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

A scaly blue mass in the corner began to snore as I entered. I went to stand by its head.

“Come on, Gleep,” I said. “I know you’re only pretending to be asleep. If you’re as intelligent as Skeeve thinks, I’m sure you understand me.”

The long neck uncoiled, and the head levered up until it was eye to eye with me. “Gleep!” the dragon said brightly. I jumped back, gagging. That reptile’s breath could peel paint off a wall.

“Did you take a piece of parchment from the throne room?” I asked.

Gleep cocked his head. “Gleep?”

Massha came to nestle close to the dragon. “I know you were there,” she crooned, running a finger around Gleep’s jowls. The dragon almost purred, enjoying the chin-rub. “Did you take something you shouldn’t?”

The dragon shook his head. “Gleep!”

“Are you sure?”

“Gleep!” He nodded energetically.

Massha turned to me and shrugged. At that moment I spotted the corner of a parchment hidden under a pile of straw. I lunged for it. Gleep got in between me and it. I dodged to one side. He swung his long neck to intercept me.

“All right, lizard-breath, you asked for it. Partner’s pet or no partner.” I grabbed him around the neck just underneath his chin and held on. He writhed and struggled to get loose. I let go when Massha retrieved the paper. It was torn at one corner, where it had obviously been ripped away from a tack. Gleep tried to grab it back, but I stiff-armed him. He retired to the corner of his stall.

“It’s the instructions,” she said, scanning the page. “ ‘Choose the location you wish to site your Handy Dandy Forever After Honeymoon Cottage, then push the button.’ Then below is an incantation.” Massha’s worried eyes met mine. “We didn’t chant this! What if something terrible happens because we missed out on the verbal part of the spell? It might fall down!” She hurried out of the stable. Gleep let out a honk of alarm and scooted out after her.

“Come back here!” I said, setting off in pursuit. I was not going to let that goofy dragon upset the festivities. It was bad enough one of Massha’s wedding presents had misfired.

Gleep was quicker than both of us. To the alarm of the bridesmaids, Gleep blocked the doorway of the throne room and was whipping back and forth, preventing Massha from entering. Guido and Nunzio ran over, their right hands automatically reaching into their coats.

“Grab him,” I said.

“Be careful,” Nunzio warned. “He’s still healing. What’s upset him?”

“He doesn’t want Massha to read the spell that came with Don Bruce’s present,” I said. I stopped for a moment to think. That was how the situation appeared, now that I considered it. But that was ridiculous. “He can’t read. How could he know something like that?”

Nunzio came up to lay a gentle hand on Gleep’s neck. “Maybe he smelled a bad scent on the parchment,” he said. “Dragons have a remarkable sense of smell.”

Massha held out the paper in alarm. “Do you think it’s booby trapped?”

“I don’t know,” I said, grabbing it from her. I started to read. My eyebrows rose until I thought they’d fly off the top of my head. “I see. Good boy, Gleep!”

“Gleep!” the dragon said, relaxing. He stuck his head under my hand and fluttered hopeful eyelids at me. I scratched behind his ears.

“What is it, hot stuff?”

I snorted. “I don’t know how that dumb dragon knew, but his instincts were good. This isn’t a barn-raising spell, it’s a barn-razing spell. If you’d recited it, it would have blown up the building and everyone inside!”

Massha’s eyes went wide. “But why would Don Bruce want to do that?”

I scanned the page again. “I don’t think he did. Look, the spell is printed in a different hand than the instructions.” The swirling handwriting above was Don Bruce’s. The message below, though also in lavender ink, was written by a stranger.

“How do we find out who did it?”

“With a little subterfuge,” I said. “And a little dragon.”

The boom that shook the castle was barely audible above the noise of the crowd and the musicians. I staggered out, supporting Massha. Her dress was torn and patched with black burns, and her hair was askew. Guido threaded his way ahead of us, making sure that Skeeve was nowhere in sight. We all agreed he shouldn’t be bothered. I was pretty certain we could handle this by ourselves. He spotted Don Bruce and his two associates, boozing it up at one of the tables near the harpist. Don Bruce set down his goblet and kissed his fingers at the musician.

“Beautiful! That boy plays beautifully.” Then he turned, and spotted us. “Aahz! Massha! What has happened to you?”

“The house,” Massha said, playing her part. She let go of me and threw her meaty arms around the Fairy Godfather. “My husband.oh, I can’t say.”

“What happened?” the don demanded.

Massha sobbed into a handkerchief. “We only just got married!”

“Are you saying that my present killed your husband?” Don Bruce demanded, drawing himself up four feet into the air.

“If the Prada pump fits,” I growled, “wear it. The news will be all over the Bazaar in an hour: Don Bruce ices associates at a wedding!”

But I wasn’t watching Don Bruce. I had my eye on his two associates. Surleone’s heavy brows drew down over his stubby nose, but he looked concerned. Don deDondon couldn’t keep the glee off his weaselly face.

“I’m good with casualties,” he said, starting to rise from the bench. “I’d better go and see if I can help.” Suddenly, a blue, scaly face was nose to nose with his. Gleep hissed. “Help?”

The dragon bared his teeth and flicked his tail from side to side. It was all the proof I needed that Don deDondon had his hands on the parchment I’d had Gleep sniff, but I thrust it in front of his skinny nose.

“This your handwriting?” I asked.

“Gimme dat,” said Don Surleone. He looked over the page. “Yeah, dat’s his.”

DeDondon threw up his hands. “No! I have nothing to do with any explosion! Call off your dragon!”

I did, but Guido and Nunzio were there flanking him, hand crossbows drawn but held low against the don’s sides so they wouldn’t disturb the other wedding guests. “You can clean up again, Massha. We have a confession.”

“Confession?” Don Bruce demanded, fluttering madly, as Massha’s bruises faded and her dress and coiffure regained their gaudy glory. “What’s the deal?”

“I don’t know the whole story,” I said, sitting down and grabbing the pitcher of ale from the center of the table. I took a swig. Subterfuge was thirsty work. “But I can guess. New people in any organization tend to be ambitious. They want to get ahead right away. Either they find a niche to fill, or they move on. When you introduced these dons to Massha and Badaxe their names didn’t ring any bells with me. At first. Then you said they were new.

“The present you gave Massha was princely, but it also provided a heck of an opportunity to take you down, and at least a few of us with you. The box containing the house had a sheet of instructions attached to it. How easy would it be to add a booby-trap that Massha would innocently set off when she went to open your present? We trust you; she’d follow the instructions as they were written. Your reputation for doing business in an honorable fashion would be ruined. But your enemy didn’t take into account you have a host of intelligent beings working for you.from a number of species.”

“Gleep!” the dragon interjected. He’d withdrawn to a safe distance, with his head against Nunzio’s knee.

“Something with so easy a trigger mechanism wouldn’t need extra incantations to operate. The additional verbiage aroused our suspicions, enabling us to figure the puzzle out in time to stave off disaster.”