Robert Asprin: Myth-Chief

"But they're sneaky!" Rokra insisted. "Look, I heard you're the best. I need the best."

"Sorry," I repeated, a little more firmly. I beckoned, and Gleep strode into the room, preceded by an almost visible exhalation of sulfur-scented breath. "That's not what I do."

"No one knows what it is you do do," Rokra said.

"Maybe so," I agreed, "but what you want is not it. Thanks for dropping in."

Rokra tried holding on to the arms of the chair, but Gleep was good at winkling grubworms out of stumps on Klah. He wriggled his nose under the Deveel's tail and heaved upward.

Rokra shot out of the chair. "You guys, living on your reputations!" he raged.

That's all I have, I thought, as my dragon escorted him out.

The next would-be client had a proposition. Cardenilla, a tall, willowy Deveel, fluttered red eyelids at me.

"You look like the kind of guy who would understand a girl's problems," she said.

"I'll try," I promised. "What kind of question do you need answered?"

"Well," she began breathily, leaning forward so I got a generous glimpse of cleavage, "All I want is a little peace and quiet. I made a mistake, I admit it. I rented out my roof to a Gargoyle. Whenever I go past him, he dumps water on me. He's a pain in the tail. I want him gone."

"Have you tried talking to him?" I asked. This started to sound intriguing. I had a buddy who was a Gargoyle. The solid-stone guys always struck me as pretty easygoing. I wondered what had set him off. Could Gargoyles go insane? Was he interested in Cardenilla?

"Talk to him? Of course I've talked to him!" the woman said. "Big, ugly oaf. He just says that that's what Gargoyles do. He said he thought I knew. I can't stand it anymore. Please, pretty please, Mr. Skeeve. Get that beast off my roof."

"Er..." It was tempting. It would give me a chance to get to know a little more about Gargoyles. But, no. "Let me give you a referral, no charge. Try M.Y.T.H., Inc. They're really good at that kind of job. They're right here in the Bazaar. I can give you directions."

Cardenilla waved a hand. "I already talked to them."

"You did? Then what are you doing here?"

She opened large, outraged eyes at me. "They had the nerve to quote me four gold coins for the job. Four! So, I came to you."

I shook my head. "Well, my price for the job is ten."

"Ten! You're just one Klahd! Why do you cost more than twice what they're asking?"

"You pay for my time and experience," I said severely. There was no way I was going to undercut my friends.

"Well, forget it," the Deveel woman said, rising to her hooves. I could see steam trickling out of her pointed red ears. "I'm going back to them! You've got some kind of nerve! Ten gold coins, just for throwing one big, fat Gargoyle off one roof!"

She stormed out past Gleep. I sighed. His big blue eyes fixed me with a puzzled look.

"Skeeve ... okay ... ?" he asked.

Did I mention that my dragon can talk?

Gleep may only be a baby, but he's far more intelligent than anyone else realized. Even I didn't know he was that smart for a long time. Now we keep the secret between us. Not even Bunny knew. That made him my real secret weapon.

"Yes, I'm okay," I said. He lolloped over to me and slimed my face with a swipe of his long tongue. "I miss my friends."

"Still... friends," Gleep assured me. I scratched vigorously behind his ears with both hands, which caused his eyelids to droop happily. "I know. I just hope that they know it."

The next few days brought would-be clients with most of the same requests as the first few. Most of them wanted me to undertake dangerous adventures, mostly treasure retrieval type or disposal of former friends or business associates type. Pretty straightforward adventuring. None of them was what I was interested in doing. A few I just turned away, but the profitable-sounding prospects I tried to steer back to my friends. I wasn't going to tread on their territory if there was any way to avoid it.

I sat with my head propped on my palm, trying not to look bored, as my sixth visitor of the day went through his "simple plan."

"... So all you have to do is go to the Temple of the Six Temptations in Harbold, pry the big yellow stone out of the idol on the center altar, and bring it back to me. Perfectly easy," Oobloo, a hearty Orkta told me, leaning back at ease, or, rather, sprawling all over my guest chair. The boneless beings had eight limbs and two huge eyes. They

slithered rather than walked, and people were always surprised that invertebrates like that were intelligent. I cleared my throat.

"There are a lot of other people who undertake that kind of mission. Not me. You sound like you already have all the details. All you have to do is go ahead and follow the instructions you gave me. It sounds pretty straightforward. You could do it yourself."

"I don't want to do it myself," the Orkta said, his pale green face glowing phosphorescent. "Are you calling me spineless?"

I didn't have a reply that wouldn't sound insulting, so I just summoned my bouncer. "Gleep!"

"Sorry," I said, looking up blearily at the Indigone. I had spent another long day listening to would-be clients trying to hire me for straightforward magikal enterprises. "What's the question you need answered?"

That took the burly, blue-furred gentleman aback. He thought about it. "How much will it cost me to get you to go and get my grandfather's picture back from my ex-wife before she sells it?"

"That's not really what I do," I explained, for maybe the twentieth time that day. "You know what you need. You don't require my advice. There's no mystery here. You need someone to go and talk your ex into giving up the portrait, steal it, or buy it from her."

"Yeah," the fellow said. "Someone. You. How about it?"

I shook my head. "Not me. I know some great people who can take the job on for a reasonable fee," I said, reaching into my desk for the top card off the stack of M.Y.T.H., Inc. cards I had placed there. "Er, you don't have to tell them I sent you. The ... er... price might go up if you do."

"Gotcha," the fellow said, rising. He took the little paste-board and stowed it away in a lock of fur. "Whatever. I might just go steal it back myself since you mention it."

"I'm not suggesting that," I said, in alarm.

"Forget it, guy." The fellow leered. "I never heard it from you."

When the flap closed behind him, I could see Bunny grinning at me from the doorway. "Don't say it," I warned her. "Not a word," she promised me. I clutched my head.

None of the potential clients were giving me the chance I needed to prove myself! I faced a more complex challenge than I had ever foreseen. Not only was I trying to get my new business going, but I had to keep from cheating my old partners.

"Go get some lunch," Bunny said. "I'll mind the store. Maybe a good prospect will come in while you're gone."

"I'll bring you a sandwich," I promised.

"Hey, Skeeve," Gus the Gargoyle called to me, as I entered the Golden Crescent Inn. After the carefully low-key decor of my new office, the inn almost sent my eyeballs into sensory overload. Every surface was brightly colored and shiny, reflecting the magikal light that issued from round white balls scattered around the ceiling. "The usual?"

"Strawberry milk shake," I agreed, leaning on the counter. "And today's special."

"One usual coming up," he said, brightly. "And a usual for Bunny when you're done?"

"Right," I said. "Thanks."

I found a seat at a corner table and sat with my back against the wall, with a good view of the restaurant. I harbored no illusion that I was as safe here as I was in my own

home or office. Most people liked me, but I knew some who felt grudges against me and my friends. I waved a casual hello to faces that I knew. Some looked surprised to see me, but some didn't. Word got around fast.