Myth Alliances

Oom-pah-pah music assaulted my ears as we walked into the tavern. I'd been by myself so long on Klahd that I forgot it was Weisenheimerfest on Deva. Deveels in leder-hosen, with perky little green hats tilted on their heads be- tween their sharp little horns and kegs on their shoulders, made their way between the broad wooden tables. Decorated pottery or metal mugs hung from pegs all the way around the wooden gallery. Below, people from all kinds of dimensions sat on the benches, some holding up their tankards for a refill, many taking a snooze under said benches after their long-awaited annual overindulging (Weisenheimerfest only came once a year). Others swayed from side to side in time to the music played by a trio of musicians who sat on stools at one end of a dance floor. No one was dancing in the heat of the noonday sun, but there was some serious drinking going on.

Aahz was there, alone at the end of one table, tossing down foaming draughts from a mug as big as a bucket. I had never been so glad to see him in my life. He almost looked beautiful to me, but nobody could call big, green, batlike ears or teeth as long as your fingers beautiful. Though he stood a little shorter than I, he had the air of power and ease that any Pervect commanded. (Some, less knowledgable dimensional travelers called the denizens Perverts, but that was all a matter of deliberately bad PR those who lived in Perv spread about their homeland.) I recognized his clothes as one of the outfits he called his "casual Friday" wear, though why a day of the week should make a difference in how one dressed I'd never worked out. A pale-green shirt open at the collar blended nicely with a pair of trousers the color of a sweet I had come to like called "butterscotch." His scaly, green, clawed feet bore no adornment and needed none. He'd tried to educate me about dress sense, but it was really Bunny who had taught me how not to look so much like a...Klahd.

He looked startled as he glanced our way. It had been a while since the last time, and I was the one who was responsible for our parting. But I thought that our mission was of sufficient importance to interrupt my self-imposed exile, and I knew Aahz would feel the same urgency. "You want me to do what?" Aahz gasped, spitting a mouthful of beer clear across the open dance floor. The tuba player gave him a chiding glance and turned his instrument over to empty it. "Ten female Pervects? A dimension full of Wuhses? The Deveels cheated them out of their last dime, and the Pervects got it back for them? And now they want us to throw the Pervects out? Mmm, mmm."

He slammed his mug down. I recoiled slightly at the violence of the gesture. His lips twisted. His shoulders started to heave.

"Mmm mmm mmm. Ha ha ha ha. HAWHAWHAW-HAWHAW! HAWHAWHAWHAWHAW!"

He laughed until the building rang with the sound of his voice. The other patrons watched him nervously as he slapped me on the back, stood up, slipped to his knees, and slid down the trestle of the table until he was sitting on the floor laughing.

Soon, he recovered and climbed up to his feet again. He took my hand in a crushing grip.

"Aw, part— Skeeve," he gasped, wiping tears from his yellow eyes. "I've missed you, kid. That is one of the best jokes I've heard in months. Really did me good. Fraulein!" He held up a hand and snapped his fingers. "A round for my friends!"

"But I'm serious," I insisted, as a Deveel maiden whose pointed tail stuck out beneath the frills of a tight dirndl skirt slapped a mug into my palm and held out her own for payment. I felt in my belt pouch for a coin.

Aahz drank deeply from his own mug. "No, you're not, kid. Nobody is going to march into a dimension taken over by Pervects and politely ask them to leave. At least, I'm not. That would be as pointless an exercise as asking a shark to give back the arm he just chewed off your shoulder."

"What's a shark?" I asked. Aahz grinned, but there was a touch of sadness in his expression. "Just like old times, huh, kid? Well, if you're serious about it and you really want my advice, you'll scratch this one. I wouldn't do it for all the tea in China, and don't ask me where China is. I'm not in charge of your education any more. You don't really need me to explain to you why this is a bad idea. If you've already made up your mind to go and you're talking to me pro forma, good luck. Just make sure you leave burial instructions with Tananda, okay? I'll miss you. Nice to see you, Bunny. Tell your uncle I said 'Hi.' Sorry, Curly," he turned to Wensley, "but when you guys grow the backbone to take care of this on your own you'll find it a lot easier than you think."

"I'm afraid your friend didn't comprehend the serious nature of our... situation," Wensley bleated in my ear as we left the beer garden.

"I think he understood it just fine," I replied, glumly.