Myth-Gotten Gains

At that moment, a black-and-brown blur zipped past us through the nearest cross row. We looked at each other, then rushed after him. Where was Calypsa?

Ahead, I could see a sign with the zig-zag pattern that was the universal symbol for stairs. He was making for the ground floor. I put on a burst of speed. I didn't want to have to deal with security, if this place had any. He was pretty quick on his feet. He managed to outdistance me in seconds.

The stacks suddenly opened out to an open area, with a railed staircase at the far end of it. I saw Froome, bookbag and all, racing ahead of me. Suddenly, he pinwheeled to a stop, with his hands raised. I hurried to catch up. Tananda leaped down from the shelves ran after me.

Chapter 16

AS SOON AS I drew level with him, I could see why he had stopped. Calypsa stood at the top of the staircase. She had Ersatz drawn and leveled under his trembling chin. Froome looked from her to me and back again.

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" he begged.

"Steady does it, child," Ersatz said. Calypsa looked as frightened as the Pikinise did, but she clutched the Sword with both hands. "He is no threat to you. He won't flee. Use me as a deterrent, not a weapon. Do not lean forward or you will spit him through the windpipe."

"Ulp!" said Froome. Under his fur, his skin turned greenish.

"I am trying," Calypsa said, but she was as nervous as our quarry. The Sword's point wobbled up and down. I put a finger underneath it and lifted it up out of the way.

"Ah, there you are, friend Aahz!" Ersatz said.

"How did you know where he'd be?" I asked.

"Ersatz figured it out," Calypsa said. "He made me take him to a chart of the floor. After only one look, he said that Froome would probably flee to this point. And he has. I used my Dance of Speed to bring us here ahead of Froome. I have so much to learn from Ersatz!" She fixed an expression of worship on the blade. The dark blue eyes dipped modestly.

"I offer my small skills for what they're worth."

"Nice work," I said. I turned to the cowering Pikinise. "We came for Payge. Give him to us. Now."

It's hard to look scared and defiant at the same time, but Froome managed. He stuck out his pointy chin. "Y-y-you can't have him."

"Look," I snarled. "I have not chased you across three dimensions to have you say no to me. I might have been inclined to negotiate about three days ago, maybe give you something

for your trouble, but not any more. You've got him. We need him. Gimme the bag." I held out my hand.

More than reluctantly, he slid the thick strap off his shoulder and handed the bag over. I grabbed it from him.

"You have no right to do this," he said. "I'm entitled to my source material. You're interfering with my job!"

"Yeah?" I asked, glaring him in the eye. "Well, you're interfering with the life of that young lady's grandfather. I'd say that that trumps your career."

"His life?" Froome said, looking less annoyed and terrified, and more interested. "Tell me more."

Calypsa never needed more than a single word of encouragement to open the floodgates.

"Well, you see, my grandfather is the great Calypso..."

I opened the bag and pulled out the book I found inside.

"There," I gloated, shoving it in Asti's field of view. "Think I'm a screwup now?"

"'Mud and Malarkey, The Account of My Years as A Village Idiot in the Kingdom of Ruizmotto,'" Asti read off the spine. "Yes, I agree, it could be your life story. That's not Payge."

"What?" I said. I looked at the book.

"Besides, he has a solid gold cover," Asti reminded me. "This is morocco calfskin in a disgusting shade of green. Published about fifty years ago, I'd say by the smell."

"I've been to Ruismotto," Buirnie said. "I know a song about the queen who ruled fifty years ago. She had a very big nose. Want to hear it?"

"No!" I said.

".. .And the wizard Barrik turned out to be a bad neighbor, a very tyrant who terrorized us..."

I stuck my hand in again. Sure enough, there was another "This thing is more roomy than it looks." I decanted that volume. On a shiny black leather cover in silver were the words "Volume III."

"Not right."

I kept removing books from the bookbag. It seemed to have an infinite capacity, all of it filled with lengthy personal accounts, histories, collections of poems, legends and urban myths. Then I remembered the dusty shelves in his study on Pikini. I glared at Froome. "You had to bring the whole collection with you?" I asked.

"I..." the guy swallowed. I realized he was fairly young. "The account of your conquests in the Golden Book was fearsome. I didn't think I would be safe to return. Are you going to pull out my guts and tie them in knots?"

"Only if I don't find what I'm looking for, PDQ," I said. I had run out of room on the desk, and was stacking books on the floor. "Where is it?"

"It's not here," Kelsa said.