The king planted an indignant hand on his overfed chest.
"Do I not have the right to go into business, to support myself and my dependants, now that that harridan has taken over my ancient bailiwick? May I not open a store?"
"Yeah, but no one ever said you were gonna open fourteen of 'em," Guido said, in frustration.
"Five more opening next month," one of the courtiers standing by the throne remarked.
"Lord Dalhailey," Petherwick said, by way of cursory introduction. "My Minister of Marketing, just newly returned from a buying trip. I believe you two have not met before?" The Klahd dipped his head slightly, noblesse oblige. Guido tipped him a casual salute with two fingers off the brim of his fedora hat.
"Pleased to meetcha. Look, there's gonna be some renegotiatin' come the expiration of this current contract," he said, turning back to the king. "I just want to warn you what is in the Don's mind."
"There will be no renegotiation if this is not solved, because I will refuse to renew your service contract if you don't help me," Petherwick said, majestically. "We have so far successfully explained to shocked shoppers that the dead or dismembered bodies they have come upon unawares as being part of Slay Days, a period of deep discounts symbolized by models of fierce beasts being dispatched by knights and wizards." He gestured to a pair of displays that flanked his throne room. Cardboard cutouts of reptiles snarled at bay as Klahds in silver mail pierced them with swords or spears.
"I thought you said that these were armored knights that they were finding," Nunzio said.
Petherwick shrugged. "The dragon doesn't always lose, my friend. But my customers have been most understanding, and we have responded with generosity if they do not overreact. If they find a dead body in the aisle, they are entitled to a twenty percent discount off one item that day."
"Thirty percent, if the item comes from that aisle," Lord Dalhailey added. "We call it our 'Blue Blood Special.' I added that clause myself. As a service to the consumer, of course. We don't want them thinking that we are bloodthirsty vultures interested only in the bottom line."
"Even if you are bloodthirsty vultures interested in the bottom line," Guido said.
Dalhailey looked as indignant as Petherwick had. "Sir, I resent your implication! We have mouths to feed, thousands of them. Almost a third of the population of Shoalmirk followed his majesty into exile." Here he bowed toward Petherwick, who waved a hand in acknowledgment. "You have no idea how difficult it has been to keep them convinced that this move to Deva is in their best interests."
"But the chief concern is the depletion of the treasury. This beast is managing not only to attack my people, but to rob us of our legitimate proceeds," Petherwick said, dragging the enforcers' minds back to what I believe was his main point all along. "We have been holding a one-week special on luxury dry goods that has proved surprisingly profitable. The proceeds from all the stores are brought in and amassed here in our flagship location. I do not wish to lose any of the gold we have earned from those sales. Do you think that two of you and this ... this lizard can succeed before we are robbed again?"
"That would be our intention," Guido said, carefully keeping his tone level.
I felt it incumbent upon me to make a comment at this stage.
"Gleep!"
Everyone turned to look at me. King Petherwick sneered.
"Not too impressive, is he? I thought your employer would send the wizard he's got working for him. Sneeze, I think he said the name is?"
"Skeeve," Nunzio said, restraining Guido with a palm to the chest. "He's on vacation. This is his dragon."
"Hardly a substitute." Petherwick waved an imperious hand. "Well, get on with it. The sooner you find what happened to my gold, the sooner we can talk about the next contract."
"I knew it," Guido exploded the moment we were out of earshot of the retail monarch. "I knew this mook would be trouble. When we was signin' up prospects, once I heard he was from Klah and checked him out a lit-tie with Big Julie, I said skip this place. But no, the Don says he's gotta have a hundred percent subscription in the area. This guy calls us in for all kinds of petty stuff that are none of our Business, and I sez this with a capital B, as you can tell."
"Are you questioning our boss?" Nunzio asked, with a lifted eyebrow that was the sole skepticism he showed his much larger cousin.
"Not officially, no," Guido sighed. "The Don tells us to do somethin' and we do it. I just don't think this penny-ante loser is worth our time."
"The Don says he is, so he is. Our allegiance is to our boss, not to King Petherwick. I agree he's not much of a king, though he's turnin' into some kind of hot-shot retailer."
"Still, there are elements of rank deception involved here. How many times we been called out to one or another of his establishments for what has turned out to be one kind of false alarm or another, just to prove that he has the Don Bruce Protection Plan workin' overtime for him? I have lost what parts of my girlish laughter I still retained in trottin' over to here or one of the other many stores. It has caused us to bring in other associate members of the Mob to look after those other places, and with no additional recompense to absorb that expense. And you heard his marketing guy. Five more to come! The guy is a filch."
Nunzio shook his head. "But here I am worried about the loss of life. Somethin' that can take that big a bite out of a solid stone pillar is a danger to the public. We gotta take it out"
"I agree, too," I exclaimed, but as usual, my comment came out "Gleep!"
Guido reached over and roughly touseled my ears. "You said it, fella," he told me with a grin.
As I continued to sniff around the great hall of merchandise I caught a scent that was unfamiliar to me—unfamiliar and dangerous. It caused a frisson to race down the scales along my back. We dragons are not easily frightened. Nor was I now, not until I had the facts of the matter in sum before me. It appeared, therefore, that my sensation of fearfulness was caused by the scent itself. I judged that it contained a pheromone that, unlike the mating chemicals that caused attraction, provoked a feeling of fear and dread. I found I was curious, but I would proceed with caution. I dropped lower until my belly was virtually sweeping the spotless black-and-white tiles of the floor.
The two Mob enforcers noticed the change in my stance, and followed my lead in applying caution. Both of them drew from inside their coats the miniature crossbows that they carried. Deveel shoppers plying the aisles for soap flakes might have been taken aback had they encountered the two Klahds on the street, but within King-Mart, where marketing was an element of the shopping experience, such behavior was accepted as playacting. That would explain why the presence of bodies had aroused neither fear nor a visit from the Merchants' Association.
Guido had been correct in his assessment of the source of the former king's wealth. The huge hall, seemingly a tent on the outside, was built of wood. I smelled enchantment in its seams; that would serve to keep out intruders. Yet, according to accounts, something had penetrated the interior and had managed to conceal itself while committing several sallies against pelf and personnel alike.
Hair wash, board games, garden implements, hand-bags ... there seemed no end to the types of goods that the former Shoalmirkers could produce. A sheaf of rakes with wooden handles leaned drunkenly in a tall crate that was studded with small boxes containing paper envelopes of flower seeds. Sacks of food lay beside shelves of toys; racks of garments ranged back out of sight in the right-hand third of the store. I thought the colors were vulgar, but as I had noted with regard to my pet, there is no accounting for taste.