Realms of Magic

EPILOGUE

Justin interrupted the loquacious author. "All of those stories are in here?" he queried pointing to the manuscript.

"But of course," Volo replied, grateful for the occasion of taking a breath, "and more."

"All have been authenticated?"

"I had each source sign the manuscript pages based on his or her information."

The publisher examined a page for corroboration, then placed it back on the stack, satisfied. "Drow princesses, Khelben, Elminster, curses, spells, dimension hopping, dragons, smoke powder."

"And more," Volo assured.

"All the elements of a best-seller," Justin offered.

"You really think so?" Volo queried, batting his eyes in mock naivete.

"Of course," the publisher replied. "We have a deal at our usual terms."

Volo held up a single finger to indicate a pause. "I was sort of hoping for a slightly higher advance… expenses and all," the gazetteer replied hesitantly.

"How about a ten percent increase?"

"How about twenty?" Volo pressed. — "'.*

"Done!" Justin replied, extending his hand to his best-selling author.

"Done!" Volo replied, his hand hooking up with his publisher's midway across the desk. As the two drew back to their respective sides of the desk, he added, "I was really counting on being able to collect my advance funds immediately… expenses and all."

"No problem," Justin replied, coming around from his side of the desk. "I hope right after lunch will be all right. I have another pressing engagement, but my secretary should be back by then."

"Fine," Volo replied, purposely not trying to sound churlish as he realized he was being gypped out of lunch. "Say, in about an hour?"

"Make it two," the publisher replied, escorting the star author to the door, and to the staircase leading downward. "I need to clear up a few things before my next appointment, so I hope you don't mind showing yourself out."

"No problem," the author replied, adding, "I'll be back in about two hours."

"No problem at all," the voice of the publisher replied as he slipped back into the shadows of his office.

Justin Tym arrived at his office at the usual time that morning, right before his scheduled lunch appointment with his star author, Volothamp Geddarm. He was just in time to be greeted by a well-dressed workman who was tending to a fire in the hearth by the desk.

The flames roared as they blackened and consumed the last sheaf of pages.

"Here! Here!" the publisher said. "What are you doing hi my office?"

"Sorry, good sir," the nondescript fellow replied. "I was just warming myself at your hearth while waiting for you to return."

"Well, I'm here now," the publisher replied. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a message from a Mister Volo," the fellow said. "He sends his regrets that he will not be able to see you this trip. Pressing business or something, I think he mentioned."

How odd, Justin thought. It's not like Volo to pass up a free lunch.

"Oh, well," the publisher replied. "He's not the first author afraid to see his publisher about a late manuscript. I was really hoping he would be turning in the Guide to the Moonsea he once mentioned. I may as well just go on home. He was my only appointment for the day."

"No reason to waste a day like this cooped up in an office," the fellow replied, beginning to wash the windows.

"My sentiments exactly," Justin replied. "My secretary should be in shortly. Would you mind telling her I've decided to work at home today?"

"No problem," the nondescript cleaner replied.

The window washer returned to his true form when he had observed Justin turning the corner along the street below.

Hlaavin the doppleganger poked through the fire, making sure nary a manuscript page had escaped.

Hearing the publisher's secretary ascending the stairs, Hlaavin again assumed the form of Justin Tym and met her at the head of the stairs.

Feigning anger and indignation, "the publisher" instructed the secretary, "Tell that Volo he is no longer welcome on the premises of this publishing house. Imagine his nerve-standing me up for lunch."

"Yes, Mr.Tym," she replied.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off," the doppleganger added, quickly venturing downward to the street below.

Hlaavin heard a brisk, "Yes, Mr. Tym," on his way out, giving it only half an ear as he revelled in the sweetness of his revenge on that meddling author. He even thought this plot might tide him over until Volothamp Geddarm received his inevitable just desserts.