Myth Alliances

"That," Tananda announced, once we had all gotten over the shock, "is one powerful group of magicians. Two couldn't have done such a mass working by themselves. Not even ten of them could have. What we saw them do the other day to combine their power has to be unique. I feel outgunned and outclassed."

"And yet they temper their actions with mercy," Zol muttered, writing furiously. "Intriguing."

I thought for a moment. "It doesn't sound like mercy so much as a warning. They don't want to destroy their workforce. They'd have to train thousands of new Wuhses to do the work."

"But what about our revolution?" Montgomery said.

Zol gave a rueful smile. "And with such a demonstration of power, will you refuse to do your work tomorrow?"

"No!" the innkeeper exclaimed, his slitted pupils wide. "No, I'll get up early! I'll work late. Providing we can all get out of here in the morning, that is."

"What about Wensley?" I asked.

"Oh, he don't live here, Master Skeeve. You ought to try his house. And on the way past, if you'd be so kind to drop in at Carredelest's delicatessen? He lives above his shop. There's not a bite to eat on the premises, and I can't get out of here to pick up my order."

"Sure," I agreed, absently. "Where does Wensley live?"

TWENTY

"There's something funny going on here."

—g. carlin

"I'm sorry," responded a petite female Wuhs with dark curls, through the window of a pleasant blue house several blocks from the inn. "My mate is not here."

"That's strange," I murmered, almost to myself. "Everyone else was returned to their homes."

"He could be with his parents," Kassery suggested apologetically. "They are not well. He is there as often as he is here. I applaud his eagerness to be a dutiful son."

"Hmm." I nodded slowly. "That might explain it. Could you tell us how to get to their home?"

"They don't live in Pareley," Kassery offered. "I could send them a note ... if I could leave here, but at present I am finding it difficult... very difficult. Is it possible that I might be allowed an explanation of my temporary indisposition? Not that I am upset about it, of course," she added hastily.

As quickly as I could I told her what had happened. "No, no, no," the female shook her head disbelievingly. 'This is not my Wensley. It couldn't be." Following Kassery's instructions, we traveled out a few days' journey into the countryside to a small village in Rennet, in the midst of a great forest just beyond the borders of Pareley. Gouda and Edam, Wensley's mother and father, the local apothecary and schoolmaster, were as puzzled as we were.

"He hasn't been here in some weeks," Gouda explained, serving us tea in a scrupulously clean kitchen. She was a plump little woman, with soft, very deft hands. "He said he's involved in a project for the common good. I might make a guess, though you can tell me if I'm wrong, and I probably am, that you are involved in that project?"

"I think we are the project," I explained. "It's just that we've lost track of him." I glanced at the others, and they nodded. No sense in worrying them, when they could do nothing.

"I thought as much. It's clever of him to bring demons to enrich our local Wuhs culture, when all the others he knows are bringing back inanimate souvenirs. Why, they can't talk, can they?"

I knew plenty of knickknacks that could talk, and more, but I didn't believe then was the time to bring that fact up. "He definitely had ... has a purpose for us," I said, hastily correcting myself. I had to stop talking; my concern for the missing Wensley was making my tongue trip over itself, and it really didn't need the help. "We're trying to live up to his expectations."

Gouda smiled. "He's such an intelligent boy, so curious, though I probably shouldn't brag about him to you ... but would you care to see some pictures of him as a child?" "He's still not here," Wensley's wife informed us, when we called upon her on our return to the capital. She regarded us with wide-eyed fear and hope, the latter of which I hoped we could justify by discovering his whereabouts and restoring him to his family.

"He'd surely be returned nightly, if he was still around," Montgomery told us, as he escorted us upstairs to our rooms. "We're all still having to have our secret meetings in the daytime. Once the sun sets, bang! It's cutting something fierce into my trade. But on the other hand, my lunch business is going very well," he added, talking loudly to the air.

"Are you being spied upon?" I inquired.

"Never be too careful," the innkeeper replied. "The Pervects seem to be here, there and everywhere these days."