Myth-Gotten Gains

"As you wish. I liked Imgam. In every way that counted, that simple setting was a shrine. Imgam gave me the very best he had. He set me on a plinth of wood he cut with his own hands. He polished me with the finest cloth in the house, a piece of silk his mother got as a wedding present. It was cheap by comparison with most of the polishing cloths I've had over the years, but there was none better to be had. He handled me with love and the deepest respect." She sighed. "Outside of the Temple of Shamus, I have never had such worship. I really enjoyed it. You had better have removed me from his care for a very important reason indeed, and not just to restore powers to a Pervert."

Calypsa opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to shush her. "Not here," I said. "We'll get you your case, then go to someplace where it's less likely we'll Debugged."

"My goodness, what an interesting place," Kelsa said, from Tananda's shoulder bag. She had insisted that we not use the silencing cloth, and she had babbled nonstop since we bamfed in. "Did that Deveel really just take that Imper for the last silver piece he had? And all because he was palming the bean that should have been under at least one of those shells?"

Her shrill voice was plenty audible enough so that the Imp in question heard it. He glared at the Deveel, who glared in our

direction. The Imp demanded a refund. The Deveel, no surprise, refused. That started an argument with the huckster that drew an audience from the surrounding booths. I put a hand into Calypsa's back and hustled her out of the way of the brawl that was going to start in, oh, ten seconds.

Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.

"You cheated me, you scarlet shyster! Give me back my money, or I'll blow your head off!"

Oh, well, a little ahead of schedule.

The Deveel behind the leatherwork counter listened as Calypsa recited the details of the case Asti wanted. We all thought it would be better if none of the Golden Hoard said anything. The last thing I needed was a rumor going around that they were in the dimension. It would start a gold rush the likes of which hadn't been seen in a century.

"...And cashmere lining. Purple," Calypsa said. "Good enough to last for a hundred years."

"Uh-huh," said Stankel, noting down the information on a scrap of leftover parchment. "Not the usual stuff I do for you, pretty girl," he said, patting Tanda on the bottom. She smiled at him with such concentrated sweetness that he moved his hand back in alarm. I grinned.

"Just give me the estimate," I said.

"Well, it's custom work," he began, ticking off the items on the list. "Rush job, you said. Special dyes. It'll have to be clegborn beetle wing dye for the lining—it's the best. Doesn't run, won't fade. Tooling on the leather representing water flowing up out of a fountain, waves crashing on the shore, that kind of thing. If you don't mind magikal carving, I can do anything you want. Saves time. The name on the top is Asti, you said?"

He glanced up at me with a gleam in his eye. I was afraid that he'd catch on. Deveels didn't get to be the most feared traders in a hundred dimensions by missing implications, and they never forgot any detail that might be worth a copper to them.

"Yeah." I leaned close. "I wouldn't want it to get around. We're running an...operation. You understand. Set a fraud to catch a fraud, you know. Not like we've got the real Asti."

"I see," Stankel said, licking the end of his pencil and scrawling a final note. "No, I get it. Where would you get a Hoard treasure, Aahz?" He laughed.

I resented his implication, but I didn't want to start a fight. Not yet, anyhow.

"How much?" I asked.

"Oh, well, seeing as how you're an old friend, and Tanda here's a regular customer.. .half a gold piece."

"How much?" I asked.

"Half a gold piece. And I'm taking bread out of my children's mouths to give you a price that low."

"Your children are in their sixties," I pointed out. "If you're still feeding them, you're as crummy a parent as you are a businessman. This might be good work, but I could get Steger to whip out the same for a tenth."

"A tenth! You're out of your mind!"

I smiled. Now things were beginning to move. "Not so crazy as you are."

"How could you even think of offering me such a pathetic sum for my quality leather goods?" He appealed to passersby. "This stinking Pervert thinks he can ask the craftsman Stankel for custom work for a rotten tenth of a gold piece! Four tenths, or I'll throw you out of this booth on your scaly bottom!"

"That's Pervect," I bellowed, "and I'd like to see you try it! Two tenths!"