robert asprin - myth-taken identity

He nodded to me, then shook the globe. Particles flew within, then re-formed as the faces of Djinns, Deveels, mermaids, and countless other species.

"This is Captain Parvattani. Fraud alert. Do not allow this female Jahk to make a purchase in your establ—" His voice was cut off suddenly. He clutched his throat.

I spun. Massha, her eyes fixed on nothing, was squeezing an invisible object between her hands. I marched up to her.

"Stop that!" I bellowed. Startled, her hands flew open. Her eyes changed.

"What's the problem, Green Stuff?" she asked, pursing her big lips in a grin.

"Nothing, Massha," I assured her. I looked back over my shoulder at Par. "Go on. Hurry up."

"Right, sir—Repeat, do not allow this female to make a purchase in your establishment. Notify a guard as soon as you can, preferably before she exits the store. That is all." He shook the globe once more and put it back in his pocket. "That was me in there," Massha whispered, aghast, pointing at the little sphere in Par's hands. "Why?"

"They've got your facts," I stated bluntly. "You fell into a trance for a minute."

She fumbled for her magik detector. The red jewel was glowing.

"How'd they get through my defenses?"

"You must have let them," Eskina explained. "Think! Did you talk to anyone? Give anyone personal details?"

"Beyond shooting the usual bull at the inns, no," Massha mused. "No, wait! I answered a couple of questions the clerk asked me when I bought that bracelet, the one I gave away."

She held up one thick wrist. I remembered the blue stone-encrusted bangle.

"You took a consumer survey?" Eskina demanded, horrified.

"I was just chatting with the clerk—who was a shapechanger. Right." Massha's broad face turned scarlet. "That's it," she stated. "When I get home I'm quitting my job. I am not fit to be a court magician, or any other kind of magician. I knew we were under attack from every direction, and what do I do? I walk right into the enemy's hands. Me and my big mouth."

"Stop that!" I ordered. "You can hold a pity party when you get home, but in the meantime, if you haven't noticed, we have a job to do. Skeeve's still in danger!"

Massha was so embarrassed that she wanted to turn down the gown Rimbaldi had had made for her. I insisted that he wrap it up and hold on to it for her, along with all our other gifts.

"We don't need the excess baggage right now," I reminded them both. "We need an intervention. Can you direct us to the nearest witch doctor?" "It's a case of possession," the female Flibberite explained, taking the tubes of her diagnostic device out of her double-pointed ears, "but the manifestation is unlike anything I've ever seen before. It's more like repossession, where someone's taken you over like a thing."

Massha was frantic. "What can you do?" she pleaded.

The doctor frowned. "I'll do my best to corrupt this spell. You know, as a fellow professional, I can't undo it without knowing the spell that made it possible, but we'll fit you out with a firewall spell that will keep any more attacks on your psyche from getting through." The doctor rummaged around in her pocket and came up with a little white pad. She scribbled on it and handed the top sheet to Massha. "Take that to the nearest alchemist and have it filled."

The alchemist, a gnarled male Gnome in a white jacket, attached a little gold box to Massha's necklace. We all crowded around them in the small shop, trying not to brush the myriad of little gadgets crammed onto the shelves lining the walls.

"This is a very powerful spell. It needs to be renewed about once a month, but I hope you won't need it for longer than that. Keep it on you at all times."

"Thanks." Massha sighed heavily, clasping the charm. "I feel better already."

"How's it work?" I inquired.

"Reflexively," the Gnome replied. "If anyone tries to read her mind or put any other predatory spell on her, the firewall rebounds on them."

"Like this?" Cire asked. He whipped up his hands and pointed them at Massha.

Luckily, Cire's back was to the door. A ring of fire sprang up around Massha, gathered itself into a huge mass, and kicked outward, sending the Walroid sprawling into a cluster of shoppers. He staggered to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. The shoppers picked themselves up, gave Cire a resentful look, and went back to their browsing.

"Whoa!" Massha exclaimed, as the fire subsided back into the little box. "That's some gizmo!"

"You want to take a break?" I inquired solicitously, after we paid the alchemist and left.

"No. Now I want revenge," she insisted, sailing above our heads with renewed confidence. "It's not just for Skeeve, but a little bit for me, too. How do we get this Rattila?"

I thought for a minute. "We need an attraction," I decided. "One that will pull in as many of the thieves as possible. Something they can't resist. An event that Moa can publicize the hell out of. A promotion of some kind?"

"Oh, but there are sales promotions every day," Parvattani pointed out, marching along beside us.

He wore his uniform, since the subterfuge was now pointless. Everyone, including our opponents, knew who we were.

"Our customers see everything, and they want to be a part of everything. You'll get thousands of people participating. We will be no better off than we are now."

"Cardholders only, of course," I stated. "It'll be irresistible. A members-only event featuring a raffle. For a date with a celebrity."

"And where are we going to find a celebrity?" Massha asked.

I looked around at our party. "Eskina?"

She snorted. "You are joking, of course."

I changed my mind on the spot. No, she didn't have the kind of big personality a celebrity needed. "Yes. I'm joking. I didn't mean you."

"What about me?" Cire asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "With your credibility and attention to detail."

Cire clutched his chest in mock outrage. "That was one time in Imper! Well, maybe a few times. Who else are you going to ask? The purple bath mat here?" "Not I," Chumley interjected at once. "If I employ unaccustomed loquacity to make a good impression, I shall spoil my marketability as a hired threat."

I fixed my eyes on Massha. She levitated away from me in alarm.

"Oh, no, Big Spender! We just spent a load of money and magikal energy putting up a firewall around me. And aren't they going to recognize me as the owner of Massha's Secret?"

Parvattani cleared his throat. "Madama, you would be surprised. To the shoppers, you can-a put on a pair of glasses, and you are disguised. Different clothes, a different hairstyle, and you are another person!"

She played her final, desperate card. "What would Hugh say?"

I advanced on her. "He'd be proud of you, stepping into the face of danger to save a friend. We're doing this for Skeeve, remember?"

She stopped floating backward. "Of course I remember, Green and Scaly. That's why I came. But what good will it do if Rattila gets my soul because I put myself up where he can take another crack at me?"

"Because he won't get anything real out of you," I assured her. "In fact, if we can get him to overload, maybe we can contaminate some of the talent he's already gathered, set him back a ways."

Massha looked dubious. "And how are we going to do that?"

I grinned. "Lie."

"No push!" Chumley cautioned an overeager Deveel who tried to climb over the velvet ropes surrounding Massha's lush throne inside her scarlet silk pavilion.

Gold-plated standards shaped like medieval trumpeters held banners with her picture on either side of the doorway. It didn't surprise me at all that The Mall had a huge supply of set pieces and furniture to support every kind of promotional activity under the sun. It'd be a good investment, if you had the space to store it, and space galore was one thing The Mall had.