"... and he knows them all, don't you dear?" Idnew
said with a smile.
"Really?" I interrupted eagerly. "Would you mind
running over a few? Could I take notes?"
"Before you get carried away, High Roller," Massha
warned, "remember why we came here originally."
"Oh! Right! Thanks, Massha. For a minute there I
... Right!"
It took me a few seconds to rechannel my thoughts.
While Aahz's training has gotten me out of a lot of tight
spots and generally improved my standard of living,
there are some unfortunate side effects.
Once I got my mind back on the right track, I quickly
filled the werewolves in on our current problem. I kept
the details sketchy, both because I was getting tired of
going back and forth over the same beginning, and to
keep from having to elaborate on Luanna's part in caus-
ing our dilemma. Still, the Woof Writers seemed quite
enthralled by the tale, and listened attentively until I was
done.
"Gee, you're really in a spot," Idnew said when I
finally ground to a halt. "If there's anything we can do
to help...."
"We can't," Drahcir told us firmly. "You're behind
on your deadlines, Idnew, and I've got three more ap-
pearances this month... not to mention answering the
mail that's piled up the last two weekends I've been
gone."
"Drahcir...." Idnew said, drawing out his name.
"Don't look at me like that, dear," her husband
argued before she had even started her case, "and don't
cock your head, either. Someone's liable to shove a
gramophone under it. Remember, you're the one who
keeps pointing out that we have to put more time into
our work."
84
Robert Asprin
"I was talking about cutting back on your personal
appearances," Idnew argued. "Besides, this is impor-
tant."
"So's meeting our deadlines. I'm as sympathetic to
their problem as you are, but we can't let the plight of
one small group of humans interfere with our work on
the big picture."
"But you're the one who insists that deadlines aren't
as important as...."
She broke off suddenly and semaphored her ears
toward her husband.
"Wait a minute. Any time you start talking about
'big pictures' and 'grand crusades'... is our bank ac-
count low again?"
Drahcir averted his eyes and shifted his feet uncom-
fortably.
"Well, I was going to tell you, but I was afraid it
might distract you while you were trying to work. ..."
"All right. Let's have it," his wife growled, her
hackles rising slightly. "What is it you've invested our
money in this time?''
I was suddenly very uncomfortable. Our little discus-
sion seemed to be dissolving into a family fight I felt I
had no business being present for. Apparently Massha
felt the same thing.
"Well, if you can't help us, that's that," she said, get-
ting to her feet. "No problem. A favor's not a favor if
you have to be argued into it. C'mon, Hot Stuff. We're
wasting our time and theirs."
Though in part I agreed with her, desperation
prompted me to make one last try.
"Not so fast, Massha. Drahcir is right. Time's
money. Maybe we could work out some kind of a fee to
compensate them for their time in helping us. Then it's
not a favor, it's a business deal. Face it, we really need
MYTH-ING PERSONS 85
their help in this. The odds of us finding this Vic char-
acter on our own are pretty slim."
Aahz would have fainted dead away if he had heard
me admitting how much we needed help before the fee
was set, but that reaction was nothing compared to how
the Woof Writers took my offer.
"What did you say?" Drahcir demanded, rising to all
fours with his ears back.
"I said that maybe you'd help us if we offered to pay
you," I repeated, backing away slightly. "I didn't mean
to insult you...."
"You can't insult Drahcir with money," his wife
snapped. "He meant what did you say about Vic?"
"Didn't I mention him before?" I frowned. "He's
the vampire that Aahz is supposed to have...."
There was a sudden loud flapping sound in the rafters
above our heads, like someone noisily shaking a news-
paper to scare a cat off a table. It worked . .. not on the
cat (I don't think the werewolves owned one) but on
Massha and me. My apprentice hit the floor, covering
her head with her hands, while I, more used to sudden
danger and being more svelte and agile, dove beneath
the coffee table.
By the time we recovered from our panicky ... excuse
me, our shrewd defensive maneuvers, there was nothing
to see except the vague shape of someone with huge
wings disappearing out the front door.
"This one's all yours, dear," Drahcir said firmly, his
posture erect and unmoved despite the sudden activity.
"Come on, honey," his wife pleaded. "You're so
much better at explaining things. You're supposed to
help me out when it comes to talking to people."
"It's a skill I polished at those personal appearances
you're so critical of," he retorted stiffly.
"Would somebody tell me what's going on?" I said
86 Robert Asprin MYTH-ING PERSONS 87
in tones much louder than I usually use when I'm a
guest in someone's home.
Before I could get an answer, the door burst open
again utterly destroying what little was left of my nerv-
ous system.
"Hey, Boss! Did you s—se—Wha—wa...."
"Outside, Guido!" I ordered, glad to have someone I
could shout at without feeling guilty. "Blow your nose
... and I'm fine, thanks! Nice of you to ask!"
By the time my bodyguard had staggered back out-
side, his face half buried in a handkerchief, I had man-
aged to regain most of my composure.
"Sorry for the interruption," I said as nonchalantly
as I could, "but my colleague does raise an interesting !
question .What was that?''
"Scary?" Massha suggested.
Apparently she had recovered her composure a little
better than I had. I closed my eyes and reflected again
on the relative value of cheeky apprentices.
"That," Drahcir said loftily, barely in time to keep
me from my assistant's throat, "was Vic... one of my
wife's weird artist friends who dropped in unannounced
for a prolonged stay and, unless I miss my guess, the
criminal you're looking for who framed your partner."
"He wasn't really a friend of mine," Idnew put in in
a small voice. "Just a friend of a friend, really. Weird
artist types tend to stick together and pass around the
locations of crash spaces. He was just another charity
case down on his luck who...."
"... who is currently winging his way back to his ac-
complice with the news that we're on their trail," I
finished with a grimace.
"Isn't that 'accomplices' as in plural?" Massha asked
softly.
I ignored her.
"Oh, Drahcir," Idnew said, "now we have to help
them. It's the only way we can make up for having pro-
vided a hideout for the very person they were trying to