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

“None of your business!”

But I wasn’t going to be put off that easily.

“C’mon. I told you mine,” I wheedled. Aahz’s wishes were bound to be interesting. He had seen dozens of dimensions, and been around a lot more than I had. “You probably have some sophisticated plan about an empire with you at the top of the heap. in charge. Hundreds of people begging for your services. Wine! Women! Song!”

“Shut up!” Aahz commanded. But by now, my curiosity was an unignorable itch.

“There’s no one around here for miles,” I said, and it was the truth. “Nobody could get up here in hearing range. They’d have to build a bridge to that next peak, and it’s miles away. There’s no one here but us. I’m your best friend, right?”

“I doubt that!”

“Hey!” I exclaimed, hurt.

Aahz relented, looking around. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that, even if you did make a boneheaded move by touching that mirror. Well, since it’s just us… Yeah, I saw something. That’s why I think it’s a delusion spell. I saw things the way they used to be, me doing magik? big magik? impressing the heck out of thousands? no, millions! I got respect. I miss that.”

I was astonished. “You have respect. We respect you. And people in the Bazaar, they definitely respect you. The Great Aahz! You’re feared in a hundred dimensions. You know that.”

“It’s not like in the old days,” Aahz insisted, his gaze fixed on the distance, and I knew he wasn’t seeing the endless trees. “Time was we’d never have been stuck up here on a bare mountaintop like two cats on a refrigerator…”

I opened my mouth to ask what a refrigerator was, then decided I didn’t want to interrupt the flow. Aahz seldom opened up his private thoughts to me. If he felt like he wanted to unload, I considered it a privilege to listen.

“…I mean, it ain’t nothing showy, but time was I could have just flicked my wrist, and a bridge would’ve appeared, like that!”

He flicked his wrist.

I gawked. A suspension bridge stretched out from the peak on which we were standing all the way to the next mountain. It was made completely out of playing cards, from its high arches down the cables to the spans and pylons that disappeared down into the trees. We stared at each other and gulped.

“That wasn’t there before,” I ventured. But Aahz was no longer looking at the bridge or at me. He was staring at his finger as if it had gone off, which in a sense it had.

“After all these years,” he said softly. “It’s impossible.” He raised his head, feeling around for force lines. I did the same.

The place was full of them. I don’t mean full, I mean FULL. Running through the ground like powerful subterranean rivers, and overhead like highly charged rainbows, lines of force were everywhere. Whatever dimension we’d stepped into was chockablock with magik. Aahz threw back his head and laughed. A pretty little yellow songbird flew overhead, twittering. He pointed a finger at it. The bird, now the size of a mature dragon, emitted a basso profundo chirp. It looked surprised.

It had nothing on me. For years I had thought only my late magik teacher Garkin could have removed the spell that robbed Aahz of his abilities. I didn’t know a dimension existed where the laws of magik as I had learned them didn’t apply. It seems I was wrong.

Aahz took off running toward the bridge.

“Hey, Skeeve, watch this!” he shouted. His hands darted out. Thick, fragrant snow began to fall, melting into a perfumed mist before it touched me. Rainbows darted through the sky. Rivers of jewels sprang up, rolling between hills of gold. I tripped over one and ended up in a pool of rubies.

“Aahz, wait!” I cried, galloping after him as fast as I could. Gleep lolloped along with me, but we couldn’t catch him. As soon as Aahz’s foot hit the bridge, it began to shrink away from the mountainside, carrying him with it. He was so excited he didn’t notice. Once when I hadn’t really been listening he had told me about contract bridge. This must be what he meant. This bridge was contracting before my eyes.

“Aahz! Come back!” I called. There was nothing I could do. Gleep and I would have to jump for it. I grabbed his collar, and we leaped into space.

I was pushing with every lick of magik in my body, but we missed the end of the bridge by a hand’s length. A card peeled itself up off the rear of the span. It was a joker. The motley figure put its thumbs in its ears and stuck out its tongue at me, just before the bridge receded out of sight. I didn’t have time to be offended by its audacity, since I was too busy falling.

“Gleeeeeeeep!” my dragon wailed, as he thudded onto the steep slope beside me. “Gle ee-ee-eep!”

“Gr-ra-ab so-ome-thi-ing,” I stuttered, as we rolled helplessly down the hill. Where had all those force lines gone? I should have been able to anchor myself to the earth with a bolt of magik. We tumbled a good long way until my pet, showing the resourcefulness I knew was in him, snaked his long neck around a passing tree-stump, and his tail around my leg. We jerked to an abrupt halt. I hung upside down with my head resting on a shallow ledge that overlooked a deep ravine. We’d only just missed falling into it. As soon as I caught my breath, I crawled up the slope to praise Gleep. He shot out his long tongue and affectionately planted a line of slime across my face. I didn’t flinch as I usually did. I figured he deserved to lick me if he wanted to. He’d saved both of us.

I studied my surroundings. If there was a middle to Nowhere, I had unerringly managed to locate it. The remote scraps of blue visible through the forest roof were all that was left of the sky. Once my heart had slowed from its frantic “That’s it, we’re all going to die now” pounding to its normal, “Well, maybe not yet” pace I realized that the ledge we almost fell off was wide enough to walk on. I had no idea where it led, but sitting there wasn’t going to help me find Aahz or the jokers who had carried him off.

“You lost, friend?” a male voice asked.

I jumped up, looking around for its source. I could see nothing but underbrush around me. Out of reflex I threw a disguise spell on me and Gleep, covering my strawberry-blond hair with sleeked-back black and throwing my normally round and innocent-looking blue eyes into slanted, sinister pits. Gleep became a gigantic red dragon, flames licking out from underneath every scale.

“No! I’m just…getting my bearings.”

A clump of trees stood up and turned around. I couldn’t help but stare. On the other side of the mobile copse was the form of a man.

“Well, you sure look lost to me,” said the man, squinting at me in a friendly fashion. He was dressed in a fringed jacket and trousers, with a striped fur cap perched on his head and matching boots on his feet. His skin was as rough as bark, and his small, dark eyes peered at me out of crevices. Hair and eyebrows alike were twiglike thickets. The eyebrows climbed high on his craggy forehead. “Say, that’s pretty good illusion-making, friend! You an artist?”

“Huh?” I goggled, taken aback. How could he have spotted it so readily? “No. I’m a master magician. I am…the Great Skeeve.”

The man stuck out a huge hand and clenched my fingers. I withdrew them and counted them carefully to make sure none had broken off in his solid grip. “Pleased to meet you. Name’s Alder. I’m a backwoodsman. I live around these parts. I only ask because illusion’s a major art form around here. You’re pretty good.”

“Thanks,” I said dejectedly. An illusion was no good if it was obvious. I let it drop. “I only use it because I don’t look very impressive in person.”

Alder tutted and waved a hand. “It don’t matter what you look like. It’s only your personality anybody pays attention to. Things change around here so often.” He lifted his old face, sniffed and squinted one eye. He raised a crooked finger. “Like now, for example.”