “Let it happen,” Nunzio said, quietly. “He's the one who called COW in the first place and told them he had it He's an honest man. A crook would never have let it go.”

I peered closely at Nunzio. “So he never intended to give it away at this race?”

“The race is good cover,” the enforcer said. “So's a robbery. Otherwise there might have been too many questions asked, the king just giving up a choice piece of merchandise like that. It's a shame that Princess Glory caught some mention of it She called Massha, Massha called you, and here we are, where none of us ought to have been in the first place.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, as all the pieces fell into place. “So that'd explain the figure in the woods.” Another truth dawned on me. “So I'm getting saddle sores for nothing!” I bellowed. Fireball danced under me, responding to my outburst. Nunzio looked really embarrassed. “All right All right! Ill look the other way. Crom save me from future eavesdropping princesses.”

Nunzio nodded once. He was a man of relatively few words; once he knew he'd convinced me he didn't waste any more of them. He slid into a crevice, vanishing among the shadows. Pretty good disappearing act for someone with no magik. I gave Fireball a kick to get him started again. He didn't need it Just as Nunzio disappeared, the knot of dragons caught up with me. Fireball whinnied and took off, me clinging to his neck. We bounded down the canyon with the yelps of thirty couples of drakes, wyverns, wurms, firebreathers, and Gleep behind us.

While Fireball ran I had time to think. I needed to figure out a way to distract Massha and the other judges at the time of the stickup. I glanced up as the airborne quintet zoomed overhead. I owed it to her to tell her the truth, but there wasn't any time. The day was rushing by.

I had to get out of the way of the dragons. With the help of the tracker I located the next handy pocket canyon, and yanked Fireball aside as we reached it. The horde thundered past me with the hunters in their wake. Now that I knew none of the others were involved I could stop babysitting them. As he rode by. Prince Bosheer tipped me a merry wave and a salute. I grimaced back. Whelves wrote the book on cheerfulness. I could only take them in small doses.

Now, to locate the king.

I quivered with joy as we flew along above the hunters. We were in the ride to the finish. Over the top of the trees the castle came back into sight. Glory was going to make it!

Down below I saw Aahz rejoin the pack. He gestured furiously at the Samiram, and made a throat-cutting gesture with his finger. That must be our man. I thought he was too scaly to live. I was going to keep an eye on him. Mr. Wrong was never going to have a chance to blow the contest. I tipped a thumbs-up to Aahz, but he was already zipping back into the woods.

Glory was on her way. She was in the zone now, running hard, her cheeks bright pink. She stumbled, and the dragons let out a howl of delight as they gained a few steps on their prey. With the castle so close she couldn't afford to make any detours, or the hunters would cut her off. She was still on top of her game, with lots of energy left. I was so proud of her.

Little Gleep turned out to be amazingly fast for his size. He zoomed out ahead of the pack until he was running side by side with Glory. She reached out and patted him on the head, earning a wide-eyed look of adoration. That dragon was just a love sponge. The big green dragon in the lead, shoving out into the open field, took a few steps and launched himself into the air, gaining on Glory. He set down within a few paces of her. Gleep wheeled on his little blue tail and hissed. The big dragon was so surprised it sat back on its tail, causing a huge pileup as the other dragons caught up with it.

I grinned. The little guy was amazing. Skeeve ought to be proud of him. Later I planned to tell him all about Gleep's adventures, with some judicious editing. It bothered him to hear too much about Aahz.

He still felt guilty for Hot Stuff being without his magik, as if it was his fault that the moronic Imp assassins hit Skeeve's old master before he restored Aahz's powers. Skeeve also blamed himself for not catching and understanding all the words of the antimagik spell; the counterspell had to be exact, or it would make matters worse. Aahz would never get his powers back, and he might have some other problem. Skeeve wanted to make sure that would never happen.

Glory was in the straightaway now, with the drawbridge directly ahead of her. Out in the open for good, she wove from side to side. Now and then she threw a handful of brimstone out wide. The dragons on her tail couldn't resist the noxious little pellets, diving for them and crunching them up with gusto. They got in each others' way, squabbled over the titbits, and, suddenly, fell into pits that Glory had dug days before to delay them. She wasn't going to get caught, not if she could help it.

The 'hippuses started falling over dragon tails and flipping into the pits, too. From twenty, only fourteen hunters still remained in the chase. Ooops, ouch. I winced. Make that eleven, as three of them stumbled into a net that dropped out of the trees. Glory had leaped over the tripwire as she passed, but the 'hippuses had gone right through it, setting off the trap.

A shower of love-doe powder claimed four more, as the hunters suddenly had to fend off the advances of a herd of amorous deer-elk stags who bounded out of the woods, looking for the wonderful females they smelled. The number dropped again, as two riders were suddenly thrown out of their saddle ridges and onto the ground ahead of their 'hippuses. Their mounts, unable to move, bellowed for help. The remaining five leaped over the sward of stickum turf and pounded forward after the remaining dragons. The furry, skinny-butt female shrieked as she and another rider were lifted straight out of their saddles by huge birds of prey. They would be able to fight their way free, but they were effectively out of the contest for the time being. Glory had left all these surprises for last. That's my girl, I thought with pride.

Behind Gloriannamarjolie, only three hunters remained: the Samiram, the Deveel called Alf, and Prince Bosheer. They were all looking desperate, grim, and tired. I crossed my fingers. Glory didn't have far to run. She was going to win.

The woods thickened ahead of me. Fireball protested as I led him off the main path, making him pick his way through the undergrowth. I didn't want to interrupt the exchange, but I wanted to make sure no one else interrupted it, either. The king and his litter clanked along. Navigating behind him by sound, I paid attention to the rhythmic jingling, creaking, clattering, and clop-clop-clopping. Suddenly, the noise came to a halt.

“Have you got the chest?” a female voice demanded. The representative from COW was a woman. They occupied about half the council seats. The current president was a Gnome named Helvita.

“Of course!” the king's deep voice rolled out. I pulled Fireball to a silent halt. I slid out of the saddle and tiptoed forward, trying to see the exchange. Henryarthurjon and his challenger were in a stand of woods too deep to let in much light Perfect place for a little daylight robbery, I thought. I saw the silhouette nod.

“Hand it over, then. Hurry up! We haven't got much time.”

“Patience, patience, good dame,” the king said. More clinking and clunking as he untied the bindings holding the chest in place on its litter. “My goodness, you're a strong little thing, aren't you? Oh, I say! Take it easy, wench!”

“Shut up,” the figure hissed. “We have to make this look good. Hold still!”

“Ah, I see. Mmm. Mmmph!”

All was going according to the plan. I gave the COW representative a few minutes to finish her work and leave with the chest. A short implosion of air told me she'd used a D-hopper to depart. I shoved through the trees. King Henryarthurjon stood tied up like a bundle of sticks inside a circle of his own spears stuck point down in the ground, his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth. I loosened the gag.

“Yell,” I said. “I'll get help.”

“Aid! Aid to the king!” bellowed Henryarthurjon. “What ho! Aid to the king!”

“Aid for the king!” I shouted. I ran to Fireball and spurred him down the hill and into the midst of the hunt “Help the king! He's up there! He needs help!”

“The king? What happened to the king!” Everyone not directly in the running went to the rescue, including most of the disappointed hunters. I was feeling kind of smug, being in on the facts. I tipped the king a wink as we untied him and helped him back onto his stallion.

“That was a little bit of a too-convincing robbery, what ho?” he told me in an undertone. “You could have reminded your compatriot it was all a sham, eh?”

“My compatriot?” I asked. I admit my expression went blank.

“Yes, a scaly wench, a little taller than you, but otherwise could have been your sister. Do you have a sister?”

“Not in this neck of the woods,” I said. I kept my face impassive, but my heart sank.

A Pervect. The image in my mind slid over one notch and clicked down. That's where I had seen a silhouette like it in my own mirror every morning. I gritted my teeth. If the COW rep from Perv was here, the least she could have done was to tip me the wink.

“Nothing to do with me, majesty,” I assured him sincerely, though inwardly I was smarting with humiliation. I was still in disgrace at home for having lost my magik — not because it had happened, but because it had been in such a stupid accident. The Pervect representative probably didn't want anything to do with me. “I'm here with Massha.”

“Eh?” the king asked, puzzled. “Oh. Her governess. Ah. 'Course y'are. Welcome, too. Welcome. Ah, well, let's go back to the castle. Glory ought to be getting there pretty soon. C'mon, we're all of ten minutes' ride away.”

A few steps away we heard, “Mmrrph! Mllph! Lllp!”

“I say,” the king exclaimed. “Do you hear something?”

But with my more acute hearing I was way ahead of him. The sounds were coming from a copse of nut bushes not far away. I swung off Fireball and pushed into the undergrowth toward the sound. I noticed that the twigs were broken off during some kind of struggle.

Behind a tree I found a mousy little Djinn in blue robes with his wire-rimmed glasses hanging from one pointed blue ear. He was bound and gagged with snare-ropes, magikal bindings that never let go unless you knew the release word. Fortunately, they're commercially available in nearly every dimension, and few people ever bother to reset the factory passwords.

“Undo,” I commanded. The ropes collapsed from him like overcooked pasta.

“You!” the Djinn said, leveling a finger at me. I noticed it was shaking. It took guts for a little Djinn like that to threaten a Pervect. We had a reputation throughout the dimensions, and it was well-earned. “How dare you restrain a representative of the most august Council of Wizards … wait a moment, you're not the one who tied me up!”

“No. It was a female, right?” I asked, helping him out of the bushes.

He adjusted his spectacles and peered up at me, wonderingly. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Ask the king,” I said, hoisting him up into the now-empty litter. “His royal majesty, King Henryarthurjon of Brakespear.”

“Temolo, of the Council of Wizards,” the Djinn said, extending a hand, which was swallowed up by the king's huge paw. He straightened his spectacles. “Dear me, there seems to have been a terrible mistake.”

The three remaining riders were in a line directly behind Glory. We five judges flew directly over them, making sure that no funny stuff would happen in the last few minutes of the race. For the first time, I saw Glory slow down slightly. In spite of her excellent condition, she was getting tired. She'd been running all day, a hard feat even for a Brakespearan.

The hunters were alone. The last three big dragons had been clotheslined by an almost invisible wire stretched from the top of one huge, ancient oak on one side of the castle to another. The trees bowed slightly as three adult dragons rammed into the wire, then sprang up taut. The dragons were flung backward, and lay in a heap wondering what had happened to them. Gleep sat down on the ground in front of him to chew mud out of his nails. Nunzio emerged from the crowd of trainers and courtiers to help groom him. His work was done.

But mine wasn't yet. Glory hadn't reached the drawbridge. She was panting with exhaustion. The 'hippuses drew closer, and closer, and closer. The Samiram reached out one long, scaly hand, almost grabbing hold of the running girl's long tail of blond hair.

Suddenly, I lost my grip on the Samiram's dragon-control device that I was holding. It fell out of my hands and landed on his head. He bellowed a curse. The 'hippus between his knees, sensing a change, slowed a little. The Samiram looked up at me, his tongue flicking furiously.

“Oops.” I said, holding my hands up to my shoulders. “Sorry.”

Glory and the other two were by now far ahead. A hundred yards. Eighty. Sixty. The castle courtiers were lined up on the battlements yelling encouragement to their princess. Forty. Twenty. She was going to make it. I was afraid to breathe.

Suddenly, Alf, the Deveel, threw a handful of powder into Bosheer's face.

“Ten points off!” Carisweather boomed. And, mysteriously (my fingers were crossed), the cloud of dust rolled back into Alf s face, never touching the Prince. Alf went into a coughing and sneezing fit, and fell off his 'hippus.

Ten yards to go. Five. Two. One. Glory's foot was almost on the planks of the drawbridge, when Bosheer's strong arm scooped her up and deposited her onto the withers of his steed.

“Got you, ray lady!” he yelled.

The cheers of the courtiers faded away. Glory looked upset for a moment. Then she looked up into the face of her captor, and grinned.

“Congratulations, my lord.” she breathed. The two of them exchanged glances that left the princess's cheeks even more pink than before. Bosheer's face turned red, and he smiled. Zing! I thought. The cheers redoubled.

We judges wheeled around the couple on the drawbridge, compared notes, then Carisweather floated a dozen yards up into the air to make an announcement.

“My lords and ladies! I have the honor to announce the winner of today's hunt Prince Bosheer! And here comes his majesty to award him his most desirable prize!”

Over the last rise came the king, followed by Aahz, followed by the 'hippuses carrying the litter with the chest on it. I blinked. The chest was not on it. Instead, it contained a bemused-looking Djinn, and nothing else. Aahz's face was grim. His eyes met mine. The chest had been stolen. In spite of all our precautions, we'd failed.

The king rode over, and though she didn't look in any hurry to get down, helped his daughter dismount from Bosheer's saddle. The king shook hands with the prince, then held up his hands for silence.

“We wish to give thanks to our servants and friends, and especially to our new friend Aahz, who came to our assistance a few moments ago,” he said, indicating me with a hand. “I'm sorry to say that the prize we'd originally intended to grant this most gracious winner has been foully robbed from our person.” Bosheer looked crestfallen. Henryarthurjon slapped him on the back. “We apologize most heartily to Prince Bosheer. It would seem that crime may touch even the highest in the land. But this brave and puissant man will not go without a reward. Instead, I shall give him from among my many treasures …”

Gloriannamarjolie pushed forward, her hand hooked through Bosheer's arm. “… his daughter's hand in marriage!”

“What?” asked her father, then noticed the solid grip Glory had on the Whelf. “Oh. Jolly good. Yes. My daughter's hand in marriage.”

The crowd cheered. Glory and Bosheer looked radiantly happy.

Massha settled down near me where I stood at the edge of the crowd with my arms crossed. “Well, all's well that ends well, I guess. I saw sparks shooting between those two even before the race started. I knew he was Mr. Right”

“He's satisfied,” I said, nodding at the prince. “He got something he liked better than a safe.”

“But what happened to the safe?” she asked. “You were following the king. How'd someone manage to rob him with you so close?” I scowled No one likes to fail, even if it was in a good cause. Her face softened. She felt sorry for me.

“I didn't see a thing,” I said, impassively. “It had to have happened when he went into that thick clump of woods on the other side of the hill.”

“Well, did you notice any footprints? Can you tell which way the thieves went?” she demanded.

“Massha,” I said, with infinite patience. “I came here to do you a favor. I blew it I apologize. You deserve better, but I'm done. No one is paying me to track down a missing treasure chest.”

“Sorry, Big Guy,” Massha said. “I'm actually happier the way things came out.”

“Me, too,” I agreed. Nunzio and Gleep came up to join us. He and I exchanged comradely nods. Gleep leaped up, aiming for my face with his tongue. I pushed him away. “Let's go in. I bet they're pouring a toast to the happy couple. I could use a drink.”

“So could I, Hot Stuff,” Massha said, tucking her hand into my arm. “So could I.”