Robert Asprin - E.Godz

A destruction-level truth spell spoke for itself as far as the consequences of telling a lie while subject to its power. It was, to say the least, a major commitment on the part of the recipient.

Ammi took a deep breath, blew it out, and finally said: "Okay. But put a time limit on it, all right? I don't mind swearing to tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth or else kablammo, but not forever. I can't take the pressure."

"How would seventy-two hours suit you?"

"That's all?" The perfect silver brows drew together. "What's the catch?"

"Nothing. And I don't need a destruction-level truth spell on me to tell you this: Within seventy-two hours, Edwina will have no further use for you or Teddy Tumtum or any other device to spy on me or my sister ever again!"

White clouds billowed out in all directions from the open-air patio beneath the awnings of the Cafe du Monde in New Orleans. Passers-by exchanged nervous glances and sniffed the air, convinced that where there was so much smoke there had to be a fire of Hollywood disaster-movie proportions.

Then they sniffed the air a second time and drooled. Nothing was burning. The only scents on the early morning breeze were of heaping platters of freshly puffed-up beignets and oceans of chicory-laced coffee. Those white clouds weren't smoke; they were sugar.

Under the awning, at a table with a clear view of the sidewalk (under less cloudy conditions) Dov Godz sat at the epicenter of the sugar blast, leaned over, and offered his sister the use of his handkerchief.

"If I'd known you were going to react like that, I'd have phoned you," he said. His face, his hands, his hair and the front of his clothes were all covered with a thorough dusting of powdered sugar. It had rolled over him like a tidal wave when he'd told Peez the truth about Edwina's condition and his sister had responded by shouting, "WHAT?!" right across the plate of beignets that their waitress was just setting down between them.

Unfortunately, at the time, the waitress was also balancing a tray laden with many more beignet platters, intended for other tables. Peez's unexpected outburst took the poor woman by surprise. She gave a little yelp of dismay and tossed her tray into the air. When it hit the floor, powdered sugar reared up like the stem of a mushroom cloud and spread everywhere. (Thus the appearance of a four-alarm fire at the Cafe du Monde when it was really only a multiple beignet pileup on the interstate.)

"How did you expect me to react?" Peez countered, wiping her face with Dov's handkerchief. She too wore a light dusting of powdered sugar, though nowhere near so much as her brother. "First you show up on my doorstep—"

"You don't have a doorstep."

"All right, on the threshold of my hotel room, then. My first thought was that Mom had died and you wanted to break the news to me gently, in person."

"Which would have been very kind of me to do," Dov remarked. "Even if it wouldn't be the sort of thing you'd expect from me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Peez was genuinely puzzled.

"Well, it's been years and years since we've seen each other. I assumed it was your choice because you, uh, weren't all that fond of my company. Most people don't tend to hold high opinions of the folks they avoid."

"Dov, we've been avoiding each other." Peez reached out to pat her brother's hand. "We've both been stubborn and we've both been stupid. I've finally come to realize that. I'm not very proud of the person I was. You want to know what I really think of you?"

Dov pulled back just a hair and asked, "Is this going to hurt?"

"I think you're someone who is more than capable of kindness." It wasn't a lot, as tributes go, but it was sincere.

Just as well, Dov thought. If she'd started gushing over me, I wouldn't have trusted her for a Miami minute.

"You do?" he said.

"Of course I do! You know, Dov, I remember a lot more about our childhood than I used to. I've chosen to remember it, and about time, too! While I've been on the road, I've picked up a few new ways of looking at things. I used to do my best to forget all your positive traits because that might mean I'd have to admit that the problems in my life weren't all your fault."

"Same here." Dov scratched his head sheepishly. A miniature white cloud detached itself from his scalp and rained sweetened dandruff onto his shoulders. "That's the good thing about having a rival: You've always got someone to saddle with the blame for just about everything."

Peez nodded. She ran one finger around the rim of her coffee mug, chasing away tiny drifts of fallen sugar, and said: "When Mom first set this whole charade in motion, I wanted to beat you out of the company leadership because I thought we were enemies. Later on, I wasn't certain if I wanted the job myself, but I didn't want you to have it because I thought you didn't appreciate what E. Godz, Inc. was really all about. I never once thought to find you, to see if my assumptions about you were right or wrong."

"Same here twice," Dov said. "Well? Were you as wrong about me as I was about you?"

"Very wrong," she said. "Very wrong and very ashamed. We're family, Dov. Not enemies, not rivals, not strangers: family. We've had our differences—all families do— but we've made the mistake of letting them get out of hand."

"We had help," Dov said bitterly, recalling his dream. "Edwina. Maybe things never would have gotten so bad between us if she hadn't been playing games with us all those years."

"She's still playing games, according to what you just told me," Peez said. "Nasty, cruel games: telling us she's going to die soon, setting us up against each other again, making us compete for a business empire that she never had any intentions of giving up!"

"Oh, she's going to give it up, all right." Dov smiled while he drank his coffee.

"When? Years from now? Decades? You told me the doctor's report pegged her for dying at ninety, if then."

"How does tomorrow suit you?" Dov asked.

"Dov! You can't mean it."

"Can't mean—? Oh, I don't mean kill her. That would be bad corporate PR. What I've got in mind is this: Since she sent us out individually to gather enough support from the E. Godz, Inc. client base for one of us to take over the company after she's gone, we combine that support and use it to take over the company right now."

"Mmm. Tempting, tempting." Peez drummed her fingertips on the powdery white tabletop. "We'll have to plan this out carefully. If she's not sick, she's more than a match for the two of us. She's been in the magic game a whole lot longer than we have, remember."

"Yeah, but she's got one big weakness: She thinks that we're still a pair of snot-nosed little kids who'd never dream of challenging Mommy. She may have more experience than us, but we've got surprise on our side."

"Surprise and power." Peez licked her lips, though it was impossible to tell whether she did so because she could almost taste their ultimate victory over Edwina or because she could actually taste more of that blasted, omnipresent confectioner's sugar. "You do know how to tap into the client reserves?"

"Ummm ... maybe?" Dov flashed a smile at his sister, one that did not belong to his professional repertoire. It was the smile he'd always worn back in their earliest days together, a helpless little puppy-dog of a smile that simply said how much he needed his big sister to look out for him when he wasn't sure he had what it took to look out for himself.

Peez smiled back. "You don't have a clue, do you?" she said without malice. "Every person or group with the ability to raise the earth-power is like a storage battery. The tapping spell is like a set of jumper cables. The only difference is you can't invoke it unless you have the implicit consent of the storage battery to divert its power to your purposes. It's an easy spell; you'll get it on the first try. And then I'll want you to teach me some of yours."