Myth 18 - MythChief by Asprin, Robert (good non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

“There go the souvenir shot glasses,” I observed, watch-​ing them tinkle to the pavement.

The littering had alarmed the residents of Sirecoose, but when a policeman came by to demand it stop, I invited him to go upstairs and reason with the army of Titans on the premises. At die mention of Titans he retreated, never to return.

Marmel had a hard time with the wait, but the rest of us allowed ourselves cautious enjoyment. Marmilda was a terrific hostess. She kept beverages coming, and at meal-​times brought us food she had cooked herself, then care-​fully translated according to our dimension of origin. She served me a marvelous fish-​and-​potato pie, just like my mother used to make from troutpikes I caught in the brook on my father's farm.

“I gotta buy me one of dose wolidgins,” Guido said, patting his stomach with satisfaction. “When I remember all the places I been where the food ain't really been to my taste, I could just run it in one end of dese and get a steak dinner out the other end.”

“We'd make you a very special price,” Marmel said, rubbing his hands together. “I mean, what with the adver-​tising value of being able to say the Great Skeeve uses our product. And his friends,” he added nervously, as Guido shot him a dirty look. I didn't miss it.

“Good,” Chumley said, carefully extracting a long or-​ange tentacle from between two molars and placing it care-​fully in his dish. “Food good.” He grinned at the two Imps, who backed up a pace. I thought by this time they would be used to him, but a Troll of his size can be daunting.

“Get them up here!” a voice roared from above. “I think I see a break in the case,” I said, rising to my feet.

The Titans thundered down the stairs, single file and made for us. Two of them grabbed me by the shoulders, but I was ready for them.

“Ahhh!” They jumped backward. I grinned. That magikal shocker I had bought in the gag shop worked ev-​ery time.

“Never lay hands upon the Great Skeeve,” I informed them haughtily. Guido and Chumley shook off their grasp, and the three of us made our way upstairs toward the bel-​lowing Narwickius.

“What's the holdup?” Narwickius shouted. He came rushing out of the small bedroom, nearly barreling into me. “Where is the Hoho Jug?”

“I told you, we have no knowledge of its whereabouts,” I said calmly. “The owner passed away without informing his children. I have not seen it, nor have my colleagues. I gave you my word on that.”

“Aaggh!” Narwickius said, clutching at his hair. He had clearly been tearing out handfuls of it in frustration. I could see silver strands liberally scattered over the waist-​high mounds of junk that literally filled the room.

The Vipe wizardess had been at work: gone were the Triple-​D maps and the souvenir rock collection from Bezoar. The furniture had largely been reduced to boards and rags. As I watched, she pointed her poison green wand at a heap of brightly colored teddy bears. They vanished with a small explosion.

Boom!

“I found another hiding place, great master!” one of the Titans announced, holding up a small, cut-​glass box. I sensed the magik in it. I'd seen its like before. 'No, wait!" I shouted.

Too late. The big, blue oaf flipped open the lid, and hundreds of spring-​loaded snakes leaped into the air. “Aargh!” Narwickius bellowed, batting at them. He lunged for me and grabbed me by the throat. “Gack!” I choked, as I hung in the air. “Where ... is ... it?” he demanded, shaking me at ev-​ery syllable.

Guido and Chumley were at my side in a moment, wres-​tling the Titan back. He dropped me. “I don't know,” I gasped out, massaging life back into my neck. "He hid it here somewhere. That's what I

sur-​mise."

“I can't stand it!” the Titan exclaimed. He yanked open what seemed like false drawers in the dismantled head-​board, releasing streams of silk scarves, commemorative whisky bottles (full) and rare birds' eggs (empty), leaving us chest high in clutter. “Get rid of this trash!”

“ Yessss, massster,” the Vipe wizardess said. She pointed the wand.

Boom! Boom! Boom! I staggered as the mass of junk collectibles vanished. Chumley swooped to keep me up-​right with one massive paw. Narwickius kept pulling down hidden trapdoors, flicking open hatches secreted behind decorative wall plaques, and releasing false bricks in the fireplace. Every one of them catapulted a ton of junk out onto the floor.

“Find it for me,” the Titan growled. “Then I will leave, maybe even with the rest of you alive!”

“That wasn't our bargain,” I said, calmly. “You just have to keep looking. If you kill me, it will let loose more magik than you have ever had to deal with in your life. It will follow you no matter what dimension you go to. I will haunt you when you are asleep. I will whisper ugly se-​crets about you to your girlfriends. I'll tell everyone at the poker table that you have a ten-​high nothing in your hand . ..”

“You're bluffing,” Narwickius said, though he didn't look at all certain. “Try me,” I said, putting up my chin. “I haven't died since . . . gee, last Wednesday, wasn't it, Guido?” “Thursday, Boss,” the enforcer said, with a glint in his eyes.

The bluff worked. Narwickius spun away. He took out his frustration with me on the room.