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

“And that was it?” Bunny asked, as I sat back in my chair with my feet on my desk. “That disgusting squid was the Hoho Jug?”

“Yup,” I said, feeling pretty pleased with myself. Gleep sidled up and put his head in my lap, looking for a scratch behind his ears. I scrubbed his scales with my fingernails. “When both of them called it, it morphed back into a ewer. Incidentally, it does echo back 'ho-​ho' when you holler into it. One question answered, one fee collected. We're in business.”

“What about the others.'” she asked. I didn't have to ask who she meant. “What about them?” “What did they say?” I shrugged. “It was a little awkward, but it all worked out.”

Myth 18 - MythChief

TEN

“Of course, that's in my job description.”

SWEENEY TODD

My new office was off and running. I didn't expect to be inundated by old friends and former employees, the latter a happy subset of the first category, but Bunny and Tananda must have spread the word that I was starting out slowly, and I would ask for help if I needed it. Many people who had worked for or with M.Y.T.H., Inc. stopped by to offer support, but no one was pushing. Exactly. Yet. I had a feel-​ing that the dam would burst at some point, and I had to work out precisely where I was going with my new busi-​ness before I started hiring. I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but I needed to have the right answer for myself, first. In a way, I was my own first and ongoing client, and I had to report that no progress had been made yet on MY question.

Bunny started talking about advertising me on the Crystal Ether Network through her PDA, or Perfectly Darling Assistant, a little red disk of a gadget that she called Bytina. What about rewriting my card, or taking out ads, hiring a flying dragon to write my name in the sky?

“It's too soon,” I insisted. “One success in a row is not an indicator of a viable business.” But I found myself drumming my fingers on my desk, waiting for something to happen.

I was so relieved that the others weren't upset with me that the fact I wasn't doing much business didn't bother me as much as it might have. I had made peace with my friends, and I was happy about that, but it wasn't going to be smooth sailing yet. I still had to figure out how to describe my new profession so it wouldn't lead to so much confusion.

“... But they keep asking me, what do you do with an in-​between skill? A talent no one knows how to harness?”

“What?”

I startled out of my daydream. The minute girl in the blue dress on the guest chair twisted a handkerchief be-​tween her fingers. She gave me a shy smile, which made her small oval face lovely.

“I'm sorry. I know my voice isn't very loud,” the girl said. She was a Pixie, a denizen of Pix. “I mean, my par-​ents think I should just train harder, but I don't want to be a flower fairy. Flowers make me sneeze. Oh, I know there are spells to counteract that, but I don't... I don't like flowers,” she said, with a defiant scowl, as if daring me to contradict her. Her little nose turned pink. “I just could never be as good as my friends. My mother is the foremost rose sculptor in all of Pix. I can't equal her, but she wants me to follow in her footsteps. I just want to make my own way. I just don't know how.”

“So,” I said slowly, feeling as if I was asking myself, “what is it you do?”

She looked happy, as though no one had ever voiced the question before. She fluttered her tiny hands. From be-​tween her fingers, a flash of red appeared. A brilliantly colored bird took shape and took wing. It soared up over my head, then angled off, circling the ceiling of my office.

Gleep's head sprang up from his forepaws, and he bounded after it. “Gleep, no!” I said, jumping up. I lunged for his collar.

Too late. His jaws snapped shut on the bird. He landed, his blue eyes wide. His tongue snaked out, as though tast-​ing the air. I was aghast. I turned to Flinna.

“Gee, I'm sorry about your pet,” I said. “Gleep doesn't usually misbehave like that.”

Flinna smiled at me. “It's all right. It wasn't real.” “Wasn't real?” I realized I was echoing her. “What was it?”

“It's a kind of fairy illusion,” she explained. “I can do hundreds of them, all completely accurate. They feel real, but you can't keep them. Once you touch them, they go pop.”

“Really?” I asked. So that was why Gleep was casting around and looking confused. “Wow. That is a special tal-​ent.”

“But useless,” Flinna said, hanging her head. “I don't know how to do anything but flower magik and illusionary birds. I can't make a living at either one. What can I do withwell, what I can do?”

“Let's see if I can find someplace for you,” I said, rising and extending my hand. “I know a lot of people here in the Bazaar.”

The Geek stroked his chin. The wily Deveel and I had been on opposite sides in several deals. As far as I could tell, he still owed me for some shady dealing that nearly killed some students of mine.4

“I don't know, Skeeve,” he