Myth-Told Tales

Guido reached over and roughly touseled my ears. "You said it, fella," he told me with a grin.

As I continued to sniff around the great hall of merchandise I caught a scent that was unfamiliar to me—unfamiliar and dangerous. It caused a frisson to race down the scales along my back. We dragons are not easily frightened. Nor was I now, not until I had the facts of the matter in sum before me. It appeared, therefore, that my sensation of fearfulness was caused by the scent itself. I judged that it contained a pheromone that, unlike the mating chemicals that caused attraction, provoked a feeling of fear and dread. I found I was curious, but I would proceed with caution. I dropped lower until my belly was virtually sweeping the spotless black-and-white tiles of the floor.

The two Mob enforcers noticed the change in my stance, and followed my lead in applying caution. Both of them drew from inside their coats the miniature crossbows that they carried. Deveel shoppers plying the aisles for soap flakes might have been taken aback had they encountered the two Klahds on the street, but within King-Mart, where marketing was an element of the shopping experience, such behavior was accepted as playacting. That would explain why the presence of bodies had aroused neither fear nor a visit from the Merchants' Association.

Guido had been correct in his assessment of the source of the former king's wealth. The huge hall, seemingly a tent on the outside, was built of wood. I smelled enchantment in its seams; that would serve to keep out intruders. Yet, according to accounts, something had penetrated the interior and had managed to conceal itself while committing several sallies against pelf and personnel alike.

Hair wash, board games, garden implements, hand-bags ... there seemed no end to the types of goods that the former Shoalmirkers could produce. A sheaf of rakes with wooden handles leaned drunkenly in a tall crate that was studded with small boxes containing paper envelopes of flower seeds. Sacks of food lay beside shelves of toys; racks of garments ranged back out of sight in the right-hand third of the store. I thought the colors were vulgar, but as I had noted with regard to my pet, there is no accounting for taste.

A middle-aged Klahd with the potbelly of prosperity wearing the king's livery came striding toward us. He wore a determined smile, and maneuvered past the weapons to shake the two males' hands.

"Mr. Guido and Mr. Nunzio!" he said. "Finding everything you want?"

"Not exactly," Guido said, wryly. "I believe we are lookin' for somethin' in a large-jawed monster with a taste for gold and ambuscade. You got one of those?"

The Klahd's smile became somewhat pained. "You jest, sirs, but it is not a matter for amusement. As Chancellor of the Exchequer, it is my men who are taking the brunt of these nighttime raids."

"You will excuse, I hope, the effort at levity," Guido said smoothly. "We take all our visits seriously, Lord Howadzer. Maybe you can tell us what's changed since we was here last in your flagship location?"

Howadzer thought for a minute. "Not much. A few changes in personnel, perhaps. His majesty commanded that we rotate the staff so that everyone has a chance to take part in every job. He likes to see a variety of servants at each of the stores when he holds court. It is meant to make employees more flexible, but we are getting a number of complaints. You cannot make a craftsman into a salesman, nor a seamstress into a security guard, no matter how easy it seems to interchange one peasant for another. After all, we have to pay them now."

"You hadda pay them before," Guido pointed out.

"Not as much as we do today," Howadzer said, obviously aggrieved. "They have been speaking with the neighbors." The ultimate word was accompanied by a visible shudder. "Brr."

"Don't like Deveels?" Nunzio asked.

Howadzer frowned at him. "Well, you are from our world, too, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we're all Klahds."

"Please! I don't like that word! It was imposed upon us by people not like us, who do not live in our world! I am not happy about living in exile, especially in a place like this. I am only willing to put up with it if prosperity follows, but if I may say so in confidence, it is too long in coming for my taste."

"No, I can see where that would be a problem," Nunzio said, with a commendable degree of tact.

"There must be better places than this," Howadzer said.

"You could leave," Guido suggested.

The chancellor looked at him disdainfully. "And go where? With what? His majesty pays but poor wages compared with going concerns in the Bazaar. Besides," he sighed, "I remain loyal to my fellow Klahds, if you must call us that. At least we do not have horns and tails, or green skin. Or consort with strange monsters." He eyed me nervously. I sidled up and deliberately slurped his hand with my tongue.