Class Dis-Mythed

"So, what brings you out of your self-imposed exile, Hot Stuff?" she asked, directing me and my party to cushiony divans that took up most of the spare living space in her and Hugh Badaxe's cosy love nest. The cottage, occupying a corner of the courtyard in the center of the castle environs, actually had fewer square feet than the Court Magician's apartments itself, but with no shared walls to the rest of the castle it had the benefit of privacy. She pointed a finger at a drinks tray on a small table in the corner. The tray lifted itself into the air and settled on the fussily-carved wooden table at the center of the room. The stopper rose from the neck of the handsomely cut crystal bottle, which upended and poured amber liquid into five crystal glasses. Massha only let magik take it so far; she went over to pass the drinks around herself. "Bunny's okay?"

I accepted a glass. "She's fine. She wanted me to ask you when you were getting on the Crystal Ball Network."

Massha waved a hand. "I don't have time for remote entertainment, honey. We've got an invitational tournament coming up next month, and Hemlock wants me to put on a big show. You know," she added, waving a hand. Six miniature golden dragonets flew out of her fingertips carrying banners reading "Massha's Big Show!"

I chuckled.

"But aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" She fluttered her lashes madly at the handsome young Klahd in gartered tights who struggled to keep his tunic from rising up to his waist in the thick velvet cushions.

"Save it, toots," Jinetta snapped, momentarily distracted from her hemline. "You're not my type."

Massha goggled then rose into the air, her face red with embarrassment. "I don't know where you came from, buddy, but around here you call me Lady Magician or ma'am!"

"It's not what you think," I said hastily, leaping up. "Girls, drop the disguises."

"Girls?" Massha echoed.

With a couple of whisks, the illusions faded, leaving three business-suited Pervects glaring at Massha.

"No wonder!" Massha said. Instantly, she went to a pair of cupboard doors in the wall and took out three huge steins and a gallon jug of liquor. "Let me offer you something more to your capacity, ladies. Here." She exchanged the delicate little crystal tumblers for more substantial servings of liquor.

"Thanks," Freezia said, raising the big glass to her lips. "Down the hatch!" She gulped her drink and held out the stein for more.

"So, what are you three doing in Possiltum?" Massha asked as she poured. The three Pervects glanced at one another uneasily.

"Uh, Massha," I said, "Can I see you alone for a moment?"

"Sure!" she said brightly, pulling me into her small kitchen. She beamed at the Pervects. "Excuse us a moment." She waved

a gadget I recognized as her 'cone of silence.' My three students could no longer hear us. They shot me worried glances, so I just smiled reassuringly at them. Massha watched the exchange curiously. "So, what's up, Big Guy? Who are they?"

"They're temporary apprentices." I explained how Aahz had sent them to me. "They said they need some specialized training. I, er, brought them here hoping you could help me out. I'm pretty deep in my studies right now. I thought you could give them a couple weeks' instruction in what you're doing here. Practical stuff. They could help you with the festival," I concluded hopefully. "By then I'll have figured out what I can do to help them. I really haven't got a clue how to train them."

Massha shook her head. "Gee, that's too bad. I wish I could help, but I can't. In fact, I was going to visit you in the next couple of days. I have a pupil I wanted you to train."

"Me?" I squeaked.

"Yes!" Massha said, pleased. "And now that you have other students, he'll have the benefit of working with others to help him with his lessons. He's a nice kid. You'll like him. Bee! C'mere, honey!" she shouted out the cottage's back door.

Beside the well in the courtyard, a stick with ears rose to its feet. I realized at once it was a skinny young man, maybe my age or a year or two older. He had a friendly freckled face with big ears and a pop-jawed grin. When he saw me, the grin widened but his eyes dropped shyly.

"Skeeve the Magnificent, this is Corporal Bee, late of Her Majesty's army. He mustered out last week and came to see me," Massha explained. "He wants to study magik." The young man hesitated. I put out my hand and he shook it with a powerful grip that his slender frame belied. "All he needs to know is how to get along in the big bad world. The army's been good for Bee. He's had orienteering skills and survival skills hammered into him, and he has spatial relationships down pat, but he's not great at self-direction and personal organization. He'd get taken advantage of in a sophisticated scuffle."

"So could I," I muttered. But I got the point. I could help with that.

"Glad to meet you, sir," Bee stammered. "I heard a lot about you. Sergeant Swatter, I mean, Guido told me—you don't look the way he described you—"