Myth-Gotten Gains

"How do you know?" I demanded, hauling out an entire set of encyclopaedia, one fat volume at a time. It was followed by The Complete Little Nemo, books of Pervish cartoons, a Dragonette cookbook, and at least fifteen books on how to write stories.

"My dear Aahz! All of these are ordinary books. Not a single magikal text in here. They're all storybooks. Novels."

"You are putting me on!" I shook Froome. "Where is it?"

"I'll never tell you where I have hidden the Golden Book," he said, throwing his head back defiantly. "I would rather die."

I shoved my face close to his.

"That can be arranged."

"Gold? Oh, I saw that," Tananda said. "That was Payge?" She hurried back to the last standing shelf and climbed up to the second highest tier. Froome's face fell.

Tananda braced herself, and clamped her hand around one volume. Now that I was looking in the right direction, I could just see a glimpse of gold.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I can't get it out!"

"What do you mean, you can't get it out? It's probably just too heavy to pull with one hand."

"I mean, it's not moving at all."

"There they are!" a soft voice declared.

A bookworm slunk up the stairs and reared his upper body to point in our direction. Several other bookworms, dressed in uniforms with gold braid on their peaked caps, came swarming up around him. They surrounded us. A whole coterie inched up around Tananda, heading her off before she could clamber to the top of the stacks.

"All right," the leader whispered, as he rose up to stare me straight in the face. "You are disturbing the peace of this establishment. You must go."

"We can't go yet," I said. "I need a book!"

"It looks like you've got all the books you need," he said. "When you have finished with those, come back. But quietly! In the meanwhile, please leave, or we will have to use force."

"At least let us take a look at the book on that shelf," I said. These characters didn't look that strong. I figured once we got it down, we could make a break for it with the D-hopper.

"Absolutely not," the library clerk said, as clerks shoveled Froome's collection back into his satchel of holding. "All books on our shelves become part of our permanent collection. They are accessible only to card holders! Take them out of here," he instructed the guards.

I had been given the bum's rush more than once while working for Calypsa, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. I shook off all the little hands and marched down the stairs with dignity ahead of the bookworms.

"You're making a mistake," I said. "We have permission to be here. We're making a documentary about this place. You've just earned a role as the designated villain. You've got one chance to make us change our minds."

"Shh!" the guards hissed in unison.

"You have to let me get that book!" Calypsa pleaded, as they hustled her out. They got us into the foyer. Long lines of bookworms were waiting at the desk to check out their choices.

"If you do not listen to me, I will dance until you do!" She threw up her arm.

I grabbed it. "Save it for outside!" I said. I tilted my head toward the door. Her eyes widened, but she nodded and relaxed.

They marched us out into the street, then left us, dusting their hands together. Froome stumbled into the gutter, clutching his bag to his chest. A vehicle shaped like a bowl on wheels with three Bookworms in it screeched to a halt and sounded a horn at him that sounded like an indignant canary. Froome scrambled back onto the pavement and headed for the entrance.

"I'm going back for Payge," he said. "I'll explain it's all a mistake. You can't stop me!"

"Says who?" I demanded, making a beeline for him. "I'm going back for it! I'll toss you over the next building!"

"In front of all of these people?" Froome said. "They'll jump you before you can hit me twice. This is a very law-abiding civilization. I'm going to take back my book!" He turned back to open the door. I dodged in front of him. He tried to get past me. I put a vise grip around his wrist.

"Shall we dance?" I asked. "Buirnie, hit it!"

A blast from the Flute caused everyone, including Froome, to turn and look. Klik, the spotlight, flew about twenty feet into the air and beamed its brightest light down on Calypsa. The drum swung into a sexy rhythm.

"Give it all you've got, girl!" I said.

Calypsa started whirling, waving her arms up and down to the music. In no time, her Dance of Fascination had captured the attention of passersby. Plump, round-faced Bookworms were crowding and shoving to get an unobstructed view of her. The bowl-shaped vehicles stopped where they were. The occupants slithered out to join the growing throng. Bookworms climbed walls and light posts to take a gander at Calypsa.

For her part, the Walt was making the best use of her audience. She flirted with the guys in the front row, tickling under