Myth-Told Tales

I sniffed through the bars of the door, to the discomfiture of the guards both inside and outside the vault I could tell that the day's takings had come from a multitude of dimensions. The pile of gold gleamed invitingly. I am afraid that the avid gleam in my eyes made the Klahds on duty very nervous. Quite a quantity of it smelled of dragon, meaning that at one time it had come from a hoard possessed by one of my kind. Since dragons never give away any of their amassed wealth, I only hoped that it had been obtained by stealth that did not result in harm or death to its possessor. To put it mildly, I would take against that. Still, the strange scent was not that of a dragon. It seemed that it should be familiar to me, but I just could not place it.

"Sirs, sirs!" A squeaky chorus of voices came from above. I looked up to see a small flight of Shutterbugs sail out of the air and land on the colorful display of story-books beside the Treasury.

"There you are," Guido said, greeting the black and silver insects. These were denizens of Nikkonia. Their especial talent was the ability to capture an image on the sensitive film that lined their wings. A trained magician could transfer these images to larger pieces of parchment. "How come you didn't report in when I got here, Koda?"

Koda, the largest of the Shutterbugs, rubbed at his nose with the tip of his foreleg. "That Klahd is distrustful of us, sirs. He swats at us."

"Yeah, he's a regular xenophobe," Guido said. "I already caught that. Anything new to report?"

Koda turned to his number. They each spread out one wing, and small scales sifted down onto the bookshelf. "Nothing of much helpfulness, good sirs. The sight lines are not good, and the light levels are low. On the night of the last attack, we saw nothing at all, though we have taken many images, as you see. We wish to please Don Bruce!"

"You're good employees," Nunzio said, soothingly, to the agitated Shutterbug. "Just keep on doing the good work you've been doing." He and Guido picked up the small, translucent cells and held them up to the light "I don't get it. What kind of monster have you ever heard of that can't be seen or smelled or heard, but can crunch up a stone pillar?"

"I dunno," Guido said. "One thing I learned, once we started workin' with the Boss, and here I am not speakin' of Don Bruce, is that there's way more out there than either of us will ever find out in our lifetimes. This, though, is not one of those things. We need to figure this out, and pronto!"

I turned back for one more scent of gold, but I felt a tug at my leash.

"C'mon, Gleep, boy," Nunzio said. "We will stake out this place tonight. In the meantime, I know a little place that does wyvern parmigiana like Mama used to make."

At precisely the evening hour of nine, gargoyle mouths attached to pillars and sconces around the vast shop all emitted the following announcement at once.

"Attention, please, guests of his royal majesty, King Petherwick. Thy visit, alas, draws to a close. Within five minutes the doors will be locked, and for security's sake, thou must be on the other side of it. Pray carry the goods thee wishes to purchase to any of our willing servants at the desks near the front, and they will count up thy expenditure for today. We wish to tender to thee our most sincere thanks that thou have visited King-Mart, and prithee have a nice day."

Guido put down the ceramic Kobold-shaped nightlight that he had been examining at the head of aisle 2.

"Anything, Gleep?" he asked.

The two enforcers, knowing the keenness of my sense of smell, had instructed me to sniff the inside and outside of the Treasury, and to compare the scents I found there with those of any of the customers. Nunzio's assessment was that the criminal would be unable to resist returning to the scene of the crime.

"Especially with all that nice gold piling up," he said.

"Too temptin'," Guido agreed. "How about it, little fellah?"

"Gleep," I said, ruefully.