Robert Asprin - Myth-Fortunes

"How strange to see a pyramid being constructed the wrong way up," See-Ker said, eyeing Diksen's pyramid to our left. "It is a funny idea."

I glanced at the people moving around on the flagstone paths that lay around the work area. It seemed as if the usual population of the site had doubled or tripled in the last couple of days.

"Who are all those people?" I asked.

"They do not look happy," See-Ker said.

You couldn't have sailed a boat like 'The King's Banana Boat' anywhere without attracting a lot of attention, so I wasn't surprised when Ghords on the site started shouting and pointing in our direction. They began to gather in large crowds, each Ghord with a torch in one hand and a tool or implement in the other. I was puzzled. When we got a little closer, I could hear what they were saying.

"Go home, Necrops! Go home, Necrops!"

See-Ker shook his head. "Why can't we all just get along?" he asked.

A flying wedge of black specks came hurtling toward us. "King See-Ker?" called the lead Scarab. "Yes, it is I," the head Necrop said. "Is that you, Beltasar?"

"It is, sir. Perhaps you should not come here today. There has been some trouble, and the Ghords are restless."

As soon as I recognized the site manager, I started to unwind the wrappings around my face.

"It's okay," I said, pushing the bandages off my head. I combed my hair out with my fingers. "They're just bringing me back here."

"Skeeve!" the Scarab sang. The rest of the workers surrounded me. "Everyone is upset over you, especially Aahz."

"I know," I said, grimly. "Just make sure we can dock, okay?"

"Leave it to me!"

Shrilling out orders, Beltasar led her winged beetles back across the narrowing expanse of desert. They buzzed the Ghords until the line of carvers and illuminators broke up into small groups and put down their tools. Beltasar buzzed back to us.

"All set! I told them you are on board. It is good news, even if the Necrops scare them."

"You've met the king?" I asked. "I didn't see any Scarabs in Lower Aegis."

"Oh, yes," Beltasar said, proudly. "I learned stonemasonry from Necrop masters sent to Scarab Polytechnic University by his majesty. Class of 7492! He came to our graduation," the beetle added proudly. "He gave me my diploma with his own hands! I shall never forget that day, and neither will my nine thousand, eight hundred and six children."

By the time the lunar boat pulled up against the long stone pier, the way had been cleared.

The Ghords cowered back from the Necrop sailors who jumped out and made the boat fast, but as soon as I came off, they crowded around me, pounding my back and singing.

"We must give praise to the Ancients for your safe return!" exclaimed Ay-Talek, the chief scribe. She ran toward the nearest shrine and began to fling flower petals over the figure of the Ancient.

"Hapi-Ar will be glad that you are back!" Lol-Kit agreed. "I must go and thank him for your safe delivery!"

"That's great," I said. She smiled and scooted away through the crowd. I turned to Pe-Kid, the green-faced Ghord. "Where's . . . ?"

"And so will Oris, She of the Dual Personalities," he said. "I shall just go and offer two kinds of thanks ..."

I grabbed him before he could run off. "Aahz. Where's Aahz?"

"We have not seen him for hours," Pe-Kid said, regarding me with surprise. "He has been in conference. Yesterday he mustered all of the Camels in the area to search the sands below Diksen's domicile. When they were not successful, he went over the hills to the Pharaoh's palace and returned with one of the royal Sphinxes. The next morning, all these people came."

I glanced over at the crowd of strangers. To my surprise, I saw they were Klahds. They weren't wearing uniforms, but they were all large, fit, and armed, like military men. I thought I recognized a few of the faces.

I went up to a big man with gray temples who looked the most familiar.

"Excuse me," I said, "but aren't you from Possiltum?"

The man's face broke into a wide smile. "Lord Skeeve?" he asked. "Good to see you again! I bet you don't remember me: Corporal Sangmeister? Lord Aahz said you were gone forever!"

I groaned. Aahz had called in not only the cavalry, but the former infantry. "Who's commanding you?"

Sangmeister aimed a thumb over his shoulder. "We're all retired now, sir, but General Badaxe is in there with Aahz. They're planning some kind of invasion. ..."

"General Badaxe . . . ? I'd better get in there!"

I strode toward the And Company office building, getting more worried as I went. He had already enlisted Tweety and, I bet, Chumley, to assist in searching for me. Now he had called in a wall of muscle.

"I shall come with you, O Skeeve," King See-Ker said. His long legs easily kept up with my hasty stride. The shorter attendants hurried in our wake, a couple of them still trying to fan their master as they ran.

My appearance surprised the office staff. I fended off their good wishes and anxious expressions of concern.

"Where's Aahz?" I asked.

"He is in conference," said Miss Tauret, pointing the way toward our office. I glanced down the hallway. Tweety the Sphinx didn't fit all the way. His leonine backside and broad wings were halfway out of the room, which meant there was a big crowd in our spacious atelier. "He doesn't want to be disturbed. He is planning something dire, I fear." Her usually cheerful face was woeful.

Revenge against Diksen, I guessed.

"It'll be okay now that I'm back," I assured her.

I peeked over the Sphinx's rump into the room. I knew most of the faces. Aahz had called in some pretty big guns. Perched on an architect's stool much too small for his sizeable backside was Hugh Badaxe,

general of the queen's troops, of Possiltum. Beside him, still clutching a bright orange handkerchief in her large hand, was Massha, my former apprentice and present Royal Magician. Mascara ran down her large face in black rivulets. She didn't seem to care. Chumley, in headcloth and kilt, offered suggestions from a corner where he would not overpower smaller members of Aahz's cabal. His purple fur drooped.

The small figure sitting on top of the drawing table with one knee over the other was Markie. She looked like a very small Klahdish child, but she was actually an adult from a dimension called Cupid, where the people were small and soft-fleshed. I knew from experience that she was capable of wreaking intense havoc wherever she went. She was there as Aahz's magikal firepower.

Markie felt she owed M.Y.T.H., Inc., several favors: first, for not outing her as a psychological hit woman, and second, for offering friendship after all she had done to us. I had even made use of her particular talents in helping to train my magik students (see CDM). She and I got along very well . . . now.

Aahz paraded up and back before his cobbled-together fighting force.

"... The idea," Aahz was saying, "is to take the place to pieces and deal with his defenses from too many angles for him to react coherently to any one of them. Diksen gets no quarter from me. Markie, you've seen the bubble. Can you break it down?"

"You bet I can," the Cupy said, her small face grim. "That magician did in one of the most decent people who ever lived. I have to admit, air magik is really my strongest suit, but I can handle water, no problem."

"Good," Aahz said. "Land those fighting fish on the ground. Badaxe's people on Camel-back can handle them once they hit the sand. Unless they sink. Which wouldn't make me cry at all."

"Look, Aahz," Guido said, "fightin's not the first solution."

"What? Diplomacy? And listen to him lie to us again?" Aahz snarled. Guido subsided, shaking his head. Aahz in full flame was more terrifying than a dragon.

"I must concur," Chumley said, holding up a purple forefinger. "Did he actually lie to you? And who caused him to call for his guards? Anyone would react to a forceful approach."