Myth Alliances

With that, she dived back into the fray.

Another twenty or thirty minutes went by, but after the crowd thinned out, Bunny emerged from the book tent with the author in her grasp. The little gray man's head only came to the middle of her ear, but she held on to his arm as though he was the most important man in her uncle's entourage. (Bunny had been brought up to be a moll, but she was wasted in that, er, position.) She performed introductions with the air of a magician presenting her very best illusion. The author's eyes widened as she spoke my name.

"Skeeve the Magnificent," Zol Icty said, holding out a long, narrow hand to me. "My, my, I've heard so much about you. And I must say that you live up to my expectations."

I wasn't wearing the terrifying illusion that I normally did when seeing clients, so all he saw was the blond youth whose face I shaved every day. "What do you mean?"

"I've heard you're a man of compassion and thoroughness," the Kobold said, beaming up at me. "I can just see the generous nature glowing from every pore. I am honored to be in your presence." I was torn between wanting to throw up and feeling infinitely flattered. Aahz never noticed my compassion or thoroughness. Most of the time he was upset that I didn't grab everything on the table when my opponents were at a loss. "So what can I do for you?"

THREE

"Let's take this show on the road!" —m. rooney

I tried to live up to the reputation Zol insisted I had while I outlined our mission over lunch.

We were in a private booth in a very small, dimly lit diner I knew, at some distance from the bookstore, but it was still difficult to have a private conversation. Hundreds of people, one after another, came up to our table with a book held out and a simpering expression on his or her face. Because I was supposed to be compassionate, I tried to hold my temper at each interruption, though it got more and more difficult when I could only squeeze out three or four words before the next one came.

With my position in the Bazaar I could usually depend on a maitre d' to fend off intruders while I dined, but even he, a Deveel in his middle years, was starstruck at the sight of our guest, and did nothing to prevent the crowd of passionate Zol Icty fans from getting in the way of the service of our drinks and food, and of my narrative flow.

The Kobold blinked up wryly at me from the book he was signing for a Gnomish woman whose blue face was flushed a becoming sapphire at the sight of her idol. "You've been very patient, Master Skeeve," he assured me, "but you needn't worry. This is the last one. I only sold 8,736 copies today, and including this, I have now signed them all."

I gawked at him.

"You counted all of them? You kept track?"

He shrugged modestly. "Second nature for a Kobold. It's said we have a mathematical bent that inclines at a perfect 90 degree angle. Now, if you would be so kind, pour me some tea, and let's talk about your problem."

Impressed at last, I complied.

"Pervects," he mused, sipping from his cup of tea. "Pervects are very interesting. They have every advantage, coming from a dimension that uses both magik and technology with equal ease. Their physical attributes are such that they are saved from harm in circumstances that would kill weaker beings. Their skin is natural armor, their teeth and claws formidable weapons, yet their species evolved superior intelligence. They have so much confidence in their own expertise that it's difficult to prevent one from carrying out his or her plans."

I met Wensley's eyes and nodded. (Bunny was still staring at our guest, though I could tell she really was listening.) "That sounds like the ones I know," I said.

"The key here is secrecy. Don't ever tell a Pervect what you want from him, or he'll do his best to thwart you. You can't expect someone with that kind of intelligence and ego to go along with the wishes of a lesser species, and in their view, we are all lesser species."

"That's what I was afraid of," Wensley droned sadly. "We tried to tell them to go, but they wouldn't."

"You were not speaking from a position of strength, Master Wensley," Zol admonished him. "With Pervects you must dictate."

Lots of luck, I thought. "I'd like to lay out my plans before you, Master Zol," I began. "Ten Pervects is an army. We can't force them out by strength, because as you point out, any one of them could tear us apart. We can't use threats, same reason. Blackmail would backfire on us, and besides, it's too dirty a scheme for me. It looks like the only thing we can do is see if we can find out what they're afraid of and scare them away. I know Pervects don't frighten easily, but even they must fear something. Or maybe we could trick them into leaving and not coming back, convince them there's a plague in the kingdom or something. I hope you can give us some advice on what we could use to pry them loose."