Myth Alliances

"How did you figure that out?" I said, genuinely curious. While Zol could be a bit of a pain, there were times when I was overawed by his applications of logic.

"Why from the object that Mistress Tananda ab- stracted," Zol explained, holding up the spectacles. He put them on his own nose. The ear pieces slid down the sides of his head, having no visible ears to clip onto, but the spectacles were still too wide to fit. "It must be put on willingly; there is no spell, strap or adhesive to adhere it to the wearer's head. Once donned it is bespelled to speak directly into the wearer's mind, and to transmit a good deal of data therein."

"What kind of data?" I asked suspiciously.

"Fantasies," Zol frowned. "Nonsense. Mind-filling trash that numbs the emotions and dulls the calculating faculties."

I was horrified. "They're going to take over another dimension by brainwashing the inhabitants. Who is it? Where is it? We've got to go there and warn them!"

"We have reduced the number of possibilities to thirty-five dimensions," Zol calculated, peering into the magik mirror of his book. "It will take some time to narrow our target further."

"We can visit each one," I offered. "As soon as one of us spots these glasses, we'll know we're there."

"It would be easier to wait for the data," Zol suggested. "Don't exhaust yourselves searching unnecessarily. Let our fingers do the walking."

I glanced at my companions.

"I have to admit it makes sense," Tananda shrugged. "Dimensions can be big places. This isn't like a house-to-house search."

"Okay," I agreed at last, though I was itching to go in search of the Pervect Ten's latest victims and liberate them. "We'll wait."

Paldine paused until Vergetta and Oshleen materialized beside her on the steps of the First General Savings Bank of Scamaroni, Volute branch. Volute was a medium-sized town within a day's ride of the capital city. Merchants, mostly those who had big holdings in dry goods, kept their factories here, where they could oversee them from their vast and handsome manors. Privilege oozed out of every pore. Even second, third and fourth children had their own carriages. Babies were tended by captive or indentured Genies and Brownies. Even the working class had good clothes, whole shoes and a general air of cleanliness. Theaters and other entertainments abounded, including magikal revues and small venues for performing wizards. They'd ascended far enough above peasantry to be the ideal market for the storytelling goggles. Scamaroni was not unlike Perv, Paldine mused, of several hundred years before—if that unnamed Pervect had not discovered electricity and realized it was good for more than a really hilarious practical joke. A statue to that long-ago inventor still stood in the capital, lightning jolting upward from its outstretched palm, though the name had been excised centuries ago, probably by the families of jealous rivals who would like to have taken credit for such a revelation, or by outraged consumers because he had tried to extort a royalty every time someone plugged in a vacuum cleaner. A greedy bastard after Paldine's own heart.

"And we're here for what, this early in the morning?" Vergetta asked, as Paldine pulled them into the alley between two buildings to avoid being seen by the locals. "Take it easy on the material, darling."

"To see the evolution of our marketing empire," Paldine gloated, pointing. "See there?"

"It's a shop. I've seen thousands."

"It's our first outlet. I signed him up yesterday. The shop owner, who, by the way, owns ten stores in Volute alone, loved the goggles. His mate loved them. Their children loved them. They thought they were fabulous, the best entertainment they had ever seen. Once he got over being awed at my appearance, he bargained like a Deveel..." "What, that badly?" Oshleen. asked with mock innocence, polishing her nails on her designer dress.

Paldine ignored her. "... for an exclusive license to distribute on Scamaroni."

Vergetta grinned, a sight that made the vermin in the alley flee, squeaking. "For which you made him pay through the nose, of course."

"If you call that outrageous protuberance in the middle of their faces a nose, yes," Paldine replied. "He would have promised me anything to get his hands on them. He thinks he can sell a thousand a month in this town alone, and plans to expand to the capital as soon as he has merchandise. I already notified Niki to get the Wuhses to start manufacturing more."

"Isn't that putting the cart before the horse, to use a backward expression for a backward place?" Oshleen sneered.