Class Dis-Mythed

Chapter Ten

A vein popped out on Bee's forehead as he strained to concentrate.

"Lift the feather," I ordered. "Levitation is not that hard. If I could learn to do it, anyone can."

The next day I had decided to do something about the wide gap in expertise between the students. Melvine and the Pervects had had basic training before they finished cutting their teeth—well, before Melvine had, anyhow. I believed that the Pervects were born with all their teeth. Bee's instruction had come from his village hedge-wizard and whatever the Possiltum Army's library of scrolls had stashed in between nudie pinups and manuals on how to strip down and repair crossbows, plus what he'd picked up from Massha. I could tell, that except for his handful of homegrown spells, all his progress in magik could be attributed to the latter.

"Good try," Bunny said encouragingly. She sat polishing her nails on a down-stuffed cushion beneath a pavilion, and offering the occasional compliment to my apprentices. Gleep and Buttercup chased one another around the inn, offering a noisy distraction that I warned them all to ignore.

"Huh," Melvine grunted. He hovered in the trees, picking leaves off and tearing them to pieces without touching them. "What good is trying? Magik is about succeeding."

I glared at him. "Don't show off, Melvine. Couldn't you try to help?"

"Fine," he said. "Look, Klahd, just lift the feather. There's enough magik floating around here to raise the Titanic. Use some of it."

"But I don't know when I'm putting enough magik into it," Bee said.

"All right, let's add a wrinkle. We'll give you resistance to work against. It'll be good practical experience for both of you."

"It's not practical experience," Jinetta insisted. "These are just exercises. We used to do them all the time."

"Everything's practical. Bee, you push up on the feather. Jinetta, you push down."

"There's nothing to that," Jinetta said.

"Aha," I said, "but here's the catch: you can't push any harder than he does. He'll levitate it up to here," I held out a hand, "then you top it with your magik. Don't let him push it any farther. You can't let it go lower than the original level. If he lets it drop, that's his problem, but you can't push it down. See how much control you have."

Jinetta tittered. "That ought to be easy!"

But it wasn't, as I had reason to know. With endless power flowing into them, the girls were no more subtle than Melvine. They channeled whatever was in them. What they needed to learn was how to tighten the valve. The first time Jinetta pushed, the feather ended up embedded in a flagstone.

"Oops," she said.

"See what I mean?" I said. "Freezia, Pologne, I have an exercise for the two of you to work on while Jinetta helps Bee. I want you to work on storing up energy then releasing it—slowly!— until you get used to how much you can hold normally."

Pologne clicked her tongue.

"Why, when this place is full of lines of force? This is like Grand Perv Station!"

I eyed her sternly. "Assume that at any moment they could disappear, and then what?"

"Then Bee here wouldn't be able to lift his feather. Which he can't anyhow!"

"Hold on, someone's coming," Freezia announced. We all paused to listen. I couldn't hear anything, which wasn't surprising. Pervect hearing was a dozen times keener than Klahdish.

"How far away are they?"

Pologne consulted a gold pendulum. "About a mile," she said. "You Klahds make more noise than a dragon in heat."

"Gleep!" protested my pet. Buttercup added a nicker in defense of his friend.

"Sorry," the Pervect said, holding out her hand to Gleep. "You would almost think that they could understand me."

I was unwilling to reveal Gleep's secret to anyone who hadn't saved my life at least ten times. "Well, at least he knows the word 'dragon.' Drop what you're doing, people. Put on a Klahdish disguise. Something believable," I said, halting Freezia, who had promptly transformed herself into a cow.

"Ugh!" Freezia exclaimed. "You soft-skinned are uglier than ten miles of bad road. At least that creature has an attractive pattern!"

"Fashion later," I said. "Security now."

Tolk came galloping back along the road. "A Klahd is coming this way!" he panted.

A mile might have been a long way for a Klahd to cover, but I wanted plenty of time to finish my arguments with my class before whoever was racing towards us emerged from the bushes. Tolk was having trouble focusing his disguise spell, so I transformed him into a large dog—no stretch of the imagination there—and Gleep into a goat. My pet caught a glimpse of himself in the trough and gave me a look of reproach. I shrugged. If we had been in the house I might have gotten away with making him a dog, too, but he had a tendency to forget what he was doing and eat anything that appealed to him. I could get away with explaining a goat eating a cartwheel or gnawing on an anvil. Buttercup's horn was easily erased, leaving him a robustly handsome horse, not an unusual beast to find on a Klahdish homestead.

In an instant, Bunny's red-headed beauty was swallowed up by the semblance of a toothless crone sheltered from the sun by a tattered gray cloth strung on a clothesline. The Pervects had assumed new disguises, having been coached by me and Bunny as to what represented beauty in our dimension. They appeared as three dainty lasses in the dress style worn by prosperous merchants—still in pastel shades, of course. Bee assumed Guido's hulking form. At first I was going to tell him to change back, then I realized he was thinking more clearly than I was. We had no idea whether the approaching being was hostile or not.

To diguise myself, I assumed my disgusting old man image, which was usually enough to remind casual visitors they needed to be elsewhere.

A Klahd came panting into the yard. My illusion made his red face go somewhat pale, but whatever was troubling him was enough to make him risk catching whatever disease or vermin I might be carrying. He fell almost at my feet.

"The Great Skeeve," he gasped. "Where is the Great Skeeve?"

"Who wishes to see my master?" I asked, in a creaky voice.

"He is summoned by Flink, the headman of Humulus," the man said after fetching several deep breaths. Bee came over to help the man to his feet. Tolk trotted over, took the man's wrist in his mouth shortly, then dropped it, giving me a nod. The man's pulse must have been all right. The other apprentices clustered around to listen. "I have been running for two days! There is a terrible monster destroying our village! It's attacking people, terrifying the livestock! The Great Skeeve must help us!"

He looked so distressed I felt sorry for him. Before I could open my mouth to offer my help, Bunny was beside me.

"How terrible?" she asked. "Is it really a monster, or are you exaggerating? What's your name, honey?"

"Norb," the man replied. "Time is of the essence, crone. I have to see the Great Skeeve!"

"In a moment," Bunny said silkily. "What is the threat, exactly? Are we talking about chewing furniture or tearing down buildings? The Great Skeeve doesn't deal with smalltime vermin, you know."

Norb regarded her with distaste. "Woman, we are talking about burning buildings! It has a tail with a great spike! It roars fearsomely! The monster spits lightning bolts! Well, it doesn't spit them, exactly. It sort of sh—, er, well, it emits lightning!"

She and I exchanged a glance. "Well?" she demanded.

"Over to you," I said resignedly.

Bunny took Norb's arm and led him toward her pavilion. "Tell me, good sir, what kind of town is Humulus? Was it a thriving village before the monster invaded?"

Bee whispered to me. "What is she doing?"

"Business," I said shortly. "She's negotiating a fee for my services."

"She's what?" Bee demanded. He waved his arms, making him look even more like a scarecrow caught in a windstorm. "How come we aren't heading off to Humulus right now? Why aren't you dealing with the monster first? Aren't people more important than money?"

"Yes," Tolk asked, tilting his shaggy head. "What's going on? Why the delay?"

I looked around uneasily at my class. "This is not about money per se. This part has always been tough for me, too. This is another lesson that my mentors have been trying to hammer into my head for years. You all are going to have to learn that your time and trouble are worth something. Quite a lot, in fact when you're talking about magikal ability. Lots of people will take advantage of you if you don't set a value on your services. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. 'The Great Skeeve' has a big reputation in these parts. I used to be the court magician in Possiltum, so my magik commands high fees, unless I do the work first. Long experience has taught me that it's almost impossible to get paid once you've already solved the problem. There is nothing as parsimonious as people who feel safe. If you're going to do this as a business, you've got to learn perspective. Think ahead, and remember you have to eat, too. Otherwise you end up doing everything for free, and people will waste your time because they don't have a high value that they associate with your services. The fact is, I'm not as good at negotiating as Bunny is, and I probably never will be. That's why she stopped me. I can't just offer my help for free."

The Pervects were nodding, but Bee looked mortified.

"Sir, permission to disagree, sir! I'll help anyone who ever needs me, whether I can ever do the big stuff or not! Sir!"

I shook my head. He'd learn the hard way, just as I had.

"It's your talent, Bee. I can't stop you doing what you want to do. But experience helps you prioritize. Money's one way of figuring out how important a matter is to someone else."

"When I'm a wizard I'll help everyone I can," Bee insisted. I sighed. Bee and I couldn't be more than a couple of years apart— in fact, I was younger than he was—but I suddenly felt old.

Melvine rolled his eyes. "I intend to make all the money I can."

I was upset with him, too. Money wasn't everything. It was nice to have—I wouldn't lie about that—but it would have surprised the young Skeeve who had started out life as an inept thief and even more inept magik-user that the most important thing in the world was one's friends and loved ones. He didn't seem to have compassion for anyone, not even himself. I lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I hope, Melvine, that you'll figure out one day that following that kind of philosophy too far at the other end of the spectrum will backfire on you, too. Let's look at it from the practical standpoint: if you're too greedy, you're going to miss out on jobs because clients will be afraid that you're more interested in the profit margin than in helping them."

"Huh," the Cupy said. I could tell I hadn't impressed him, but Bee looked a little more forgiving.

Bunny returned with the villager in tow.

"We've come to a suitable arrangement, lackey," she said. "It is time for you to summon the Great Skeeve!"

Now was the time for a fantastic effect, all the better for Norb to report back to his headman. I'd picked up a little showmanship from Aahz and Massha over the years, and it worked really well in cases like this.

"Stand back!" I exclaimed, pushing back my sleeves. The fanfare of a brass band blared around us, making everyone but Bunny jump. The villager was wide-eyed with awe. I shook my hands over my head. "Wugga wugga wugga! Balloo balloo balloo! I call upon the master of magik, the big kahuna himself, commander of demons, conjuror deluxe, king of wizards and wizard to kings—bring us the Great Skeeve!" I dropped to my knees amid a forest of brilliant searchlight beams.

The 'disgusting old man' disappeared in a froth of multicolored foam that bubbled up out of the earth. Angels blowing on trumpets swooped down from the heavens and circled overhead. Cherubs followed, throwing bright blue glitter. I created a final illusion, that of cloud-topped lightning descending from the sky with my alter ego, the fearsome old magician, standing upon it with his arms crossed. As "I" reached the ground, Norb fell at my feet again, this time from awe.

"Could have used a few more fireworks," Pologne said critically from her vantage point on the sidelines.

"I think it was kinda over the top," Melvine added.

With one impressive forefinger, I signalled for my visitor to rise.

He finally recovered enough to speak. "Why—why didn't your manservant just go into the house to fetch you?" he asked.

All right, maybe I hadn't impressed him as much as I had thought.

I lowered my eyebrows at him. "I was in a distant plane of existence," I boomed, "not occupying a miserable hovel like that. Why have I been disturbed from my studies?"

Norb gestured uneasily in the direction of Bunny's pavilion. "Well, you see, I just finished telling that old crone—"

I held up a hand. "Never mind! Your mind is an open book to me! The Great Skeeve knows all! I will help your town.

Assistants!" I clapped my hands. "Make ready to depart! And," I called as an afterthought, "pack lightly!"

Norb guided us to the main northern road, and set as rapid a pace as he could. Since my new client couldn't give me or my 'apprentices' enough details to identify his 'monster,' I brought Gleep and Buttercup along as extra muscle. My pet dragon was as thrilled as Tolk was to go 'walkies' in the pleasant May weather, and spent many happy hours racing into the bushes beside the road, chasing the local wildlife and finding snacks. Gleep's taste in food was almost as dire as that of the Pervects, so I was happier when I could hear him but not see him slurping and chewing. Norb also seemed grateful that my very smelly 'goat' preferred to travel at a distance from him. He was very uneasy about my entourage. Bunny rode sidesaddle daintily on Buttercup's back. The war unicorn had never really gotten used to carrying civilians, but he adored Bunny. He blew out between his lips as Gleep disappeared again. I could tell he longed to romp with his friend, but his training held good and he remained on the road. I patted him on the nose.

"Are you sure you need all of these people, great wizard?" Norb kept asking me.

"They are my students and my servants," I intoned. "They accompany me to learn at my feet and to do those menial tasks such as preparing food."

Norb looked skeptical. "Well, I thought you could do that all by magik."

"Such tasks are beneath his attention," Bunny put in hastily.

Behind us, the Pervects burst into giggles over some private joke I couldn't overhear. Now clad in the illusion of fine travel gowns, they weren't at all pleased with having to spend days disguised as Klahds. When we stopped for food, which because of their prodigious appetites was often, I had to pretend I was conjuring elementals or summoning demons to aid me and protect us on our path to explain away why we had to brew cauldrons of 'protective potion.' We really didn't have anything to worry about. First, this was the main north-south trade route for this region, and was well patrolled by guardsmen in the service of the local ruler. Second, we were carrying few valuables to speak of. Third, those of us who weren't heavily armed packed a substantial magikal wallop. Fourth, and most importantly, anyone who got within ten yards of the Pervects' food was not going to cross the remaining distance, even if we had a string of naked dancing girls carrying baskets of diamonds. After one curious sniff, Norb put as much distance between himself and their cooking pot as he felt was safe. He kept pressing us to hurry. I calculated that it would take about two days to cover the distance on foot that he had run, but he had been traveling unencumbered and we, to put it briefly, were not.

In spite of my instructions, Bee had emerged from the inn with his whole field pack on. I had to admit that it didn't look oversized worn over the disguise of Guido's hulking build, but I could tell it was still Bee under there. Since he was more of a company clerk than a commando type, the weight was beginning to wear on him, though I think he would rather have undergone torture than admit it. He did manage to produce from its depths anything that anyone might even remotely need. I admired his preparedness, but it might have done the others some good if they had to improvise even once to make do. I couldn't criticize him again; he was trying so hard to live up to Massha's recommendation and my reputation. I did not feel worthy of such adulation.

Tolk carried a new cloth bag to replace the paper sack stolen by the Sear natives. A present from Bunny, it had once held half a bushel of garlic. Tolk loved it, and trotted along taking loving snorts from the stinking burlap. Melvine, resplendent in what Aahz would have called a 'Little Lord Fauntleroy' suit, swaggered onward hauling his belongings in a huge leather satchel that floated behind him like a balloon. Bunny, who ought to have known better, also claimed she was traveling light. For her, I suppose she was: two huge suitcases were slung over Buttercup's back like panniers. All she carried on her own person seemed to be a ragged sack. My illusion overlay what was an incredibly expensive designer silk bag Aahz and I had given her for her last birthday. Inside it was Bytina, her palm-sized Perfectly Darling Assistant, cosmetics, gum, a small amount of gold for our travel expenses, and the most powerful pocket calculator on Klah. Not that she needed it. What Bunny lacked in magikal ability was more than made up for by her facility with numbers. When she wasn't chatting with one or another of the apprentices, she was catching up via Bytina with one or another of her many correspondents in other dimensions.

I strode on in thoughtful silence, occasionally lowering my eyebrows as if deep in thought. In truth, I was. My conscience was barking at me, telling me I shouldn't be putting my innocent apprentices into harm's way. On the other hand, if I left them behind and the task took too long, I would feel I was cheating them out of several days' instruction. On the other hand, observing me in action wouldn't hurt, and they might even be able to help me. On yet another hand, I wondered if having them help might make the job harder than it ought to be. I decided that was enough hands. What would happen would happen, and I could only try to prepare my students to be flexible.

Norb accepted all of the strangeness of my entourage as befitting that of a notorious wizard. The one thing he couldn't tolerate was how slow we were moving.

"Hurry up!" he begged, not for the first time that day. "The road's good and the weather is fine. You could put a move on, wizard! Er, with respect, of course."

"If you're so impatient," Bunny said, also not for the first time that day, "why don't you trot ahead and see if there's a decent inn we can put up at for the night? We'll move much faster tomorrow if we get a good night's sleep."

"Old cro—-madam, your witches' brew got us pitched out of the last one. I had to pay a substantial amount above and beyond the inn's fee not to have the tavernkeeper summon the local guards. Even the drunks were afraid of your potion's stench!"

"Actually, it was our—goat that made the smell," Bunny pointed out. Gleep seemed to have taken a fancy to Freezia's cooking. He had begun licking out their pot. Pervish cooking passing through a dragon's digestive system had unfortunate results, to say the least. Norb picked up on that with alacrity.

"Since you admit that it was your creature's fault that I was forced to waste the headman's money, then perhaps you shoulder the burden for tonight's lodging."

Bunny looked outraged. "You don't expect the Great Skeeve to pay for his own lodging? Not when he's going to save your town?"

Muttering something about "this had better be worth it," Norb trotted ahead into the woods, leaving us alone.

The moment he was gone, the Pervects went into elaborate gyrations and gestures. Their disguise spells dissipated, revealing their scaly green faces and four-inch-long fangs. Small animals and birds fled screaming into the trees.

"Whew!" Jinetta said, admiring herself in a pocket mirror. "My mother warned me if I made ugly faces I would freeze that way someday."

"How do you know it didn't?" Pologne asked cattily.

Jinetta pouted. "You don't have to be mean about it!"

"How are you going to defeat a monster that shoots lightning?" Bee asked when he was sure our guide was out of earshot.

"I don't know yet," I said honestly. From my studies I knew of a number that could have fit the description Norb gave us. Furry, big, lightning. There were giant furred spiders in the dimension of Phobia whose webs were crackling nets of lightning. That didn't sound exactly like the creature Norb was talking about—too many legs. There was a huge blue bunny on Vorpal that spat lightning. I shook my head. I knew too much and too little to help. The Pervects had been searching their information sources for furry lightning-shooting creatures, and had also come up with too many possibilities.

Mostly, I worried that my apprentices could be harmed or killed helping me with this mission. I had no intention of letting them get hurt, but I wanted them to try to rid this town of the menace. It would give them a sense of accomplishment.

Bunny was sympathetic. "I have faith in you."

"Maybe you were right," I moaned. "Maybe I've taken on more than I can handle."

"Don't give up now," Bunny said firmly. "You're just getting good at this."

"Thanks," I said glumly, but I appreciated the gesture.

"Here he comes again," Freezia announced.

"Put your disguises on again," I instructed the students.

Jinetta sighed as she assumed her Klahdish appearance. "I just hate not being me, you know."

"Think of it as a dreary necessity," I said severely. "You have no idea how much trouble we'd get into if they ever saw your normal face."

"The trouble with your Klahds is that you don't appreciate genuine beauty," Pologne said.

"Good news, wizard," Norb said, panting up to us. "I found an inn that hasn't gotten the news from the one we tried to stay in last night!"