Class Dis-Mythed

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

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

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

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

Chapter Five

"This is getting out of control."

NOAH

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

"Markie!" I exclaimed.

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

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

"Please hear me out."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why me?" I asked.

The corner of Markie's mouth quirked up in a tiny grin. "It's your own fault, really. You taught me about good character and honest evaluation. While I was here I saw how your reputation came to be based on those traits. My big fool of a nephew doesn't know how to do anything small. He has no

control. As you could probably figure, that makes him even more unpopular than an Elemental School graduate usually is. Melvine has been through about eight tutors, and he's intimidated most of them into approving of everything he does just to keep from having to deal with the aftermath. He's too bright and too powerful for his own good. I know he's screwing up." My other apprentices gawked to hear such words falling from the childish lips. "You kept one of the tightest ships running I have ever seen. Your friends were loyal to you no matter what happened. I admired your integrity. You told people the truth even when it hurt you, but you never tried to hurt anyone's feelings deliberately. My problem comes from my profession: sometimes I don't know when to stop. Melvine needs someone with your fundamental honesty, not to praise him or to clobber him too much. He only needs a steady hand for a few weeks. He ought to get a handle by then."

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