The Bazaar was also the site of the former offices of M.Y.T.H., Inc., the operation that had been headed up by my old partner, Skeeve, with me as his advisor. The tent, which was, to quote another dimensional traveler, was substantially bigger on the inside than it was on the outside because of a common trick used in the Bazaar and elsewhere, of setting only the front door, and maybe the anteroom, of a building in a particular dimension, and carving the rest of the space out of a neighboring dimension by means of a spell. Our tent backed onto a dimension called limbo, which even the Deveels were loath to visit. The main race there was vampires, with werewolves and a few other children of the night thrown in for makeweight, or make-wight, if you like. It had explained why our tent had been priced so reasonably even though it was located on a main thoroughfare. Skeeve insisted that the Limboans were as afraid of us as we were of them, but the place gave me the creeps. Still, I used it as my pied-a-terre — you can't argue with the fact that it was already paid for. A few of the gang came and went as business brought them to Deva, but it wasn't like the old days.
Even though most people would hesitate to tangle with a Pervect, especially a notable like myself, I felt very uncomfortable carrying three very valuable pieces of magikal hardware through the Bazaar. The pickpockets and thieves that roamed the lanes could smell gold through ten layers of bespelled safe-satchels, let alone buried in the middle of ancient sacks that we'd lifted from a nearby potato field in Klah.
Ersatz we couldn't hide at all, except to cover his hilt with an old sack. Bumping along on Calypsa's narrow shoulder, he was getting a lot of attention from the shopkeepers we passed. I kept a hand on the D-hopper in my pocket. It was an ancient artifact, and there weren't many around. No way after all this time was I losing my ride.
"I don't see why you have to have a special carrying case," I told Asti sourly. "That kid who had you on his shelf sure didn't have a fancy set up for you, especially not one with jewels and tooled leather."
"I don't expect dancing girls and acolytes, Mr. Aahz," Asti said, smugly, now that she knew she was getting her way.
"It's just Aahz," I said.
"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!"
It was past lunch time, so the crowd that gathered to listen to us haggle wasn't as large as it might be, which suited me just fine. I didn't want anyone reading over Stankel's shoulder. Tananda was used to the custom of bargaining in the Bazaar, but Calypsa was beginning to shy backwards, away from our voices. I couldn't take the time out to let her know this was normal. Suddenly, I saw the gleam of Ersatz's eyes peeking out of the wrapping over her shoulder. Gradually, the Walt
stopped trembling. After a while, she looked as if she was actually enjoying the show. When we finally finished haggling and agreed on a quarter gold piece, she joined in the applause. I thought it had been a pretty good show, myself.
After letting Stankel take measurements of Asti, we left him to work. He wasn't too impressed with the pathetically banged-up cup for which we were buying a fancy box, but had bought the story we were using it to run some kind of elaborate scam. He knew, as any Deveel would from birth, that it was solid gold, but I had chosen Stankel on purpose because he was almost as magik-blind as I was at the moment. He couldn't feel the mystical wallop she and the other two packed.