ÿþI

Chapter One:

"Is it just me, or does it seem to you /
get more than my share of troubles?"

JOB

"... AND so, TO recap, the situation is this ..."

I ticked the points off on my fingers, giving my
audience a visual image to reinforce my words.

"First, Queen Hemlock wants me to be her
consort. Second, she's given me a month to think
it over before I reach my decision. Third ..."

I tapped the appropriate finger for emphasis.

"If I decide not to marry her, she says she'll
abdicate, naming me her successor and sticking
me with the whole mess. Got that?"

Despite my concern over my predicament, I
was nonetheless proud of my ability to address
the problem head on, summarizing and analyzing
it as I sought a solution. There was a time in the
not too distant past when I simply would have
lapsed into blind panic. If nothing else, my adven-
tures over the years had done wonders for my

2	Robert Asprin

confidence in my abilities to handle nearly any
crisis.

"Gleep!" my audience responded.

Okay ... so I wasn't all that confident.

While I knew I could muddle through most
crises, the one situation I dreaded the most was
making a fool of myself in front of my friends and
colleagues. While they had always been unswerv-
ing in their loyalty and willingness to bail me out
of whatever mess I blundered into, that didn't
mean I was particularly eager to tax our friend-
ships yet another time, even if it was just for
advice. At the very least, I figured that when I did
approach them, I should be as level-headed and
mature about it as possible, rather than babbling
hysterically about my woes. Consequently, I de-
cided to rehearse my appeal in front of the one
member of our crew I felt truly comfortable
with . . . my pet dragon.

I've always maintained that Gleep is quite
bright, despite the one-word vocabulary that gave
him his name. According to my partner and
mentor, Aahz, my pet's limited vocal range was
merely a sign of his immaturity, and it would
expand as he edged toward adulthood. Of course,
realizing dragons live several centuries, the odds
of my ever having a two-way conversation with
Gleep were slim. At times like this, however, I
actually appreciated having someone to talk to
who could only listen . . . without helpful asides
regarding my inability to walk across the street
without landing myself and the crew in some
kind of trouble.

"The trouble is," I continued, "what with all

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE	3

the problems and disasters I've had to cope with
over the years, not to mention trying to be presi-
dent of M.Y.T.H. Inc., I haven't had much time for
a love life, like, none at all ... and I sure haven't
given any thought to getting married] I mean, I
haven't ever really reached a decision on whether
or not I want to get married at all, much less
when or to who."

Gleep cocked his head to one side, to all appear-
ances hanging on my every word.

"Of course, I do know I'm not wild about the
alternative. I had a chance to play king once . . .
and that was twice too often, thank you. It was
bad enough when I was just being a stand-in for
Roderick, but the idea of trying to run the king-
dom by myself, as myself, and forever, not just for
a few days, well, that's flat out terrifying. The
question is, is it more or less terrifying than the
idea of being married to Queen Hemlock?"

My pet responded to my dilemma by vigorously
chewing at an itch on his foot.

"Thanks a lot, Gleep old boy," I said, smiling
wryly despite my ill humor. While I obviously
hadn't really expected any glowing words of ad-
vice from my dragon, I had at least thought my
problems were serious enough to hold his atten-
tion. "I might as well be talking to Aahz. At least
he looks at me while he's chewing me out."

Still smiling, I picked up the goblet of wine I
had brought with me for moral support and started
to take a sip.

"Oh, Aahz isn't so bad."

For a startled moment, I thought Gleep had
answered me. Then I realized the voice had come

4	Robert Asprin

from behind me, not from my pet. A quick glance
over my shoulder confirmed my worst fears. My
partner, green scales, pointed teeth and all, was
leaning against the wall not ten feet from where I
stood, and had apparently been listening to my
whole oration.

"Hi, Aahz," I said, covering my embarrassment
with a forced smile. "I didn't hear you come in.
Sorry about that last comment, but I've been a
little ..."

"Don't worry about it, Skeeve," he interrupted
with a wave of dismissal. "If that's the worst
you've had to say about me over the years, I figure
we've been doing pretty well. I do lean on you
kinda hard from time to time. I guess that's gotten
to be my way of dealing with stress."

Aahz seemed calm enough ... in fact, he
seemed to be suspiciously calm. While I wasn't
wild about his shouting at me, at least it was
consistent. This new display of reasonability was
making me uneasy . . . rather like suddenly no-
ticing the sun just rose in the west.

"So . . . what are you doing here, partner?" I
said, trying to sound casual.

"I was looking for you. It occurred to me that
you might need a sympathetic ear while you
figured out what to do next."

Again, a small warning gong went off in the
back of my mind. Of all the phrases that might
occur to me to describe Aahz's interaction with
me in the past, "a sympathetic ear" wasn't one of
them.

"How did you know where I was?"

I was dodging the issue, but genuinely curious

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE	5

as to how Aahz found me. I had taken great pains
to slip down to the Royal Stables unnoticed.

"It wasn't hard," Aahz said, flashing a grin as he
jerked his thumb at the door. "You've got quite a
crowd hanging around outside."

"I do?"

"Sure. Pookie may be a bit mouthy for my
taste, but she knows her stuff as a bodyguard. I
think she's been tailing you from the time you
left your room."

Pookie was the new bodyguard I had acquired
during my recent trip to Perv . . . before I knew
she was Aahz's cousin.

"That's funny," I scowled. "I never saw her."

"Hey, I said she was good," my partner winked.
"Just because she respects your privacy and stays
out of sight doesn't mean she's going to let you
wander around unescorted. Anyway, I guess Guido
spotted her and decided to tag along . . . he's
been following her around like a puppy ever since
they met . . . and, of course, that meant Nunzio
had to come, too, and . . . Well, the end result is
you've got all three of your bodyguards posted
outside the door to see to it that you aren't
disturbed."

Terrific. I start out looking for a little privacy
and end up leading a parade.

"So, what do you think, Aahz?" I asked.

I knew I was going to get his opinion sooner or
later, and figured I might as well ask outright and
get it over with.

"About what?"

"About my problem," I clarified.

"What problem?"

6	Robert Asprin

"Sorry. I thought you had been listening when I
explained it to Gleep. I'm talking about the whole
situation with Queen Hemlock."

"I know," my partner said. "And I repeat, what
problem?"

"What problem!" I was starting to lose it a
little, which is not an unusual result of talking to
Aahz. "Don't you think . . ."

"Hold on a second, partner," Aahz said, holding
up his hand. "Do you remember the situation
when we first met?"

"Sure."

"Let me refresh you memory, anyway. Your old
mentor, Garkin, had just been killed, and there
was every chance you were next on the hit list.
Right?"

"Right. But . . ."

"Now that was a problem," He'continued as if
I hadn't spoken. "Just like it was a problem when
you had to stop Big Julie's army with a handful of
misfits . . . realizing that, if you were success-
ful, Grimble was threatening to have you killed or
worse when you returned to the palace."

"I remember."

"And when you decided to try to clear me of
that murder rap over on Limbo, a dimension
which just happens to be filled with vampires and
werewolves, I'd say that was a problem, too."

"I don't see what . . ."

"Now, in direct contrast, let's examine the
current situation. As I understand it, you're in
danger of getting married to the Queen, which, I
believe, includes having free run of the kingdom's
treasury. The other option is that you decide not

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE	7

to marry her, whereupon she abdicates to you . . .
leaving you again with a free hand on the treasury,
only without the Queen." He showed me his im-
pressive array of teeth. "I repeat, what problem?"

Not for the first time, it occurred to me that my
partner had a tendency to appraise the pluses and
minuses of any situation by the simple technique
of reducing everything to monetary terms and
scrutinizing the bottom line.

"The problem is," I said tersely, "that in order
to get that access to the treasury, I have to get
married or become king. Frankly, I'm not sure I'm
wild about either option."

"Compared to what you've been through in
the past to scrape together a few coins, it's not
bad," Aahz shrugged. "Face it, Skeeve. Making a
bundle usually involves something unpleasant.
Nobody . . . and I mean nobody ... is going to
fork over hard cash for your having a good time."

Of course, those "few coins" we had scraped
together over the past years added up to enough to
make even a Pervish banker sit up and take
notice, but I knew the futility of trying to con-
vince Aahz that there was ever such a thing as
enough money.

"Maybe I could just write about having dubious
adventures instead of actually doing anything," I
muttered. "That always sounded to me like a
pretty cushy job to cash in on the good life."

"You think so? Well, let me educate you to the
harsh realities of the universe, partner. It's one
thing to practice a skill or a hobby when you feel
like it, but whether it's writing, singing, or play-

8

Robert Asprin

ing baseball, when you've got to do something
whether you're up for it or not, it's work\"

I could see this conversation was going no-
where. Aahz simply wasn't going to see my point
of view, so I decided to play dirty. I switched to his
point of view.

"Maybe I'd be more enthusiastic," I said, care-
fully, "if the kingdom's finances weren't at rock
bottom. Doing something unpleasant to acquire a
stack of debts doesn't strike me as all that great a
deal."

Okay. It was hitting below the belt. But that
just happens to be where Pervects such as Aahz
are the most sensitive . . . which is to say where
they keep their wallets.

"You've got a point there," rny partner said
thoughtfully, wavering for the first time in the
conversation. "Still, you managed to finagle a
whole month before you have to make a decision.
I figure in that time we shouM be able to get a
pretty good fix on what the real financial situa-
tion around here is ... end if it can be turned
around."

"There's just one problerr with i:hat," I pointed
out. "I know even less about money than I know
about magik."

"Just off hand, I'd say you were doing pretty
well in both departments."

I caught the tdge in my partner's voice, and
realized that he was on the brink of taking my
comment personally . . which is not surprising
as he was the one who taught me nearly every-
thing I know about magik and money.

"Oh, I'm okay when it conies to personal fi-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE	9

nances and contract negotiations . . . more than
okay, in fact . . . and I have you to thank for
that." I said hastily. "What we're looking at now,
though, is high finance ... as in trying to man-
age the funds for a whole kingdom! I don't think
that was covered in my lessons, or if it was, it
went over my head."

"Okay. That's a valid concern," Aahz conceded.
"Still, it's probably the same thing you've been
doing for M.Y.T.H. Inc., but on a larger scale."

"That's fine, except Bunny's been doing most of
the heavy financial work for M.Y.T.H. Inc.," I
grimaced. "I only wish she were here now."

"She is," Aahz exclaimed, clicking his fingers.
"That's the other reason I was looking for you."

"Really? Where is she?"

"Waiting in your room. I wasn't sure what kind
of sleeping arrangements you wanted set up."

One of the changes from my previous stay at
the palace was that instead of sharing a room with
Aahz, I had a room of my own. It's a tribute to
how worried I was, however, that the implica-
tions of what he said went right over my head.

"Same as always," I said. "See if we can find a
room for her that's at least in the same wing of the
palace as ours, though."

"If you say so," Aahz shrugged. "Anyway, we'd
better get going. She seemed real anxious to see
you."

I only listened to this last with half an ear, as
something else had momentarily caught my at-
tention.

I had turned away from Aahz to give Gleep one
last pat before we left, and for the barest fraction

10

Robert Asprin

of a second saw something I had never noticed
before. He was listening to us!

Now, as I noted earlier, I've always maintained
that Gleep was bright, but as I turned, I had a
fleeting impression of intelligence in his expres-
sion. To clarify, there is a difference between
"bright" and "intelligent." "Bright," as I'd always
applied it to my pet, means that he is alert and
quick to learn. "Intelligent," on the other hand,
goes beyond "monkey see, monkey do" tricks, all
the way to "independent thought."

Gleep's expression as I turned was one of
thoughtful concentration, if not calculation. Then
he saw me looking at him and the look disap-
peared, to be replaced with his more familiar
expression of eager friendliness.

For some reason, this gave me a turn. Perhaps
it was because I found myself remembering re-
ports from the team about their efforts to disrupt
the kingdom in my absence. Specifically, I was
recalling the claim that Gleep had nearly killed
Tananda . . . something I had dismissed at the
time as being an accident that was being blown
out of proportion in their effort to impress me
with the difficulties of their assignment. Now,
however, as I stared at my pet, I began to wonder
if I should have paid closer attention to what they
were saying. Then again, maybe it had just been
the light playing tricks on me. Gleep certainly
looked innocent enough now.

"Com'on, partner," Aahz repeated testily. "You
can play with your dragon some other time. I still
think we should try to sell that stupid beast off
before he eats his way through our bankroll. He

SWEET MYTH-TCRY OF LIFE

11

really doesn't add anything to our operation . . .
except food bills."

Because I was already watching, I caught it this
time. For the briefest moment Gleep's eyes nar-
rowed as he glanced at Aahz, and an almost
unnoticeable trickle of smoke escaped from one
nostril. Then he went back to looking dopey and
innocent.

"Gleep's a friend of mine now, Aahz," I said
carefully, not taking my eyes off my pet. "fust
like you and the rest of the crew are. I wouldn't
want to lose any of you."

My dragon seemed to take no notice of my
words, craning his neck to look around the stable.
Now, however, it seemed to me his innocence
was exaggerated . . . that he was deliberately
avoiding looking me in the eye.

"If you say so," Aahz shrugged, heading for the
door. "In the meantime, let's go see Bunny before
she explodes."

I hesitated a moment longer, then followed him
out of the stables.

Chapter Two:

"It's good to see you, too."
H. LJVINGSTON, M.D.

As AAHZ HAD predicted, my three bodyguards were
waiting for me outside the stables. They seemed
to be arguing about something, but broke off their
discussion and started looking vigilant as soon as
I appeared.

Now, you may think it would be kind of fun to
have your own bodyguards. If so, you've never
actually had one.

What it really means is that you give up any
notion that your life is your own. Privacy be-
comes a vague memory you have to work at
recalling, as "sharing" becomes the norm . . .
starting with the food on your plate and ending
with going to the John. ("Geez, Boss! You know
how many guys got whacked because someone
was hiding in the can? Just pretend we ain't
here.") Then, too, there's the constant, disquiet-

13

14

Robert Asprin

ing reminder that, however swell a fellow you
may think you are, there are people out there
waiting for a chance to bring your career to a
premature conclusion. I had to keep telling my-
self that this latter point didn't apply to me, that
Don Bruce had insisted on assigning me Guido
and Nunzio more as status symbols than any-
thing else. I had hired Pookie on my own, though,
after getting jumped during my recent trip to
Perv, so I couldn't entirely discount the fact that
bodyguards were occasionally necessary and not
just an inconvenient decoration.

"Got a minute, Skeeve?" Pookie said, stepping
forward.

"Well, I was on my way to say hello to
Bunny ..."

"Fine. We can talk as we walk."

She fell in step beside me, and Aahz graciously
fell back to walk with my other two bodyguards.

"What it is," Pookie said, without preamble,
"is I'm thinking of cashing in and heading back to
Perv."

"Really? Why."

She gave a small shrug.

"I can't see as how I'm really needed," she said.
"When I suggested I tag along, we thought you
were coming back to a small war. The way I see it
now, it seems like the crew you've already got can
handle things."

As she spoke, I snuck a glance back at Guido.
He was trudging along, his posture notably more
hangdog than usual. It was clear both that he was
infatuated with Pookie, and that he wasn't wild
about the idea of her moving on.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

15

"Umm . . . Actually, I'd prefer it if you stuck
around for a while, Pookie," I said. "At least, until
I've made up my mind what to do about this
situation with Queen Hemlock. She's been known
to be a bit nasty when things don't go her way."

"Suit yourself," Pookie said, giving another
shrug. "I just wanted to give you an easy out if
you were looking to trim the budget."

I gave a smile at that.

"Just because we're going to be working on the
kingdom's finances doesn't mean there's anything
wrong with our treasury. You should know your
cousin well enough to have faith in his money
managing."

"I know Aahz, all right," she "said, shooting a
dark look at that individual, "enough to know
that before he'd part with money unnecessarily,
he'd cut off his arm ... or, more likely, some-
one else's."

"He's mellowed a bit over the last few years," I
smiled, "but I know what you mean. If it makes
you feel any better, though, I hired you, so I figure
you're reporting directly to me and not to him."

Pookie cocked an eyebrow at me.

"If that wasn't the case," she said, "I wouldn't
have come along in the first place."

I could have let it go, but my curiosity was
aroused.

"What's the problem between you two, any-
way? More specifically, what's your problem with
Aahz? He has nothing but the highest praise for
you and your work."

Pookie's features hardened, and she broke eye
contact to stare straight ahead.

16

Robert Asprin

"That's between him and me," she said stonily.

Her attitude puzzled me, but I knew better than
to pursue the subject further.

"Oh. Well . . . anyway, I'd like you to stick
around if that's okay."

"No problem from my end," she said. "Just one
thing ... to ease my mind. Could we adjust my
pay scale? The prices you've been paying are my
premium rates for short term work. For long term
employment, I can give you a discount."

"How much?" I said quickly. As I noted before,
Aahz had taught me most of what I know about
money, and I had picked up some of his reflexes
along the way.

"Why don't we knock it down to the same rate
as you're paying those two/' she said, jerking a
thumb at Guido and Nunzio. "If nothing else, it
might avoid some hard feelings between us pro-
fessionally."

"Umm . . . fine."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that Guido and
Nunzio were actually earning more than her
premium rates. Realizing she was not only from
the same dimension, but the same family as
Aahz, I wasn't sure how she'd take the news.
With everything else on my mind, I decided to
sort it out at a later date . . . like, payday.

"Well, that takes care of me," Pookie said.
"Any general orders for us?"

"Yes. Tell Nunzio I'd like to have a word with
him."

One thing about living in a palace is that it
takes a long time to walk from anywhere to
anywhere, giving us lots of time to have confer-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

17

ences on the way to other conferences. Hey, I
didn't say that it was a nice thing about living in
a palace . . . just a thing.

"So what's the word, Boss?" Nunzio said, fall-
ing in step at my side.

"Is she stayin' or goin'?"

"What? Oh. Staying, I guess."

"Whew! That's a relief!" he said, rolling his
eyes briefly. "I'll tell you, I don't think Guido
would be livable if she left right now . . . know
what I mean?"

"Uh huh," I said, glancing back at his cousin . . .
who, judging by the grin on his face, had already
heard the news. "He seems quite taken with her."

"You don't know the half of it," Nunzio gri-
maced. "So, what did you want to talk to me
about?"

"Well, you know how you've been saying that
Gleep has been acting strange lately?"

"Yeah. So?" he said, his squeaky voice taking
on a cautious note.

"I want you to try to spend more time with
him. Talk to him . . . maybe take him out for
some exercise."

"Me, Boss?"

"Sure. You get along with him better than
anyone . . . except, maybe, me . . . and I'm go-
ing to be tied up with the kingdom's finances for
a while. If there's anything wrong with Gleep, I
want to find out about it before anyone else gets
hurt."

"If you say so."

I couldn't help but notice an extreme lack of
enthusiasm in his voice.

18

Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

19

"Yes. I say so/' I repeated firmly. "It's impor-
tant to me, Nunzio, and I can't think of anyone I'd
trust more to check things out for me."

"Okay, Boss," he said, thawing a little. "I'll get
right on it."

I wanted to give him a bit more encouragement,
but just then we arrived at the door to my quarters.

"I'll wait out here, Boss, and make sure nobody
else comes in for a while," Nunzio said with a
faint smile as he stepped back.

This surprised me a little, as the crew usually
followed me into my room without missing a step
or a syllable of conversation. Then I noticed that
the others of our group had also halted short of
the door and were watching me with a smile.

I couldn't figure what was going on. I mean, so
Bunny was waiting inside. So what? It was just
Bunny.

Nevertheless I took my cue, nodding at them
vaguely as I opened the door.

"SKEEVE!!"

I barely turned around from shutting the door
when Bunny charged across the room, slamming
into me with a huge hug that took my breath
away . . . literally.

"I was so worried about you!" she said, her
voice muffled by my chest.

"Ahh . . . ack!"

That last comment was mine. Actually, it wasn't
so much a comment as a noise I made while
trying to force some air into my lungs. This
proved easier said than done . . . and it wasn't
all that easy to say!

"Why didn't you come by the office on your
way back from Perv?" Bunny demanded, squeez-
ing even harder and shaking me slightly. "I was
going out of my mind, thinking about you all
alone in that terrible dimension ..."

By ignoring what she was saying and focusing
my entire consciousness on moving, I managed to
slowly force one hand . . . then an arm . . .
inside her embrace. Summoning my fast fading
strength, I levered my arm sideways, breaking her
grip and allowing myself a desperately needed
rush of air.

Okay. So it wasn't particularly affectionate, or
even polite. It's just that I've picked up some
annoying, selfish habits over the years . . . like
breathing.

"What's the matter, Skeeve?" Bunny said in a
concerned voice, peering at me closely. "Are you
all right?"

"UUUUH hah ... UUUUH hah . . . ," I ex-
plained, realizing for the first time how sweet
plain air could taste.

"I knew it!" she snarled. "Tananda kept saying
you were all right . . . every time I asked she
kept saying the same thing . . . that you were all
right. The next time I see that little . . ."

"I'm . . . fine . . . Really, Bunny. I'm ... fine."

Still trying to get my lungs working on their
own, I reached out a tentative finger and prodded
her biceps.

"That was . . . quite a'Hello,'"I said. "I never
realized . . . you were so ... strong."

"Oh, that," she shrugged. "I've been working

20

Robert Asprin

out a little while you were gone . . . like every
night. Not much else to do evenings. It's an easier
way to stay in shape than dieting."
"Working out?"

My breathing was almost back to normal, but
my head still felt a little woozy.
"Sure. You know, pumping iron?"
I had never realized that simple ironing could
build up a woman's arms that much. I made a
mental note to start sending our laundry out.

"I'm sorry I didn't think to check in with you,"
I said, returning to the original subject. "It's just
that I assumed you were okay there at the office,
and was in a hurry to see if the crew was okay."
"Oh, I know. It's just that . . ."
Suddenly   she   was   hugging   me   again . . .
gentler, this time.

"Don't be mad at me, Skeeve," she said softly
from the depths of my chest. "I just get so worried
about you sometimes."

I was surprised to realize she was trembling. I
mean, it just wasn't that cold here in my room.
Especially not huddled together the way we were,
"I'm not mad at you, Bunny," I said. "And there
was nothing to worry about . . . really. Every-
thing went fine on Perv."

"I heard that you nearly got killed in a fight,"
she countered, tightening her grip slightly. "And
wasn't there some kind of trouble with the cops?"
That annoyed me a little. The only way she
could have found out about the trouble I ran into
on Perv would be from Tananda . . . except I
hadn't told Tananda anything about it before she
headed back to the Bazaar to relieve Bunny. That

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

21

meant that either Aahz or Pookie was telling
people about my escapades . . . and, to say the
least, I wasn't wild about that.

"Where did you hear that?" I said casually.

"It's all over the Bazaar," Bunny explained,
burrowing further into my chest. "Tananda said
you were fine, but I had to see for myself after
everything I heard."

Com'on, Bunny," I said soothingly, mentally
apologizing to Aahz and Pookie. "You know how
everything gets exaggerated at the Bazaar. You can
see I'm fine."

She started to say something, then turned her
head as sounds of an argument erupted through
the closed door.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Guido and Nunzio
said they were going to keep everybody out for a
while. Maybe someone ..."

The door burst open, and Queen Hemlock stood
framed in the entryway. Behind her my bodyguards
stood, and as they caught my eye gave exaggerated
shrugs. Apparently royalty was harder to stop than
your average assassin ... a thought that did little
to cheer me realizing some of the rumors surround-
ing the current matriarch of Possiltum.

"There you are, Skeevie," the Queen exclaimed
striding into my room. "I was looking all over for
you when I saw those thugs of yours loitering
about outside and . . . Who's this?"

"Your Majesty, this is Bunny. Bunny, this is
Queen Hemlock."

"Your Majesty," Bunny said, sinking into a deep
bow.

22

Robert Asprin

It occurred to me that as worldly as she was in
some ways, Bunny had never met a member of
royalty before, and seemed to be quite awed by
the experience.

Queen Hemlock, on the other hand, was not at
all overawed by meeting another commoner.

"Why Skeeve! She's lovely!" she said, cupping
Bunny's chin in her hand and raising her head to
view her face. "I was starting to wonder a bit
about you, what with that monstrous apprentice
of yours, not to mention that lizard thing you
brought back with you from wherever, but this . . .
It's nice to know you can find a yummy morsel
when you set your mind to it."

"Bunny's my administrative assistant/' I said, a
bit stiffly.

"Why of course!" the Queen smiled, giving me
a broad wink. "Just like my young men are
bodyguards ... on the kingdom budget, any-
way."

"Please, Your Majesty, don't misunderstand,"
Bunny said. "Skeeve and I are really just ..."

"There there, my dear," Hemlock interrupted,
taking Bunny by the hands and drawing her to her
feet. "There's no need to worry about me being
jealous. I wouldn't dream of interfering in Skeeve's
personal life before or after we're married, any
more than I'd expect him to interfere in mine. As
long as he does the heir thing to keep the rabble
happy, it doesn't really matter to me what he does
with the rest of his time."

I really didn't like the way this conversation
was going, and hastened to change the subject.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

23

"You said you were looking for me, Your Maj-
esty?"

"Oh yes," the Queen said, releasing her hold on
Bunny's hands. "I wanted to tell you that Grimble
was waiting to see you at your earliest conve-
nience. I told him that you'd be giving him a hand
straightening out the kingdom's finances, and
he's ready to give you whatever information or
assistance you need.

Somehow, that didn't sound like the J. R. Grim-
ble I knew, but I let it slide for the moment.

"Very well. We'll be along presently."

"Of course." The Queen smiled, winking at me
again. "Well, I'll just be running along then."

As she reached the door, she paused to sweep
Bunny once more with a lingering gaze. "Charm-
ing," she said. "You really are to be congratulated,
Skeeve."

There was an uncomfortable silence after the
Queen left. Finally, I cleared my throat.

"I'm sorry about that, Bunny. I guess she just
assumed ..."

"That's the woman you're supposed to marry?"
Bunny said as if I hadn't spoken.

"Well, it's what she wants, but I'm still think-
ing it over."

"And if somebody kills her, you'd feel you had
to take over running the kingdom?"

"Uh . . . well, yes."

There was something in Bunny's voice I didn't
like. I also found myself remembering that while
she had never met royalty before, her uncle was
none other than Don Bruce, the Mob's Fairy

24

Robert Asprin

Godfather, and that she was used to an entirely
different brand of power politics.

"I see/' Bunny said thoughtfully, then she broke
into her usual smile. "Well, I guess we'd better go
and see Grimble and find out what kind of a mess
we're really in."

"Okay. Sure," I said, glad that the crisis had
passed ... if only for the moment.

"Just one question, Skeeve."

"Yes, Bunny?"

"How do you feel about 'the heir thing' as her
majesty so graciously put it?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess I don't
mind."

"You don't?"

"Not really. I just don't understand what having
a haircut has to do with being a royal consort."

Chapter Three:

"A good juggler can always find work."

L. PACCIOLJ*

J. R. GRIMBLE, CHANCELLOR of the Exchequer for the
kingdom of Possiltum, had changed little since I
first met him. A little more paunch around the
waist, perhaps, though his slender body could
stand the extra weight and then some, and his
hairline had definitely progressed from the "re-
ceding" to the "receded" category, but aside from
that the years had left him virtually unmarked.
Upon reflection, I decided it was his eyes that were
so distinctive as to render his other features incon-
sequential. They were small and dark, and glittered
with the fervent light of a greedy rodent ... or
of someone who spent far too many hours pouring
over the tiny scribbled figures which noted the
movement of other peoples' money.

['I'll give you this one . . . Luca Paccioli   inventor of double-entry
accounting, "Father of Bookkeeping" R.L.A.|

25

26

Robert Asprin

"Lord Skeeve!" he exclaimed, seizing my hand
and pumping it enthusiastically. "So good to have
you back. And Aahz! Couldn't stay away, eh?" He
gave a playful wink at my partner. "Just kidding.
Glad to see you again, too."

"Have you been drinking, Grimble?" Aahz said
bluntly.

In all honestly, I had been wondering the same
thing myself, but had been at a loss as to how to
ask the question diplomatically. Fortunately, my
partner's characteristic tactlessness came to my
rescue.

"Drinking?" the Chancellor blinked. "Why, no.
Why do you ask?"

"You seem a lot more cheerful than normal, is
all. As a matter of fact, I don't recall your ever
being happy to see either of us before."

"Now now, let's let bygones be bygones, shall
we? Though I'll admit we've had our differences
in the past, we're going to be working together
now . . . and frankly, gentlemen, I can't think of
anyone I'd rather have in my corner during our
current financial crisis. I never felt at liberty to
admit it before, but I've always secretly admired
your skills when it came to manipulating mon-
ies."

"Uh . . . thanks, Grimble," I said, still unsure
of exactly how to take his new attitude.

"And who do we have here?"

He turned his attention to Bunny, devouring
her with his eyes like a toad edging up on a moth.

I suddenly recalled that Aahz and I had first
become embroiled in the workings of Possiltum
after Grimble had picked Tananda up in a singles

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LIFE

27

bar. It also occurred to me that I didn't like
Grimble much.

"This is Bunny," I said. "She's my administra-
tive assistant."

"Of course," Grimble shot me a sidelong, rep-
tilian glance, then went back to leering at Bunny.
"You always did have exquisite taste in ladies,
Skeeve."

Still annoyed at Bunny's treatment by Queen
Hemlock, I wasn't about to let the Chancellor get
away with this.

"Grimble," I said, letting my voice take on a bit
of an edge. "Watch my lips. I said she's my
administrative assistant. Got it?"

"Yes. I ... Quite."

The Chancellor seemed to pull in on himself a
bit as he licked his lips nervously, but he rallied
back gamely.

"Very well. Let me show you our expanded
operation."

While Grimble might have been essentially
unchanged, physically or morally, his facilities
were another matter entirely. He had formerly
worked alone in a tiny, cramped cubicle filled
past capacity with stacks and piles of paper. The
paper was still there, but that's about all that
remained the same. Instead of the cubicle, it
seemed he was now working out of a spacious,
though still windowless, room ... or, at least, a
room that would have been spacious if he had it
to himself.

Instead, however, there were over a dozen indi-
viduals crammed into the space, apparently pre-
occupied with their work, which seemed to entail

28

Robert Asprin

nothing more than generating additional stacks of
paper, all covered by columns and rows of num-
bers. They didn't look up as we came in, and
Grimble made no effort to halt their work or
make introductions, but I noticed that they all
had the same fevered glint to their eyes that I had
originally assumed to be unique to Grimble.

"It seems that the current financial crisis hasn't
caused many cutbacks in your operation," Aahz
said dryly.

"Of course not/' Grimble replied easily. "That's
only to be expected."

"How's that?" I said.

"Well, Lord Skeeve," the Chancellor smiled,
"you'll find that accountants are pretty much like
vultures ... we thrive when things are worse
for other people. You see, when a kingdom or
company is doing well, no one wants to be both-
ered with budgets, much less cost savings. As
long as there's money in the coffers, they're
happy. On the other hand, when the operation is
on the skids, such as is currently the case with
Possiltum, then everyone wants answers ... or
miracles . . . and it's up to us irritating bean-
counters to provide them. More analysis means
more man-hours, which in turn means a larger
staff and expanded facilities."

"Charming/' Aahz growled, but Grimble ig-
nored him.

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together like a
blow-fly, "what would you like to address first?
Perhaps we could discuss our overall approach
and strategy over lunch?"

"Umm . . ."I said intelligently.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

29

The horrible truth was that, now that I was
actually confronted by Grimble and his paper
mountains, I didn't have the foggiest notion of
how to proceed.

"Actually, Grimble," Bunny said stepping for-
ward, "before we think about lunch, I'd like to see
your Operating Plan for the current year, the
calendarized version, as well as the P and L's and
Financial Statements for the last few months . . .
oh yes, and your Cash Flow Analysis, both the
projections and the actuals, if you don't mind."

The Chancellor blanched slightly and swal-
lowed hard.

"Certainly. I ... of course," he said, giving
Bunny a look which was notably more respectful
than his earlier attentions. "I'll get those for you
right now."

He scuttled off to confer with a couple of his
underlings, all the while glancing nervously back
at our little group.

I caught Aahz's eye and raised and eyebrow,
which he responded to with a grimace and a
shrug. It was nice to know my partner was as
much in the dark as I was regarding Bunny's
requests.

"Here we are," Grimble said, returning with a
fistful of paper which he passed to Bunny. "I'll
have the Cash Flow for you in a moment, but you
can get started with these."

Bunny grunted something non-committal, and
began leafing through the sheets, pausing to scru-
tinize each page intently. More for show than
anything, I eased over to where I could look over
her shoulder. In no time flat, my keen eye could

30

Robert Aspirin

tell without a doubt that the pages were filled
with rows and columns of numbers. Terrific.

"Um ... I do have some spread sheets to
support some of those figures if you'd like to see
them/' Grimble supplied uneasily.

Bunny paused in her examinations to favor him
with a dark glance.

"Maybe later," she said. "I mean, you do know
the origin of spreadsheets, don't you?"

"Umm . . ." the Chancellor hedged.

"They were named after the skins used by
trappers," Bunny continued with a faint smile.
"You know, the things they dragged after them to
hide their tracks?"

For a moment Grimble stared at her, bewil-
dered, then he gave a sudden bark of laughter,
slapping her playfully on the shoulder.

"That's good!" he exclaimed. "I'll have to re-
member that one."

I glanced at Aahz.

"Accountant humor, I guess," he said with a
grimace. "Incomprehensible to mere mortals. You
know, like 'We'll make it up on volume' jokes?"

"Now that's not funny," Grimble corrected
with mock severity. "We've had that line dumped
on us all too often ... in complete sincerity.
Right Bunny?"

I couldn't help but notice that he was now
treating Bunny with the deference of a colleague.
Apparently her joke, however nonsensical it had
been to me, had convinced the Chancellor that
she was more than my arm ornament.

"Too true," my assistant said. "But seriously,
Grimble, getting back to the problem at hand,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

31

we're going to need complete, non-camouflaged
figures if we're going to get the kingdom's fi-
nances back on course. I know the tradition is to
pretty things up with charts and studies of his-
toric trends, but since we'll be working with
insiders only, just this once let's try it with hard,
cold data."

It sounded like a reasonable request to me, but
the Chancellor seemed to think it was a radical
proposal . . . and not a particularly wise one, at
that.

"I don't know, Bunny," he said, shooting a look
at Aahz and me one normally reserves for spies
and traitors. "I mean, you know how it is. Even
though we usually get cast as the villains of
bureaucracy, we don't have any real power to
implement change. All we do is make recommen-
dations to those who can change things. If we
don't sugarcoat our recommendations, or slant
them so they're in line with what the movers and
shakers wanted to hear all along, or clutter them
up until the Gods themselves can't understand
what we're really saying, then there's a risk that
we end up being what gets changed."

"Nobody really wants to hear the truth, eh?"
Aahz said, sympathetically. "I suppose that's typi-
cal. I think you'll find it's different this time
around. Grimble. If nothing else, Skeeve here has
full power to implement whatever changes he
thinks are necessary to bring things in line."

"That's right," I said, glad to finally be able to
contribute to the proceedings. "One of the things
I think we should do as soon as possible is cut

32

Robert Asprin

back on the size of the army . . . say, maybe, by
one-half?"

Knowing the Chancellor's long-time feud with
military spending, I thought he'd leap at this
suggestion, but to my surprise, he shook his head.

"Can't do it," he said. "It would cause a depres-
sion."

"I don't care if they're happy or not!" Aahz
snarled. "Let's get 'em off the payroll. The Queen's
agreed to stop her expansionist policies, so there's
no reason we should keep paying for an army
this size."

Grimble gave my partner a look like he was
something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe.

"I was referring to an economic depression," he
said tersely. "If we dump that many ex-soldiers on
the job market at the same time we're cutting
back on military spending, it would create massive
unemployment. Broke, hungry people, particularly
those with prior military training, have a nasty
tendency to revolt against those in power . . .
which, in this case, happens to be us. I think
you'll agree, therefore, that, in the long run, huge
cutbacks in the military force is not the wisest
course to follow."

I was rapidly developing a greater respect for
Grimble. Obviously there was more to this bean-
counting game than I had ever imagined.

"We might, however, achieve some savings
through attrition," the Chancellor continued.

"Attrition?" I said. I had decided that, if I was
going to be any help at all in this effort, it was
time I admitted my ignorance and started learn-
ing some of the basic vocabulary.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

33

"In this case, Lord Skeeve," Grimble explained
with surprising patience, "the term refers to cut-
ting manpower by not rehiring as people termi-
nate at the normal rate ... or, for the army, that
we stop adding new recruits to replace those
whose term of enlistment is up. It will still cut
the size of the army, but at a slower rate more
easily absorbed by the civilian work force."

"Can we afford to do it slowly?" Aahz said,
seemingly unfazed by his earlier rebuke. "I was
under the impression the kingdom was in dire
straits financially."

"I believe I had heard some rumor that we
might be raising our tax rate?" The Chancellor
made the statement a question as he looked at me
pointedly.

"I'm not sure that will do any good," Bunny
said from where she was reviewing the figures
Grimble had passed her.

"Excuse me?" the Chancellor frowned.

"Well, from what I'm seeing here, the big prob-
lem isn't income, it's collections," she said, tap-
ping one of the sheets she was holding.

Grimble sighed, seeming to deflate slightly.

"I'll admit that's one of our weak suits," he
said, "But ..."

"Whoa! Time out!" I interrupted. "Could some-
one provide a translation?"

"What I'm saying is that the kingdom actually
has a fair amount of money," Bunny said, "but it's
all on paper. That is, people owe us a lot on back
taxes, but it isn't being collected. If we could
make some inroads into converting these receiv-
ables . . . that's debts owed to us . . . into cash.

34

Robert Asprin

which we can spend, the kingdom would be in
pretty good shape. Not stellar, mind you, but
enough to ease the current crisis."

"The problem is," Grimble said, picking up the
thread of her oration, "the citizens are extremely
un-cooperative when it comes to taxes. They
fight us every inch of the way in admitting how
much they owe, and when it comes to actually
paying their tax bill . . . well, the variety of
excuses they invent would be amusing, if we
weren't going bankrupt waiting for them to settle
their accounts."

"I can't argue with them there," Aahz smirked.

"It's the duty of every citizen to pay their fair
share of the cost of running the kingdom through
taxes," the Chancellor said testily.

"And it's the right of every individual to pay the
lowest possible amount of taxes they can justify
legally," my partner shot back.

For a moment, it sounded like old times, with
Aahz and Grimble going head to head. Unfortu-
nately, this time, we all had bigger fish to fry.

"Check me on this," I said, holding up a hand
to silence them. "What if we see if we can kill two
birds with one stone?"

"How's that?" Grimble frowned.

"Well, first, we implement your suggestion of
reducing the army by attrition . . . maybe hur-
rying it along a little by offering shortened enlist-
ments for anyone who wanted out early ..."

"That might help," the Chancellor nodded,
"but I don't see ..."

"And," I continued quickly, "convert a portion
of those remaining in the service into tax collec-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

35

tors. That way they can be helping to raise the
cash necessary to cover their own pay."

Grimble and Bunny looked at each other.

"That might work," Grimble said, thought-
fully.

"It can't do much worse than the system that's
already in place," Bunny nodded.

"Tell you what," I said loftily. "Kick it around
between the two of you and maybe rough out a
plan for implementing it. Aahz and I will go
discuss it with the Queen."

Actually, I had no intention of visiting Hem-
lock just now, but I figured it was as good a time
as any to escape from this meeting . . . while I
had at least a small victory to my credit.

I

Chapter Four:

"I'm getting paid how much?"
M. JORDAN

THE NEXT SEVERAL days were relatively uneventful.
In fact, they seemed so much alike that I tended
to lose track of which day was which.

If this sounds like I was more than a little
bored, I was. After years of adventuring and nar-
row escapes, I found the day to day routine of
regular work to be pretty bland. Of course, the
fact that I didn't know what I was doing contrib-
uted greatly to my mood.

I mean, within my own areas of specializa-
tion . . . such as running from angry mobs or
trying to finagle a better deal from a client ... I
was ready to admit that I was as good or better
than anyone. At things like budgets, operating
plans, and cash flows, however, I was totally out
of my depth.

It was more than a little spooky when I realized
37

38

Robert Asprin

that, even though I didn't know what I was doing,
the recommendations I was making or approv-
ing, like converting part of the army into tax
collectors, were becoming law nearly as fast as I
spoke. Still, it had been impressed on me that we
had to do something to save the kingdom's fi-
nances, so I repeatedly crossed my fingers under
the table and went with whatever seemed to be
the best idea at the time.

Before I get too caught up in complaining about
my situation, however, let me pause to give credit
where credit is due. As bad as things were, I
would have been totally lost without Bunny.

Though I didn't plan it that way, my adminis-
trative assistant ended up doing double duty.
First, she would spend long hours going over
numbers and plans with Grimble in their high
speed, abbreviated jargon while I sat there nod-
ding with a vacant look on my face, then an equal
or greater amount of time with me later patiently
trying to explain what had been decided. As mind
numbing as it was, I found it preferable to my
alternate pastime, which was trying to figure out
what to do about Queen Hemlock's marriage
offer.

Every so often, however, something would pop
up that I felt I DID know something about. While
it would usually turn out in the long run that I
was (badly) mistaken, it would provide a break
from the normal complacency. Of course, I wasn't
that wild about being shown to be specifically
stupid as well as generally ignorant, but it was a
change of pace.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

39

One conversation in particular springs to mind
when I think back on those sessions.

"Wait a minute, Bunny. What was that last
figure again?"

"What?" she said, glancing up from the piece of
paper she was reciting from. "Oh, that was your
budget."

"My budget for what?"

"For your portion of the financial operation, of
course. It covers salaries and operating expense."

"Whoa! Stop the music!" I said, holding up my
hand. "I officially retired as Court Magician. How
did I end up back on the payroll?"

"Grimble put you back on the same day you
came back from Perv," Bunny said patiently. "But
that has nothing to do with this. This is your
budget for your financial consulting. Your magi-
cal fees are in a whole separate section."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"Oh Skeeve," she grimaced, rolling her eyes
slightly. "I've explained all this to you before. We
have to keep the budgets for different kingdom
operations on separate records to be able to track
their performance accurately. Just like we have to
keep the types of expenses within each operation
in separate accounts. Otherwise . . ."

"No, I didn't mean that it was ridiculous to
keep them in separate sections," I clarified hast-
ily, before she could get settled into yet another
accounting lesson. "I meant the budget itself was
ridiculous."

For some reason, this seemed to get Bunny even
more upset rather than calming her down.

"Look, Skeeve," she said stiffly. "I know you

40

Robert Asprin

don't understand everything Grimble and I are
doing, but believe me, I don't just make these
numbers up. That figure for your budget is a
reasonable projection, based on estimated ex-
penses and current pay scales . . . even Grimble
says it's acceptable and has approved it. Realizing
that, I'd be very cautious to hear the exact basis
by which you're saying it's ridiculous."

"You don't understand, Bunny/' I said, shaking
my head. "I'm not saying the number is ridicu-
lous or inaccurate. What I mean is that it shouldn't
be there at all."

"What do you mean?"

I was starting to feel like we were speaking in
different languages, but pressed on bravely.

"Com'on, Bunny. All this work is supposed to
be saving money for the kingdom. You know,
turning the finances around?"

"Yes, yes," Bunny nodded. "So what's your
point?"

"So how does it help things to charge them
anything for our services, much less an outra-
geous rate like this. For that matter, I don't think
I should charge them for my magical services,
either, all things considered."

"Um, Partner?" Aahz said, uncoiling from his
customary seat in the corner. If anything, I think
he was even more bored by these sessions than I
was. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Before this
conversation goes any further?"

I knew what that meant. Aahz is notorious
when it comes to pushing our rates higher, oper-
ating under the basic principle that earning less
than possible is the same as losing money. As

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LJFE

41

soon as I started talking about not only reducing
our fees, but eliminating them completely, it was
only to be expected that Aahz would jump into
the fray. I mean, talk about money in general, and
about our money specifically, would bring Aahz
out of a coma.

This time, however, I wasn't about to go along
with him.

"Forget it, Aahz," I said, waving him off. "I'm
not going to back off on this one."

"But Partner," he said menacingly, reaching
out his hand casually for my shoulder.

"I said 'No!'" I insisted, ducking out of his
reach. I've tried to argue with him before when he
has gotten a death grip on my shoulder, and was
not about to give him that advantage again. "This
time I know I'm right."

"What's right about working for FREE!" he
snarled, abandoning all subtlety. "Haven't I taught
you ANYTHING in all these years!"

"You've taught me a lot!!" I shot back at him.
"And I've gone along with a lot ... and it usu-
ally turned out for the best. But there's one thing
we've never done, Aahz, for all our finagling and
scrambling. To the best of my knowledge, we've
never gouged money out of someone who couldn't
afford it. Have we?"

"Well, no. But . . ."

"If we can beat Deveels or the Mob out of some
extra money, well and good," I continued. "They
have lots of money, and I got most of it swindling
other people. But with Possiltum we're talking
about a kingdom that's on the ropes financially.
How can we say we're here to help them when at

42	Robert Asprin

the same time we're kicking them in the head
with inflated fees?"

Aahz didn't answer at once, and after a mo-
ment, he dropped his eyes.

"But Grimble's already approved it," he said
finally, in a voice that was almost plaintive.

I couldn't believe it! I had actually won an
argument with Aahz over money! Fortunately, I
had the presence of mind to be magnanimous in
my victory.

"Then I'm sure he'll approve of cutting the
expense even more," I said, putting my hand on
Aahz's shoulder for a change. "Aside from that,
it's just a clerical adjustment. Right, Bunny?"

"No."

She said it softly, but there was no mistaking
her answer. So much for my victory.

"But Bunny ..." I began desperately, but she
cut me off.

"I said 'No' and I meant it, Skeeve," she said.
"Really, Aahz. I'm surprised you've let this go on
for as long as it has. There are greater principles at
stake here than basic greed!"

Aahz started to open his mouth, then closed it
without speaking. It's probably the only time I've
seen Aahz agree, even by silence, that there
existed any higher principles than greed. Still,
Bunny was arguing his side of the fight, so he let
it ride.

"Your heart may be in the right place, Skeeve,"
she said, turning back to me, "but there are
factors here you're overlooking or don't under-
stand."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF UFE

43

"So explain them to me," I said, a little miffed,
but nonetheless willing to learn.

Bunny pursed her lips for a moment, apparently
organizing her thoughts.

"All right," she said, "let's take it from the
beginning. As I understand it, we're supposed to
be helping the kingdom get out of it's current
financial crisis. What Grimble and I have been
doing, aside from recommending emergency ex-
pense cuts, is to come up with a reasonable
budget and operating plan to get things back on an
even keel. The emphasis here is on 'reasonable.'
The bottom line is that it is not reasonable to
expect anyone . . . you, me, or Grimble ... to
provide such a crucial service for nothing. No-
body works for free. The army doesn't, the farm-
ers don't, and there's no reason we should."

"But because of that very crisis, the kingdom
can't afford to pay us!" I protested.

"Nonsense," Bunny snapped. "First of all, re-
member that the Queen got the kingdom into this
mess all by herself by pouring too much money
into the army. We're not the problem. We're the
imported experts who are supposed to get them
out of the hole they dug for themselves."

"Second," she continued before I could inter-
rupt, "as you can see from the sheets I'm showing
you, we can save enough in expenses and generate
sufficient revenues from taxes to pay our own fees.
That's part of the job of a bean-counter . . .
to show their employer how to afford to pay
themselves. Not many professions do that!"

What she was saying made sense, but I was still
unconvinced.

44

Robert Asprin

"Well, at the very least can't we cut our fees a
bit?" I said. "There's no real reason for us to
charge as much as you have us down for."

"Skeeve, Skeeve, Skeeve," Bunny said, shaking
her head. "I told you I didn't just make up these
numbers. I know you're used to negotiating deals
on what the client will bear, but in a budget like
this, the pay scale is almost dictated. It's set by
what others are getting paid. Anything else is so
illogical, it would upset the whole system."

I glanced at Aahz, but he had his eyes fixed on
Bunny, hanging on her every word.

"Okay. Let's take it from the top," I said.
"Explain it to me in babytalk, Bunny. Just how are
these pay scales fixed?"

She pursed her lips for a moment while orga-
nizing her thoughts.

"Well, to start with, you have to understand
that the pay scale for any job is influenced heavily
by supply and demand." she began. "Top dollar
jobs usually fall into one of three categories.
First, is if the job is particularly unpleasant or
dangerous . . . then, you have to pay extra just
to get someone to be willing to do it. Second are
the jobs where a particular skill or talent is called
for. Entertainers and athletes fall into this cat-
egory, but so do the jobs that require a high degree
of training, like doctors."

"And magicians!" my partner chimed in.
"Bear with me, Aahz," Bunny said, holding up a
restraining hand to him. "Now, the third category
for high pay are those who have a high degree of
responsibility . . . whose decisions involve a lot
of money and/or affect a lot of people. If a worker

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

45

in a corporation makes a mistake, it means a day's
or a week's work may have to be redone ... or,
perhaps, a client is lost. The president of the same
corporation may only make three or four deci-
sions a year, but those decisions may be to open or
close six plants or to begin or discontinue an
entire line of products. If that person makes a
mistake, it could put hundreds or thousands of
people out of work. Responsibility of that level is
frightening and wearing, and the person willing to
hold the bag deserves a higher degree of compen-
sation. With me so far?"

"It makes sense ... so far," I nodded.

"Moving along then, within each profession,
there's a pecking order with the best or most expe-
rienced getting the highest rates, while the newer,
lower workers settle for starting wages. Popular
entertainers earn more than relative unknowns
who are still building a following. Supervisors and
managers get more than those reporting to them,
since they have to have both the necessary skills
of the job plus the responsibility of organizing and
overseeing others. This is the natural order of a
job force, and it provides incentive for new work-
ers to stick with a job and to try to move up in the
order. Got it?"

"That's only logical," I agreed.

"Then you understand why I have you down in
the budget for the rather substantial figure you've
been protesting," she concluded triumphantly.

"I do?" I blinked.

I thought I had been following her fine, step by
step. Somewhere along the way, however, I seemed
to have missed something.

46

Robert Asprin

"Don't you see, Skeeve?" she pressed. "The
services you're providing for Possiltum fall into
all three of the high pay requirements. The work
is dangerous and unpleasant, it definitely requires
special skills from you and your staff, and, since
you're setting policy for an entire kingdom, the
responsibility level is right up there with the best
of them!"

I had never stopped to think about it in those
terms, mostly to preserve my nerves and sanity,
but she did have a point. She wasn't done, how-
ever.

"What's more," she continued, "you're darn-
near at the top of your profession and the pecking
order. Remember, Grimble's reporting to you now,
which makes your pay scale higher than his.
What's more, you've been a hot magical property
for some time now . . . not just here on Klah,
but at the Bazaar on Deva which is pretty big
league. Your Queen Hemlock has gotten the king-
dom in a major mess, and if she's going to hire the
best to bail her out, she's bloody well going to pay
for it."

That last part had an unpleasant sound of
vindictiveness to it, but there was something that
was bothering me even more.

"For the moment, let's say I agree with you . . .
at least on the financial side," I said. "I still don't
see how I can draw pay as a financial consultant
and a court magician.

"Because you're doing both jobs," Bunny in-
sisted.

". . . But I'm not working magikally right now,"
I shot back.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

47

"Aren't you?" she challenged. "Come on, Skeeve.
Are you trying to tell me that if some trouble arose
that required a magikal solution, that you'd just
stand by and ignore it?"

"Well, no. But ..."

"No 'buts,'" Bunny interrupted. "You're in resi-
dence here, and ready to throw your full resources
into any magikal assignment that arises . . . just
like you're doing at the Bazaar. They're paying
you a hefty percentage just to be on standby. If
anything, you're giving Possiltum a break on
what you're charging them. Make no mistake,
though, you are doing the job. I'm just making
sure they pay you for it. If they want a financial
consultant and a court magician, then it's only
fair that it shows in their budget and is part of the
burden they have to raise money to pay."

She had me. It occurred to me, however, that if
this conversation lasted much longer, she'd have
me believing that black was white.

"I guess it's okay then/' I said, shrugging my
shoulders. "It still sounds high to me."

"It is," Bunny said, firmly. "You've got to
remember though, Skeeve, that whole amount
isn't just for you. It's M.Y.T.H. Inc. the kingdom is
paying for. The fees have to cover the expense of
your entire operation, including overhead and
staff. It's not like you're taking the whole amount
and putting it in your pocket."

I nodded casually, but my mind was racing.
What Bunny had just said had given me an idea.

If nothing else, I had learned in these sessions
that there was a big difference between a budget
or operating plan and the actual money spent. Just

I

48

Robert Asprin

because I was allowed to spend an astronomic
figure didn't mean I was compelled to do it!

I quietly resolved to bring my sections in well
under budget . . . even if it meant trimming my
own staff a bit. I loved them all dearly, but as
Bunny had just pointed out, part of my own job
was to be highly responsible.

Chapter Five:

"What you need is a collection agency."

D. SHULTZ

MY SESSION WITH Bunny had given me food for
thought. Retreating to the relative privacy of my
room, I took time to reflect on it over a goblet of
wine.

Usually, I assigned people to work on various
assignments for M.Y.T.H. Inc. on a basis of what
I thought it would take to get the job done and
who I thought would be best to handle it. That,
and who was available.

As Bunny had pointed out, our prices were
usually set on a basis of what the traffic would
bear. I suppose I should have given more thought
in the past to whether or not the income from a
particular job covered the expense of the people
involved, or if the work warranted the price, but
operating the way we had been seemed to gener-
ate enough money to make ends meet . . . more
than enough, actually.

49

50

Robert Asprin

The recent two projects, my bringing Aahz
back from Perv and the rest of the team trying to
stop Possiltum's army, were notable exceptions.
These were almost personal missions, undertaken
on my own motivations or suggestions, without an
actual client or revenue.

Now, however, I was confronted by an entirely
new situation.

Everyone in the crew was hanging around the
castle . . . with the exception of Tananda, who
was minding the offices back on Deva. The ques-
tion was, did they have to be here?

I had a hunch that they were mostly staying
here because they were worried about me . . .
not without some justification. They all knew I
was in a spot, and wanted to be close at hand if I
needed help.

While I appreciated their concern, and defi-
nitely wanted the moral support, I also had to
admit that there wasn't whole bunches they could
do. Bunny was invaluable in turning the king-
dom's finances around, but aside from holding my
hand though this crisis, there was relatively little
the others could do.

The trouble was, by simple arithmetic, while
they were here on Possiltum, they weren't out
working other assignments, making money for
M.Y.T.H. Inc. and therefore for themselves . . .
for a whole month! On top of the work time they
missed while stopping Hemlock's army as a favor
to me. If this organization was going to be a
functioning, profit-making venture and not a hu-
manitarian "bail-Skeeve-out" charity, we had to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

51

get back our bottom-line orientation. What's more,
both as president and the one who had led us off
on this side trip, I had to seize the initiative in
setting things right again. That meant that I
either had to trim the force, or go along with
Bunny's plan of charging the kingdom for all our
time.

The question was, who to trim?

Aahz had to stay. Not only had I just gone
through a lot of trouble to get him back from Perv,
but I genuinely valued his advice and guidance.
While I had gotten into immeasurably more trouble
since we first met, I had also become very aware
that he was unequaled at getting us out of trouble as
well.

Bunny was a must. Even though it had been
Tananda's idea originally to deal her in on this
mess, I was very aware that without her expertise
and knowledge, we didn't have a chance at bailing
out the kingdom financially. Besides, judging by
her greeting when we were reunited, I wasn't sure
she'd be willing to go back to the Bazaar and leave
me to face this dilemma alone.

As to my three bodyguards . . . after a mo-
ment's thought I decided to hold judgment on
that one. First of all, I had just convinced Pookie
to stay, which would make me look like a fool if
I suddenly changed my mind. Second, I wasn't
altogether sure I wouldn't need them. When I
went off to Perv, I did it without Guido and
Nunzio . . . over their strong protests . . . and
ended up having to hire Pookie in their absence.
Before I thought seriously about sending them all

52

Robert Asprin

away again, I'd want to have a long talk about
how they viewed my prospective danger here.
While I wanted to save the kingdom money, I
wasn't so generous as to do it if it meant putting
myself in danger.

That left Massha and Chumley.

Massha came to me as an apprentice, and
though I hadn't been very diligent in teaching her
magik, I still had a responsibility to her that
couldn't be filled if she were on Deva and I was
here. Despite the fact I hadn't let her accompany
me to Perv, I knew full well from my own
experience that an apprentice's place is with his
or her teacher.

I was suddenly confronted by the fact that the
only one remaining on the list to be trimmed was
Chumley . . . and I didn't want to do it. Despite
the hairyknuckled, muscle-bound illiterate act
the troll liked to put on when he was working,
Chumley was probably the levelest head in our
entire M.Y.T.H. Inc. crew. Frankly, I trusted his
judgment and wisdom a lot more than I did
Aahz's fiery temper. The idea of trying to make up
my mind about Queen Hemlock's proposal with-
out Chumley's wisdom was disquieting at best.
Maybe after I had reached my decision . . .

As much as I had tried to avoid thinking about
it, the problem popped into my head and the
potential ramifications hit me with a chilling
impact.

Nervously, I gulped down the remaining wine
in my goblet and hastily refilled it.

After I reached my decision . . ,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

53

All my thoughts and energies were focused on
the immediate problems and short term plans.
What was going to happen after I made my
decision, whatever that decision was?

Things were never going to be the same for me.

Whether I married Queen Hemlock or, if refused,
she abdicated and left me to run the kingdom on
my own, I was going to be committed to stay in
Possiltum a long time. A very long time.

I couldn't do that and maintain an office on
Deva!

Would we have to move our operation here to
Klah?

For that matter, could I be either a consort or a
king and still do a responsible job as the president
of M.Y.T.H. Inc.?

If I was uneasy about charging the kingdom for
my crew for a month, how could I justify putting
them all on the payroll permanently!

What about our other commitments? if we
moved to Klah, it would mean giving up our juicy
contract with the Devan Merchant's Association
as magicians in residence. Could I charge Possil-
tum enough to make up for that kind of an
income loss?

... Or would I have to step down as president
of M.Y.T.H. Inc. entirely? Despite my occasional
complaining, I had grown to like my position, and
was reluctant to give it up ... particularly if it
meant losing all my friends like Aahz and . . .

AAHZl

However it went, would Aahz want to hang
around as a partner constantly standing in the

54

Robert Asprin

shadow of my being consort or king? Having just
recently dealt with his pride head to head, I
doubted it very much.

Whatever my decision, the odds were that, once
I reached it, I was going to lose Aahz!

A soft rap on my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Say, Boss. Can you spare a minute?"

Not only could I spare it, I was glad for the
break.

"Sure Guido. Come on in. Pour yourself some
wine."

"I never drink when I'm workin', Boss," he said
with a hint of reproach, "but thanks anyway. I
just need to talk to you about something."

My senior bodyguard took a chair and sat fidg-
eting with the roll of parchment he was holding.
It occurred to me how seldom I just sat and talked
with my bodyguards. I had rather gotten accus-
tomed to their just being there.

"So, what can I do for you?" I said, sipping my
wine casually, trying to put him at his ease.

"Well, Boss," he began hesitantly, "it's like
this. I was thinkin' . . . You know how Nunzio
and me spent some time in the army here?"

"Yes, I heard about that."

"Bein' on the inside like that, I get the feelin' I
probably know a little more'n you do about the
army types and how they think. The truth is, I'm
a little worried about how they're gonna handle
bein' tax collectors. Know what I mean?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"What I mean is," Guido continued earnestly,
"when you're a soldier, you don't have to worry

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

55

much about how popular you are with the enemy,
'cause mostly you're tryin' to make him dead and
you don't expect him to like it. It's different doin'
collection work, whether it's protection money or
taxes, which is of course just a different kind of
protection racket. Ya gotta be more diplomatic
'cause you're gonna have to deal with the same
people over and over again. These army types
might be aces when it comes to takin' real estate
away from a rival operation, but I'm not sure how
good they are at knowin' when to be gentle with
civilian types. Get my drift?"

While I had never shared Guide's experience of
being in an army, I had faced one once during my
first assignment here at the court of Possiltum,
and even earlier had been lynched by some sol-
diers acting as city guardsmen. Now, suddenly, I
had visions of army troops with crossbows and
catapults advancing on helpless citizens.

"I hadn't really thought about it," I said, "but I
see your point."

"Well, you know I don't care much for meddlin'
in management type decisions," Guido contin-
ued, "but I have a suggestion. I was thinkin' you
could maybe appoint someone from the army to
specifically inspect and investigate the collectin'
process. You know, to be sure the army types
didn't get too carried away with their new du-
ties."

I really appreciated Guide's efforts to come up
with a solution, particularly as I didn't have one
of my own. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a
bit of a flaw in his logic.

56

Robert Asprin

"Um ... I don't quite understand, Guido," I
said. "Isn't it kind of pointless to have someone
from the army watching over the army? I mean,
what's to say our inspector will be any different
from the one's he's supposed to be policing?"

"Two things/' my bodyguard replied, flashing
his smile for the first time since he entered the
room. "First, I have someone specific in mind for
the inspector . . . one of my old army buddies.
Believe me, Boss, this person is not particularly
fond or tolerant of the way the army does things.
As a matter of fact, I've already had the papers
drawn up to formalize the assignment. All you
gotta do is sign 'em."

He passed me the scroll he had been clutching
and I realized he had actually been thinking out
this suggestion well in advance.

"Funny name for a soldier," I said, scanning the
document. "Spyder."

"Trust me, Boss," Guido pressed. "This is the
person for the job."

"You said there were two things?" I stalled.
"What's the other?"

"Well, I thought you could have a couple per-
sonal envoys tag along. You know, reportin' di-
rectly to you. That way you could be doubly sure
the army wasn't hidin' anything from you."

"I see," I said, toying with the scroll. "And I
suppose you have a couple specific people in mind
for the envoys, as well?"

"Um ... As a matter of fact . . ."

"I don't know, Guido," I said, shaking my head.
"I mean, it's a good idea, but I'm not sure I can
spare both you and Nunzio. If nothing else, I want

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

57

Nunzio to do a little work with Gleep. I want to
find out for sure if there's anything wrong with
him."

"Ah . . . Actually, Boss," my bodyguard said,
carefully studying his massive hands, "I wasn't
thinkin' of Nunzio. I was thinkin' maybe Pookie
and me could handle it."

More than anything else he had said, this sur-
prised me. Guido and his cousin Nunzio had
always worked as a team, to a point where I
practically thought of the two of them as one
person. The fact that Guido was willing to split
the team up was an indication of how concerned
he was over the situation. Either that, or a sign of
how far he was willing to go to get some time
alone with Pookie.

"Really, Boss," he urged, sensing my hesitation.
"There ain't a whole lot to do here for three
bodyguards. I mean, the way I see it, the only one
here in the castle who might want to do you any
bodily harm is the Queen herself, and I don't
think you have to worry about her until after
you've made up your mind on the marriage thing.
I'm just lookin' for a way that we can earn our
keep . . . something useful to do."

That did it. His point about reassigning my
bodyguards played smack into my current think-
ing about trimming the team or expanding their
duties. Then, too, I wasn't eager to prolong any
discussion which involved my making up my
mind about what to do about Hemlock.

"Okay, Guido," I said, scribbling my signature
across the bottom of the scroll. "You've got it.

58	Robert Asprin

Just be sure to keep me posted as to what's going
on."

"Thanks, Boss," he grinned, taking the scroll
and looking at the signature. "You won't regret
this."

It hadn't occurred to me at all that I might
regret it ... until he mentioned it. I mean, what
could go wrong?

Chapter Six:

"Money is the root of all evil. Women
need roots."

D. TRUMP

THOUGH THE VARIOUS administrative hassles of try-
ing to straighten out Possiltum's finances weighed
heavily on my mind, there was another, bigger
worry that ran like an undercurrent through my
head whenever I was awake.

Should I or shouldn't I marry Queen Hemlock?

Aahz kept saying that I should go along with it,
become the royal consort with an easy (not to
mention well-paying) job for life. I had to admit,
in many ways it looked more attractive than
having her abdicate and ending up holding the bag
for running the kingdom all by myself. I had that
"opportunity" once before courtesy of the late
King Roderick, and really didn't want to repeat
the experience.

So why was I dragging my feet on making my
decision?

59

60

Robert Asprin

Mostly, my indecision was due to my reluc-
tance to accept the obvious choice. As much as I
was repelled by the known quantity of being king,
I was as much or more terrified of the unknown
factors involved in marriage.

Time and time again, I tried to sort out if it was
the idea of getting married that scared me, or if it
was Queen Hemlock specifically that I couldn't
picture as my wife.

My wife!

Every time that phrase crossed my mind, it was
like an icy hand grabbed my heart hard enough to
make it skip a beat.

Frankly, I was having trouble picturing anyone
I knew in that role. In an effort to get a handle on
my feelings, I forced myself to review the women
of my acquaintance in that light.

Massha, my apprentice, was out of the ques-
tion. While we were close enough as friends, as
well as teacher/student, her sheer size was in-
timidating. The truth was, I had trouble thinking
of her as a woman. Oh, I knew she was female all
right, but I tended to see her as a friend who was
female . . . not as a female, if you can see the
difference.

Bunny . . . well, I supposed that she could be
considered a candidate. The problem there was
that she was the first woman who had made a
solid pass at me, and it had scared me to death.
When her uncle, Don Bruce, first dumped her on
me, she was all set to play a gangster's moll. Once
I got her straightened out, however, she had
settled into being my administrative assistant
like a duck takes to water, and the question of

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

61

anything intimate developing between us never
came up again. Thinking of her in terms of a life
partner would mean completely restructuring how
I viewed her and worked with her, and right now
she was far too valuable as my assistant for me to
rock the boat.

Tananda ... I had to smile at the thought of
the Trollop assassin as my wife. Oh, she was
friendly enough, not to mention very attractive,
and for a long time I had a crush on her. It
eventually became apparent, however, that the
hugs and kisses she bestowed on me were no
different than those she gave the rest of the
team . . . including her brother Chumley. She was
just a physically friendly person, and the affection
she showed me was that shown for a co-worker,
or maybe a kid brother. I could accept that, now.
Besides, I somehow couldn't see her giving up her
own career to settle down keeping house for me.
No, as much as I loved her, Tananda would never
fit as my wife. She was . . . well, Tananda.

That left Queen Hemlock, who I had no real
feeling for at all except, perhaps a sense of uneasi-
ness every time she was around. She always
seemed extremely sure of herself and what she
wanted . . . which made her almost my exact
opposite. Of course, that in itself was an interest-
ing thought. Then, too, she was the only one who
had ever expressed a desire to be paired with
me . . . and seemed to want it badly enough to
fight for it. Even Bunny had backed off once I
rebuffed her. I had to admit that it did something
to a man's ego to have a woman determined to bag

62

Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

63

him . . . even if he wasn't all that drawn to the
woman in the first place.

Unfortunately, that was pretty much it for my
list of female acquaintances. Oh, there were a few
others I had come into contact with over the
years, like Markie . . . and Luanna . . .

Luanna!!

She had almost slipped my mind completely,
but once I thought of her, her face sprang into
focus as if she were standing in front of me.
Luanna. Lovely Luanna. Our paths had only crossed
a couple times, most notedly during my adven-
ture in the dimension of Limbo, and the last time
we met the parting hadn't been pleasant. In short,
I really didn't know her at all. Still, in many ways,
she epitomized everything that was feminine in
my mind. Not only did she radiate a soft, vulner-
able beauty, her manner was demure. That may
not seem like much to you, but it was to me. You
see, most of the women I work with can only be
called aggressive ... or, less politely, brassy. Even
Hemlock, for all her regal blood, was very straight-
forward about stating her mind and wishes. Bunny
had cooled it a bit, once I got her off her moll kick,
but had replaced her blatant suggestiveness with
a brusk efficient manner that, at times, could be
every bit as intimidating as her old sex kitten
routine.

In contrast, Luanna always seemed very shy
and hesitant in my presence. Her voice was usu-
ally quiet to a point I sometimes had to strain to
hear her, and she had a habit of looking down,
then peering up at me through her lashes ... as
if she felt I could bully her physically or verbally,

L

but trusted me not to. I can't speak for other men,
but it always made me feel ten feet tall . . . very
powerful and with an overwhelming urge to use
that strength to protect her from the hardships of
the world.

Thinking of her while trying to appraise what I
would want in a wife, I found myself dwelling on
the image of finding her waiting for me at the
close of each day . . . and realized the image
wasn't all that objectionable. In fact, once she
surfaced in my memory, I found myself thinking
of her quite a bit whenever I tried to sort out
my current position, and more than occasionally
wished I could see her again before I had to make
my final decision.

As it turned out, I got my wish.

I was in my room, making another of my feeble
attempts to make head or tail of the stack of
spreadsheets that Bunny and Grimble kept pass-
ing me on an almost daily basis. As those of you
who have been following these adventures from
the beginning may recall, I can read ... or, at
least, I had thought that I could. Since undertak-
ing the task of sorting out the kingdom's finances,
however, I had found out that reading text, which
is to say, words, is a lot different than being able
to read numbers.

I mean, we were all in agreement as to our goal,
which was to eliminate or lessen the kingdom's
debt load without either placing a staggering tax
burden on the populace or cutting so much off the
operating budget that the necessary administra-
tive operations became non-functional. As I say,
we were all in agreement . . . verbally . . .

64

Robert Asprin

with words. Any time there was a disagreement
between Grimble and Bunny on particulars, how-
ever, and they came to me to cast the deciding
vote or make a decision, they would each invari-
ably support their side of the argument by passing
me one or more of those cryptic sheets covered
with numbers and not much else, then wait
expectantly as I scanned it, as if their case had just
become self-explanatory.

Now, for those of you who have never been
placed in this situation, let me offer a little
clarification. When I say I can't read numbers, I
don't mean that I can't decipher the symbols. I
know what a two is and what it stands for and
how it differs from, say, an eight. The problem I
was confronted with in these arguments was
trying to see them in relation to each other. To do
a "word analogy," if the numbers were words,
both Bunny and Grimble could look at a page full
of numbers and see sentences and paragraphs,
complete with subtleties and innuendos, whereas
I would look at the same page and see a mass of
unrelated, individual words. This was particu-
larly uncomfortable when they would pass me
two pages of what to them was a mystery novel,
and ask my opinion on who the killer was.

Even though I knew they knew I was a numeric
illiterate, I had gotten awfully tired of saying
"Duh, I don't know" in varying forms, and, in an
effort to salvage a few shreds of my self-respect,
had taken to saying instead "Let me look these
over and get back to you." Unfortunately, this
meant that at any specific point in time, I had a

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

65

batch of these "mystery sheets" on my desk that
I felt obligated to at least try to make sense of.

Anyhoo, that's what I was doing when a knock
came at my door. In short, I was feeling inept,
frustrated, and desperately in need of diversion.

"Yes?" I called eagerly, hoping beyond hope
that it was news of an earthquake or attacking
army or something equally disastrous that would
require my immediate attention. "Who is it?"

The door opened, and Massha's head appeared.

"You busy, Hot Stuff?" she said with the re-
spect and deference she always shows me as my
apprentice. "You've got a visitor."

"Nothing that can't wait," I replied, hastily
stacking the offensive spreadsheets and replacing
them in their customary spot on the corner of my
desk. "Who's the visitor?"

"It's Luanna. You remember, the babe who
almost got us killed over in Limbo."

In hindsight, I can see that Massha was both
expressing her disapproval and trying to warn me
with her description of Luanna, but at the time it
didn't register at all.

"Luanna?" I said, beaming with delight. "Sure,
bring her in. Better yet, send her in."

"Don't worry," Massha sniffed, disdainfully. "I
wouldn't dream of intruding on your little tete-a-
tete."

Again, her reaction escaped my notice. I was far
to busy casting about the room quickly to be sure
it was presentable . . . which, of course, it was.
If nothing else, the maid service in the castle was
stellar.

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Robert Asprin

And she was there . . . standing in my room,
as lovely and winsome as I remembered.

"Uh ... Hi, Luanna," I said, suddenly at a
loss for words.

"Skeeve," she said in that soft, low voice that
seemed to make the simplest statements an exer-
cise in eloquence.

We looked at each other in silence for a few
moments.

Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that the last
time we saw each other, she had left in a huff
under the misapprehension that I was married
and had a kid.

"About the last ..." I began.

"I'm sorry about . . ." she stated simulta-
neously.

We both broke off abruptly, then looked at each
other and laughed.

"Okay. You first," I said finally, with a half bow.

"I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted
the last time we were together. What I heard later
from the rumor mill at the Bazaar convinced me
that things weren't what they seemed at the time,
and I felt terrible about not having given you a
chance to explain. I should have looked you up
sooner to say how sorry I was, but I wasn't sure
you'd even want to talk to me again. I ... I only
hope you can forgive me . . . even though there's
no real reason you should ..."

Her voice trailed off as she dropped her eyes.

Looking the way she did, so demure, so defense-
less, I could have forgiven her for being a mass
murderess, much less for any minor misunder-
standing between us.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

67

"Don't worry about it," I said, in what I hoped
was an offhand manner. "Truth to tell, Luanna, I
was about to apologize to you. It must have been
terrible for you . . . coming to me for help and
walking into the ... ah ... situation you did.
I've been thinking that I should have handled it a
lot better than I did."

"That's so sweet of you, Skeeve," Luanna said,
stepping forward to give me a quick hug and a
peck of a kiss. "You don't know how glad I am to
hear you say that."

Not surprisingly, her brief touch did strange
things to my mind . . . and metabolism. It was
only the second time she had kissed me and the
other time I had been in the middle of conning her
out of a handkerchief so I could get Aahz out of
jail. All of which is to say I was far from immune
to her kisses, however casual.

"So ... ah ... What brings you to Possil-
tum?" I said, fighting to keep my reactions from
showing.

"Why, you of course."

"Me?"

Despite my feigned surprise, I felt my pulse
quicken. I mean, I could have assumed that she
was here to see me, but it was nice to have it
confirmed that I was the sole purpose of her visit
rather than a polite afterthought.

"Sure. I heard about your new position here,
and figured it was too good a chance to pass up."

That didn't sound quite so good.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm getting it all turned around," she said,

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Robert Asprin

cutely annoyed with herself. "What I'm trying to
say is that I have a proposal for you."

That was better. In fact, it was a little too good
to be true. While I had been indulging my fanta-
sies about Luanna as a possible wife, I never dared
to think that she might be thinking the same
thoughts about me ... as a husband, I mean,
not a wife.

"A proposal?" I said, deliberately stalling to
organize my thoughts.

"That's right. I figure that you've probably got a
bit of discretionary funds available now that you're
on the kingdom payroll, and the kind of scams I
run have a good return on investment, so I was
hoping that I could get a little start-up money
from you and ..."

"Whoa! Stop the music!"

It had taken a few beats for what she was saying
to sink in, obsessed as I was with my own
expectations of the conversation. Even now, with
my pretty dream-bubble exploding around me, I
was having trouble changing gears mentally to
focus on what she was actually getting at.

"Could you back up and take it from the top?
You're here to ask for money?"

"Well . . . Yes. Not much really . . . maybe
fifty or seventy-five in gold should do." she clari-
fied hastily. "The nice thing with scams is they
don't really need much up-front capital."

"You mean you want to borrow money from
me so you can run a swindle? Here, in Possil-
tum?"

The look she leveled on me was, to say the

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

69

least, cold and appraising. Not at all the coy, shy,
averted gaze I was used to from her.

"Of course. That's what I do," she said levelly.
"I thought you knew that when you offered me a
job. Or are you just miffed because I prefer to
operate independently? I suppose this is pretty
small potatoes to you, but it's the best I can do."

As she spoke, my mind was racing back over
the previous times I had seen or spoken with her.
While I was aware then that she was always
involved in or running from the results of some
swindle or other, I had always assumed that she
was a sweet kid who was going along with her
partner, Matt. I realized now that I had no basis on
which to make that assumption, other than her
innocent looks. In fact, beyond her looks, I really
didn't know her at all.

"Is it?" I said. "Is it really the best you can do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, couldn't you do as well or better trying
your hand at something legitimate? What if I
passed you enough money to start and run a
normal business?"

The last vestige of my idealized fantasies re-
garding Luanna died as her lip curled in a sneer.

"You mean run a little shop or grocery store?
Me? No thanks. That's way too much like work.
Funny, I always thought that if anyone would
understand that, you would. You didn't get where
you are today by hard work and sweat, you did it
by fleecing the gullible and flim-flamming the
ignorant, just like Matt and I did . . . just on a
larger scale. Of course, we didn't have a demon
helping us along, like you did. Even now, as rich

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Robert Asprin

and respectable as you're supposed to be, I'll bet
you're pulling down a healthy skim from this
kingdom. It's got to be real easy, what with having
the Queen in your pocket and everybody doing
whatever you say. All I'm trying to do is to cut
myself in for a piece of the action . . . and a little
piece, at that."

I was silent for a few moments. I thought of
trying to tell her about the long hours and work I
and my team were putting in trying to straighten
out the kingdom's finances. I even considered
showing her some of the cryptic spreadsheets on
my desk . . . but decided against it. She might
be able to decipher them, and if she could would
doubtless ask some embarrassing questions about
the hefty fee I was taking for my services. I was
having trouble justifying that to myself, much
less to her.

The inescapable conclusion, however, was that
no matter what I had thought lovely Luanna was
like, we were worlds apart in our views of people
and how they should be treated.

Reaching into our petty cash drawer, I started
counting some coins.

"Tell you what, Luanna," I said, not looking up.
"You said you needed fifty to seventy-five in gold?
Well I'm going to give you a hundred and fifty . . .
double to triple what you asked for ... not as a
loan or an investment, just as a gift."

"But why would you ..."

". . . There are two conditions, though," I con-
tinued, as if she hadn't spoken. "First, that you
use some of the extra money for travel. Go off
dimension or to another part of Klah ... I don't

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

71

care. Just so long as when you start to run your
swindle, it's not in Possiltum."

"Okay, but . . ."

"And second," I said, setting the stack of coins
on the edge of the desk near her, "I want you to
promise that you will never see or speak to
me . . . ever again . . . starting now."

For a moment, I thought she was going to
speak. She opened her mouth, then hesitated,
shrugged, and shut it again. In complete silence
she gathered up the coins and left, shutting the
door behind her.

I poured myself another goblet of wine and
moved to the window, staring out at the view
without really seeing anything. Dreams die hard,
but whatever romantic thoughts I had ever had
involving Luanna had just been squashed pretty
thoroughly. I couldn't change that, but I could
mourn their passing.

There was a soft knock at the door, and my
heart took a sudden leap. Maybe she had changed
her mind! Maybe she had thought it over and
decided to return the money in favor of a legiti-
mate business loan!

"Come in," I called, trying not to sound to
eager.

The door opened, and a vampire walked in.

Chapter Seven:

"You just don't know women."
H. HEFNER

"WINE? No THANKS. Never touch the stuff."

"Oh. That's right. Sorry, Vie," I said, refilling
my own goblet.

"You know," my guest said, settling himself
more comfortably in his seat, "it's women like
Luanna that give vampires a bad name. They're
the ones who will mercilessly suck someone dry,
and the concept sort of slopped over onto us!"

In case you're wondering (or have neglected to
read the earlier books in this series), Vie is the one
who walked into my room at the end of the last
chapter, and yes he is a vampire. Actually, he's a
pretty nice guy . . . about my age and a fairly
successful magician in his own right. He just
happens to come from Limbo, a dimension that's
primarily "peopled" by vampires, werewolves,
and the like.

73

74

Robert Asprin

Apparently he had stopped by our office on
Deva looking to invite me out for lunch. When
Tananda, who was currently minding the fort for
us, told him where I was, he decided to pop over
for a visit. (As an aside, one of his Limbo-born
talents is the ability to travel the dimension
without mechanical aid . . . something I've al-
ways envied and wanted to learn.)

Truth to tell, I was more than a little glad to see
Vie. He was one of the few in my acquaintance
who was familiar with the trials and tribulations
of being a professional magician, yet wasn't an
actual member of our crew. Not meaning any
disrespect or criticism of my colleagues, mind
you, but . . . well . . . they were more like fam-
ily and my actions and future definitely affected
them, whereas Vie was a bit more able to stand
apart and view things objectively. This made it a
lot easier to express my feelings and problems to
him, which 1 had proceeded to do, starting with
Queen Hemlock's proposal and running it right
up through my recent rather disheartening meet-
ing with Luanna.

Until he brought it up, I had forgotten that he
had met Luanna. In fact, he had worked with her
and Matt, and consequently gone on the lam with
them . . . which was when I met him in the first
place. As such, he knew the lady under discussion
far better than I did, and my new analysis of her
seemed more in line with his earlier formed
opinions than with my own cherished daydreams.

"I can't say much about what you're doing with
the kingdom's budgets and stuff," the vampire
said with an easy shrug. "That's out of my league.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

75

It does occur to me, though, that you're having
more than your share of woman problems."

"You can say that again," I agreed, toasting him
with my goblet.

"I'll admit I'm a bit surprised," Vie continued.
"I would have thought that someone with your
experience would have been able to side-step
some of these tangles . . . and definitely spotted
a gold-digger like Luanna a mile away."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to level
with him.

"To be honest with you, Vie, I haven't had all
that much experience with women."

"Really?" The vampire was gratifyingly sur-
prised.

"Let's just say that while Aahz and the others
have been fairly diligent about teaching me the
ins and outs of business and magik, there have
been certain areas of my education that have been
woefully and annoyingly neglected."

"Now that I might be able to help you with."

"Excuse me?"

I had been momentarily lost in my own thoughts,
and had somehow missed a turn in the conversa-
tion.

"It's easy," Vie said with a shrug. "You're hav-
ing trouble making up your mind whether or not
you should get married at all ... much less to
Queen Hemlock. Right?"

"Well ..."

"Right?" he pressed.

"Right."

"To me, the problem is that you don't have

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

77

enough information to make an educated deci-
sion."

"You can say that again," I said heavily, gulping
at my wine. "What's more, between the workload
here and Queen Hemlock's timetable, I don't
figure I'm going to get any, either."

"That's where I think I can help you," my guest
smiled, leaning back in his chair again.

"Excuse me?" I said, fighting off the feeling that
our conversation was caught in an unending loop.

"What would you say to a blind date?"

That one caught me totally off guard.

"Well . . . the same thing I'd say to a date that
could see, I imagine," I managed at last. "The
trouble is, I haven't had any experience with
either ..."

"No, no," the vampire interrupted. "I mean,
How would you like me to fix you up with a date?
Someone you've never seen before?"

"That would have to be the case," I nodded. "I
don't recall ever having met a blind person . . .
male or female. Not that I've consciously avoided
them, mind you ..."

"Hold it! Stop!" Vie said, holding up one hand
while pressing the other to his forehead.

It occurred to me that, in that pose, he looked
more than a little like Aahz.

"Let's try this again . . . from the top. We were
talking about your needing more experience with
women. What I'm suggesting is that I line you up
with a date . . . someone I know ... so you
can get that experience. Got it?"

"Got it," I nodded. "You know someone who's

blind. Tell me, should I act any different around
her?"

"No. ... I mean, yes! NO!"

Vie seemed to be getting very worked up over
the subject, and more than a little confused . . .
which made two of us.

"Look, Skeeve," he said finally, through clenched
teeth. "The girl I'm thinking about is not blind.
She's perfectly normal. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, hesitantly, looking for the hook.
"A perfectly normal, average girl."

"Well . . . not all that normal, or average,",
the vampire smiled, relaxing a bit. "She's a lot of
fun ... if you get what I mean. And she's a real
looker . . . knock your eyes out beautiful."

"You mean I'll go blind?"

Out of my merciful nature and in the interest of
brevity (too late), I'll spare you the blow by blow
account of the rest of the conversation. Let it
suffice to say that, by the time Vie departed, it had
been established that he would arrange for me to
step out with a lovely lady of his acquain-
tance . . . one who was in full command of
her senses . . . sort of (that part still confused me a
little) . . . and who would not adversely affect my
health or senses, but would, if Vie were to be
believed, advance my education regarding the op-
posite sex to dizzying heights.

It sounded good to me. Like any healthy young
man, I had a normal interest in women . . .
which is to say I didn't think of them more than
three or four times a day. My lack of first hand
experience I attributed to a dearth of opportunity,
which apparently was about to be remedied. To

J

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Robert Asprin

say I was looking forward to my date would be an
understatement ... a VAST understatement.

However the events of the day weren't over yet.

There was a knock at the door, but this time I
wasn't going to get caught making any assump-
tions.

"Who is it?" I called.

"General Badaxe," came the muffled response.
"I was wondering if you could spare me a mo-
ment?"

I was more than a little surprised. The General
and I had never been on particularly good terms,
and it was rare if ever that he called on me in my
personal quarters. Casting about for an explana-
tion, it occurred to me that he was probably more
than a little upset at the cutbacks I had made in
the army and military budget. In the same thought,
it occurred to me that he might be out to murder
me in my own room ... or, at least, mess me up
a little. As fast as the idea surfaced, however, I
discarded it. Whatever else the General was, he
was as straightforward and non-scheming as any-
one I had ever met. If he meant to do me harm, it
would doubtless be on the spur of the moment
when we encountered each other in the halls or
courtyard of the castle . . . not by stealth in my
room. In short, I felt I could rule out premeditated
mayhem. If he were going to kill me, it would be
spontaneous ... a thought that didn't settle my
mind as much as I hoped it would.

"Come in," I called . . . and he did.

It was, indeed, the General of Possiltum's army,
and without his namesake massive axe, for a
change. Not that it's absence made him notice-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

79

ably less dangerous, mind you, as Badaxe was
easily the largest man I had ever met. Upon
viewing him, however, I was a bit embarrassed by
my original worries. Rather than the stern, angry
countenance I was accustomed to, he seemed
very ill at ease and uncomfortable.

"Sorry to interrupt your work, Lord Magician,"
he said, nervously looking about the room, "but I
find it necessary to speak to you on ... a per-
sonal matter."

"Certainly, General," I said, trying to put him
at his ease. Strangely, I found that his obvious
discomfort was making me uneasy. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, I'd rather stand."

So much for putting him at ease.

"As you wish," I nodded. "What is it you
wanted to see me about?"

I realized with some chagrin that I was falling
into a formal speech pattern, but found that I
couldn't help it. Badaxe seemed bound and deter-
mined to be somber, and I felt obligated to re-
spond in kind.

"Well ... I'd like to speak to you about your
apprentice."

"Aahz?" I said. As far as the kingdom was
concerned, Aahz was my loyal student.

"What's he done now?"

"No . . . not Aahz." the General clarified hast-
ily. "I was referring to Massha."

"Massha?" I blinked. This was truly a surprise.
As far as I knew, Massha and the General had
always gotten along fine. "Very well. What's the
problem?

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Lord Magician.

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Robert Asprin

There's no problem. Quite the contrary. I wanted
to speak to you taking her hand in marriage."

On a day of surprises, this announcement caught
me the most off guard.

"Why?" I sputtered, unable to think of any-
thing else to say.

The General's brow darkened noticeably.

"If you're referring to her less than slender
appearance, or perhaps the difference in our
age . . ."he began in a deep growl.

"No, you misunderstand me," I said hastily,
cutting him off ... though once he mentioned
them, both points were worth reflecting on. "I
meant, why should you want to speak to me
about such a matter?"

"Oh. That."

For the moment, at least, Badaxe seemed mol-
lified. I mentally made a note to table any discus-
sion of the two points he had raised until another
time.

"It's really rather simple, Lord Magician," the
General was continuing. "Though I suppose it's
rather old fashioned of me, I felt I should follow
proprieties and establish my good intentions by
stating them in advance. Normally I'd speak to
her father, but, in this case, you seem to be the
closest thing to a father she has."

Now I was truly flabbergasted. Mostly because,
try as I might, I couldn't find a hole in his logic.
He was right. Even though she was older than
me, Massha had never spoken of her family at
all ... much less a father. What was more, this
was one I couldn't even fob off on Aahz. Since she
was my apprentice, I was responsible for her care

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

81

and well-being as well as her training. If there was
anyone the General should speak to on matters
regarding Massha's future, it was me!

"I see," I said, stalling for time to think. "And
what does Massha have to say about this?"

"So far, I haven't spoken to her directly on the
subject," Badaxe admitted uneasily, "though I
have reason to believe the idea wouldn't be totally
unwelcome to her. Frankly, I felt that I should
attempt to gain your approval first."

"And why is that?"

I was getting better at this stalling game, and
questions were a handy weapon.

The General eyed me levelly.

"Come, come, Lord Magician," he said. "I
thought that we had long since agreed there was
no need to bandy words between us. You know as
well as I that Massha has a great deal of affection
for you. What's more, there is the added loyalty of
an apprentice to her teacher. While I have never
shied from either battle or competition, I would
prefer to spare her any unnecessary anguish. That
is, I feel it would aid my case immensely if, at the
same time I asked her to be my wife, I could state
that I had spoken with you and that you had no
personal or professional objections to such a match.
That is, of course, assuming you don't."

I was silent for a few moments, reflecting on
what he had said. Specifically, I was berating
myself for being so selfish in my thinking, of only
considering the consequences to me in my deci-
sion of whether or not to marry Queen Hemlock.
Even when I had been thinking of my friends and
colleagues, I had been looking at it in terms of my

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Robert Asprin

loss of their friendship, not what it might mean to
them.

"Then again, perhaps I was wrong in my as-
sumption."

The General's words interrupted my thoughts,
and I was suddenly aware that he had been
waiting for a response from me.

"Forgive me, General . . . Hugh," I said hastily.
I had to think quickly to recall his first name. "I
was simply lost in thought for a moment. Certainly
I have no objections. I've always held you in the
highest regard, and, if Massha is amenable, I
would be the last to stand between her and happi-
ness. Feel free to proceed with my approval . . .
and best wishes."

Badaxe seized my hand and pumped it hard . . .
unfortunately before I could pull it away in alarm.

"Thank you, Lord . . . Skeeve," he said with
an intensity I had only seen him express in battle
planning. "I ... Thank you."

Releasing my hand, he strode to the door,
opened it, then paused.

"Were it not for the fact that, assuming she
agrees, of course, I expect Massha will ask you to
give the bride away, I'd ask you to honor me by
standing as my best man."

Then he was gone . . . which was just as well,
as I had no idea what to say in response.

Massha and Badaxe. Married.

Try as I might, I couldn't get my mind around
the concept . . . which is a comment on the
limits of my imagination and NOT on their
respective physical sizes, individually or as a
twosome.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

83

Finally, I abandoned the effort completely. In-
stead, I poured myself another goblet of wine and
settled back for the far more pleasant exercise of
speculating on my own upcoming date.

Chapter Eight:

"Loue is blind. Lust isn't!"
D. GIOVANI

I FOUND MYSELF experiencing mixed feelings as I
prepared for my date that evening. On the one
hand, I wasn't real sure about how much fun it
would be spending an entire evening with a
woman I had never met before. While I had a
certain amount of faith in Vie not to stick me
with a real loser, it occurred to me that it would
be nice to have some vague idea of what she was
going to look like. Heck, if she turned out to be a
lousy conversationalist, the evening could still
turn out okay if she was at least fun to look at.

Despite my nagging concerns, however, there
was no denying I felt a certain measure of excite-
ment as the time drew near. As Vie had observed, I
didn't really have a lot of experience with dating.
Specifically, this was going to be my first date . . .
ever. Now don't get me wrong, I knew a fair
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Robert Asprin

number of women, but I had met all of them in
the course of business. Before I met Aahz, I had
been living alone with Garkin in a shack in the
woods . . . which is not the greatest way to
meet females. Since tying on with Aahz, my life
had gotten noticeably more exciting, but there
was little time for a social life. What off time I did
have was usually spent with other members of
our crew, and while they were good company for
the most part, it left little room for outsiders.
Consequently, the idea of spending an entire
evening with a strange woman just to be spend-
ing time together was a real treat . . . and more
than a little scary.

The one variable in the whole situation I could
control was me, and I was bound and determined
that if anything went wrong with the evening, it
wouldn't be because I hadn't put enough effort
into my preparations. Money was easy. While I
wasn't sure where we would be going, I figured
that two or three hundred in gold would cover our
expenses . . . though I made a note to bring
along my credit card from Perv just to be on the
safe side.

Wardrobe was another matter. After changing
my outfit completely a dozen times, I finally
settled on the same clothes I had worn when I had
my match with the Sen-Sen Ante Kid . . . the
dark maroon open-necked shirt with the charcoal
gray slacks and vest. I figured that if it had
impressed people on Deva, it should be impres-
sive no matter where we went. Of course, on
Deva, I had also been traveling with an entourage

SWEET MVTH-TERY OF LIFE

87

of bodyguards and assistants . . . not to mention
a quarter of a million in gold.

I was just considering changing my clothes one
more time, when there was a knock at the door.
This surprised me a little, as I had somehow
expected that my date would simply appear in the
room. As soon as that thought occurred to me,
however, it also occurred to me that there had
been an excellent chance that she would have
appeared while I was changing outfits. Slightly
relieved at having escaped a potentially embar-
rassing situation, I opened the door.

"Hi, Skeeve," Bunny said, sweeping past me
into the room. "I thought I'd stop by and brief you
on the latest budget developments and maybe do
dinner and . . . Hey! You look nice."

Needless to say, this was an unexpected . . .
and unpleasant . . . surprise.

"Urn . . . Actually I was just getting ready to
go out." I managed politely.

She took it well. In fact, she seemed to brighten
at the news.

"That's a great idea!" she said. "Hang on a few
and I'll duck back to my room and change and we
can go out together!"

"Urn . . . Bunny . . ."

"To tell you the truth, I've been starting to go
up the walls a little myself. It'll be wonderful to
get out for a while, especially with you, and ..."

"BUNNY!"

She stopped and cocked her head at me.

"What is it, Skeeve?"

"I ... actually . . . well . . . I have a date."

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Robert Asprin

The words hung in the air as she stared at me
with eyes that had suddenly gotten very large.

"Oh," she said finally in a small voice. "I ...
Then I guess I'd better be moving along."

"Wait a minute, Bunny," I said, catching her as
she started for the door. "Maybe tomorrow we
can . . ."

There was a soft bampf in the room behind us,
and we turned to discover that my date had
arrived ... at least, I assumed she was my date.
I could think of no other reason for a creature
appearing in my room that looked like that.

She was pale, even paler than Queen Hemlock,
which only served to accent the deep red lipstick
she wore. She was short, though her hair nearly
made up for it as it rose from the top of her head
in a thick dark wave before cascading all the way
down her back well past her rump. Her body was
heart-stopping, abundant to the point of exaggera-
tion on top, narrowing to an unbelievably tiny
waist before flaring into her tidy hips. It would
have been noticeable in any situation, but her
dress made sure it wouldn't be overlooked.

It was sparkly black, and hugged her curves like
it was tattooed on. The neckline plunged daringly
nearly to her navel, actually lower than the slit up
the side of her dress, which in turn displayed one
of the shapeliest legs it's ever been my privilege to
view first hand. To say the least it was a revealing
outfit, and most of what it revealed was delec-
table.

About the only thing that wasn't visible or
easily imaginable were her eyes, which were
hidden by a pair of cats-eye sunglasses. As if in

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

89

response to my thoughts, she removed them with
a careless, graceful motion, setting them carefully
atop her hairdo. I would have watched the action
more carefully if I hadn't been staring at her eyes.
It wasn't the heavy purple eye shadow that held
my attention, it was the fact that the whites of
her eyes were, in fact, blood red.

My date was a vampire.

I guess I should have expected it. I mean, what
with Vie being a vampire, it was only predictable
that he would line me up with another vampire
for a date. It just hadn't been predicted by me!

"Hi!" the vision of loveliness smiled, showing a
pair of sharp canine teeth. "I'm Cassandra. You
must be Vic's friend."

"Good God!" Bunny said, the words escaping
from her in a gasp as she stared at my visitor.

"And who's this?" Cassandra said, sweeping
Bunny with a withering gaze. "The warm-up act?
You must be quite a tiger to book two dates, one
after the other ... or is she coming along with
us?"

"Cassandra, this is Bunny . . . my administra-
tive assistant," I intervened hastily. "We were
just going over some office matters."

This seemed to mollify Cassandra somewhat.
At least enough so that she stepped forward and
coiled around my arm, pressing close against me.
Very close.

"Well, don't wait up for him, Sugar," she said
with a wink. "I figure on keeping him up for a
long time ... if you get what I mean."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Chumley had once tried to describe something

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Robert Asprin

called "dry ice" to me. At the time, I had trouble
imagining something cold enough to burn. Bun-
ny's tone and manner as she spun on her heel and
marched out of the room went a long way toward
clarifying the concept for me. I might not be the
most perceptive person in all the dimensions
when it comes to women, but it didn't take a real
genius to realize that she didn't approve of my
choice of dates . . . even though I hadn't really
made the choice.

"Alone at last," Cassandra purred, pressing
even closer against me. "Tell me, Tiger, what are
your thoughts for the evening?"

As I said, I hadn't really settled on anything.
Still, I had an overwhelming urge to get this
particular bombshell out of the castle, or, at least,
out of my bedroom, and as far away from Bunny
as possible.

"I don't know," I said. "I was thinking of maybe
doing dinner or getting a couple of drinks and
kind of letting the evening take care of itself."

"Sounds good to me," my date declared, giving
a little shiver that seemed to take her entire body.
"Are there any good clubs on this dimension?"

It only took me a second to realize she was
talking about nightclubs, not the kind of club you
beat people across the head with. I DO catch on
eventually.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "My work doesn't
leave me much time to check out the nightlife."

"Hey! When it comes to nightlife, I'm your girl.
I know some GREAT places over on Limbo."

Limbo! The dimension of werewolves and vam-

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91

pires. I had only been there once, and the memory
wasn't all that pleasant.

"Urn, I'd rather not if you don't mind."
"Really? Why not?"

"Well ... if you must know, my dimension
traveling skills aren't all they could be," I said,
blurting out the first thing that came into my
mind. Actually, my ability to travel the dimen-
sions without the mechanical aid of a D-Hopper
was non-existent, but I saw no need to be too
honest.

"If that's the only hitch, no problem," Cassan-
dra said. "Just leave the driving to me, Tiger."

So saying, she hooked one arm in mine, did
something I couldn't see with her other hand,
and, before I had the chance to protest further, we
were there!

Now, for those of you who have never been
there (which, I assume, includes most of my
readers), Limbo isn't much of a dimension to look
at. That is, it's hard to see much of anything
because it's DARK. Now, I don't mean "dark," I
mean DARK!! Even when the sun is up, which
it currently wasn't, it doesn't push much light
through the perpetually overcast sky. Then, too, the
predominant color of the architecture, roads, etc.
is black, which does nothing toward brightening
up the landscape. That in itself might make
things look bleak, but when you added in the
decorative flourishes the place looked positively
grim.

Everywhere you looked there were gargoyles,
dragons, and snakes . . . stone ones, fortunately . ..
peering back at you from rooftops, balconies, and

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window ledges. Normally I don't mind such crea-
tures. Heck, as you know I have a dragon of my
own, and Gus is one of my best friends even though
he is a gargoyle. It should be noted, however, that
those individuals manage to maintain their rela-
tionship with me without constantly displaying
their teeth in bloodthirsty glee, a courtesy which
their stone counterparts here in Limbo did NOT
extend.

Then, too, there were the bats.

For every one of the aforementioned frightful
creatures, there must have been ten or twenty
bat decorations on display. They came in all
sizes, shapes, and poses, and seemed to have only
one characteristic in common . . . none of them
looked friendly. It was an unnerving reminder
that a goodly proportion of the dimension's inhab-
itants were vampires.

"Umm ... Is this Blut, by any chance?" I
said, ostensively studying the buildings around us
while, in actuality, sneaking sideways peeks at
Cassandra, trying to get another peek at her teeth.

"As a matter of fact, it is!" my date confirmed.
"Don't tell me you've heard of it?"

"Actually, I've been here before."

"Really? That's strange . . . but then again, Vie
did say that you were better traveled and informed
than most off-worlders." Cassandra seemed genu-
inely impressed. "So, what did you think of the
place?"

"I didn't really get to see much of it," I admit-
ted. "I was sort of here on business and didn't
have much time for socializing or sightseeing."

Again, this was a bit of an understatement. I

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93

had been here trying to bust Aahz out of jail
before they executed him for murder. It occurred
to me, however, that it might not be wise to go
into too many details of my previous visit. Fortu-
nately, I needn't have worried.

"Well we can fix that right now," Cassandra
declared, grabbing my hand and pulling me along
behind her as she started off. "There's a little club
around the corner here that's all the rage cur-
rently. It's as good a place as any to start our
expedition."

"Wait a minute," I said, digging in my heels a
bit. "What about me? I mean, if I recall correctly,
off-worlders in general and humans specifically
aren't all that welcome here. In fact, don't most
vampires consider us humans to be monsters?"

"Oh, that's just the superstitious old fuddy-
duddies," my date insisted, continuing to tow me
along. "The kind of folks that hang out at the
clubs are pretty open-minded. You'll see."

Somehow, the phrase "pretty open-minded"
didn't suffice to calm all my fears. I was all too
aware that I was a long way from home with no
independent means to get back there if anything
went wrong and I got separated from my date. Just
to be on the safe side, I started casting about for
force lines . . . the energy source I was trained to
tap into for my magik. Limbo was notoriously
short on them, which had caused me no small
amount of problems during my last visit, and if I
was going to have to do anything on "reserve
power," I'd be wise to start mustering it well in
advance of any trouble.

94	Robert Asprin

"There it is now!" Cassandra chirped, inter-
rupting my concentration.

The place she had selected was easy to spot. It
had a line of customers out front that stretched to
the corner and around it. It also, however, had a
strong force line running right over it, which
made me much more willing to agree to it as a
relaxing stop on our tour.

"Darn it!" my date said, slowing slightly. "I
was afraid this would happen, what with us
showing up so late atid all. How are you fixed for
cash, Tiger? A little palm grease could cut our
wait time a bit."

"Well, all I have is a couple hundred in gold," I
said hesitantly. "If that's not enough, we can
always ..."

"Whoa!" Cassandra stopped in her tracks. "Did
you say a couple hundred!"

"That's right," I nodded, letting go of her hand
to reach for my belt pouch. "I wasn't sure how
much ..."

"Don't show it around here!" my date gasped,
quickly stopping my hand with her own. "Geez!
Do you want to get mugged? What are you doing,
carrying your whole bankroll around with you?
Don't you believe in banks?"

"Sure I do," I said, a little hurt. "This is just
mad money. I wasn't sure how much this evening
was going to cost, so I brought a long a couple
hundred . . . that and a credit card."

"Really?" she said, obviously impressed. "How
much do you . . . never mind. None of my busi-
ness. Vie never said you were rich, though. I've

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

95

never even known someone with a credit card
before."

I had only recently acquired my credit card
while looking for Aahz on Perv, and hadn't had a
chance to use it yet. (Frankly, except for a few
dimension travelers like my colleagues and me, I
don't think anyone on my home dimension of
Klah has even heard of a credit card. I know I
hadn't until I hit Perv.) If anything, I had tended to
down play it, since it seemed to upset Aahz. My
partner wasn't here, though, and my impression-
able date was. If nothing else over the years, I've
learned to go with the flow.

"Oh, it comes in handy," I said loftily, produc-
ing the item under discussion with a flourish.
"Keeps me from having to carry too much cash,
you know."

The card disappeared from my fingertips as
Cassandra seized it and gaped at it in open awe.

"A solid gold card!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
"Wow! You sure know how to show a girl a good
time, Tiger. Are we going to party tonight!!"

Before I could stop her, she had grabbed my
hand again and plunged into the crowd, holding
the card aloft like a banner.

"Excuse us! Coming through!"

The people in line who we were elbowing our
way past didn't like it. A few went so far as to bare
their fangs in annoyance. The card seemed to
have some magik effect, though, because, after
one glance, they all stepped back and cleared a
passage for us ... or, rather, for Cassandra. I just
trailed along in her wake.

There was a velvet rope barring the door, and a

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Robert Asprin

big guy beside it whose only function seemed to
be to admit people a few at a time as others
left . . . that, and be intimidating. I mean, he was
BIG . . . and that's coming from someone who
has his own bodyguards. As soon as he spotted the
card, however, he snatched the rope from the
door, shoving a few of the line people back to open
a path for us, and actually tried to twist his
features into a smile as we swept past.

It was occurring to me that there might be more
to this credit card business than I imagined. This
didn't seem to be the time to ask, however, and a
moment later we were in the club . . . and I lost
all ability to think of anything else.

Chapter Nine;

"I hue the mghtiife."
V. DRACULA

I DON'T KNOW what I had expected for the interior
of a vampire nightclub, probably because it never
occurred to me that I might visit one someday,
but this definitely wasn't it.

First and foremost, it was bright. I don't mean
bright, I mean BRIGHT!!!

The lighting level was so intense the glare was
almost blinding, particularly coming in from the
darkness outside. Even squinting, it was so bright
I could barely make out the features of the room
and even had to grope a bit to keep from tripping
over things.

"Whatdaya think?" Cassandra shouted over
the music as she clung to my arm.

"Hard to tell!" I called back. "It's kinda bright!"

"I know! Isn't it great!" she said, flashing a
smile that shone through the light. "Real spooky,
isn't it?"

97

98

Robert Asprin

For some reason, that made sense. In fact,
suddenly the whole club did. Humans were pri-
marily daylight lovers. When they wanted to feel
daring or be scared, they went to dark places.
Vampires on the other hand, normally tended to
shun the light. As such, I supposed it was only
natural that a place lit up like a flare would be
scary to them.

"Oh, it's not too bad . . . once your eyes adjust
to it," I said loftily.

It was the truth. My eyes were slowly getting
used to the glare, allowing me to look around the
place.

What it lacked in size, it made up for in noise
and customers.

What seemed like hundreds of people were
packed around an expanse of tiny tables, each
table having a small umbrella to provide limited
relief from the bright lights like . . . well, like
candles on tables in a dark room back where I
came from.

The only portion that seemed even more
crowded than the tables was a small space I took
for a dance floor. I made this assumption based on
the fact that the customers packed in there cheek
to jowl were all moving rhythmically in unison to
the music which was blaring through the place at
a volume level to match the Big Game. I couldn't
see a source for the music, unless it was from the
one weird-looking guy who was ensconced be-
hind a table overlooking the dance floor. Every so
often, there would be a break in the music and he
would shout something, whereupon the crowd
would shout back at him and a new tune would

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99

start. From this, I guessed that he had something
to do with the entertainment, but exactly what I
couldn't be sure, as there was no sign of an
instrument. Just stacks and stacks of shiny discs
he kept feeding into a machine in front of him.

The music itself was beyond description . . .
unless that description is "loud." Mostly, it
sounded like jarring crashes of noise repeated
endlessly to a driving beat. I mentioned that there
would be pauses and new tunes, but in truth they
seemed remarkably alike to me. I mean, whether
one is repeatedly hitting a sackful of tin cans or a
sackful of pots and kettles, or alternating between
the two, the overall sound effect is the same for
all intents and purposes. The crowd seemed to
enjoy it, though, or, at least, it was sufficient to
keep them cheering and gyrating with apparently
limitless energy.

With all the noise and activity that was going
on, I was almost surprised that I managed to
notice the decorations hanging on the walls. Per-
haps they caught my eye with their sheer incon-
gruity.

There were strings of garlic fake, to look at
it as well as vials of water and strings of beads,
all marked with various religious symbols. Not
exactly what I'd pick to have around while I was
trying to relax ... if I were a vampire. Then
again, the objective of the place didn't seem to be
to provide relaxation.

"Interesting decor," I said, still looking at the
stuff on the walls. "What's the name of this place,
anyway?"

"It's called The Wooden Stake," Cassandra sup-

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Robert Asprin

plied, giving a mock shudder as she hugged my
arm even tighter. "Isn't it a gas?"

"Uh-huh," I managed noncommittally.

Actually, her little shudder was quite distract-
ing . . . particularly crowded as close to me as
she was.

"Quite a crowd here," I added, forcibly pulling
my eyes away from her to look around again.

"I told you it was the hottest club around," she
said, giving my arm a small shake. "Look. Every-
body's here."

If it seems that I've been dwelling on the
physical description of the club, it's because
I've been hesitant to tackle the job of describing
the patrons. They were like something out of
your worse nightmare . . . literally.

As might be expected, there were vampires. If
their red eyes and flashy clothes didn't give them
away, there was always the minor detail that they
tended to float above the dance floor and along
the ceiling to get away from the crush of the other
dancers.

The list didn't stop there, however.

There were 'weres' around. Not just werewolves,
but were-tigers, were-bears, and were-snakes as
well. There were also mummies, lizard men, a
night-shambler or two, and even a couple ghosts.
At least, you could see through them so I sup-
posed they were ghosts.

Just your average, run of the mill, neighborhood
bar crowd ... if your neighborhood happens to
be the intersection of half a dozen horror movies.

"I don't see the Woof Writers anywhere," I said,
just to be cantankerous. I didn't know many

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101

people here on Limbo, but the few I knew weren't
here, so obviously everybody wasn't in atten-
dance.

"Oh, Idnew is probably around somewhere,"
Cassandra said absently, scanning the crowd.
"Don't expect to see Drachir, though. He's usu-
ally holed up somewhere quieter talking business
or . . ."

She broke off suddenly and looked at me sharply.

"You know the Woof Writers?"

"Like I said/' I smiled, squeezing her arm for a
change. "I've been on Limbo before."

"Look! There's a table!" She grabbed my wrist
and took off through the crowd, towing me along
behind. If I had been hoping to impress her, I'd
have to work more on my timing.

We barely beat out a vampire couple for the
table, who favored us with dark glares before con-
tinuing their search. I watched their departure
with a vague sense of relief. I really didn't want to
get into a fight tonight . . . and especially not
here in The Wooden Stake. I hadn't felt so much
like an outsider since I returned from Perv.

The view from our table was notably much
more restricted than the one we had when we
were standing, due to the crush of people around
us. The only real advantage to having a table, that
I could see, was that we didn't have to hold our
drinks . . . except we didn't have any drinks.

"What'll you have?"

For a moment, I thought the question had come
telepathically in answer to my thoughts. Then I
realized there was a ghost hovering next to me,
nearly translucent, but carrying a solid enough

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Robert Asprin

tray. I supposed it made sense. A ghost to pass
ethereally through the crowds, and a solid tray to
carry the drinks on. Maybe if other bars and
restaurants used the same idea, service would be
faster.

"Hi, Marley. I'll have a Bloody Mary," Cassan-
dra said. "What do you want, Tiger?"

I'll spare you the image which my mind came
up with to associate with the name of her ordered
drink. While I knew from my earlier visits that
vampires don't necessarily drink human blood
exclusively, the idea of imbibing any kind of
blood was pretty low on my list for taste treats.

"Urn . . . What all do they have?" I stalled.
"I'm pretty much just used to wine."

"Don't worry, it's a full service bar," she in-
formed me brightly. "They've got pretty much . . .
Oh! I get it!"

She threw back her head and laughed, then gave
my arm a playful slap.

"Don't get uptight, Tiger. They do have drinks
for off-worlders."

Again I was relieved, but at the same time, I
wasn't wild about being laughed at. I seemed to be
losing ground in the "impress your date" depart-
ment.

"No, I'm serious, Cassandra/' I said. "I really
don't have much experience drinking except for
wine."

"Hey. No problem. I'll order for you."

That wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but she
had turned to our waiter before I could stop her.

"Bring him a Bloody Mary, too, Marley. A
regular one, not the local version," she said. "Oh,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

103

and we'll be running a tab. Here's his credit card
so you can make an imprint."

The waiter accepted the card without batting
an eye . . . apparently waiters are harder to im-
press with credit cards than doormen . . . and
moved off through the crowd. And I do mean
through the crowd.

Truth to tell, I had been so busy ogling the club,
I had completely forgotten that Cassandra still
had my card until she handed it to the waiter.
Inexperienced though I was with credit cards, I
was aware that losing track of one's card is not the
wisest idea, and I resolved to reclaim it when the
waiter brought it back.

In the meantime, there was one minor matter I
wanted to take care of ... to wit, my outfit.

As you may recall, I spent a certain amount of
time choosing my ensemble for this date, but that
was before I knew we were headed for Limbo. The
clothes I was wearing were fine for Klah, or even
Deva, but here on Limbo they were conservative
to the point of looking drab. Normally, I wouldn't
squander my magik on something so trivial, par-
ticularly on Limbo, but I had already scouted a
strong force line directly over the club and . . .
what the heck, I was still trying to impress my
date.

At the moment, she was busy chatting with
some friends of hers who had stopped by the
table, so I figured now was as good a time as any.
Closing my eyes, I went to work on my outfit
courtesy of my good old trusty standby . . . the
disguise spell.

Since I wasn't really all that dissatisfied with

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Robert Asprin

the outfit I was wearing, I didn't go for any radical
change, just a few adjustments here and there. I
deepened the neckline on both my shirt and vest
to show a bit more of my chest . . . such as it
was. Then I lengthened the points of my collar
and added a bit more drape to the sleeves to be
more in line with some of the more billowy
outfits the other men in the club were wearing.
As a final touch, I added a sparkly undertone to my
shirt so that it would match my date's dress . . .
in texture, at least.

Like I said, not much of a change. Just enough
so I wouldn't look dowdy sitting in a club with
flashy vampires. I couldn't see the changes my-
self, of course, which is one of the few drawbacks
of a disguise spell, but I had enough confidence in
this, one of my oldest spells, to know it was
effective. I knew my date would be able to see the
changes. The only question was, would she no-
tice?

I needn't have worried.

Not that she noticed right away, mind you.
Cassandra's friends had moved on, but she was
still quite busy waving and calling to others in the
crowd. Apparently she was quite a popular young
lady. Not surprising, really.

The fun started when the waiter brought our
drinks to the table. Setting them them carefully
in front of us, he leaned over to speak directly into
my ear.

"This first round is compliments of the man-
ager, sir," he said, with notably more deference
than he had shown when taking the order origi-
nally. "He asked me to tell you he's honored

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

105

you're visiting our club, and hopes you enjoy it
enough to make it a regular stop."

"What?" I said, genuinely taken aback. "I don't
understand."

"/ said, the manager ..." the ghost started to
repeat, but I cut him off.

"No. I mean, why is he buying us a round of
drinks?"

"He saw your name on the credit card," the
ghost said, handing the item in question back to
me. "I didn't recognize you on sight, myself . . .
I hope you aren't offended."

"No. It's . . . no. No offense," I managed, still
trying to figure out what was going on.

"What was that all about?" Cassandra said,
leaning close again. She had noticed my conver-
sation with the waiter, but hadn't been able to
hear the exact words over the music.

"It's nothing," I explained. "The manager just
bought us a round of drinks."

"Really?" she frowned. "That's odd. They don't
usually do that here ... at least, not for the first
round. I wonder who's on duty?"

She started craning her neck trying to get a
clear look at the bar. While she was doing that, I
turned my attention to our drinks.

They appeared innocent enough. Basically an
opaque red fluid over ice cubes with some kind of
greenery sticking out of it. Hers was a darker red
than mine, but aside from that, they looked the
same. Cautiously, I took a sip ... and discov-
ered, to my relief, it tasted sort of like tomato
juice.

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Robert Asprin

"Hey! This is pretty good," I declared. "What's
in it, anyway?"

"Hmm?" Cassandra said, turning her attention
to me again. "Oh. Yours is just tomato juice and
vodka."

I didn't know what vodka was, but tomato juice
I could handle. The first sip had reminded me
how thirsty I was after all our running around, so
I downed most of the glass with my next swallow.

"Hey! Take it easy, Tiger," my date admon-
ished. "Those things can pack a wallop if you
aren't used to them . . . and it can leave a stain,
so don't drip any on your ..."

She stopped in mid-sentence and stared at my
outfit.

"Say. Weren't you wearing a different shirt
before?"

"Oh, it's the same shirt," I said, as casually as I
could. "I just changed it a little bit. I think this is
more appropriate for this place, don't you?"

"But how could you ... I get it! Magik!"

Her reaction was everything 1 could have hoped
for ... except she wasn't done.

"Wait a minute. You're a friend of Vic's from
Klah, and you know magik . . . right?" she said,
eagerly. "Do you know a magician there named
the Great Skeeve?"

This really surprised me, but the pieces were
starting to fall into place. The picture was incred-
ible, but I managed to keep my cool.

"As a matter of fact, I know him rather well," I
said with a faint smile.

"Whatdaya know!" Cassandra declared, slap-
ping the table with her palm. "I thought Vie was

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107

just trying to impress me when he said he knew
him. Tell me, what's he like?"

That one threw me.

"Vie? He's a nice enough guy. I thought you . . ."

"No, silly. I mean Skeeve! What's he like as a
person?"

This was just getting better.

"Oh, he's a lot like me," I said. "I'm just
surprised you heard of him."

"You've got to be kidding!" she declared, rolling
her eyes. "He's about the hottest thing going as
far as magicians go. Everybody's talking about
him. You know, he engineered a jailbreak right
here on Limbo!"

"I think I heard about that," I admitted.

"And just a while back, he got barred from the
Dimension of Perv. Can you believe that? Perv?"

"It was a bum rap," I grimaced.

"So you really do know him! Come on, tell me
more. When you say he's like you, do you mean
he's young or what?"

As much fun as this was, I figured it was time to
stop before it got out of hand.

"Cassandra," I said, carefully. "Watch my lips.
He's a lot like me. Get it?"

She frowned, then shook her head.

"No. I don't. You make it sound like you're
twins or something. Either that, or . . ."

She suddenly stared at me, her eye's widening.

"Oh, no," she gasped. "You don't mean
you're . . ."

I held my credit card up in front of her so she
could read the name on it, then favored her with
my widest smile.

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

109

"Oh no!" she shrieked, loud enough to draw
attention from the neighboring tables. "You're
him!!! Why didn't you tell me!!"

"You never asked," I shrugged. "Actually, I
thought that Vie ..."

But by that time, I was speaking to her
back ... or, to be more specific, her rump. She
was on her feet calling triumphantly to the other
patrons.

"Hey, everybody! You know who this is! This is
SKEEVE THE GREAT!!!"

Now, at different times, various people have
tried to tell me that I was building a rep through
the dimensions. Most recently, Bunny had brought
it up when explaining how she set the prices for
the services of M.Y.T.H. Inc. I guess I was sort of
aware of it, and had even kind of accepted it, but
for the most part I didn't really see where it made
any difference in my normal day to day life.
Sitting in The Wooden Stake in the dimension of
Limbo, however, was not part of my normal day
to day life . . . and neither was the reaction of
the crowd when it learned who r was.

At first, heads turned, then drew together in
whispered conversation as the whole room stared
at me as if I had grown another head.

"I hope I didn't embarrass you, Skeeve . . . can
I call you Skeeve? . . . but I'm just so excited."
Cassandra was back in her seat, focusing all her
attention on me. "Imagine, me out on a date with
the Great Skeeve!"

"Umm . . . that's all right, Cassandra," I as-
sured her, but now my attention was elsewhere.

Over her shoulder . . . heck, from all around
us ... I could see people starting to make their

way towards our table. Now, as I've mentioned,
I've been chased by mobs before, but never start-
ing surrounded! Still, they didn't look particularly
hostile or angry. If anything, they all seemed
to have exaggerated smiles on their faces . . .
which considering the array of teeth in the room,
wasn't all that pleasant to behold.

"Excuse me, Cassandra," I said, eyeing the
incoming people, "but I drink ... I mean, I
think we're about to have company."

The slip of the tongue was because I had just
tried to take another sip of my drink, only to find
the glass was empty except for the ice cubes . . .
strange, because I didn't remember finishing it.
Then the first person reached the table.

It was a male vampire, all decked out in a fine
set of evening clothes which he wore with envi-
able grace.

"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Skeeve," he
said with a smile, "but I wanted to shake your
hand. Always wanted to meet you, but never
thought I'd get the opportunity."

"Uh, sure," I said, but he had already seized my
hand and was pumping away.

"I was wondering . . . could I have your auto-
graph?" a young lady said, trying to edge around
the first gentleman.

"What? I suppose so ..."

Unfortunately I couldn't seem to get my hand
loose from the vampire who was still shaking it,
though he seemed to be looking elsewhere at the
moment.

"Hey!  Waiter!" I heard him call.   "Another

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Robert Asprin

round of whatever Mr. Skeeve and his guest are
drinking . . . and put it on my tab!"

"Umm . . . thank you," I said, extracting my
hand and turning to the girl who had asked for an
autograph. "Do you have a pen?"

"Gosh no!" she exclaimed. "But I'll go get one.
Don't go away, I'll be right back."

I really didn't know what to think. I had been
nervous about coming back to Limbo because of
my near criminal activities during my last visit,
and here they were treating me like a celebrity!

"Mr. Skeeve. If you don't mind. It's for my little

girl."

This last was from a were-tiger who thrust both
paper and pen at me. Fortunately, after the last
visitor, I knew what he was after, and hastily
scribbled my signature on the page.

Our ghost waiter materialized through the grow-
ing crowd and set our drinks on the table . . .
except there were three of them! From the color,
one for Cassandra, and two for me.

"What's with the extra?" I said.

"Compliments of the table over there, sir," the
waiter said, pointing somewhere off to my left.

I tried to look where he was indicating, and
almost put my nose in the navel of another young
lady who was crowding up beside me. Actually,
she was one of three, any one of whom would be
eye-catching under normal circumstances, but
were just part of the crowd here.

"Where are you going from here, Mr. Skeeve?"
the taller one purred. "There's going to be a party
at our place later if you want to come by."

"Wipe your chin, Sweetheart," Cassandra smiled,

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

111

slipping her arm around my shoulder. "He's my
date . . . and I plan to keep him busy all night."

That had an intriguing sound to it, but just then
someone else started tugging on my sleeve.

"Excuse me, Mr. Skeeve," said an awesome set
of teeth from a point too close to focus on. "I was
wondering if I might interview you sometime at
your convenience?"

"Well . . . I'm kind of busy right now, "I hedged,
trying to lean back far enough to get a better look at
my questioner . . . which unfortunately pressed
the back of my head up against one of the party
girls.

"Oh, I don't mean now," the teeth said, match-
ing my retreat with a move forward so I still
couldn't see what or who was talking. "If you can
stop by our table over there later, we'll set up an
appointment. I'll have a drink waiting for you . . .
Bloody Mary, right?"

"Right. I mean, okay. But . . ."

But by that time the person was gone. I only
hoped that they'd recognize me if I got into the
general vicinity. Right now, my attention was
caught by the fact that whoever I was pressing
backward against was now pressing forward against
the back of my head ... far too insistently for it to
be an accident.

"Say, Skeeve," Cassandra said, giving me an
excuse to break contact, which I took, pausing
only to take a gulp of my drink before I leaned
toward her.

"Yes, Cassandra?"

"If you don't mind, can we head out of here
after you finish your drink? There are a couple

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Robert Asprin

other places I'd like to hit tonight . . . you know,
to show you off a little?"

"No problem/' I said, "but it might take a
while."

Somehow, during the last flurry of discussions,
my two drinks had multiplied into four.

"Oh, I'm in no hurry/' she said, giving me a
quick kiss. "I know you've got to deal with some
of these people now that they know who you are.
It goes with the notoriety. It may be old hat to
you, but I'm having a blast!"

To say the least, it wasn't old hat to me. Maybe
if it was, I would have handled it better.

I remember signing my name a lot ... and
some more drinks being delivered . . . and kiss-
ing Cassandra . . . and, I think, another club . . .
or two other clubs . . . and more drinks . . .

Chapter Ten:

"Happiness is defined by one's capac-
ity for enjoyment."

BACCHUS

OPENING MY EYES, I suffered a brief moment of
disorientation, then things started swimming into
focus.

I was in my room ... in my own bed, to be
specific, though the covers seemed to be twisted
and disheveled. I was naked under the covers,
though I had no recollection of getting undressed.
I assumed it was morning, as there was sunlight
streaming through the window. In short, every-
thing looked normal.

So why did I feel there was something wrong?

I was lying on my side, and I realized my
sinuses had flooded, making it impossible to
breathe out of the nostril on the "downhill" side.
In an effort to alleviate this situation, I rolled over
and . . .

It hit me!!!

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Robert Asprin

A pounding headache ... a nauseous stom-
ach . . . the works!

There had been times in the past when I had
gotten sick, but nothing like this! At first I was
afraid I was going to die. Then I was afraid I'd live.
Misery such as I was feeling should have a finite
end.

Groaning slightly and burrowing into my pil-
low, I tried to gather my thoughts.

What was going on here? What happened to
make me feel . . .

Suddenly, the memory of the previous night
flashed across my mind ... or, at least, the
beginning of it.

The blind date . . . The Wooden Stake . . .
the admiring crowds . . . Cassandra!

I sat bolt upright and . . .

Big mistake. BIG mistake.

Every pain and queasiness I had been feeling
slammed into me threefold. With a moan, I fell
limply back onto my pillow heedless of the new
unpleasant sensations this move caused. You could
only feel so miserable, and I had bottomed out.
Nothing could make me feel worse. Forget any
effort at rational thought. I was just going to lie
there until my head cleared or I died . . . which-
ever came first.

A knock sounded at the door.

Disoriented as I was, I had no difficulty decid-
ing what to do: I was going to ignore it. I was
certainly in no condition to see or talk to anyone!

The knock came again, a little louder this time.

"Skeeve? Are you awake?"

It was Bunny's voice. From what I could recall

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

115

of the beginning of last evening, I really didn't
want to talk to her right now. All I needed to
make my misery complete was to have her carp-
ing on me about my taste in dates.

"Go away!" I called, not even bothering to try
to make it sound polite.

As soon as I uttered the words, however, I
realized I would have been better off just staying
quiet. Not only had the effort increased the pound-
ing in my head, I had inadvertently let her know I
was awake.

As if in response to my afterthought, the door
opened and Bunny came in, a big tray of food in
her hands.

"When I didn't see you at breakfast or at lunch,
I figured you might be a little worse for wear from
last night," she said crisply, setting the tray on
my desk. "I had the kitchen put together a tray for
you to help you back to the land of the living."

Food was definitely low on my list of priorities
at the moment. If anything, I was more concerned
with things going the other way through my
digestive tract. It did however, suddenly occur to
me that I was thirsty. In fact, VERY thirsty.

"Have you got any juice on that tray?" I man-
aged weakly, not wanting to sit up far enough to
look myself.

"Do you want orange or tomato?"

The mention of tomato juice brought memories
of last night's Bloody Marys to mind, and my
stomach did a slow roll and dip to the left.

"Orange will be fine," I said through gritted
teeth, trying hard to talk, keep my mouth shut,
and swallow at the same time.

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Robert Asprin

She favored me with a speculative glance.

"Well, it wasn't Screwdrivers or Mimosas."

"Excuse me?"

"Never mind. Orange juice, coming up."

I could have done without the "coming up"
comment, but the juice tasted fine. I downed it in
two long swallows. Strangely enough, it left me
even more thirsty. Not that the juice wasn't a
welcome input of cool moisture, but it made me
realize just how dehydrated I was.

"Any more of that?" I said hopefully.

"Got a whole pitcher here," Bunny replied,
gesturing toward the tray. "I had a hunch you
were going to need more than one glass. Take it
slow, though. I don't think it would be a good idea
to gulp down a lot of cold liquid just yet."

I resisted the urge to grab the entire pitcher
from her, and instead simply held out my glass for
a refill. With a major effort, I did my best to
comply with her suggestion and sipped it slowly.
It lasted a little longer that way, and did seem to
have a greater effect.

"That's better," she said, refilling the glass
again without being asked. "So. Did you have a
good time last night?"

I paused in mid-sip, trying to force my brain to
function.

"To be honest with you, Bunny, I don't know,"
I admitted at last.

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"What I remember was okay," I said, "but after
a certain point in the evening, everything's a
blank. I'm not even sure exactly when that point

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

117

was, for that matter. Things are a bit jumbled in
my mind still."

"I see."

For a moment, Bunny seemed about to say
something else, but instead she pursed her lips
and wandered over to the window where she
stood staring out.

My head was clearing now, to a point where I
felt almost alive, and I decided it was time to try
to set things right.

"Um . . . Bunny? About last night . . . I'm
sorry I left you standing like that, but Vie had set
up the date for me, and there was no real way to
back out gracefully."

"Of course, the fact that she was quite a dish
had nothing to do with it," Bunny commented
with a grimace.

"Well ..."

"Don't worry about it, Skeeve," she said quickly,
waving off my reply. "That's not what's bothering
me, anyway."

"What is?"

She turned to face me, leaning back on the
windowsill.

"It's the same thing that's been bothering me
ever since I arrived for this assignment," she said.
"I haven't wanted to say anything, because it's
really none of my business. But if what you say
about last night is true ..."

She broke off, biting her lip slightly.

"Go on," I said.

"Well . . . Simply put, I think you're develop-
ing a drinking problem."

That one caught me off guard. I had been half

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Robert Asprin

expecting her to make some comment about how
little I was helping on the kingdom's finances, or
even the parade of women I seemed to be sud-
denly confronted with. It had never occurred to
me that she might be taking affront at my per-
sonal habits.

"I . . .1 don't know what to say, Bunny. I
mean, sure, I drink. But everybody drinks a little
from time to time."

"A little?"

She came off the windowsill in one easy motion
and came to perch on the edge of my bed.

"Skeeve, every time I see you lately you've got
a goblet of wine in your hand. It's gotten so that
your idea of saying 'Hello' to someone is to offer
them a drink."

I was really confused now. When she first
mentioned my drinking, my immediate reaction
was that she was being an alarmist. The more she
talked, however, the more I found myself wonder-
ing if she might have a point.

"That's just being hospitable," I said, stalling
for time to think.

"Not when you're making the offer first thing
in the morning," she snapped. "Definitely not
when you go ahead and have a drink yourself,
whether they join you or not."

"Aahz drinks," I countered, starting to feel
defensive. "He says the water on most dimen-
sions isn't to be trusted."

"This is your home dimension, Skeeve. You
should be used to the water here. Besides, Aahz is
a Pervect. His whole metabolism is different from
yours. He can handle drinking."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

119

"And I can't. Is that what you're trying to say?"

The misery I had been feeling since I awoke was
now taking the form of anger and annoyance.

"Check me on this," she said. "From what I've
heard, during your recent trip to Perv, you got into
a fight didn't you? After you'd been drinking?"

"Well . . . Yes. But I've been in fights before."

"From what I hear, if Kalvin, the Djinn, hadn't
sobered you up, you might not have survived this
one. True?"

She had a point there. The situation had been a
bit hairy. I had to admit that my odds of surviving
the brawl would have gone way down if I hadn't
been jerked back to sobriety by Kalvin's spell.

I nodded my agreement.

"Then there's last night," she continued. "You
really wanted to make a good impression on
someone. You dressed up in one of your spiffiest
outfits, probably dropped a fair hunk of change,
and then what? From the sounds of it, you got
carried away with the drinking until you can't
even remember what happened. You don't even
know what went on, much less whether or not
your date had a good time. That doesn't sound
like you ... at least, the you that you'd like
people to remember."

I was starting to feel really low, and not just from
the aftereffects of the night before. I had always
thought my drinking was a harmless diversion . . .
or, more lately, a way to ease the pressures of the
problems confronting me. It had never occurred to
me how it might look to others. Now that I was
thinking about it, the picture wasn't very pleasant.

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Robert Asprin

Unfortunately, I was still a little reluctant to admit
that to Bunny.

"One of the things I do remember about last
night is that people kept buying me drinks," I said
defensively. "It kind of caught me by surprise, and
I thought it would be rude to refuse."

"Even if you have to accept drinks to be social,
there's nothing that says what you drink has to be
alcoholic," Bunny shot back. "There are other
things to drink, you know. You could always just
have a soft drink or some fruit juice."

Suddenly, I was very tired. Between my hang-
over and the new thoughts that had been thrust
upon me, what little energy I had when I awoke
was now depleted.

"Bunny," I said, "I'm really not up to arguing
with you right now. You've raised some interest-
ing points, and I appreciate your bringing them to
my attention. Give me some time to think about
them. Okay? At the moment, all I want to do is
curl up and die for a while."

To her credit, Bunny didn't continue to push
her case. Instead, she became extremely solici-
tous.

"I'm sorry, Skeeve," she said, laying a hand on
my arm. "I didn't mean to jump you like that
while you were still drying out. Is there anything
I can get you? A cold washrag, maybe?"

Actually, that sounded like a wonderful idea.

"If you would, please. I'd really appreciate it."

She hopped off the bed and made for the wash-
stand while I tried to find a more comfortable
position.

After rearranging the pillows, I glanced over to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

121

see what was keeping her, only to find her stand-
ing stock still, staring at the wall.

"Bunny? Is there something wrong?" I called.

"I guess I was wrong," she said in a strange
tone, still staring at the wall.

"How's that?"

"When I said you probably left a bad impression
on your date ... I think I should have kept my
mouth shut."

"What makes you say that?"

"I take it you haven't seen this."

She gestured at the wall over the washstand. I
squinted slightly and focused my still-bleary eyes
on the spot she was indicating.

Written on the wall, in bright red lipstick, was
a note.

Skeeve,

Sorry to go, but I didn't want to wake you.
Last night was magic. You're as good as your rep.
Let me know when you want to play some more.

Cassandra

I found myself smirking as I read the note.

"Well, I guess she wasn't too upset with my
drinking. Eh, Bunny?"

There was no answer.

"Bunny?"

I tore my eyes away from the message and
glanced around the room. The tray was still there,
but Bunny wasn't. With the door standing open,
the only logical conclusion was that she had left
without saying a word.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so smug anymore.

Chapter Eleven:

"// labor and management communi-
cated better, there would be fewer
terminations."

J. HOFFA

"Hi, BUTTERCUP, How's it going, fellah?"

The war unicorn raised his head and stared at
me for a moment, then went back to eating from
his feed bin.

"Com'on, fellah. You know me," I urged.

The unicorn continued eating, ignoring me
completely.

"Don't worry, Boss/' came a squeaky voice
from behind me. "Unicorns are like that."

I didn't have to look to see who the voice
belonged to, but turned to face my bodyguard
anyway.

"Hi, Nunzio," I said. "What was that about
unicorns?"

"They're temperamental," he explained with a
shrug. "War unicorns like Buttercup are no excep-
tion. He's just giving you a rough time because
you haven't been visiting him much."
123

124

Robert Asprln

One of the assorted things I had learned about
Nunzio's past was that at one time he had been an
animal trainer, so I tended to believe him. I was a
little disappointed, however. I had been hoping
that Buttercup's reaction to me would provide a
confirmation as to what did or didn't happen
between Cassandra and me the night before, but
it seemed there were other, more rational, pos-
sible reasons for his standoffishness.

Of course, fast on the heels of my disappoint-
ment came a surge of guilt. I had been neglecting
my pets badly . . . along with a lot of other
things.

"That reminds me, Nunzio," I said, eager to
shift the guilt, "how are you doing with Gleep?"

My bodyguard frowned and wiped a massive
hand across his mouth and chin in thought.

"I dunno, Boss," he said. "I can't quite put my
finger on it, but there's somethin' wrong there. He
just don't feel right lately."

Strangely enough, that made sense. In fact,
Nunzio had managed to put into words my own
nebulous concerns about my pet ... he didn't
feel right.

"Maybe we're going about this wrong," I said.
"Maybe instead of trying to pin down what's
wrong with him now, we should try to backtrack
a bit."

"I don't quite follow you," my bodyguard
scowled.

"Think back, Nunzio," I urged. When did you
first notice that Gleep wasn't acting normal?"

"Well ... he seemed okay when Markie was
around," he said thoughtfully. "In fact, if you

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

125

think about it, he was the first of us to figure she
wasn't on the up and up."

Something flitted across my mind along with
that memory, but Nunzio kept talking and it
disappeared again.

"I'd have to say it was right after that job when
him and me was guarding that warehouse. You
remember? With the forged comic books?"

"Was he all right on that assignment?"

"Sure. I remember talkin' with him quite a bit
while we was sittin' around doin' nothin'. He was
fine then."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "You were
talking with Gleep?"

"I guess it was more like talkin' to him, since
he doesn't really answer back." Nunzio corrected
himself easily. "You know what I mean, Boss.
Anyway, I spent a lot of time talkin' to him, and
he seemed okay then. In fact, he seemed to listen
real close."

"What did you talk to him about?"

My bodyguard hesitated, then glanced away
quickly.

"Oh . . . this and that," he said with an exag-
gerated shrug. "I really can't remember for sure."

"Nunzio," I said, letting a note of sternness
creep into my voice, "if you can remember, tell
me. It's important."

"Well ... I was goin' on a bit about how
worried I was about you, Boss," Nunzio admitted
hesitantly. "You remember how you was right
after we decided to incorporate? How you was
gettin' so wrapped up in work that you didn't
have much time for anything or anyone else? I

126

Robert Asprin

just unloaded on Gleep a bit about how I didn't
think it was healthy for you, is all. I didn't think
it would hurt nothin'. That's why I did my talkin'
in front of him and not anyone else on the
team . . . even Guido."

There were clear images dancing in my head
now. Pictures of Gleep breathing fire at Markie . . .
who only escaped narrowly when Nunzio inter-
vened . . . and of my pet throwing himself in
front of me when another, larger dragon was on
the brink of making me extinct.

"Think carefully, Nunzio/' I said slowly. "When
you were talking to Gleep, did you say any-
thing . . . anything at all ... about the possi-
bility of Tananda or anyone else on the team
being a threat to me?"

My bodyguard frowned thoughtfully for a mo-
ment, then shook his head.

"I don't remember sayin' anything like that,
Boss. Why do you ask?"

Now it was my turn to hesitate. The idea that
was taking shape in my mind seemed almost too
silly to voice. Still, since I was turning to Nunzio
for advice and expertise, it was only fair to share
my suspicions with him.

"It may be crazy," I said, "but I'm starting to get
the feeling that Gleep is a lot more intelligent
that we ever suspected. I mean, he's always been
kind of protective of me. If he were intelligent and
got it into his head that someone on the team was
a threat to me, there's a chance he might try to
kill them . . . just like he went after Markie."

My bodyguard stared at me, then gave a short
bark of laughter.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

127

"You're right, Boss," he said. "That does sound
crazy. I mean, Gleep's a dragon! If he was to try to
whack someone on the team, we'd know it pretty
fast, know what I mean?"

"Like when he tried to burn Tananda?" I pressed.
"Think about it, Nunzio. If he were intelligent,
wouldn't part of his conclusions be that I would
be upset if anything happened to anyone on the
team? In that case, wouldn't he do his best to
make any mishap look like an accident rather
than a direct attack? I'll admit it's a wild theory,
but it fits the facts."

"Except for one thing," my bodyguard coun-
tered. "For him to be doin' what you say, puttin'
pieces together and comin' up with his own
conclusions, much less organizing a plan and
executing it, would make him more than intelli-
gent. It would make him smarter than us! Re-
member, for a dragon he's still real young. It
would be like sayin' a baby that could hardly walk
was planning a bank heist."

"I suppose you're right," I sighed. "There must
be another explanation."

"You know, Boss," Nunzio smiled, "folks say
that, after a while, pets start takin' on the traits of
their masters and vice verses. Takin' that into
consideration, I think it's only logical that Gleep
here acts a bit strange from time to time."

For some reason, that brought to mind my
earlier conversation with Bunny.

"Tell me, Nunzio, do you think I've been drink-
ing too much lately?"

"That's not for me to say, Boss," he said easily.
"I'm just a bodyguard, not a babysitter."

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Robert Asprin

"I was asking what you thought."

"And I'm sayin' I'm not supposed to think . . .
at least, not about whoever it is I'm supposed to
be guardin'," he insisted. "Bodyguards that com-
ment on their clients's personal habits don't last
long. What I'm supposed to be doin' is guardin' you
while you do whatever it is you do ... not tellin'
you what to do."

I started to snap at him, but instead took a long
breath and brought my irritation under control.

"Look, Nunzio," I said carefully, "I know that's
the normal bodyguard/client relationship. I like
to think, though, that we've progressed a little
past that point. I like to think of you as a friend as
well as a bodyguard. What's more, you're a stock-
holder in M.Y.T.H. Inc., so you have a vested
interest in my performance as president. Now,
this morning Bunny told me that she thought I
was developing a drinking problem. I don't think
that I am, but I'm aware that I may be too close to
the situation to judge properly. That's why I'm
asking your opinion ... as a friend and fellow
worker whose opinions and judgment I've grown
to value and respect."

Nunzio rubbed his chin thoughtfully, obviously
wrestling with a mental dilemma.

"I dunno, Boss," he said. "It's kinda against the
rules . . . but then again, you're right. You do
treat Guido and me different from any other boss
we've had. Nobody else ever asked our opinion on
nothin'."

"Well I'm asking, Nunzio. Please?"

"Part of the problem is that it's not that easy a
question to answer," he shrugged. "Sure, you

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129

drink. But do you drink too much? That's not as
clear-cut. You've been drinking more since you
brought Aahz back from Perv, but 'more' doesn't
necessarily mean the same as 'too much.' Know
what I mean?"

"As a matter of fact, no I don't."

He sighed heavily. When he spoke again, I
couldn't help but notice that his tone had the
patient, careful note that one takes, or should,
when one is explaining something to a child.

"Look, Boss," he said. "Drinkin' affects the
judgment. Everybody knows that. The more you
drink, the more it affects your judgment. Sayin'
how much is too much isn't easy, though, seein'
as how it varies from individual to individual
depending on such factors as weight, tempera-
ment, etc."

"But if it affects your judgment," I said, "how
can you tell whether or not your judgment is right
when you say it's not too much?"

"That's the rub," Nunzio shrugged. "Some say
if you have the sense to question it, you aren't
drinkin' too much. Others say that if you have to
ask, then you ARE drinkin' too much. One thing
I do know is that a lot of people who drink too
much are sure they don't have a problem."

"So how do you tell?"

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin, "probably the
best way is to ask a friend whose judgment you
trust."

I closed my eyes and fought for patience.

"That's what I THOUGHT I was doing, Nun-
zio. I'm asking YOU. Do YOU think I'm drinking
too much?"

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"That isn't important," he said, blandly. "It
isn't a question of if I think you're drinkin' too
much, it's if YOU think you're drinkin' too much."

"NUNZIO," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm
asking what YOUR opinion is."

He averted his eyes and shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry, Boss. Like I say, this isn't easy for me."

He rubbed his chin again.

"One thing I WILL say is that I think you're
drinkin' at the wrong time . . . and I don't mean
too early or late in the day. I mean at the wrong
time in your life."

"I don't understand," I frowned.

"Ya see, Boss, drinkin' usually acts like a mag-
nifyin' glass. It exaggerates everything. Some people
drink trying' to change their mood, but they're
kiddin' themselves. It don't work that way. It
don't change what is, it emphasizes it. If you
drink when you're happy, then you get REAL
happy. Know what I mean? But if you drink when
you're down, then you get REAL down, REAL
fast."

He gave another heavy sigh.

"Now, you've been goin' through some rough
times lately, and have some tough decisions to
make. To me, that's not a real good time to be
drinkin'. What you need right now is a clear head.
What you DON'T need is somethin' to exaggerate
any doubts you've got about yourself or your
judgment."

It was my turn to rub my chin thoughtfully.

"That makes sense/' I said. "Thanks, Nunzio."

"Hey. I just had an idea," he said brightly,
apparently buoyed by his success. "There's a real

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131

easy way to tell if you're drinkin' too much. Just
lay off the sauce for a while. Then see if there's
any big change in your thinkin' or judgment. If
there is, then you know it's time to back off. Of
course, if you find out that quittin' is harder than
you thought, then you'll have another signal that
you've got trouble."

A part of me bristled at the thought of having to
ease up on my drinking, but I fought it down . . .
along with my flash of fear at what that bristling
might imply.

"Okay, Nunzio," I said. "I'll do it. Thanks
again. I appreciate how hard that was for you."

"Don't mention it, Boss. Glad I could help
you."

He reached out and laid a hand on my shoulder
in a rare display of comradeship.

"Personally, I don't think you have that much
to worry about. If you've got a drinkin' problem,
it's marginal at best. I mean, it's not like you've
been blackin' out or anything."

Chapter Twelve:

"Let's see the instant replay on that!"

H. COSSELL

"HEY/ PARTNER! How's it going?"

I had been heading back toward my room with
the vague thought of getting a little more sleep.
The hail from Aahz, however, reduced my odds of
success noticeably.

"Hi Aahz/' I said, turning toward him. That put
the sun in my eyes, so I stepped back slightly to
find some shade.

He drew up close to me and peered at me
carefully. I, in turn, tried my best to look relaxed
and puzzled.

Finally he nodded to himself.

"You look okay," he declared.

"Shouldn't I?" I said, innocently.

"I heard you had quite a time last night," he
explained, shooting me another sidelong glance.
"Thought I'd better look you up and survey the
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Robert Asprin

damage. I'll admit you seem to have weathered
the storm well enough. Resilience of youth, I
guess.'7

"Maybe the reports were exaggerated," I sug-
gested hopefully.

"Not bloody likely," he snorted. "Chumley
said he saw you and your date when you rolled
back into the castle and, as you know, if anything,
he's prone to understatement."

I nodded mutely. When he wasn't in his work-
ing persona of Big Crunch, the troll was remark-
ably accurate in his reports and observations.

"Whatever," Aahz waved. "Like I say, you seem
to have survived pretty well."

I managed a weak smile.

"How about a Hair of the dog? A quick drink to
perk you up," he suggested. "Com'on partner. My
treat. We'll duck into town for a change of pace."

A moment's reflection was all it took to realize
that a stroll through the town around the castle
sounded good. Real good if Bunny was on the war-
path.

"Okay, Aahz. You're on," I said. "But as to the
hair of the dog . . . I'll stick to regular stuff if
you don't mind. I had enough of strange drinks
last night."

He gave off one of those choking noises he used
to make during my days as an apprentice when I
said something really dumb, but when I glanced
at him, there wasn't a trace of a smile.

"Aren't you forgetting something, partner?" he
said without looking at me.

"What?"

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135

"If we're heading out among the common folk,
a disguise spell would be nice."

He was right of course. Even though I was used
to seeing him as he actually was, a Pervect with
green scales and yellow eyes, the average citizen
of Possiltum still tended to react to his appear-
ance with horror and fear . . . which is to say
much the same way I reacted when I first met
him.

"Sorry, Aahz."

Closing my eyes, I quickly made the necessary
adjustments. Manipulating his image with my
mind, I made him look like an ordinary castle
guard. If anything, I made him a bit more scrawny
and undernourished than average. I mean, the
idea was not to intimidate people, wasn't it?

Aahz didn't even bother checking his reflection
in any of the windows we passed. He seemed
much more interested in prying details of my date
out of me.

"Where did you find to go on this backwater
dimension, anyway?" he said.

"Oh, we didn't stick around here," I said loftily.
"We ducked over to Limbo. Cassandra knew a
couple clubs there and we ..."

I suddenly noticed Aahz was no longer walking
beside me. Looking back, I realized he had stopped
in his tracks. His mouth was working, but no sound
came out.

"Limbo?" he managed at last. "You went bar
crawling on Limbo? Excuse me, partner, but I was
under the impression we were persona non grata
in that neck of the woods."

"I was a little worried at first," I admitted

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Robert Asprin

casually, which was only a little lie. As you'll
recall, I had been a LOT worried. "Cassandra said
she could blip us back out fast if there was any
trouble, though, so I figured what the heck. As it
turned out, nobody seems to be holding a grudge
there. In fact, it seems I'm ... I mean, we're . . .
minor celebrities over there. That's partly why
the evening ran as long as it did. Half the people
we ran into wanted to buy me a drink for putting
one over on the local council."

"Is that a fact?" Aahz said darkly, starting to
move again. "Just who is this Cassandra person,
anyway? She doesn't exactly sound like a local."

"She's not," I confirmed. "Vie set me up with
her. She's a friend of his."

"Nice to know he didn't set you up with an
enemy," my partner quipped. Still in all, it seems
to me . , ."

He broke off and did another double take.

"Wait a minute. Vie? The same vampire Vie
that you hang around with over at the Bazaar?
You mean this Cassandra babe is . . ."

"A vampire," I said with a careless shrug. The
truth was, I was starting to get a bit of a kick out
of shocking Aahz. "Oh, she's okay. No one you'd
want to take home to mother, but . . . what's
wrong?"

He was craning his head around to peer at my
neck from different angles.

"Just checking for bite marks," he said.

"Com'on, Aahz. There wasn't any danger of
that. She was drinking her blood out of a glass last
night."

"Those weren't the kind of bite marks I was

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137

checking for," he grinned. "Vamps have a rep of
being pretty wild women."

"Um . . . speaking of destinations," I said ea-
ger to change the subject, "where are we going?"

"No place special," my partner said. "These
local bars and inns are pretty much all the same.
This one should do us fine."

With that, he veered through the door of the
place we were passing, leaving me to follow along
behind.

The inn was refreshingly ordinary compared to
what I could remember of the surreal clubs I had
been to on Limbo. Ordinary, and more than a
little dull.

Dark wooden tables and chairs were the main
feature of the decor, with occasional candles
scattered here and there to supplement the light
which streamed in through windows and the
open door.

"What'll you have, Skeeve?" Aahz called, head-
ing for the bar.

I started to say 'Wine/ but changed my mind.
Whether or not Bunny was right about my drink-
ing getting out of hand, it wouldn't hurt to ease up
a bit. Besides, Nunzio's comment about blacking
out had me more than a little uneasy.

"Just some fruit juice for me," I waved.

Aahz paused, cocking his head at me.

"Are you sure you're all right, partner?" he said.

"Sure. Why do you ask?"

"A while back you were talking about looking
forward to having your usual, and now you're
switching drinks."

"All right. Have it your way," I grimaced. "A

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goblet of wine, then. No need to make a big thing
of it."

I leaned back and looked around the room,
though it was mostly to break eye contact with
Aahz before he realized I was upset. It was funny,
but I found myself somehow reluctant to tell my
partner my worries about my drinking. Still, it
was difficult to change my drinking patterns
around him without raising questions that would
require an explanation. I figured that, for the
moment, the easiest thing to do would be to go on
as before ... at least, while I was around Aahz.
Later, more privately, I'd start tapering off.

One thing I noticed about the inn was that
there seemed to be a lot of young people hanging
around. Well, to be honest, they were about my
age, but I spend so much time with the team, I
tend to think of myself as older.

One table of girls in particular caught my
attention, mostly because they seemed to be
talking about me. At least, that was my guess, as
they kept glancing my way, then putting their
heads together and giggling, then glancing over
again.

Not long ago, this would have made me ner-
vous. My recent excursion to Limbo, however,
had gotten me a bit more used to notoriety.

The next time they glanced over, I looked
directly back at them, then gave a brief, polite nod
of acknowledgment with my head. This, of course,
caused another hurried huddle and burst of giggles.

Ah, fame.

"What are you smiling at?" Aahz said as he set

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

139

my wine in front of me and slid onto the bench
across the table, cradling his own outsized drink.

"Oh, nothing," I smiled. "I was just watching
that table of girls over there."

I indicated the direction with a tilt of my head,
and he leaned sideways to scope them out him-
self.

"Kind of young for you, aren't they, partner?"

"They're not that much younger than I am," I
protested, taking a long swallow of wine.

"Don't you have enough problems already?"
Aahz said, settling back. "Last time I checked,
you were suffering from an overabundance of
women . . . not a shortage."

"Oh, relax," I laughed. "I wasn't figuring to do
anything with them. Just having a little fun, is all.
They were looking at me, so I let them see me
looking back."

"Well don't look now," he grinned back, "but at
least one of them is doing more than looking."

Needless to say, I looked.

One of the girls had stood up and was approach-
ing our table. When she saw me looking in her
direction, she seemed to gather her courage and
closed the distance in a rush.

"Hi," she said brightly. "You're him, aren't
you? The wizard from the castle?"

"That's right," I nodded. "How did you know
that?"

"I thought I heard him call you Skeeve when he
went to fetch your drink," she gushed.

"Probably because that's my name," I smiled.

Okay, so it wasn't the wittiest thing I'd said. In
fact, it was pretty lame compared to the usual

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banter that goes on within the team. You'd never
tell it, though, from her reaction.

She covered her mouth with one hand and
shrieked with laughter loud enough to draw the
attention of everyone in the room ... in the
town, for that matter.

"Oh! That's priceless," she declared.

"That's where you're wrong," I corrected. "Ac-
tually, my rates are rather high."

This, of course, set off another gale of laughter.
I caught Aahz's gaze and winked. He rolled his
eyes in disgust and turned his attention to his
drink. That seemed like a good idea, but when I
went to sip my wine, the goblet was empty. I
started to ask Aahz to get me another, but changed
my mind. That first one had disappeared with
disturbing speed.

"So, what can I do for you?" I said, as much to
take my mind off the wine as to get an answer.

"Well, everyone in town has been talking about
you," the girl chirped, "and my girlfriend . . .
the cute one over there . . . has a real thing for
you since she saw you in court when you first
came back. Anyway, it would just make her
whole incarnation if you'd come over to our table
so she could meet you personally."

"I don't know," I said. "There are things to be
said for meeting people im-personally as well."

"Huh?" she said, giving me a blank look, and I
realized I had pushed beyond her sense of humor.

"Just tell her I'll be over in a few moments, as
soon as I finish my conversation here."

"Great! She'll die!"

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141

I watched her scamper off to tell her friends,
then turned back to Aahz.

"I may throw up," he announced.

"You're just jealous," I grinned. "Keep an eye
on my drink for me, will you?"

With that I rose and headed for the girls' table.
At least, I started to.

There was a gangly youth blocking my way. I
started to move around him, but he stepped
sideways, deliberately putting himself in my path
again.

I stopped and looked at him.

I'd been in fights before. Sometimes against
some pretty tough customers when I wasn't sure
I would survive it. This joker, however, was
different.

He couldn't have been more than my age.
Probably a few years younger. What's more, he
didn't hold himself with the confident poise of a
brawler or even a soldier. In fact, if anything, he
looked scared.

"Leave them alone," he said in a shaky voice.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said leave them alone!" he repeated, his
voice gaining a bit of strength.

I let the ghost of a smile play across my face.

"Young man," I said gently, "do you know who
I am?"

"Oh, I know all right," he nodded. "You're
Skeeve. The big bad wizard from the castle. What's
more, I know you can make me sorry I ever
breathed, much less got in your way. You can turn
me into a toad or make my hair burst into flame,
or even whistle up some nasty creature to tear me

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SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

143

apart if you don't want to get your own hands
dirty. You can squash me or anyone else you want
just to get your way . . . but it doesn't make it
right. Maybe it's about time someone stood up to
you even if it means getting killed just for trying."

I couldn't help but notice there were some nods
and mutterings of support for the youth at the
other tables in the inn, and no few dark looks cast
in my direction.

"All right," I said levelly. "You're standing up
to me. Now make your point."

"The point is you can't just waltz in here and
put moves on our women. What's more, if you try,
you'll be sorry."

To emphasize his words, he reached out and
gave me a shove that knocked me back. I had to
take a step to recover my balance.

It was suddenly very quiet in the inn. The
moment seemed to hang in the air as everyone
tensed and waited to see what would happen
next.

Blood was pounding in my ears.

I heard the bench behind me slide as Aahz
started to get up, and I signaled behind me with
my hand for him to stay out of it.

"I have no intention of putting any 'moves' on
these women either now or in the future," I said
carefully. "The young lady there came to my table
and said that her friend wanted to meet me. I was
about to comply. Period. That's it. It was an effort
on my part to be polite. If, as it seems, it is
somehow offensive to you or anyone else here, I'll
forego the pleasure."

I looked past him to where the girls were
watching.

"Ladies," I nodded. "Another day, perhaps."

With that, I turned on my heel and marched out
of the place . . . angry and embarrassed, but con-
fident that I had correctly handled a dubious
situation.

It didn't help, however, that as I passed through
the door, a shout from the youth came wafting
after me.

"And don't come back!"

1

Chapter Thirteen:

"The secret of popularity Is confi-
dence. "

W. ALLEN

"HOLD UP A minute, partner. We're still together,
you know."

I slowed my pace a bit, and Aahz caught up
with me, falling in step beside me.

"If you don't mind the observation," he said,
"that little scene back there seems to have gotten
you a little upset."

"Shouldn't it have?" I snapped.

"Don't let it bother you," my partner said easily.
"Locals always get upset with outsiders . . .
especially when their women start flirting with
them. It's a problem as old as the hills. Just ask
any soldier or carny person. Don't take it person-
ally."

He gave me a playful punch on the arm, but, for
a change, I wasn't reassured.

"But they weren't reacting to an outsider, Aahz.
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Robert Asprin

They were reacting to me. I live here, too. What's
more, they knew it. They knew who I was and
that I work at the castle, but they still treated me
like an outsider."

"As far as they're concerned, you are."

That one stopped me.

"How's that again?"

"Take a look at the facts, Skeeve," Aahz said,
more serious now. "Even ignoring your travels
through the dimensions, you aren't the same as
them. Like you say, you work at the castle . . .
and not as a chambermaid or a kitchen worker,
either. You're one of the main advisors to the
Queen, not to mention a possible consort . . .
though I doubt they know that. Things you do
and say on a daily basis affect everyone in this
kingdom. That alone puts you on a different
social . . . not to mention economic . . . level
from the folks here in town."

That made me pause and think.

My new life and lifestyle had sort of grown up
around me over the years. Socializing and/or
clashing with kings or mayors had become pretty
commonplace, though I had never stopped to
consider it. Rather, I had always assumed that it
sort of went with the territory when one was a
magician. Then again, how many magicians had I
met while I was growing up?

Aahz was right. My work with the team had
cocooned me away from the rest of society to a
point where I took things for granted. The extra-
ordinary had become so ordinary to me, that I had
ceased to be aware of, or even consider, how it
must seem to the ordinary citizens.

SWEET MYTH-TCRY OF LIFE

147

I shook my head abruptly.

"No. There's more to it than that, Aahz. Those
people back there didn't like me."

"Uh-huh," my partner nodded. "So what's your
point?"

"What's my point*" I echoed a little shrilly.
"Maybe you didn't understand me. I said ..."

". . . They didn't like you," Aahz finished. "So
what?"

"What do you mean 'So what'?" I said. "Don't
you want to be liked?"

My old mentor frowned slightly, then gave a
shrug.

"I suppose it would be nice," he said. "But I
really don't give it much thought."

"But ..."

"And neither should you."

There was a levelness and firmness, almost a
warning, in his tone that brought me up short.

Instead of protesting, I struggled for several
moments trying to understand what he was try-
ing to tell me, then surrendered with a shake of
my head.

"I don't get it, Aahz. Doesn't everyone want to
be liked?"

"Maybe at some level," my partner said. "But
most people realize it's a wistful hope at best . . .
like it would be nice if it only rained when we
want it to. The reality is that it rains when it
bloody well feels like it, and that some people
aren't going to like you no matter what you do.
The up side is that there are also people who will
like you no matter what you do."

"I can't accept that," I said, shaking my head.

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Robert Asprin

"It's too fatalistic. If you're right, then there's no
point in trying at all."

"Of course there is," Aahz snapped. "Just don't
take everything to extremes. Okay? Reality al-
ways lies somewhere between the extremes. Not
trying at all to have people like you is as silly as
trying too much."

"Is that what I've been doing? Trying too much?"

My partner waggled his hand in front of him in
a so-so gesture.

"Sometimes you drift dangerously close," he
said. "I think that sometimes you let your desire
to be liked get out of proportion. When that
happens, it starts to warp your perception of
yourself and the world."

"Could you give me an example or two?"

"Sure," he said easily. "Let's start with an easy
one . . . like taxes. Part of your job right now is
to be a consultant on the taxes being levied on the
citizens. Right?"

I nodded.

"... Except that people don't like to pay taxes.
If they had their druthers, they would get the
protection and services of the kingdom without
paying a cent. Of course, they also realize that
something for nothing is an unrealistic situation,
so they accept the necessary evil of taxes. They
accept it, but the don't like it. Because they don't
like it, there is going to be an ongoing level of
resentment and grumbling. Whatever the tax as-
sessment is, it's too high, and whatever the level
of services is, it's too low. That resentment is
going to be forced on anyone involved with set-

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149

ting the taxes, which includes you and everyone
else who works at the castle."

He shook his head.

"What I'm saying is that if you're in a position
of decision making and power, such as you are now,
you can forget about being liked by the people
who are affected by your decisions. The best you
can hope for is respect."

"Wait a minute," I said, "are you saying that
people can respect you without liking you?"

"Sure," Aahz said easily. "That one I can give
you dozens of examples on. Since we're on the
subject of taxes and finances, consider Grimble.
You respect his skill and dedication even though
you don't particularly like him as a person. Right?"

I had to admit that he was right there.

"Better still," he continued, "think back to
when you and I first paired up. I was pretty rough
on you with the magik lessons, and made you
practice even when you didn't feel up to it. You
didn't like me for drilling you constantly, but
you did respect me."

"Um . . . Well, I didn't know you as well then
as I do now/' I said uneasily. "At the time,
though, I guess I had to believe that you knew
what you were doing, and that what you were
putting me through was necessary for the learn-
ing process . . . whether I liked it or not."

"Precisely," Aahz nodded. "Don't feel bad. It's
the normal reaction to an authority figure, whether
it's a parent, a teacher, a boss, or a government
representative. One doesn't always like what they
make us do, but even in the midst of disliking
being forced to do something, one can still admire

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and respect the fairness and expertise with which
they do their job."

He shrugged easily.

"I guess that's it in a nutshell," he said. "You're
a likeable young man, Skeeve, but sometimes I
think you should worry less about being liked and
more about being respected. If nothing else, it's a
more realizable goal."

I thought about what he had said for a few
minutes.

"You're right, Aahz," I said finally. "Being re-
spected is more important than being liked."

With that, I veered off to head in a different
direction than the one we had been walking.

"Where are you going, partner?"

"I'm going to see Bunny," I called back. "There's
a conversation we started this morning that I
think we should finish."

I had a fair amount of time to think about what
I wanted to say before I reached Bunny's room. It
didn't help. When I got there, I was still as much
at a loss of how to express my thoughts as when
I started out.

I paused for a few moments, then rapped lightly
on her door before I lost my nerve. Truth to tell, I
was half hoping she was out or asleep, which
would let me off my self-imposed hook.

"Who is it?"

So much for half-hopes. Maybe next time I
should try a whole one.

"It's me, Bunny. Skeeve."

"What do you want?"

"I'd like to talk to you, if it's all right."

There was a silence that lasted just long enough

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151

for me to both get my hopes up, and to start
seriously worrying.

"Just a minute."

As I waited, I could hear occasional sounds of
metallic clanking, as if someone was moving
stacks of iron plates . . . heavy iron plates, from
the sound of it. This puzzled me, as I could think
of no reason why Bunny would have metal plates
in her room.

Then it occurred to me that she might have
someone else in there with her.

"I can come back later, if this is a bad time," I
called, shutting my mind on trying speculate
who might be in my assistant's quarters at this
hour . . . and why.

In response, the door flew open, and Bunny
stood framed in the doorway.

"Come on in, Skeeve," she said, rather breath-
lessly. "This is a surprise."

It certainly was.

Silhouetted against the light, at first I thought
she was stark naked. Then she turned, and I
realized she was actually wearing a brightly col-
ored outfit that was skin tight and hugged her
body like it was painted on.

"Umm . . ."I said smoothly, unable to tear
my eyes from her form.

"Sorry I'm such a mess," she said, grabbing up
a towel and beginning to dab the sweat from her
face and throat. "I was just working out."

Now, as you know, I've gotten pretty intense
while working out my own problems in the past,
but I've never felt the need to wear a special outfit
while doing it. Then again, I've never worked up

152	Robert Asprin

the kind of sweat doing it that Bunny seemed to.
Whatever her problems were, they must be dil-
lies.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I said,
genuinely concerned.

"No thanks," she smiled. "I was pretty much
done when you knocked. Maybe sometime you
can come in and spot for me, though."

Now she had lost me completely. Spot what?
And how would spotting anything help her work
things out?

"So what's up?" she said, perching on the edge
of her bed.

Whatever her problems were, they didn't seem
to have her particularly upset. I decided to hold
off on trying to sort them out, at least, until I had
settled what I came here to do.

"Basically, Bunny," I said, "I wanted to apolo-
gize to you."

"For what?" she seemed genuinely puzzled.

"For how I acted this morning ... or when-
ever it was that I woke up."

"Oh that," she said, looking away. "There's no
need to apologize. Everyone gets a bit out of sorts
when they have a hangover."

It was nice of her to say that, but I wasn't about
to let it slide.

"No, there's more to it than that, Bunny. You
tried to raise some valid concerns about my
health and well being, and I gave you a rough time
because I wasn't ready to hear what you were
saying. I guess I didn't want to hear it. With
everything else I've been trying to sort out, I

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

153

really didn't want one more problem to compli-
cate things."

I paused and shook my head.

"I just wanted you to know that since then, I've
been thinking about what you said. I've decided
that you may be right about my having a drinking
problem. I'm not sure, mind you, but there's
enough doubt in my mind that I'm going to try to
ease up for a while."

I sat down on the bed beside her, and put my
arm around her shoulders.

"Whether you were right or not, though, I
wanted to thank you for your caring and concern.
That's what I should have said this morning
instead of getting defensive."

Suddenly, she was hugging me, her face buried
in my chest.

"Oh Skeeve," came her muffled voice. "I just
get so worried about you. I know you're in the
middle of making some rough decisions, and I try
not to add to your problems. I just wish there was
something more I could do to ease things for you,
but it seems that when I try to help, I just make
things worse for you."

Gradually, I became aware that she was crying
softly, though I wasn't sure why. Also, I became
very aware that there weren't many clothes be-
tween me and the body she was pressing against
me . . . and that we were sitting on a bed . . .
and . . .

I shut the door on that portion of my thoughts,
vaguely ashamed of myself. Bunny was obviously
upset and concerned for me. It was ignoble of me

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Robert Asprin

to taint the moment by entertaining thoughts

of ...

I shut the mental door again.

"Come on, Bunny," I said softly, stroking her
hair with one hand. "You are a big help to me.
You know and I know that I'd be lost trying to
straighten out the kingdom's finances without
your knowledge. You've take that whole burden
on yourself."

I took her by the shoulders and held her away
from me so that I could look into her eyes.

"As to doing more," I continued, "you're al-
ready trying harder which is probably wise. Like
this morning when you talked to me about my
drinking problem. I appreciate it ... I really do.
Some things I just have to work out for myself,
though. That's the way it should be. Nobody else
can or should make my decisions for me, since I'm
the one who is going to have to live with the
repercussions. All that you can do ... all that
anyone can do ... to help me right now is to be
patient with me. Okay?"

She nodded and wiped her eyes.

"Sorry about the waterworks," she said wryly.
"Gods. The first time you come to my room, and
I look like a mess."

"Now that is silly," I smiled, touching my
finger to the end of her nose in mock severity.
"You look terrific . . . like you always do. If you
don't know that, you should."

After that, it was only natural to kiss her . . .
a short, friendly kiss. At least, that's the way it
started out. Then it started to last longer, and
longer, and her body seemed to melt against mine.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

155

"Well, I better say good night now," I said,
pulling away from her, "Big day tomorrow."

That was a blatant lie, as tomorrow promised to
be no more or less busy for me than any other day.
I realized, however, that if I didn't break things
up, and our physical involvement grew, I'd have
trouble convincing myself that the reason I had
come to Bunny's room was to apologize and thank
her for her concern.

For a mad moment, I thought she was going to
protest my leaving. If she had, I'm not sure the
strength of my resolve would have been sufficient
to get me out the door.

She started to say something, then stopped and
drew a deep breath instead.

"Good night, Skeeve," she said finally. "Come
and see me again sometime . . . soon."

To say the least, there were many distracting
thoughts dancing in my head as I made my way
back to my room.

Bunny had come on to me pretty strong when
we first met, and I had backed her off. Having
made such a big thing out of keeping our relation-
ship on a professional basis, could I now reverse
my stance without making a complete fool of
myself? Would she let me? She seemed to still be
interested, but then again I might simply be
kidding myself.

Then, too, there was the question of whether or
not I had any right to be shopping around for a
new relationship while I was still making up my
mind on Queen Hemlock's proposal. The night
with Cassandra had been an adventure and a
learning experience, but even I couldn't kid my-

156	Robert Asprin

self that getting involved with Bunny would be a
brief fling.

What was it exactly that I wanted . . . and
from who?

Still lost in thought, I opened the door to my
room . . . and found a demon waiting for me.

Chapter Fourteen:

"Take a walk on the wild side."
G. GEBEL-WILLIAMS

Now, THOSE OF you who have been following my
adventures are aware that there is nothing new
about my finding a demon in my room. It's not all
that unusual these days, though I still have trouble
from time to time getting used to it.

Of course, some demon visitors are more wel-
come than others.

This one was a cute little number. She had
close-cropped brown hair which framed a round
face with big, wide-set almond-shaped eyes, a pert
little nose, and small, heart-shaped lips. She also
had a generous number of curves in all the right
places, which the harem outfit she was wearing
showed off with distracting clarity. The only
trouble was, she was tiny. Not "small," mind
you . . . tiny.

The figure in front of me, delectable as it might
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Robert Asprin

be, was only about four inches high and floated in
midair.

"Hi!" the diminutive lady chirped in a musical
voice. "You must be Skeeve. I'm Daphnie."

There was a time when I would have found the
effect unsettling. Courtesy of my recent travels,
however, I had seen it before.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," I said in my most
off-worldly, casual manner. "You're a Djin. Right?
From Djinger?"

"Well ... a Djeanie, actually. But if we're
going to be friends, no wisecracks about the
Djeanie with the light brown hair. Okay?"

I stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to
provide the rest of what was obviously supposed
to be a joke. Instead of continuing, though, she
simply looked back at me expectantly.

"Okay," I agreed finally. "That shouldn't be
hard."

She peered at me for a moment longer, then
shook her head.

"You must be the only one in the known
dimensions who doesn't know that song/' she
said. "Are you sure you're Skeeve? The Great
Skeeve?"

"Well . . . yes. Do we know each other?"

Realizing how stupid the question was, I has-
tened to modify it before she could answer.

"No. I'm sure I would have remembered if we
had met before."

For some reason, my clumsy recovery seemed
to please her.

"That's sweet," she said, floating forward to
run a soft hand along my cheek, light as a butter-

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

159

fly's touch. "No. I haven't had the pleasure. We
have a mutual acquaintance, though. Do you
remember a Djin named Kalvin?"

"Kalvin? Sure. He gave me a hand a while back
when I was on Perv."

"On Perv, eh?" she said, looking lost in thought
for a moment, but then she brightened. "Well he
mentioned you and said that if I was ever out this
way, I should drop in and say 'Hi' for him."

"Really? That's nice of him . . . I mean, you."

I was pleasantly surprised by Kalvin's thought-
fulness. I don't get many social visitors from off
world, mostly just those who are looking for help
on one thing or another. It also occurred to me
that I had never thought of dropping in to pay
social calls to any of the various people I had met
on my many adventures, and made a mental note
to correct that situation.

"So, how's Kalvin doing? Is he fitting back into
life on Djinger okay after being gone so long?"

"Oh. He's okay," the Djeanie said shrugging her
shoulders . . . which had an interesting effect on
a shapely body in a harem outfit. "You know how
it is. It always takes a while to get back in stride
after a sabbatical."

"Say ... if we're going to be talking for a
while, would you mind enlarging to my size? It
would make conversation easier."

To be honest with you, after having watched
what happened when she shrugged her shoulders,
I was interested in seeing her body on a larger
scale. If nothing else, it would get rid of the
uncomfortable feeling that I was getting physi-
cally interested in a talking doll.

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Robert Asprin

"No problem," she said, and waved her arms.

The air rippled and shimmered, and she was
standing in front of me at my size. Well, actually,
a little less than a head shorter than me, which
placed me in the tantalizing position of looking
down at her.

"Say, is this a monastery or something?"

"What? Oh. No, this is the Royal Palace of
Possiltum." I said. "Why? Do I look like a monk?"

That was, of course, supposed to be a trick
question. I was really rather proud of my ward-
robe these days, and any monk who dressed the
way 1 did was way out of line with his vows of
poverty.

"Not really," she admitted. "But you seem to
be showing an awful lot of interest in my cleavage
for someone who's supposed to be as well traveled
as the Great Skeeve, Don't they have women on
this dimension?"

I guess I had been staring a bit, but hadn't
expected her to notice ... or, if she did, to
comment on it. However if there's one thing my
years with Aahz have taught me, it's how to cover
my shortcomings with words.

"Yes, we have women here," I said with an easy
smile. "Frankly, though, I think your cleavage
would be stared at no matter what dimension you
visited."

She dimpled and preened visibly.

"As starable as it is, however," I continued
casually, "my actual interest was professional.
Aside from Kalvin, you're the only native of
Djinger that I've met, and I was wondering if that

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

161

stunt you do changing size is a disguise spell, or if
it's true shape shifting."

Not bad for a quick out from an embarrassing
situation, if I do say so myself. Anyway, Daphnie
seemed to accept it.

"Oh that," she said, shrugging her shoulders
again. This time, however, I managed to maintain
eye contact. No sense pushing my luck. "It's the
real thing . . . shape shifting, that is. It's one
of the first things a Djin ... or, especially a
Djeanie . . . has to learn. When your whole di-
mension is in the wish biz, you've got to be able
to cater to all kinds of fantasies."

My mind went a little out of focus for a mo-
ment as it darted across several unprintable fan-
tasies I could think of involving Daphnie, but she
was still going.

"It's not just size either . . . well, height, I
mean. We can shift to any proportions necessary
for the local pinup standards. Check this out."

With that, she proceeded to treat me to one of
the most impressive arrays of female bodies I've
ever seen . . . except they were all her! In quick
succession, she became willowy, then buxom,
then long-legged, while at the same time chang-
ing her hair length and color, as well as changing
her complexion from delicately pale to a darker
hue than her normal cinnamon hue. I decided
then and there that where ever this pinup dimen-
sion was, I should make a point of dropping in for
a visit . . . soon.

My other reaction was far less predictable.
Maybe it was because I had been thinking so
much about women and marriage lately, but,

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Robert Asprin

while watching her demonstrating her shape shift-
ing skills, it popped into my head that she would
be an interesting wife. I mean, think of it: a
woman who could assume any size, shape, or
personality at will! It would certainly ease the
fears of being bored living with one woman for
the rest of your life.

"Very impressive," I said, forcing my previous
train of thought to a halt. "Tell me, have you ever
considered a career in modeling?"

Daphnie's eyes narrowed for a moment, then
her face relaxed again.

"I'll assume that was meant as a compliment.
Right?" she said.

That one had me really confused.

"Of course," I said. "Why? Isn't it?"

"I'm so attractive, I could make a living at it. Is
that what you were thinking?"

"Well . . . Yes. Even though when you put it
that way, it does sound a little dubious."

"You don't know the half of it," the Djeanie
said, rolling her eyes.

"Look, Skeeve. I tried that game once . , . and
you're right, I can do it and there's good money in
it. It's what goes with it that's a pain."

"I don't understand," I admitted.

"First of all, even though the job may look
glamourous from the outside, it isn't. It's long
hours in uncomfortable conditions, you know? I
mean, it's fun for most people to go to the beach,
but try sitting in the same spot for six hours while
waves break over you so the jerk photographer
can get 'just the right look and -lighting' . . . and

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

163

even then more often than not they don't use the
shot."

I nodded sympathetically, all the while wonder-
ing what a photographer was and why she would
hold still while he shot at her.

"Then again folks think there's a lot of status
attached to being a model." she continued. "There's
about as much status as being a side of beef on a
butcher's block. You may be the center of atten-
tion, but to the people working with you, you're
just so many pounds of meat to be positioned and
marketed. Now mind you, I like having my body
touched as much as the next woman, but I like to
think that while it's going on, whoever's doing it
is thinking of me. The way it is, it's like you're a
mannequin or a puppet being maneuvered for
effect."

"Uh-huh," I said, thinking that if I ever got a
chance to touch her body, I'd certainly be keeping
my mind on her in the process.

"Of course, there's always the job of keeping
the equipment in shape. Most women feel they'd
look better if they lost a couple pounds or firmed
up the muscle tone . . . and they even work at it
occasionally. Well, let me tell you, when your
livelihood depends on your looks, keeping the bod
in shape is more than a leisure-time hobby. It's a
full-time project. Your whole life is centered
around diets and exercise, not to mention main-
taining your complexion and hair. Sure, I have an
advantage because I can shape shift, but believe
me, the less you have to do magikally, the less
strain you put on the system and the longer the
machine lasts.

164

Robert Asprin

"Which brings up another point: Whatever you
do to maintain your looks, it's a losing fight with
time. Djeanies may have a longer life span than
some of the women from other dimensions, but
eventually age catches up with everyone. Strate-
gic features that once used to catch the eye start
to droop and sag, the skin on the neck and hands
starts to look more and more like wet tissue
paper, and faster than you can say 'old crone/
you're back out the door and they've replaced you
from the bottomless pool of young hopefuls. Ter-
rific, huh?"

That one made me think a bit. One thing about
being a magician was that age wasn't a prime
factor. Heck, for a while when I was starting out,
I used my disguise spell to make myself look
older because no one would believe that a young
magician would be any good. The idea of losing
one's job simply because one had grown older was
a terrifying concept. I found myself being glad
that most jobs didn't have the age restrictions
that modeling seemed to.

"Then, just to top things off," the Djeanie said,
"there's the minor detail of how people treat you.
Most men are intimidated by your looks and
won't come near you on a bet. They'll stare and
drool, and maybe fantasize a little, but they won't
try to date you. Unless they have stellar looks
themselves or an iron-clad ego, they're afraid of
creating a 'Beauty and the Beast' comparison. The
ones who do come on to you usually have a
specific scenario in mind . . . and that doesn't
involve you either talking or thinking at all. They
want an ornament, and if there's actually a person

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

165

inside that glamourous package, they're not only
surprised, they're a little annoyed."

She sighed and shook her head.

"Sorry to ramble like that, but it's a pet peeve of
mine. When you stop to think about it, it's a little
sad to think of women who feel that all they have
to offer the world is their looks. Personally, I like to
think I have more to offer than that."

Taking a deep breath, she blew it all out noisily,
then smiled and cocked her head at me.

"Um . . . How about if I just say that I think
you look fantastic, and forget about speculating
on your potential as a model?" I said cautiously.

"Then I'd say 'Thank you, kind sir'. You aren't
so bad looking yourself."

She smiled and made a small curtsey. I success-
fully resisted an impulse to bow back to her.

Mostly, I was trying to think of what we could
talk about next, having exhausted the subject of
beauty.

"So, how do you know Kalvin?" Daphnie said,
solving the problem for me. "He made it sound
like the two of you were old buddies."

Now we were back on familiar footing.

"Actually, I bought him over at the Bazaar at
Deva. Well, to be accurate, I bought his bottle. I
only was entitled to one wish from him . . . but
I don't need to explain that to you. You probably
know the drill better than I do. I didn't get to
know him until a couple years later when I got
around to opening the bottle."

"I don't understand," she said, frowning pret-
tily. "Why did you buy his bottle if you weren't
going to use it for several years?"

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Robert Asprin

"Why I bought it in the first place is a long
story," I said, rolling my eyes comically. "As to
why I didn't use it for so long, I'm part of a fairly
impressive team of magik users . . . the head of
it, actually. We do a pretty good job of handling
most problems that come up on our own without
calling on outside help."

Okay. So I was blowing my own trumpet a bit.
Even though I didn't know if anything would ever
develop between us, she was cute enough that I
figured that it couldn't hurt to impress her a little.

"So he was with you the whole time? From
when you purchased his bottle until his dis-
charged his duty on Perv? When was that, ex-
actly?"

She didn't seem very impressed. If anything, it
was as if she was more interested in asking
questions about Kalvin than in learning about
me, a situation I found slightly annoying.

"Oh, it wasn't all that long ago," I said. "Just a
couple weeks back, in fact. Of course, time doesn't
advance at the same rate on all the dimen-
sions ... as I'm sure you know."

"True," she said, thoughtfully. "Tell me, did he
say he was going straight back to Dijinger? Or was
he going to stop somewhere along the way, first?"

"Let me think. As I recall, he didn't . . . Wait
a minute. Didn't he make it back to Djinger? I
thought you said that he was the one who told
you to look me up."

I was both concerned and confused. If Daphnie
was looking for Kalvin, then how had she found
out about me? I didn't know any other Djins . . .

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

167

or anyone who traveled to Djinger on a regular

basis.

"Oh, he made it back all right," she shrugged.
"I was just a little curious about ..."

There was a soft BAMF, and a second Djin
materialized in the room. This one I recognized
immediately as Kalvin, who I had just been speak-
ing to Daphnie about. I could tell at a glance,
though, that something was wrong.

Chapter Fifteen:

"Blessed are the peacemakers,  for

they shall take flack from both sides."

UNOFFICIAL UN MOTTO

I HAD GOTTEN to know Kalvin pretty well during
my trip to Perv, and all through that adventure he
had been as unshakable in a crisis as anyone I had
ever known. Now, however, he was exhibiting all
the classic symptoms of someone who was about
to lose control of his temper . . . clenched teeth,
furrowed brow, tight expression, the works.

Fortunately, his anger seemed to be directed at
my guest rather than at me.

"I should have known!" he snarled, without so
much as a nod to acknowledge my presence. "I
should have checked here first as soon as I found
out you were gone."

It occurred to me that, as little as I knew about

Djins, that it could be markedly unhealthy to

have one upset with you. Realizing that magik,

like a knife, could be used both benevolently or

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Robert Asprin

destructively, my first instinct probably would
have been to try to calm him down quickly . . .
or to vacate the premises.

To my surprise, however, the Djeanie spun
around and leveled what seemed to be an equal
amount of anger back at him.

"Oh, I see," she spat back. "It's all right for you
to disappear for years at a time, but as soon as I
step out the door, you've got to come looking for
me!"

The interest I had been feeling in Daphnie came
to a screeching halt. In the space of a few seconds
her personality had changed from a flirtatious
coquette to a shrill shrew. Then, too, there seemed
to be more to her relationship with Kalvin than just
an "acquaintance" as she had billed it.

"That was business," the Djin was saying, still
nose to nose with my visitor. "You know, the
stuff that puts food on the table for our whole
dimension? Besides, if you were just going out to
kick up your heels a bit I wouldn't care. What I
DO mind is your sneaking off to check up on
me."

"So what? It shouldn't bother you . . . unless
you haven't been telling me everything, that is."

"What bothers me is that you can't bring your-
self to believe me," Kalvin shot back. "Why do
you even bother asking me anything if you aren't
going to believe I'm telling you the truth?"

"I used to believe everything you told me. YOU
taught me how stupid that was. Remember?"

This seemed to be going nowhere fast, so I
summoned my courage and stepped forward to
intervene.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

171

"Excuse me, but I thought you two were friends."

Kalvin broke off his arguing to spare me a
withering look.

"Friends? Is that what she told you?"

He rounded on the Djeanie again.

"You know, babe, for someone who keeps ac-
cusing me of lying, you play pretty fast and loose
with the truth yourself!"

"Don't be silly," the Djeanie said. "If I had told
him I was your wife, he would have just covered
for you. You think I don't know how you men lie
to protect each other?"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Did you say
'wife'? Are you two married?"

Whatever was left of my interest in Daphnie
died without a whimper.

"Sure," Kalvin said with a grimace. "Can't you
tell by the loving and affection we shower on each
other? Of course we're married. Do you think
either of us would put up with this abuse from a
stranger?"

He gave a brief shake of his head, and for a
moment seemed to almost return to normal.

"By the way, Skeeve, good to see you again," he
said, flashing a tight smile. "Sorry to have forgot-
ten my manners, but I get ... Anyway, even
though it may be a bit late, I'd like to introduce
you to my wife, Daphnie."

"Well, at lest now I know what it takes to be
introduced to one of your business friends."

And they were off again.

There was a knock on the door.

I answered it, thinking as I did that it was nice

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Robert Asprin

to know at least a few people who came into my
room the normal way . . . which is to say, by
the door . . . instead of simply popping in unan-
nounced.

"Is everything okay, Boss? I thought I heard
voices."

"Sure," I said, "it's just . . . Guido?"

My mind had to grapple with several images
and concepts simultaneously, and it wasn't doing
so hot. First was the realization that Guido was
back from his mission as a special tax envoy.
Second, that he had his arm in a sling.

The latter probably surprised me more than the
former. After all our time together, I had begun to
believe that my bodyguards were all but invulner-
able. It was a little unsettling to be reminded that
they could be hurt physically like anyone else.

"What are you doing back?" I said. "And what
happened to your arm?"

Instead of answering, he peered suspiciously
past me at the arguing Djins.

"What's goin' on in there, Boss?" he demanded.
"Who are those two jokers, anyway?"

I was a little surprised that he could hear and
see my visitors, but then I remembered that it's
only while a Djin is under contract that he or she
can only be seen and heard by the holder of their
bottle.

"Oh, those are just a couple friends of mine," I
said. "Well . . . sort of friends. I thought they
were dropping by to say 'Hi,' but, as you can see,
things seem to have gotten a little out of hand.
The one with the beard is Kalvin, and the lady
he's arguing with is his wife, Daphnie."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

173

I thought it was a fairly straightforward expla-
nation, but Guido recoiled as if I had struck him.

"Did you say 'his wife'?"

"That's right. Why?"

My bodyguard stepped forward to place himself
between me and the arguing couple.

"Get out of here, Boss," he said quietly.

"What?"

At first I thought I had misunderstood him.

"Boss," he hissed with aggravated patience.
"I'm your bodyguard. Right? Well, as your body-
guard and the one currently responsible for the
well bein' of your continued health, I'm tellin'
you to get out of here!"

"But ..."

Apparently Guido wasn't willing to debate the
point further. Instead, he scooped me up with his
good arm and carried me out the door into the
corridor, where he deposited me none too gently
against the wall beside the doorway.

"Now stay here," he said, shaking a massive
finger in my face. "Got that? Stay here!"

I recognized the tone of his voice. It was the
same as when I tried to give Gleep a simple
command ... for the third or fourth time after
he had been steadfastly ignoring me. I decided I
would try to prove that I was smarter than my pet
by actually following orders.

"Okay, Guido," I said, with a curt nod. "Here it
is."

He hesitated for a moment, eyeing me as if to
see if I was going to make a break for the door.
Then he gave a little nod of satisfaction, turned,

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Robert Asprin

and strode into my room, closing the door behind
him.

While I couldn't make out the exact words, I
heard the arguing voices cease for a moment.
Then they were raised again in angry chorus,
punctuated by Guido's voice saying something.
Then there was silence.

After a few long moments of stillness, the door
opened again.

"You can come in now, Boss," my bodyguard
announced. "They're gone."

I left my post by the wall and re-entered my
room. A quick glance around was all it took to
confirm my bodyguard's claim. The Djins had
departed for destinations unknown. Surprisingly
enough, my immediate reaction was to be a little
hurt that they hadn't bothered to say goodbye.

I also realized that I wanted a goblet of wine,
but suppressed the desire. Instead, I perched on
the side of the bed.

"All right, Guido," I said. "What was that all
about?"

"Sorry to barge in like that, Boss," my body-
guard said, not looking at all apologetic. "You
know that's not my normal style."

"So what were you doing?"

"What I was doin' was my job," he retorted.
"As your bodyguard, I was attemptin' to protect
you from bein' hurt or maybe even killed. It's
what you pay me for, accordin' to my job descrip-
tion."

"Protecting me? From those two? Com'on,
Guido. They were just arguing. They weren't even

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

175

arguing with me. It was a family squabble be-
tween the two of them."

"Just arguing!" my bodyguard said, looming
over me. "What do you think ..."

He broke off suddenly and stepped back, breath-
ing heavy.

I was genuinely puzzled. I couldn't recall hav-
ing seen Guido more upset, but I really couldn't
figure out what was bothering him.

"Sorry, Boss," he said finally, in a more normal
tone. "I'm still a little worked up after that close
call. I'll be all right in a second."

"What close call?" I pressed. "They were
just . . ."

"I know, I know," he said, waving me to si-
lence. "They were just arguing."

He took a deep breath and flexed his arms and
hands.

"You know, Boss, I keep forgettin' how inexpe-
rienced you are. I mean, you may be tops in the
magik department, but when it comes to my
specialty, which is to say rough and tumble stuff,
you're still a babe in the woodwork."

A part of me wanted to argue this, since I had
been in some pretty nasty scrapes over the years,
but I kept my mouth shut. Guido and his cousin
Nunzio were specialists, and if nothing else over
the years I've learned to respect expertise.

"You see, Boss, people say that guys like me and
Nunzio are not really all that different from the
cops . . . that it's the same game on different
sides of the line. I dunno. It may be true. What I
am sure of, though, is that both we and our
counterparts agree on one thing: The most dan-

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Robert Asprin

gerous situation to stick your head into . . . the
situation most likely to get you dead fast . . .
isn't a shoot-out or a gang war. It's an ordinary
D&D scenario."

"D&.D," I frowned. "You mean that game you
were telling me about with the maps and the
dice?"

"No. I'm takin' about a 'domestic disturbance.'
A family squabble . . . just like you had goin' on
here when I came in. They're deadly, Boss. Espe-
cially one between a husband and wife."

I wanted to laugh, but he seemed to be utterly
serious about what he was saying.

"Are you kidding, Guido?" I said. "What could
happen that would be dangerous?"

"More things than you can imagine," he re-
plied. "That's what makes them so dangerous. In
regular hassles, you can pretty much track what's
going on and what might happen next. Argu-
ments between a husband and wife are unpredict-
able, though. You can't tell who's gonna swing at
who, when or with what, because they don't
know themselves."

I was beginning to believe what he was saying.
The concept was both fascinating and frightening.

"Why do you think that is, Guido? What makes
fights between married couples so explosive?"

My bodyguard frowned and scratched his head.

"I never really gave it much thought," he said.
"If I had to give an opinion, I'd say it was due to
the motivationals."

"The motives?" I corrected without thinking.

"That too," he nodded. "You see, Boss, the
business-type disputes which result in violence

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

177

like I am normally called upon to deal with
have origins that are easily comprehended . . .
like greed or fear. That is to say, either Boss A
wants somethin' that Boss B is reluctant to part
with, as in a good-sized hunk of revenue genera-
tin' territory, or Boss B is afraid that Boss A is
gonna try to whack him and decides to beat him
to the punch. In these situationals, there is a
clear-cut objective in mind, and the action is
therefore relatively easy to predict and counter.
Know what I mean?"

"I think so," I said. "And in a domestic distur-
bance?"

"That's where it can get ugly," he grimaced. "It
starts out with people arguin' when they don't
know why they're arguin'. What's at stake there is
emotions and hurt feelin's, not money. The prob-
lem with that is that there is no clear-cut objec-
tive, and as a result, there is no way of tellin'
when the fightin' should cease. It just keeps
escalatin' up and up, with both sides dishin' out
and takin' more and more damage, until each of
'em is hurt so bad that the only important thing
left is to hurt the other one back."

He smacked his fist loudly into his other hand,
wincing slightly when he moved his injured arm.

"When it explodes," he continued, "you don't
want to be anywhere near ground zero. One will
go at the other, or they'll go at each other, with
anything that's at hand. The worst part is, and the
reason neither us or the cops want to try to mess
with it, is that if you try to break it up, chances
are that they'll both turn on you. You see, mad as
they are, they'll still reflexively protect each

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Robert Asprln

other from any outside force . . . into which
category will fall you or anyone else who tries to
interfere. That's why the best policy, if you have a
choice at all, is to get away from them and wait
until the dust settles before venturin' close again."

This was all very interesting, particularly since
I was in the middle of contemplating marriage
myself. However, my bodyguard's wince had re-
minded me of the unanswered question originally
raised by his appearance.

"I think I understand now, Guido," I said.
"Thanks. Now tell me, what happened to your
arm? And what are you doing back at the palace?"

Guido seemed a little taken aback at the sud-
den change of topic.

"Sorry I didn't check in as soon as I got back,
Boss," he said, looking uncomfortable. "It was
late and I thought you were already asleep . . .
until I heard that argument in process, that is. I
would have let you know first thing in the morn-
ing."

"Uh-huh," I said. "No problem. But since we're
talking now, what happened?"

"We ran into a little trouble, is all," he said,
looking away. "Nothin' serious."

"Serious enough to put your arm in a sling," I
observed. "So what happened?"

"If it's okay with you, Boss, I'd rather not go
into details. Truth is, it's more than a little
embarrassing."

I was about to insist, then thought better of it.
Guido never asked for much from me, but it
seemed right now he was asking that I not push

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

179

the point. The least I could do was respect his
privacy.

"AH right," I said slowly. "We'll let it ride for
now. Will you be able to work with that arm?"

"In a pinch, maybe. But not at peak efficiency,"
he admitted. "That's really what I wanted to talk
to you about, Boss. Is there any chance you can
assign Nunzio to be Pookie's backup while I take
over his duties here?"

Realizing how infatuated Guido was with
Pookie, it was quite a request. Still, I was reluc-
tant to go along with it.

"I don't know, Guido," I said "Nunzio's been
working with Gleep to try to figure out what's
wrong with him. I kind of hate to pull him off that
until we have some answers. Tell you what. How
about if I talk to Chumley about helping out?"

"Chumley?" my bodyguard frowned. "I dunno,
Boss. Don't you think that him bein' a troll would
tend to scare folks in these parts?"

Realizing that both Guido and Nunzio relied
heavily on intimidation in their work, this was an
interesting objection. Still, he had a point.

"Doesn't Pookie have a disguise spell or some-
thing that could soften Chumley's appearance?" I
suggested. "I was assuming that she wasn't wan-
dering around the countryside showing the green
scales of a Pervect."

"Hey! That's right! Good idea, Boss," Guido
said, brightening noticeably. "In that case, no
problem. Chumley's as stand up as they come."

"Okay, I'll talk to him first thing in the morn-
ing."

"Actually, Chumley's a better choice than Nun-

180	Robert Asprin

zio," my bodyguard continued, almost to himself.
"Pookie's still kinda upset over shootin' me, and
Nunzio would probably ..."

"Whoa! Wait a minute! Did you say that Pookie
shot you?"

Guido looked startled for a moment, then he
drew himself up into a wall of righteous indigna-
tion.

"Really, Boss/' he said. "I thought we agreed
that we wasn't gonna talk about this. Not for a
while, anyway."

Chapter Sixteen:

"Marriage is a fine institution . . .
if one requires institutionalizing."

S. FREUD

"Hi, CHUMLEY. MIND if I come in?"

The troll looked up from his book, and his
enormous mouth twisted into a grin of pleasure.

"Skeeve, old boy!" he said. "Certainly. As a
matter of fact, I've been expecting you."

"Really?" I said, stepping into his room and
looking around for somewhere to sit.

"Yes. I ran into Guido this morning, and he
explained the situation to me. He said you were
going to be calling on me for a bit of work. I was
just killing time waiting for the official word, is
all."

I wondered if the briefing my bodyguard had
given Chumley was any more detailed than what
he had told me.

"It's all right with you, then?" I said. "You don't
mind?"

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Robert Asprin

"Tish tosh. Think nothing of it," the troll said.
"Truth to tell, I'll be glad to have a specific
assignment again. I've been feeling a bit at loose
ends lately. In fact, I was starting to wonder why
I was staying around at all."

That touched a nerve in me. It had been some
time since I had even stopped by to say 'Hello' to
Chumley.

"Sorry if I've been a bit distant," I said guiltily.
"I've been . . . busy . . . and . . ."

"Quite right," Chumley said with a grin and a
wink. "Caught a glimpse of your workload when
you rolled in the other night. Bit of all right,
that."

I think I actually blushed.

"No really," I stammered. "I've been . . ."

"Relax, old boy," the troll waved. "I was just
pulling your leg a bit. I know you've been up
against it, what with the Queen after you and all.
By the by, I've got a few thoughts on that, but I
figured it would be rude to offer advice when none
had been asked for."

"You do? That's terrific," I said, and meant it.
"I've been meaning to ask your opinion, but
wasn't sure how to bring it up."

"I believe you just have, actually," Chumley
grinned. "Pull up a chair."

I followed his instructions as he continued.

"Advice on marriage, particularly when it comes
to the selection of the partner to be, is usually
best kept to oneself. The recipients usually al-
ready have their minds made up, and voicing any
opinion contradictory to their decision can be
hazardous to one's health. Since you've actually

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

183

gotten around to asking, however, I think you
might find my thoughts on the matter to be a tad
surprising."

"How's that?"

"Well, most blokes who know me . . . the real
me, that is, rather than Big Crunch . . . think of
me as a bit of a romantic."

I blinked, but kept a straight face.

While I have the utmost respect for Chumley, I
had never thought of him as a romantic figure . . .
possibly something to do with his green matted
hair and huge eyes of different sizes. While I
suppose that trolls have love lives (otherwise,
how does one get little trolls?) I'd have to rate
their attractiveness in relation to dwellers of
other dimensions to be way down near the bot-
tom. Their female counterparts, the trollops, such
as his sister Tananda, were a whole different
story, of course, but for the trolls themselves . . .
on a scale of one to ten, I'd generously score them
around negative eighteen.

This particular troll, however, old friend though
he might be, was currently sitting within an arm's
length of me . . . his arm, not mine . . . and as
that arm was substantially stronger than two arms
of the strongest human . . . which I'm not ... I
decided not to argue the point with him. Heck, if he
wanted to say he was the Queen of May I'd probably
agree with him.

"For the most part, they'd be right," Chumley
was continuing, "but on the subject of marriage, I
can be as coldly analytical as the best of them."

"Terrific," I said. "That's what I was really

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Robert Asprin

hoping for. ... An unemotional, unbiased opin-
ion."

"First, let me ask you a few questions," the
troll said.

"All right."

"Do you love her?"

I paused to give the question an honest consid-
eration.

"I don't think so," I said. "Of course, I really
don't know all that much about love."

"Does she love you?"

"Again, I don't think so," I said.

I was actually enjoying this. Chumley was
breaking things down to where even I could
understand his logic.

"Well, has she said she loves you?"

That one I didn't even have to think about.

"No."

"You're sure?" the troll pressed.

"Positive," I said. "The closest she's come is to
say she thinks we'd make a good pair. I think she
meant it as a compliment."

"Good," my friend said, settling back in his
chair.

"Excuse me?" I blinked. "For a moment there,
I thought you said ..."

"I said 'Good/ and I meant it/' the troll re-
peated.

"You lost me there," I said. "I thought mar-
riages were supposed to be . . ."

"... Based on love?" Chumley finished for
me. "That's what most young people think. That's
also why so many of their marriages fall apart."

Even though he had sort of warned me in

SWEET MYTH-TERV OF LIFE

185

advance, I found the troll's position to be a bit
unsettling.

"Urn, Chumley? Are we differentiating between
'analytical' and 'cynical'?"

"It's not really as insensitive as it sounds,
Skeeve," the troll said with a laugh, apparently
unoffended by my comment. "You see, when
you're young and full of hormones, and come in
close contact for the first time with someone of
the opposite sex who isn't related to you, you
experience feelings and urges that you've never
encountered before. Now since, despite their brag-
ging to the contrary, most people are raised to think
of themselves as good and decent folks, they auto-
matically attach the socially correct label to these
feelings: Love. Of course, there's also a socially
correct response when two people feel that way
about each other . . . specifically, marriage."

"But isn't that ..." I began, but the troll held
up a restraining hand.

"Hear me out," he said. "Now, continuing with
our little saga, eventually passions cool, and the
infatuation has run it's course. It might take
years, but eventually they find that 'just being
together' isn't enough. It's time to get on with life.
Unfortunately, right about then they discover
that they have little if anything in common. All
too often they find that their goals in life are
different, or, at the very least, their plans on how
to achieve them don't coincide. Then they find,
instead of the ideal partner to stand back to back
with while taking on the world, they've actually
opened a second front. That is, they have to spend

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Robert Asprin

as much or more time dealing with each other as
they do the rest of the world."

Despite myself, I found I was being drawn in,
almost mesmerized, by his oration.

"What happens then?" I said.

"If they are at all rational . . . notice I said
'rational/ not 'intelligent' . . . they go their sepa-
rate ways. AH too often, however, they cling to the
concept of 'love' and try to 'make it work.' When
that happens, the result is an armed camp living an
uneasy truce . . . and nobody's happy ... or ac-
tually achieving their full potential."

I thought about the bickering I had recently
witnessed between Kalvin and Daphnie, and about
what Guido had told me about domestic distur-
bances and how they can explode into violence. In
spite of myself, I shuddered involuntarily.

"That sounds grim," I said.

"Oh, it is," the troll nodded. "Trying to 'make
it work' is the most frustrating, depressing pas-
time ever invented. The real problem is that
they've each ended up with the wrong person, but
rather than admit that, they try to gloss things
over with cosmetics."

"Cosmetics?"

"Surface changes. Things that really don't mat-
ter."

"I don't get it."

"All right," the troll said. "I'll give you an
example. The wife says she needs some new
clothes, so her husband gives her some money to
go out shopping. That's a rather simple and straight
forward exchange, wouldn't you say?"

"Well . . . yes."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LJFE

187

"Only on the surface," Chumley explained.
"Now look at it a little deeper ... at what's
really going on. The husband has been getting
caught up in his work . . . that's a normal reac-
tion for a man when he get's married and starts
feeling 'responsible,' by the way . . . and his
wife is feeling unhappy and ignored. Her solution
is that she needs some new clothes to make her
more attractive so her husband will pay more
attention to her. A surface solution to her unhap-
piness. Now, when she says she needs new clothes,
the husband is annoyed because she seems to
have a closet full of clothes that she never wears,
but rather than argue with her, he gives her some
money for shopping . . . again, a surface solu-
tion. You'll notice that he simply gives her the
money. He doesn't take her shopping and help her
find some new outfits."

The troll leaned back in his chair and folded his
arms.

"From there, it goes downhill. She gets some
new clothes and wears them, but the husband
either doesn't notice or doesn't comment . . .
possibly because he still resents having to pay for
what he thinks is a needless purchase. Therefore,
buying new clothes . . . her surface solution . . .
doesn't work because she still feels ignored and
unhappy . . . and a little angry and frustrated
that her husband doesn't seem to appreciate her
no matter how hard she tries. Her husband, in the
meantime, senses that she's still unhappy so that
giving her money . . . his surface solution . . .
didn't work. He feels even more bitter and resent-
ful because now it seems that his wife is going to

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Robert Asprin

be upset and unhappy even if he 'gives her every-
thing she's asked for.' You see, by trying to deal
with the problem with surface, cosmetic gestures
without acknowledging to themselves the real
issues, they've actually made things worse in-
stead of better."

He smiled triumphantly as I considered his
thesis.

"So you're saying that marriages don't work," I
said carefully, "that the concept itself is flawed."

"Not at all," the troll corrected, shaking his
head. "I was saying that getting married under the
mistaken impression that love conquers all is
courting disaster. A proper match between two
people who enter into a marriage with their eyes
open and free of romantic delusions can result in
a much happier life together than they could ever
have alone."

"All right," I said. "If love and romance are bad
bases for deciding to marry someone because it's
too easy to fool yourself, what would you see as a
valid reason to get married."

"There are lots of them," Chumley shrugged.
"Remember when Hemlock first arrived here?
Her marriage to Roderick was a treaty and a merger
between two kingdoms. It's common among roy-
alty, but you'll find similar matches in the busi-
ness world as well. In that case, both sides knew
what they wanted and could expect, so it worked
out fine."

"Sorry, but that seems a bit cold to me," I said,
shaking my head.

"Really?" the troll cocked his head. "Maybe
I'm phrasing this wrong. What you don't want is

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

189

a situation where there is a hidden agenda on
either or both sides. Everything should be up front
and on the table . . . like with the Hemlock/
Roderick marriage."

"What's a hidden agenda?"
"Hmmm . . . That one's a little hard to ex-
plain. Tell me, if you married Queen Hemlock,
what would you expect?"
That one caught me totally unprepared.
"I don't know . . . nothing, really," I managed,
at last. "I guess I figure that it would pretty much
be a marriage in name only, with her going her
way and me going mine."

"Good," the troll said emphatically.
"Good?" I echoed. "Com'on, Chumley."
"Good in that you aren't expecting anything.
You aren't going into it with the notion of reform-
ing her, or that she'd give up her throne to hover
around you adoringly, or any one of a myriad of
other false hopes or assumptions that most grooms
have on the way to the altar."
"I suppose that's good," I said.
"Good? It's vital," the troll insisted. "Too many
people marry the person they think their partner
will become. They have some sort of idea that a
marriage ceremony is somehow magical. That it
will eliminate all the dubious traits and habits
their partner had when they were single. That's
about as unrealistic as if you had expected Aahz
to stop being a money-grubber or to shed his
temper just because you signed on as an appren-
tice. Anyway, when their partner keeps right on
being the person he or she has been all along, they
feel hurt and betrayed. Since they believe that

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Robert Asprin

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

191

there should have been a change, the only con-
clusion they can reach is that their love wasn't
enough to trigger it ... or, more likely, that
there's something wrong with their partner. That's
when marriages start getting bloody. At least with
Queen Hemlock's proposal, nobody's kidding any-
body about what's going to happen."

I mulled over his words for a few moments.

"So you're saying that you think I should marry
Queen Hemlock," I said.

"Here now. Hold on," the troll said, leaning
back and holding up his hands. "I said no such
thing. That's the kind of decision that only you
can make. I was just commenting on what I see as
the more common pitfalls of marriage, is all. If
you do decide to marry the Queen, there are
certain aspects that would weigh in favor of it
working . . . but you're the one who has to de-
cide what you want out of a marriage and whether
or not this is it."

Terrific. I had been hoping that Chumley's
analytic approach would simplify things for me.
Instead, he had simply added a wagon load of
other factors to be considered. I needed that like
Deva needed more merchants.

"Well, I appreciate the input, Chumley," I said,
rising from my seat. "You've given me a lot to
think about."

"Think nothing of it, old boy. Glad to help."

"And you're all set with the assignment? Guido
told you how to hook up with Pookie?"

"Right-o."

I started to go, but paused for one more ques-
tion.

"By the way, Chumley. Have you ever been
married yourself?"

"Me?" the troll seemed genuinely surprised.
"Gracious no. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," I said, and headed out the door.

i

Chapter Seventeen:

"What am I supposed to do with all
this gold?"

MIDAS, REX

AT THIS POINT, I had to admit that I was more
confused than ever. It seemed that everyone I
talked to had a different view of marriage, which
wasn't making my decision any easier. One thing
everyone seemed to agree on, though: A bad
marriage could be a living Hell.

Of course, defining what a good marriage was
and how to avoid a bad one seemed to defy simple
explanation ... or, at least, one simple enough
that I could grasp.

The problem was, as limited as my experience
with the opposite sex was, my knowledge of
marriages, good or bad, was even sketchier. I
could barely remember my own family, I had left
home so long ago. The only married couple I had
met on my adventures was the Woof Writers, and
realizing they were werewolves I somehow didn't
193

194

Robert Asprin

think they were a valid role model for me. Then
again, Massha and Badaxe were talking about
getting married. Maybe they could provide some
insight for me.

I was considering this possibility as I wandered
across the palace courtyard, when a voice inter-
rupted my thoughts.

"Hey, Partner!"

I had to look around for a moment before I
spotted Aahz waving at me from one of the
palace's upper windows.

"Where were you this morning? We missed you
at the session with Grimble."

"I had to talk to Chumley," I called back.
"Guido got hurt, and I had to ask Chumley to
stand in for him."

"Whatever," my partner waved. "Go see
Grimble. It's important!"

That sounded vaguely ominous, but Aahz
seemed chipper enough.

"What's up?"

"Day of the eagle," he yelled, and disappeared
from sight.

Terrific!

As I redirected my steps toward Grimble's of-
fice, I couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. I
mean, with all the other problems plaguing me, I
really didn't need the added distraction of talking
to Grimble about some bird sanctuary.

"Hi, Grimble. Aahz said you wanted to see
me?"

The Chancellor glanced up to where I was
leaning against the doorway.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

195

"Ah. Lord Skeeve," he nodded. "Yes. Come in.
This shouldn't take long."

I eased into the room and plopped down in the
offered chair.

"What's the problem? Aahz said something
about eagles?"

"Eagles? I wonder what he was referring to. No,
there's no problem," Grimble said. "If anything,
quite the contrary. In fact, the new tax collection
process is working well enough that we're now in
a positive cash flow situation. What's more, I
think that except for dotting a few I's and crossing
a few T's we've got the new budget pretty well
nailed down."

He leaned back and favored me with one of his
rare smiles.

"Speaking of 'tease/ that's quite a little assis-
tant you have there. I'll admit I'm very impressed
with all her qualifications. Take my advice and
don't let her go ... as if I had to tell you that."

This was, of course, accompanied by a smirk
and a wink.

While I had grown to expect this sort of com-
ment from Grimble whenever the subject of Bunny
came up, I found I was no more fond of it than when
they had first met. At least now, he was refraining
from such behavior in her presence . . . which
was a victory of sorts, I suppose. Still, I was
annoyed and decided to take another shot at it.

"I'm surprised to hear you talk that way,
Grimble," I said. "Are you really so hung up on
hormones that you can't just acknowledge her
worth as a colleague without adding sexual innu-
endos?"

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Robert Asprin

"Well ... I ..." the Chancellor began, but I
cut him off.

". . . Especially realizing that the Queen . . .
you know, your employer? ... is also female. I
wonder if she's aware of your slanted views re-
garding her gender, or, if she isn't, how she'd react
if she found out. Do you think she'd just fire you,
or would she want to see if you were bluffing,
first? From what I can tell, she's as interested in
playing around as you claim to be."

Grimble actually blanched which, realizing how
pale his complexion was to start with, was quite a
sight.

"You wouldn't tell her, would you, Lord
Skeeve?" he stammered. "I meant no disrespect
to Bunny. Really. She has one of the best financial
minds it's been my privilege to work with . . .
male or female. I was just trying to make a little
joke. You know, man to man? It's one of the
rituals of male bonding."

"Not with all males," I pointed out. "Relax,
though. You should know me well enough by now
to realize it's not my style to go running to the
Queen with reports or complaints. Just don't push
it so hard in the future. Okay?"

"Thank you, Lord Skeeve. I ... Thanks. I'll
make a point of it."

"Now then," I said, starting to rise, "I assume
we're done here? That the report on the collec-
tions and budget was what you wanted to see me
about?"

"No, that was just a casual update," Grimble
corrected, back on familiar ground now. "The real
reason I had to see you was this."

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

197

He reached somewhere on the floor behind him
and produced a large bag which jingled as he
plopped it onto his desk.

"I don't understand," I said, eyeing the bag.
"What is it?"

"It's your wages," he smiled. "I know that
normally you let your assistants handle these
matters, but realizing the amount involved due to
your promotion, I thought you might like to deal
with it personally."

I stared at the bag uncomfortably. It was a very
big bag.

Even though I had been persuaded by Aahz and
Bunny to accept a sizable wage for my services,
looking at a number on a piece of paper was a lot
different than actually seeing the equivalent in
hard cash.

Perhaps it wouldn't seem like so much after I
had paid the others their share . . .

"Your assistants have already picked up their
wages," Grimble was saying, "so this is the last
payment to complete this round of payroll. If
you'll just sign here?"

He pushed a slip of paper across the desk at me,
but I ignored it and kept staring at the money bag.

It was a very large bag. Especially considering
how little I was actually doing.

"Is something wrong, Lord Skeeve?"

For a moment, I actually considered telling him
what was bothering me, which is a sign of how
upset I was. Grimble is not someone you confide
in.

"No. Nothing," I said instead.

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Robert Asprin

"Would you like to count it?" he pressed,
apparently still unconvinced.

"Why? Didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the Chancellor bristled, his
professional pride stung. I forced a smile.

"Good enough for me. Checking your work
would be a waste of both our time, don't you
agree?"

I quickly scribbled my name on the receipt,
gathered up the bag, and left, carefully ignoring
the puzzled look Grimble was leveling at me.

"You gonna need us for anything, Boss? You
want we should hang around out here?"

"Whatever, Guido," I waved absently as I shut
the door. "I'm going to be here for a while,
though, if you want to get something to eat. I've
got a lot to think over."

"Oh, we already ate. So we'll just . . ."

The door closed and cut off the rest of whatever
it was he was saying.

Guido and Nunzio had materialized at my side
somewhere during my walk back from Grimble's.
I wasn't sure exactly when, as I had been lost in
thought and they hadn't said anything until we
reached my room. If I had realized they were
there, I probably would have had one of them
carry the bag of gold for me. It was heavy. Very
heavy.

Setting the burden down on my desk, I sank
into a chair and stared at it. I had heard of bad
pennies coming back to haunt someone, but this
was ridiculous.

I had been so absorbed in trying to make up my

SWEET MYTH-TEKY OF LJFE

199

mind about Queen Hemlock that I hadn't gotten
around to my self-appointed task of trying to
cut back on my staff or otherwise reduce the
M.Y.T.H. Inc. bill to the kingdom. Now, I had the
money in hand, and all I felt was guilty.

No matter what Aahz and Bunny said, it still
felt wrong to me. Here we were, cutting corners
on the budget and squeezing taxes out of the
populace to try to shore up the kingdom's finan-
cial woes, while I siphoned money out of the
treasury that I didn't really need. What was more,
since it was my procrastinating on staff cuts that
had resulted in the inflated payday, I certainly
didn't think I should be rewarded for it.

The more I thought about it, the more deter-
mined I became to figure out some way to give
the money back. Of course, it would have to
be done quietly, almost secretly, or I'd suffer the
wrath of both Aahz and Bunny. Still, to me it was
necessary if I was going to be able to live with
myself.

Then, too, there was the problem of how to
reduce our payroll. Actually, if what Grimble had
just told me was accurate, that situation might
take care of itself. If the budget was coming into
balance, and if the collection process was now
flowing smoothly, then I could probably send
Bunny back to Deva, as well as one or more of my
bodyguards. What was more, I could then insist
on removing my own payment as financial coun-
selor. All that should reduce the M.Y.T.H. Inc. bill
substantially.

That still left me with the problem of how to

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Robert Asprin

deal with the disproportionate payment I had
already received.

Then an idea struck me. I'd do what any other
executive would do when confronted with a prob-
lem: I'd delegate it to someone else!

Striding to the door, I opened it and looked into
the hall. Sure enough, my two bodyguards were
still there, apparently embroiled in conversation
with each other.

"Guido! Nunzio!" I called. "Come in here for a
second."

I re-entered the room and returned to my desk
without waiting to see if they were responding. I
needn't have worried.

By the time I had re-seated myself, they were
standing in front of me.

"I have a little assignment for you boys," I said,
smiling.

"Sure, Boss," they chimed in chorus.

"But first, I want to check something. As long
as I've known you, you've both made it clear that,
in the past, you've had no qualms about bending
the rules as situations called for it, working
outside the law as it were. Is that correct?"

"That's right."

"No problem."

I noticed that, though to the affirmative, their
answers were slower and less enthusiastic than
before.

"All right. The job I have for you has to be done
secretly, with nobody knowing that I'm behind it.
Not even Aahz or Bunny. Understand?"

My bodyguards looked even more uncomfort-
able than before, but nodded their agreement.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

201

''Okay, here's the job," I said, pushing the bagol
money towards them. "I want you to take this
money and get rid of it."

The two men stared at me, then exchanged
glances.

"I don't quite get you, Boss," Guido said at last.
"What do you want us to do with it?"

"I don't care and I don't want to know," I said.
"I just want this money back in circulation within
the kingdom. Spend it or give it to charity."

Just then an idea hit me.

"Better still, figure out some way of passing it
around to those people who have been complain-
ing that they can't pay their taxes."

Guido frowned and glanced at his cousin again.

"I dunno, Boss," he said carefully. "It don't
seem right, somehow. I mean, we're supposed to
be collectin' taxes from people . . . not givin' it
to them."

"What Guido means," Nunzio put in, "is that
our speciality is extracting funds from people and
institutions. Givin' it back is a little out of our
line."

"Well then I guess it's about time you expanded
your horizons," I said, unmoving. "Anyway, that's
the assignment. Understand?"

"Yes, Boss," they chorused, still looking un-
easy.

"And remember, not a word about this to the
rest of the team."

"If you say so, Boss."

As I've said, the bag was heavy enough to have
given me trouble carrying it, but Guido gathered

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Robert Asprin

it up easily with his one good hand, then stood
hefting it for a moment.

"Umm . . . Are you sure you want to do this,
Boss?" he said. "It don't seem right, somehow.
Most folks would have to work for a lifetime to
earn this much money."

"That's my point," I muttered.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," I said. "I'm sure. Now do it.
Okay?"

"Consider it done."

They didn't quite salute, but they drew them-
selves up and nodded before they headed for the
door. I recalled they had been working with the
army for a while, and guessed that it had rubbed
off on them more than they realized.

After they had gone, I leaned back and savored
the moment.

I actually felt good! It seemed that I had found
a solution to at least one of my problems.

Maybe that had been my difficulty all this time.
I had been trying to focus on too many unrelated
problems at once. Now that the whole money
thing was off my back, I could devote my entire
attention to the Queen Hemlock situation with-
out interruptions or distractions.

For the first time in a long while, I actually felt
optimistic about being able to arrive at a decision.

I

Chapter Eighteen:

"It's so easy, a child could do it!"

THE LEGAL DISCLAIMER FOUND ON

THE INSTRUCTION SHEET OF ANY

"ASSEMBLE IT YOURSELF" KIT

"BLAH BLAH BLAH flowers, blah blah blah protocol.
Understood?"

"Uh-huh," I said, looking out the window.

When I had agreed to hear the plans for the
upcoming marriage between Massha and General
Badaxe, I had done it without realizing how long
it would take or how complex the ceremony
would be. After several hours of this/ however, I
realized that my own part was going to be mini-
mal, and was having a great deal of difficulty
paying attention to the myriad of details.

"Of course, blah blah blah . . ."

And they were off again.

A bird landed on a branch outside the window

and began gobbling down a worm. I found myself

envying him. Not that I was particularly hungry,

mind you. It was just that the way my life had

203

204	Robert Asprin

been going lately, eating a worm seemed like a
preferable alternative.

"Have you got that? Skeeve?"

I jerked my head back to the task at hand, only
to find my massive apprentice peering at me
intently. Obviously, I had just missed something I
was supposed to respond to.

"Umm . . . Not really, Massha. Could you sum-
marize it again briefly so I can be sure I have it
right?"

I didn't mean to emphasize the word 'briefly/
but she caught it anyway.

"Hmmm," she said, fixing me with a suspi-
cious stare. "Maybe we should take a break for a
few minutes," she said. "I think we could all do
with a good stretch of the legs."

"If you say so, my dear," the General said,
rising obediently to his feet.

I admired his stamina . . . and his patience. I
was sure that this was as tedious for him as it was
for me, but you'd never tell it to look at him.

I started to rise as well, then sank back quickly
into my seat as a wave of dizziness hit me.

"Hey Skeeve! Are you all right?"

Massha was suddenly more concerned than she
had been a moment before.

"I'm fine," I said, trying to focus my eyes.

"Would you like some wine?"

"No!! I mean, I'm all right. Really. I just didn't
get much sleep last night is all."

"Uh-huh. Out tom-catting again, were you, Hot
Stuff?"

Normally, I kind of enjoyed Massha's banter.
Today, though, I was just too tired to play.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

205

"Actually, I went to bed fairly early," I said,
stuffily- "I just had a lot of trouble getting to
sleep. I guess there was just too much on my
mind to relax."

That was a bit of an understatement. Actually,
I had tossed and turned most of the night . . .
just as I had for the two previous nights. I had
hoped that once I had dealt with the money
problems I had been wrestling with, I could con-
centrate on making up my mind about whether or
not to marry Queen Hemlock. Instead, all the
factors and ramifications kept dancing in my
head, jostling in my head, jostling each other for
importance, until I couldn't focus on any of them.
Unfortunately, I couldn't put them aside, either.

"Uh-huh," she said, peering at me carefully.

Whatever she saw, she didn't like. Pushing two
chairs together, she sat down next to me a put a
motherly hand on my shoulder.

"Come on, Skeeve," she said. "Tell Massha all
about it. What is it that's eating you up lately?"

"It's this whole thing about whether or not to
marry Queen Hemlock," I said. "I just can't seem
to make up my mind. As near as I can tell, there
isn't a clear cut right answer. Any option I have
seems to be loaded with negatives. Whatever I do
is going to affect so many people, I'm paralytic for
fear of doing the wrong thing. I'm so afraid of
doing something wrong, I'm not doing anything
at all."

Massha heaved a great sigh.

"Well, I can't make that call for you, Skeeve.
Nobody can. If it's any help, though, you should
know that you're loved, and that your friends will

206

Robert Asprin

stand by whatever decision you reach. I know it's
rough right now, but we have every faith that
you'll do the right thing."

I guess that was supposed to be reassuring. It
flashed across my mind, however, that I really
didn't need to be reminded of how much everyone
was counting on me to reach the right decision . . .
when after weeks of deliberation I still didn't have
the foggiest idea of what the right decision was!
Still, my apprentice was trying to help the only
way she knew how, and I didn't want to hurt her
for that.

"Thanks, Massha," I said, forcing a smile. "That
does help a bit."

"Ahem."

I glanced up to see General Badaxe stepping
forward. He had been so quiet I had forgotten he
was in the room until he cleared his voice.

"Will you excuse us, my dear? I'd like to have a
word with Lord Skeeve."

Massha glanced back and forth between the
General and me, then shrugged.

"Sure thing, Hugh. Gods know I've got enough
to keep me busy for a while. Catch you later, Hot
Shot."

The General closed the door behind her, then
stood regarding me for several moments. Then he
came over to where I was standing and placed
both of his hands on my shoulders.

"Lord Skeeve," he said. "May I be permitted the
privilege of speaking to you, of treating you for a
few moments as if you were my own son ... or
a man under my command in the Army?"

"Certainly, General," I said, genuinely touched.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

207

"Fine," he smiled. "Turn around."

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'Turn around.' Face in the other direc-
tion, if you will."

Puzzled, I turned my back on him and waited.

Suddenly, something slammed into my rear
end, propelling me forward with such force that I
nearly fell, saving myself only by catching my
weight with my hands and one knee.

I was shocked.

Incredible as it seemed, I had every reason to
believe the General had just kicked me in the
rump!

"You kicked me!" I said, still not quite believ-
ing it.

"That's right," Badaxe said calmly. "Frankly,
it's long overdue. I had considered hitting you
over the head, but it seems that lately your brains
are located at the other end."

Grudgingly, I began to believe it.

"But why?" I demanded.

"Because, Lord Skeeve, with all respect and
courtesies due your station and rank, it is my
studied opinion that you've been acting like the
north end of a south-bound horse."

That was clear enough. Surprisingly poetic for a
military man, but clear.

"Could you be a bit more specific?" I said, with
as much dignity as I could muster.

"I'm referring to your possible marriage to
Queen Hemlock, of course," he said. "Or, more
specifically, your difficulty in making up your
mind. You're agonizing over the decision, when

208

Robert Asprln

it's obvious to the most casual observer that you
don't want to marry her."

"There are bigger issues at stake here than what
I want, General," I said wearily.

"Bullshit," Badaxe said firmly.

"What?"

"I said 'Bullshit,'" the General repeated, "and I
meant it. What you want is the only issue worth
considering."

I found myself smiling in spite of my depres-
sion.

"Excuse me, General, but isn't that a little
strange coming from you?"

"How so?"

"Well, as a soldier, you've devoted your life to
the rigors of training and combat. The whole
military system is based on self-sacrifice and self-
denial, isn't it?"

"Perhaps," Badaxe said. "Has it occurred to
you, though, that it's simply a means to an end?
The whole idea of being prepared for combat is to
be able to defend or exert what you want against
what someone else wants."

I sat up straight.

"I never thought of it that way."

"It's the only way to think of it," the General
said, firmly. "Oh, I know a lot of people see a
soldier's life as being subservient. That it's the
role of a mindless robot subject to the nonsensical
orders and whims of his superior officers . . .
including Generals. The fact is that an army has
to be united in purpose, or it's ineffectual. Each
man in it voluntarily agrees to follow the chain of
command because it's the most effective way to

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

209

achieve a common goal. A soldier who doesn't
know what he wants or why he's fighting is
worthless. Even worse, he's a danger to anyone
and everyone who's counting on him."

He paused, then shook his head.

"For the moment, however, let's consider this
on a smaller scale. Think of a young man who
trains himself so that he won't be bullied by older,
larger men. He lifts weights to develop his muscles,
studies various forms of armed and unarmed com-
bat, and practices long hard hours with one objec-
tive in mind: To harden himself to where he won't
have to knuckle under to anyone."

The General smiled.

"What would you say, then, if that same young
man subsequently let every pipsqueak and bravo
shove him around because he was afraid he'd hurt
them if he pushed back?"

"I'd say he was a bloody idiot."

"Yes," Badaxe nodded. "You are."

"Me?"

"Certainly," the General said, starting to look a
little vexed. "Didn't you recognize yourself in the
picture I just described?"

"General," I said, wearily, "I haven't gotten
much sleep for several days now. Forgive me if
I'm not tracking at my normal speed, but you're
going to have to spell it out for me."

"Very well. I spoke about a young man building
himself up physically. Well, you, my young friend,
are probably the most formidable man I know."

"I am?"

"Beyond a doubt. What's more, like the young
man in my example, you've built yourself up over

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Robert Asprin

the years . . . even in the time I've known you.
With your magikal skills and wealth, not to
mention your allies, supporters, and contacts, you
don't have to do anything you don't want to.
What's more, you've proved that time and time
again against some very impressive opposition."

He smiled and laid a surprisingly gentle hand
on my shoulder.

"And now you tell me that you have to marry
Hemlock even though you don't want to? I don't
believe it."

"Well, the option is that she abdicates and I'm
stuck with being king," I said, bitterly. "I want
that even less."

"Then don't do that, either," the General
shrugged. "How is anyone going to force you to do
either if you don't voluntarily go along with it? I
know I wouldn't want the job."

His simple analysis gave me a thread of hope,
but I was still reluctant to grab for it.

"But people are counting on me," I protested.

"People are counting on you to do what is right
for you." Badaxe said firmly. "Though it's hard for
you to see, they're assuming that you'll do what
you want to do. You should have listened more
closely to what my bride to be was saying to you.
If you want to marry Queen Hemlock, they'll
support you by not standing in the way or giving
you grief. Do you really think, though, that if you
firmly state that you want to continue working
with them, that they won't support that with as
much or more enthusiasm? That's what Massha
was trying to say, but I think she was saying it too
gently for you to hear. Everyone's been too gentle

SWEET MYTH-TEHY OF LIFE

211

with you. Since you don't seem to know what you
want, they've been walking on eggshells around
you to let you sort it out. In the meantime, you've
been straining to hear what everyone else wants
rather than simply relaxing and admitting what
you want."

I couldn't suppress my smile.

"Well, General," I said, "if there's one thing no
one could accuse you of, it would be of not
treating me overly gently."

"It seemed appropriate."

"That wasn't a complaint," I laughed. I was
feeling good now, and didn't bother trying to hide
it. "It was admiration . . . and thanks."

I extended my hand. He gathered it into his
own and we exchanged a single, brief shake that
sealed a new level in our friendship.

"I take it that you've reached your decision
then?" Badaxe said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Affirmative," I smiled. "And your guess as to
what it is would be correct. Thank you, sir. I hope
it goes without saying that I'd like to return the
favor sometime, should the opportunity present
itself."

"Hmmm ... If you could, perhaps, show a
little greater interest in the plans for the wed-
ding," the General said. "Particularly if you could
come up with a way to shorten the planning
procedure?"

"I can shorten today's session," I said. "Give
Massha my apologies, but I feel the need to meet
with Queen Hemlock. Perhaps we can continue
the session tomorrow."

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Robert Asprin

"That isn't shortening the process/' Badaxe
scowled. "It's prolonging it."

"Sorry, General/' I laughed, heading out the
back door. "The only other suggestion I'd have is
to convince her to elope. I'll hold the ladder for
you."

Chapter Nineteen:

"There must be fifty ways to leave
your lover!"

P. SIMON

MY MIND FINALLY made up at last, I set out to give
the news to Queen Hemlock. I mean, since she
was waiting for a decision from me, it wouldn't
be right to delay sharing it once it had been made.
Right? The fact that if I waited too long, I might
chicken out entirely had nothing to do with it.
Right?

Suddenly, I was very aware of the absence of my
bodyguards. When I had given them their assign-
ment to distribute my unwanted cash, it had been
under the assumption that I was in no particular
danger while here at the palace.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

I had noticed back when we first met, when I

was masquerading as King Rodrick, that Queen

Hemlock had a nasty, perhaps even a murderous

streak in her. There had been no evidence of it

213

214

Robert Asprin

lately, but then again, I wasn't aware of her having
received any bad news of a degree such as I was
bringing her, either.

I shook my head and told myself I was being
silly. At her worst, the Queen was not taken to
open, unpremeditated violence. If it looked like
she was taking the news badly, I could simply
gather the crew and skip off to another dimension
before she could get around to formulating a plan
for revenge. There was absolutely no reason for
me to need bodyguards to protect me from her.
Right?

I was still trying to convince myself of this
when I reached the Queen's chambers. The honor
guard standing outside her door snapped to atten-
tion, and it was too late for a graceful retreat.

Moving with a casualness I didn't feel, I knocked
on her door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Skeeve, Your Majesty. I was wondering if I
might speak to you if it's not inconvenient?"

There was a pause, long enough for me to get
my hope up, and then the door opened.

"Lord Skeeve. This is a pleasant surprise. Please,
come right in."

Queen Hemlock was dressed in a simple orange
gown, which was a pleasant surprise. That she
was dressed, that is, not the color of it. The first
time she had entertained me in her quarters, she
had been naked when she opened the door, and it
had put me at an uncomfortable disadvantage for
that conversation. This time around, I figured I
was going to need all the advantages I could
muster.

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

215

"Your Majesty," I said, entering the room. I
looked about quickly as she was shutting the
door, and, when she turned, gestured toward a
chair. "Please, if you could take a seat?"

She raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but
took the indicated seat without argument.

"What's this all about, Skeeve?" she said. "You
look so solemn."

There was no way of stalling further, so I
plunged in.

"I wanted to let you know that I've made my
decision regarding marrying you," I said.

"And that is?"

"I ... Your Majesty, I'm both honored and
flattered that you would consider me worthy of
being your consort. I had never dreamed that such
a possibility existed, and, when it was suggested,
had to take time to examine the concept."

"And . . ." she urged.

I realized that no amount of sugar coating
would change the basic content of my decision, so
I simply went for it.

"My final conclusion," I said, "is that I'm not
ready for marriage at this time ... to you or
anyone else. To try to pretend otherwise would be
a vast disservice to that person . . . and to myself.
Between my work and studies as a magician, and
my desire to travel and visit other dimensions, I
simply have no time or interest in settling down
right now. If I did, I would doubtless end up
resenting whoever or whatever had forced me to
do so. As such, I fear I must decline your kind
offer."

Having said it, I braced myself for her reaction.

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Robert Asprin

"Okay," she said.

I waited for a moment for her to continue, but
when she didn't, I felt compelled to.

"As to your abdicating the throne to me . . .
Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. I have no
qualifications or desire to be the ruler of a kingdom.
At best, I'm a good advisor . . . and even that's
only with the considerable help of my colleagues
and friends. I fear that if I were to attempt to
undertake such a responsibility, the kingdom
would suffer badly ... I know I would . . .
and . . . and . . ."

My oration ground to a halt as I saw that she
was laughing.

"Your Majesty? Excuse me. Did I say something
funny?"

"Oh Skeeve," she gasped, coming up for air.
"Did you really think ... Of course I'm not
going to give up the throne. Are you kidding? I
love being Queen."

"You do? But you said . . ."

"Oh, I say lots of things," she said, waving a
negligent hand. "One of the nice things about
being royalty is that you get to decide for yourself
which of the things you say are for real and which
should be ignored."

To say the least, I was confused.

"Then why did you say that if you didn't intend
to follow through?" I said. "And how about your
marriage proposal? Didn't you mean that, ei-
ther?"

"Oh, I meant it all right," she smiled. "But I
didn't really expect you to want to marry me. I
mean, why should you? You've already got wealth

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

217

and power without being tied down to a throne or
a wife. Why should you want to stay here and play
second banana to me when you could be off
hopping around the world or wherever it is that
you go as the one and only Great Skeeve? It would
have been fabulous lor me and the kingdom to
have you tied into us permanently, but there
weren't any real benefits for you. That's why I
came up with that abdication thing."

"Abdication thing?" I echoed weakly.

"Sure. I knew you didn't want to be a king. If
you had, you would have kept the throne back
when Roddie had you pose as him. Anyway, I
figured that if you didn't want it bad enough, it
just might make a big enough threat to lure you
into playing consort for me instead."

She made a little face.

"I know it was weak, but it was the only card I
had to play. What else could I do? Threaten you?
With what? Even it I managed to come up with
something that would present a threat to you and
that menagerie of yours, all you'd have to do is
wave your hands and blink off to somewhere else.
It simply wouldn't be worth the effort and expense
to keep tracking you down ... no offense. Going
with the abdication thing, I at least had a chance of
getting you to consider marrying me . . . and if
nothing came of it, no harm done."

I thought of the days and nights I had been
spending agonizing over my decision. Then I
thought about throttling the Queen.

"No harm done," I agreed.

"So," she said, settling back in her chair, "that's

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that. No marriage, no abdication. At least we can
still be friends, can't we?"

"Friends? "I blinked.

Even though I had met her some time back, I
had never really thought of Queen Hemlock as a
friend.

"Why not?" she shrugged. "If I can't have you
as a consort, I'm willing to give it a try as a friend.
From what I've seen, you're pretty loyal to your
friends, and I'd like to have some tie to you."

"But why should that be important to you?
You're a Queen, and the ruler of a fairly vast
kingdom to boot."

Hemlock cocked her head at me curiously.

"You really don't know, do you Skeeve? You're
quite a powerful man yourself, Skeeve. I'd much
rather have you as an ally, to the kingdom and for
myself, than as an enemy. If you check around, I
think you'll find a lot of people who would."

That sounded remarkably like what Badaxe had
pointed out to me earlier.

"Besides," the Queen added, "you're a nice guy,
and I don't really have many friends. You know,
people I can talk to as equals who aren't afraid of
me? I think in the long run, we have more
problems in common than you realize."

"Except I'm in a better position to still be able
to do what I want," I finished thoughtfully.

"Don't rub it in," Hemlock said, wrinkling her
nose. "Well, what do you say? Friends?"

"Friends," I smiled.

On an impulse, I took her hand and kissed it
lightly, then stood holding it for a few moments.

"If I may, Your Majesty, let me add my personal

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

219

thanks to you for taking my refusal so well? Even
if you more than half expected it, it still must
have stung your pride a bit. It must have been
tempting to make me squirm a little in return."

The Queen threw back her head and laughed
again.

"It wouldn't be real smart of me to give you a
rough time, now, would it?" she said. "As I said
before, you can be a real help to the kingdom,
Skeeve, even if it only means hiring you occasion-
ally as an independent contractor. If I made you
feel too bad about not marrying me, then you
wouldn't ever want to see me or the kingdom
again."

"I really don't know," I admitted. "The court of
Possiltum gave me my first paying job as a magi-
cian. I'll probably always have a bit of a soft spot
for it. Then, too, Your Majesty is not without
charm as a woman."

That last bit sort of slipped out, but the Queen
didn't seem to mind.

"Just not quite charming enough to settle down
with, eh?" she smiled. "Well, let me know when
you have some leisure time on your hands, and
maybe we can explore some alternatives together."

That really took me aback.

"Ahh . . . certainly, Your Majesty. In the mean-
time, however, I fear it's nearly time for my
colleagues and I to take our leave of Possiltum.
From what Grimble tells me, the kingdom is
nearly back on solid financial footing, and there
are pressing matters which require our attention
elsewhere."

"Of course," she said, rising to her feet. "Go

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with my personal gratitude, as well as the fees
you so richly deserve. I'll be in touch."

I was so uncomfortable about the reference to
our fees, that I was nearly to the door before her
last comment sank in.

"Umm . . . Your Majesty?" I said, turning back
to her. "One more thing. Next time you need me,
could you just write a note like everyone else
instead of sending me a finger? It was a bit unnerv-
ing when it arrived."

"No problem," she said. "By the way, could I
have the finger back? If nothing else, I'd like to
have the ring to remember Roddie by."

"I thought you had it." I frowned. "I haven't
seen it since our conversation when I first got
back here."

"Hmm ... I wonder where it's gotten to. Oh
well, I'll put the maids to work looking for it. If
you happen to come across it in your things, be a
dear and send it back to me?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty. Goodbye."

With that, I gave her my deepest bow and left.

Chapter Twenty:

"Meanwhile, back at reality ..."

G. LUCAS

I FELT AS if a huge weight had been lifted from my
back! For the first time since my return from
Perv, I was in control of my own destiny!

No more wondering about what I should or
shouldn't do about marrying Queen Hemlock for
the good of the kingdom, or the good of the
team ... or the good of civilization, for that
matter. Things were back in perspective! My
future was mine to do with as I wished, without
the pressure of trying to sort out what was best for
others.

I found myself whistling to myself as I strode
through the castle corridors, something I hadn't
done in a long while, and had to fight the temp-
tation to break into a jig.

As soon as that realization hit, that I was
resisting a temptation, I immediately did a little
hop-skip.

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Robert Asprin

I was through trying to judge everything I
did on whether or not other people thought it
was proper ... or, more specifically, whether I
thought other people would think it was proper.
From now on, I was going to do what / wanted to
do ... and the rest of the world, or the dimen-
sions at large, could just bloody well adapt!

With that decision, I threw in an extra high
kick. It may not have been classic dance, but it
felt good. Heck! / felt good. Better than I could
ever remember feeling.

I became aware of a couple people staring at me
from afar, and a few more craning their necks for
a better look. Rather than feeling embarrassed or
self-conscious, I waved at them gaily and contin-
ued my prancing.

I had to tell someone! Share my new-found
happiness with my friends. They had all stood by
me through the bad times. Now I wanted to be
with them when I felt good!

I'd tell Bunny ... no, Aahz! I'd tell Aahz first
and then Bunny. My partner deserved to be the
first to know.

"Hey Boss! Skeeve!"

I turned to see Nunzio beckoning me from the
other end of the corridor. I was surprised to see him,
and started to wave. Then it dawned on me that
this was the first time he had ever called me to
join him instead of the other way around. A
feeling of alarm swept away my earlier euphoria.

"Come quick, Boss! It's important!"

My fears were confirmed. Something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.

I hurried to join him, but he moved off down

SWEET MYTH-TERY OF LIFE

223

corridor ahead of me, looking back from time
:o time to see if I was following.

"Wait for me, Nunzio!" I called.

"Hurry, Boss!" he replied, not slackening his
pace.

I was starting to get a bit winded trying to catch
up with him, but if anything he seemed to be
increasing his speed. Then he ducked down a
flight of stairs, and an idea came to me.

When I reached the stairs, instead of descending
normally, I vaulted over the railing and used my
magik to fly (which is really levitation in reverse)
after him. This seemed to be a bit faster than
running, and certainly a lot easier on the lungs, so
I kept it up. I managed to catch my breath and
catch up with my bodyguard just as we were
emerging into the palace courtyard.

"What's this all about, Nunzio?" I said, slowing
my speed to match his pace.

Instead of answering, he pointed ahead.

There was a group of people gathered in the
courtyard. Some were guards or other people I had
seen around the palace, but there also seemed to
be a batch of costumed characters with them.
Then I saw Guido and Pookie in the group . . .
and Aahz!

"Hey Aahz! What's happening?" I called.

At the sound of my voice, the whole group
looked in my direction, then fell back slightly
and . . .

And then I saw what they were gathered around.

"GLEEP!"

My pet dragon was lying on his side, showing
no sign of his usual energy and life.

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Robert Asprin

I don't recall landing ... or of moving at all. I
just remember crouching at my pet's side and
gathering his head into my lap.

"What's wrong, fellah?" I said, but got no re-
sponse. "Aahz? What's the matter with him?"

"Skeeve, I ..." my partner began, but then I
saw it.

Protruding from Gleep's side, just behind his
leg, was an arrow!

At that moment, I felt my pet stir in my arms,
weakly trying to raise his head.

"Take it easy, fellah," I said, trying to sound
soothing.

Gleep's eyes found mine.

"Skeeve?" he said faintly, then went limp, his
head falling back on my lap.

He had said my name! The first thing he had
ever said other than the sound that had given him
his name.

I carefully eased his head onto the ground and
rose. I stood looking down at him for several
moments, then raised my eyes to the surrounding
crowd. I don't know what my expression was, but
they all gave ground several steps as my gaze
passed over them.

When I spoke, I tried to keep my voice soft and
level, but it seemed to come from far away.

"All right," I said. "I want to know what's been
going on here . . . and I want to know now!!"

Indeed, what has been going on while Skeeve was
preoccupied? Here is an advance peek at the next
MythAdventure!

SOMETHING M.Y.T.H. INC.

Robert Asprin
Prologue

Like wildfire, word spread throughout the land . . .
from town to village, from peddlar to peasant. . .
that their once idyllic kingdom was now under the
control of a mighty magician who held the Queen
in thrall

Though it was customary for the common folk
to pay little attention to who it was that ruled
them, much less the antics and machinations of
palace politics, this time it was different.

It was clear to even a casual observer that the
magician dabbled in the Black Arts. He openly
associated with and sought counsel from de-
mons, who even now roamed the corridors of the
palace. As further evidence of his other-worldly
nature and preferences, the magician kept a fierce
dragon as a pet . . . a rarity that even the ani-
mal-loving ecologists of the land found disquiet-
225