Robert Asprin - Class Dis-Mythed

"Aha," I said, "but here's the catch: you can't push any harder than he does. He'll levitate it up to here," I held out a hand, "then you top it with your magik. Don't let him push it any farther. You can't let it go lower than the original level. If he lets it drop, that's his problem, but you can't push it down. See how much control you have."

Jinetta tittered. "That ought to be easy!"

But it wasn't, as I had reason to know. With endless power flowing into them, the girls were no more subtle than Melvine. They channeled whatever was in them. What they needed to learn was how to tighten the valve. The first time Jinetta pushed, the feather ended up embedded in a flagstone.

"Oops," she said.

"See what I mean?" I said. "Freezia, Pologne, I have an exercise for the two of you to work on while Jinetta helps Bee. I want you to work on storing up energy then releasing it—slowly!— until you get used to how much you can hold normally."

Pologne clicked her tongue.

"Why, when this place is full of lines of force? This is like Grand Perv Station!"

I eyed her sternly. "Assume that at any moment they could disappear, and then what?"

"Then Bee here wouldn't be able to lift his feather. Which he can't anyhow!"

"Hold on, someone's coming," Freezia announced. We all paused to listen. I couldn't hear anything, which wasn't surprising. Pervect hearing was a dozen times keener than Klahdish.

"How far away are they?"

Pologne consulted a gold pendulum. "About a mile," she said. "You Klahds make more noise than a dragon in heat."

"Gleep!" protested my pet. Buttercup added a nicker in defense of his friend.

"Sorry," the Pervect said, holding out her hand to Gleep. "You would almost think that they could understand me."

I was unwilling to reveal Gleep's secret to anyone who hadn't saved my life at least ten times. "Well, at least he knows the word 'dragon.' Drop what you're doing, people. Put on a Klahdish disguise. Something believable," I said, halting Freezia, who had promptly transformed herself into a cow.

"Ugh!" Freezia exclaimed. "You soft-skinned are uglier than ten miles of bad road. At least that creature has an attractive pattern!"

"Fashion later," I said. "Security now."

Tolk came galloping back along the road. "A Klahd is coming this way!" he panted.

A mile might have been a long way for a Klahd to cover, but I wanted plenty of time to finish my arguments with my class before whoever was racing towards us emerged from the bushes. Tolk was having trouble focusing his disguise spell, so I transformed him into a large dog—no stretch of the imagination there—and Gleep into a goat. My pet caught a glimpse of himself in the trough and gave me a look of reproach. I shrugged. If we had been in the house I might have gotten away with making him a dog, too, but he had a tendency to forget what he was doing and eat anything that appealed to him. I could get away with explaining a goat eating a cartwheel or gnawing on an anvil. Buttercup's horn was easily erased, leaving him a robustly handsome horse, not an unusual beast to find on a Klahdish homestead.

In an instant, Bunny's red-headed beauty was swallowed up by the semblance of a toothless crone sheltered from the sun by a tattered gray cloth strung on a clothesline. The Pervects had assumed new disguises, having been coached by me and Bunny as to what represented beauty in our dimension. They appeared as three dainty lasses in the dress style worn by prosperous merchants—still in pastel shades, of course. Bee assumed Guido's hulking form. At first I was going to tell him to change back, then I realized he was thinking more clearly than I was. We had no idea whether the approaching being was hostile or not.

To diguise myself, I assumed my disgusting old man image, which was usually enough to remind casual visitors they needed to be elsewhere.

A Klahd came panting into the yard. My illusion made his red face go somewhat pale, but whatever was troubling him was enough to make him risk catching whatever disease or vermin I might be carrying. He fell almost at my feet.

"The Great Skeeve," he gasped. "Where is the Great Skeeve?"

"Who wishes to see my master?" I asked, in a creaky voice.

"He is summoned by Flink, the headman of Humulus," the man said after fetching several deep breaths. Bee came over to help the man to his feet. Tolk trotted over, took the man's wrist in his mouth shortly, then dropped it, giving me a nod. The man's pulse must have been all right. The other apprentices clustered around to listen. "I have been running for two days! There is a terrible monster destroying our village! It's attacking people, terrifying the livestock! The Great Skeeve must help us!"

He looked so distressed I felt sorry for him. Before I could open my mouth to offer my help, Bunny was beside me.

"How terrible?" she asked. "Is it really a monster, or are you exaggerating? What's your name, honey?"

"Norb," the man replied. "Time is of the essence, crone. I have to see the Great Skeeve!"

"In a moment," Bunny said silkily. "What is the threat, exactly? Are we talking about chewing furniture or tearing down buildings? The Great Skeeve doesn't deal with smalltime vermin, you know."

Norb regarded her with distaste. "Woman, we are talking about burning buildings! It has a tail with a great spike! It roars fearsomely! The monster spits lightning bolts! Well, it doesn't spit them, exactly. It sort of sh—, er, well, it emits lightning!"

She and I exchanged a glance. "Well?" she demanded.

"Over to you," I said resignedly.

Bunny took Norb's arm and led him toward her pavilion. "Tell me, good sir, what kind of town is Humulus? Was it a thriving village before the monster invaded?"

Bee whispered to me. "What is she doing?"

"Business," I said shortly. "She's negotiating a fee for my services."

"She's what?" Bee demanded. He waved his arms, making him look even more like a scarecrow caught in a windstorm. "How come we aren't heading off to Humulus right now? Why aren't you dealing with the monster first? Aren't people more important than money?"

"Yes," Tolk asked, tilting his shaggy head. "What's going on? Why the delay?"

I looked around uneasily at my class. "This is not about money per se. This part has always been tough for me, too. This is another lesson that my mentors have been trying to hammer into my head for years. You all are going to have to learn that your time and trouble are worth something. Quite a lot, in fact when you're talking about magikal ability. Lots of people will take advantage of you if you don't set a value on your services. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. 'The Great Skeeve' has a big reputation in these parts. I used to be the court magician in Possiltum, so my magik commands high fees, unless I do the work first. Long experience has taught me that it's almost impossible to get paid once you've already solved the problem. There is nothing as parsimonious as people who feel safe. If you're going to do this as a business, you've got to learn perspective. Think ahead, and remember you have to eat, too. Otherwise you end up doing everything for free, and people will waste your time because they don't have a high value that they associate with your services. The fact is, I'm not as good at negotiating as Bunny is, and I probably never will be. That's why she stopped me. I can't just offer my help for free."

The Pervects were nodding, but Bee looked mortified.

"Sir, permission to disagree, sir! I'll help anyone who ever needs me, whether I can ever do the big stuff or not! Sir!"

I shook my head. He'd learn the hard way, just as I had.

"It's your talent, Bee. I can't stop you doing what you want to do. But experience helps you prioritize. Money's one way of figuring out how important a matter is to someone else."