Robert Asprin - Myth-Chief

"Er, how many people can I bring in as partners on that?" he asked.

I didn't ask him how many partners he had. I knew that was an elastic number. Instead, I turned to Matfany. "How many peaks in that range?"

"Visible from town? Well, sixteen you can really see, only some of em's not real impressive...."

"There you go, Geek," I said, slapping Matfany on the back to make him stop talking. "Fifteen not counting yours. Naming rights for the whole massif will run six hundred and forty gold coins. Renewable every year."

The Geek nearly coughed out his own teeth. "How much? You want me to starve? You have to be crazy! Six hundred and forty gold coins for a nontangible asset?" "it's for immortality, Geek," I said. "You're out of your mind, Aahz! A hundred is too much."

"We're talking about a whole mountain range!"

"For that much money I ought to get mineral rights, too!"

"Well, you don't," I snarled. "You get to name it. That's it"

"How much are you putting into this project?"

"My precious time," I snarled, "which you're beginning to waste." I grabbed Matfany and hauled him to his feet. "I can see you're not ready for the big time. Look, I'll just go over and talk to Gribaldi Enterprises. Grib knows a good thing, and he deals in souvenirs. It'll mean more to him than it does to you."

"Wait a minute, Aahz!" the Geek shouted. I could see that the image of a mountain with his name on it was still dancing before his eyes, not to mention lining up fifteen investors to buy the rights to the other peaks whose fees would no doubt cover the Geek's mountain and then some. "How long's this offer good for?"

"Until I get out the door," I said, towing the protesting Swamp Fox with me.

"Now, Mr. Aahz, just what's all the hurry?" Matfany asked.

"What's the hurry is that we've got a lot of stops to make. I thought the Geek would be happy to get first chance at naming rights. I'm not wrong that often, but, boy, did I blow it this time."

"No, you didn't, Aahz," the Geek said, lurching forward and grabbing my arm. "C'mon. Don't go away

mad. We're old friends. Come and sit down." He gave me an ingratiating smile. "I mean, it sounds like a great idea, but where's the return on my investment?"

My mood changed in one second from fury to graciousness. I dragged the Swamp Fox back to his chair and dropped him in it.

"I'm glad you asked me that," I said. "Foxe-Swampburg's gonna come roaring back to life. You can get in on the ground floor. You've got business interests in the Bazaar. Maybe you've got some merchandise that the tourists can't resist. I'm sure Matfany here can fix you up with office space, vendors, whatever you need to make capital out of your investment. I don't have to tell you how. Telling you how to make money out of something like this is like teaching my grandmother to suck eggs."

The compliment wasn't lost on the Geek, but he was still hesitating. I leaned up and stretched out a hand for the doorknob.

"All right!" he blurted. "You have a deal."

I turned and extended the hand to him before he could change his mind.

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said. "Let's sign some papers. Half payable in advance."

Matfany loped alongside looking worried as I strode toward my next best prospect. Having the map marked up with the Geek's signature was the best spur I could put in front of another buyer. If they saw the good stuff disappearing, they would want in. I jingled the bag of coins in my pocket. The sound added to my good mood.

"Three hundred and twenty gold coins," Guido said. "That is a very nice hunk of change for the kitty."

"Pretty good," I smirked. The Geek had negotiated me down to half, but that was to be expected. "I bet I'm winning. Skeeve couldn't possibly earn that much that fast. He just isn't the operator I am."

"Don't count him out too fast, tiger," Tananda said, catching up with me and winding her arm into mine. "He's pretty creative."

"Yeah, but would he come up with a way to make something out of nothing like we just did?" I asked. "And we're about to milk that nothing for a lot more money. All for the sake of Foxe-Swampburg, of course," I added, for the sake of the client.

Matfany's troubled expression finally broke out in words.

"Mister Aahz, I'm not sure I like this too much. The people in Foxe-Swampburg—they've always gotten by just calling things by their names."

"You don't have to use 'em," I pointed out. "No matter what you heard me say back there, naming rights doesn't convey any other rights to the sponsors. They get to put their names on a map. Whoop de doo. You don't hear about people trying to get ownership of the points they name in the Interdimensional Star Registry, do you?"

"Never heard of that," Matfany said. "Kinda the same thing, is it?"

"You bet. Some bright thinker—I bet he was a Pervect— promised some sucker that if he gave him a couple of gold pieces, that he could pick out any star on the map except the fancy ones and name it whatever he wanted. By the last count there were about a million named for girlfriends, a hundred thousand named after pets, and ten million named for NASCAR."

"What's NASCAR?" Matfany asked.

"Never mind," I said briskly. "Look, the point is that we've earned three hundred and twenty gold coins, half of it in hand. How much does the kingdom need to get out of debt?"

"About twenty times that much to start with," Matfany said, gloomily. "Mr. Aahz, there just isn't enough to sell to get that kind of capital.

"Leave that to me," I said confidently. "I've got some more ideas."

"That, sir, is what I fear," Matfany said.

Hermalaya held out one slender hand to the choconut tycoon. He took it in his big paw, looking dazed and pleased.

"Mister Oatis, it has just been a pleasure?" she said.

"Oh, no, pretty lady, the pleasure was all ours!" he exclaimed. "What a day!"

Nunzio, Chumley, and I had all of her ceremonial gear locked up in their respective cases. Massha stood beside the princess, an honorary lady-in-waiting. We all had the system down to the point where we could get the Cake room cleaned up in under half an hour, including magikal deep cleaning, thanks to a trumpet-shaped gadget Massha had unearthed in a wizard's estate sale in Plupert. Sebellum Oatis's nine children were lined up wide-eyed and quiet, waiting for their chance to say goodbye to the princess.

"I don't know how you did it," Oatis's wife whispered to her, "but they've been good all afternoon! And all with a few little pieces of cake!"

"It's not what Cake is," Hermalaya said, smiling. "It's what Cake means."

"I know. You have triumphed over such adversity thanks to Cake. I read it in your diary. I bought a dozen copies for all my friends!"

"Well, that's just so kind," the princess gushed. "I mean, I didn't want to share my private thoughts all over the dimensions? But Skeeve here told me that a lot of people would find the story moving? I kind of guess they have."

I grinned a little sheepishly. The publication of The Princess's Diary had been a hard sell with Hermalaya, but I had pointed out she had already given copies not only to Massha's friend Bobbie Jo, but also several of the clients who had requested them as mementos after their Cake ceremonies. I suggested that she find a good publisher who would present the princess's own words in her voice, all the better to drum up support for Foxe-Swampburg. She agreed, but only for the sake of her kingdom. It had sold thousands of copies already. Bunny was keeping track of the royalties.

"... I wish I could take lessons from you. And I think my two older daughters are interested, too."