Robert Asprin - M.Y.T.H.-Interpretations - The Worlds of Robert Asprin

Massha and Badaxe accepted congratulations, handshakes and hugs from everybody.

“Dear, I expecially loved the birds singing while you recited your vows.”

“The jugglers made me remember my wedding day.”

“Hey, what legs! What style! And you looked pretty, too, babe.”

Massha showed off the gaudy ring on her left hand, and Badaxe beamed with pleasure. Don Bruce and his enforcers were just ahead of me in line. The Fairy Godfather, dressed in a formal lilac tux that went well with his usual violet fedora, fluttered high enough to kiss Massha on the cheek.

“You take care of her,” he warned Badaxe. “Oh. I brought a little something for you.” He snapped his fingers. Two of his largest henchmen staggered toward him with a giftwrapped box the size of a young dragon. “You should enjoy it. If it doesn’t fit, tell Skeeve. He’ll let me know.” He turned to introduce the others in his retinue, a slim, sharp-eyed man with bushy black eyebrows, and a stocky, short man with no neck and short, wide hands suitable for making a point without using a weapon. “These are new associates of mine, Don Don deDondon and Don Surleone.”

“A pleasure,” Don Don said, bowing over Massha’s hand. Don Surleone’s huge hands folded around Badaxe’s. I noticed the general’s face contort at the pressure. The burly man must be incredibly strong.

The dancing and singing continued long into the night. I kept an eye on things to make sure nobody got out of line. I maintained eye contact with Big Julie, who was across the courtyard from me. He had the same idea, especially as so many people from the Bazaar kept turning up to give the happy couple their good wishes. So long as they stuck to that intention, I didn’t mind.

“Hey, short, green and scaly, how about cutting a rug?” The cuddly presence that draped itself across my chest could only be Tananda. The pink dress was cut low enough on her shapely decolletage to cause traffic jams. I’d seen a few already.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m watching,” I said.

“Who’d dare to cause trouble here and now?” she asked, but she was a professional. She understood my concerns. Enough of our old clientele and our present neighbors were around to spread the word across the Bazaar if something blew up and we couldn’t handle it. We’d be going back there in a day or two. Fresh rumors would make it tougher than it had to be. “I’ll get Chumley to watch things, too.”

Noticing our tete-a-tete Guido and Nunzio stopped by for a chat, and got my take on the situation. Skeeve was hanging out by himself. None of us wanted to bother him. He’d had enough stresses the last couple of weeks, between the near-fatal accident to Gleep and acting as best man. Keeping an eye on his back was only what one partner would do for another. He needed some time to himself.

“Aahz, can I talk to you?”

I turned. The bride was there in neon and white. Her face looked worried in the torchlight. “Massha! How come you and Hugh aren’t dancing?”

“I’ve got a little problem,” she said, edging close and putting her hand through my arm. Any time someone looked at us she beamed at them, but not convincingly. “We started opening the wedding presents, and one of them kind of blew up on us.”

“What?” I bellowed. The whole crowd turned to look. I grabbed Massha and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Congratulations! You’ll make a great court magician.” Skeeve had let me know about Queen Hemlock’s decision. I concurred that it was the best solution for both of them. That way she and Badaxe would have equal status at court. I knew I was trumping Hemlock’s own announcement, but it was the most legitimate way I could think of to cover my outburst.

“Thanks, Aahz,” Massha said, beaming from the teeth out. The crowd lost interest and went back to their drinks and conversation. She looked like she might burst into tears.

“Which gift?” I murmured.

“Don Bruce’s.”

My eyes must have started glowing, because she grabbed my arm. “Hold on, hot stuff. It’s not his fault. If anything, it’s ours. When we peeled off the paper there was this big box with a red button on one side. No instructions. My detector,” she showed me the gaudy bracelet studded with orange stones on one arm, “didn’t show any harmful magik inside, so we went ahead and pushed the button.”

I sighed. “What happened? What was it?”

She giggled, torn between worry and amusement. “A house. A cottage, really. It’s lovely. The carpets are deep enough to hide your feet, the walls are draped with silk hangings embroidered with all of Hugh’s victories, and the windows are sixteen colors of leaded glass. The trouble is it’s in the middle of the throne room.”

It was. An otherwise good-looking, split-level cottage with a two-stall stable and a white picket fence had appeared practically on the steps of Queen Hemlock’s throne. The room had been designated as the repository for wedding gifts, since security there was always tight, and no one was likely to wander in without an invitation, no matter how curious they were about Massha’s china pattern. Tananda and Chumley were on guard in the room. Tanda had taken off her elaborate headpiece. Chumley, a bow tie now undone under his furry chin, sat with his back against the doorpost. Nunzio and Guido, dapper yet businesslike in tuxedos, had arrived. They’d donned their fedoras in a sign to anyone who knew the trade that they were working. Massha’s bridesmaids were clustered around a table full of presents. One of them was making a bouquet out of the ribbons. Another had a big bag full of discarded wrappings. Another had a quill and a bottle of ink, writing down who had given what.

“Has anyone told Skeeve yet?” I asked, taking the members of M.Y.T.H., Inc. to one side.

“No,” said Massha.

“Don’t,” I said flatly.

“The Boss has a right to know,” Guido said automatically, then looked guilty. “You got it. Mum.”

“Have you tried to get it back in the box?”

“Of course,” Massha said. “But the button has disappeared. So has the box.”

I peered at the house. Fairytale honeymoon cottages didn’t come cheap. This couldn’t be construed as an insult from Don Bruce. Besides as far as I knew, based upon updates from Tanda and Bunny, that we were in good books with the Fairy Godfather. He was a careful man. He would have furnished instructions. So where were they?

“Has anyone else been in here that shouldn’t have been?” I asked.

“No one,” the bridesmaid with the quill said. Her name was Fulsa. She had round hazel eyes in a round, pink face. “A few people peeked in. Oh! There was a blue dragon in here for a while. I think he belongs to the Court Magician.”

Gleep? I glanced at Massha.

“He just came in to sniff around the presents,” she explained. “I think he felt left out, but I didn’t really think he was well enough to be in the ceremony.” She studied my face. “Any reason I should be worried about him?”

“I don’t know,” I said. But the two of us went out to the stable to make sure.

I’d never been thrilled that Skeeve had acquired a baby dragon. They live for hundreds of years, so their infancy and youth is correspondingly long. Gleep was still considered to be a very young dragon. He had a playful streak that sometimes wreaked havoc on our habitations. Skeeve believed he was a lot smarter than I did. But other times, I was reconciled to his presence, even grateful. He was still recovering from having stopped an arrow. The foot-wide trail through the straw on the way to his stall showed that something long and heavy had passed through there at least once.