Myth-Gotten Gains

It was blank. My mind could not recall a single song. I gritted my teeth in frustration. Come on! I chided myself. Me, Aahz, with stage fright?

Somewhere in the darkness, a high voice tittered. A few guffaws joined it. I gritted my teeth. I was going to get my powers back, and I would come back here and knit their fuzzy coats together in a giant afghan.

In the meantime, the show must go on. Finally, a tune came back to me. One that would knock them all out.

"Hail, Perv!" I burst out. "We're green and scaly. We mean business. ..."

Before I knew it, I had launched into the national anthem of Perv. Written about three thousand years ago, it describes how we came to be an independent, united dimension, by defeating our enemies. The first verse is the usual bluster, albeit true, how great Pervects are. The second goes on to list our conquests of other dimensions. Subsequent verses are about maiming and torturing our enemies, all in the name of freedom, going into exquisite detail, including how my ancient ancestors had their way with the captured women, to further our chosen way of life. It had eighteen verses, fifteen of which I hadn't sung since school. Once I could remember the first line of the next stanza, it came rolling out like I was back in Miss Grimnatz's primary school class. I started to relax, belting out the high notes, and rumbling the low ones like threats.

After verse two, the members of the audience in the first few rows, which was as far as I could see with the spotlights in my eyes, looked uneasy. After verse four, some of them started to get up and edge toward the doors. The sixth verse, which features a pretty good description of hot irons and whips, made them run for the doors. Wimps, I thought.

I finished the song without blowing a single line. At the end, I held out my arms for applause. Instead of the expected roar of approbation, it was tentative and faint.

"Hey, there," Buirnie said, when I glared out over the footlights at the unseen audience, "sympathy applause is better than no applause at all, eh?"

The drum beat a rim shot.

"Thank you, thank you," Buirnie said, modestly. "Now, the voting! Everyone hand in their ballots. He peered into the darkness of the audience. "Is anyone out there?"

The Trolls lumbered off the stage. They were back in a moment. One of them brandished a sheet of paper. "Here's duh vote," he said.

"One vote?" Buirnie asked, astonished.

"There's only one guy out there." The Troll pretended to count on his fingers. "Yeah."

"Just one," the second Troll confirmed. "Dat old pink guy. Don't hear so good."

"Well, all right," Buirnie said, faintly. "Who won?"

The Troll pointed at me. "He did."

"I did?" I said, doing a double-take. Then I straightened up. "I mean, I won! Yeah. Well, did anyone doubt it for a minute?"

Tananda zoomed in and gave me a passionate kiss of congratulations. "Never, handsome."

"My hero!" Calypsa declared, running out and hanging on my arm.

"You sounded like an alligator gargling ball bearings," Asti said. "But you did it. Well done. The drinks are on me."

"Never mind that," I said, uncharacteristically putting liquor behind duty. I turned to Buirnie. The golden Flute looked up uneasily at me from his cushion. "All right, I won your cockamamie contest. You got a suitcase you want to use?"

The Flute regarded me with some confusion.

"Er, what for?"

"You're coming with us, aren't you?"

"Well, no. I can't."

"No?" I bellowed. "After I stood up and sang? You bet you're coming."

"You made a bargain, Buirnie," Ersatz said severely.

Buirnie turned to his fellow Hoard members. "You know, I never liked any of you. Bringing a Perv...Perv...Pervert into MY theater!"

I couldn't help myself. "That's Per-VECT!"

I reached out to yank his little ferrules off. The Trolls grabbed me and twisted my arms behind my back.

Buirnie gulped. "Not so fast, not so fast, er, Pervect! I was just jerking your chain. I just wanted to see how badly you wanted my help. You would not believe how many untalented fame-seekers come looking for me, hoping to make a fast buck in the troubadour world. Of course I will help you. I am a member of the Golden Hoard, after all! Our job is to fight for right. I'll join you"

"Good." I relaxed, and the Trolls let me go. "Let's pack you up and get out of here. We've got three more treasures to find before we can get Calypsa's grandfather out of hock."

Buirnie tootled a protest.

"Not so fast! I will join you in six months, when my current tour ends."

"Six months!"

Calypsa sank down beside him.

"But I need you now! My grandfather has only a couple of weeks before Barrik will kill him! I do not know how he survives in the terrible dungeons of the evil Barrik, eating perhaps who knows what awful food, and subjected to frightening tortures!"