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

felt around for anything solid I could stand on. Guido, al-​ready up to his knees, held Tananda in his arms, keeping her up out of the mud. Matfany, out of my reach, was also starting to sink.

“Get us out of here, Tananda,” I said. “I lost my D-​hopper on the hill.” “I'll try. There's some weird interference here.” She clapped her hands together. Nothing happened. She

looked dismayed. “Something is sapping my magik. There's plenty of power here, but I can't get to it.” “It's no use fighting,” said the deep-​voiced ghost. “Your time in the material plane is ended.”

“Hey!” I yelled at the royal spirits. “What about all that we've done for your people! Doesn't that count for any-​thing?”

“No, sir,” the voices said. “We believe you have done enough for Foxe-​Swampburg. Now, this won't hurt a bit. It may feel kind of odd, but after a while you won't even re-​member about it.”

The glimmer dissipated, leaving us alone in the dark.

My weight pressing into the slime was beginning to turn my trouser cuffs inside out. I'd been in mud and quicksand before. It was better to go horizontal, as dis-​gusting as that was, and spread out my weight, than to re-​main vertical and let it drag me under. I flattened out with my arms spread.

“Try and lie on the surface,” I said. “We can try to swim to the edge.”

“Ugh!” Tananda exclaimed, bobbing next to me. “I'll never take mud baths at the spa again.”

“Somethin's got my foot!” Guido said.

“Mine, too,” Matfany said.

“What lives in these swamps?” I asked.

“Crocogators, but what you really have to look out for are the marsh squids. They'll wrap you up like a holiday bundle and eat you a piece at a time.”

“That's what I saw on back there,” Guido said. As soon as he said it, a huge tentacle broke the surface and threw itself over Matfany. “Swim for it, friends,” he said, as it wrapped itself around his shoulders. “I'm doomed.”

'No, you're not,“ Guido said. ”We don't let clients get eaten by invertebrates." He splashed toward the Reynardan. Tananda kicked after him, drawing a dagger out of who knew where in her clothing. I groaned and followed, but I didn't get far. The next tentacle that erupted wound itself around my leg. It dropped back into the mud and started to pull me down with it.

“Tananda, get out of here,” I said, struggling to stay on the surface. “I can't go and leave you!” “You're the only one with enough magik to escape. Beat it! Get help! Hurry up!” The last sound I heard before my ears filled with mud was BAMF!

Myth 18 - MythChief

THIRTY -TWO

“Money isn't everything.” D. TRUMP

( felt pretty miserable after Aahz confronted me in the of-​fice. I could put up with his bombast and his ridicule, but not false accusations. He wasn't playing fair! It really hurt that the others seemed to believe

him more than they did me, I wasn't used to that.

Maybe I really should go back to the inn in Klah when Hermalaya was back on her throne. It was lonely, but I wouldn't have to worry about being lied to by anybody but merchants. I could trust Gleep and Buttercup to be my true friends while I figured out exactly what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Bunny could stay in Deva, or go wherever she wanted to. She was a much more social per-​son than I was. She didn't need to share my exile one more time. I was grateful for all the time she had devoted to keeping me sane.

In the meantime, what Hermalaya needed far out-​stripped my need to lick my wounds. As soon as I could, I started making the rounds again of the people who had turned me down for an interview when the Aahz-​inspired Cake knockoffs started coming out.

I was getting used to doors being slammed in my face, so much so that when Elliora, a Leprechaun financier from Ayer, said yes, I almost walked out anyhow. She dropped a loop of magik around me and hauled me back to her desk She was a plumpish female about half my height with an upturned nose, tilted green eyes, and shining silver hair pulled back in a long braid. Freckles were scattered across her nose. The gold that the Leprechauns were so famous for was evident in her parlor. Bureau knobs, inkwells, even picture frames were made of solid gold.

“Are you talking about Hermalaya of Foxe-​Swampburg, then?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“They're nice people,” she said firmly. “I've done a lot of business with them over the years. I'd love to bear what has been happening to her. Go ahead and let me see her diary. Sit down. Would you like a whisky?”

Ayerish whisky was the best in the dimensions. I ac-​cepted a “wee, small” portion that filled a glass large enough to drown in, and opened up my scroll.

By the end of the tale, Elliora was weeping into her own whisky. I waited until she had dried her tears with a beau-​tifully embroidered handkerchief.

“Well, if there is a thing in this world that I can do for her, you have but to ask mc. Go on, then, ask!”

I launched into my speech about helping her to restore the kingdom to its former prosperity, and how although her people loved her, she had no real means of pulling the place out of debt or advertising to the rest