Myth-Chief

NINETEEN

Hermalaya held out one slender hand to the choconut tycoon. He took it in his big paw, looking dazed and pleased.

"Mister Oatis, it has just been a pleasure?" she said.

"Oh, no, pretty lady, the pleasure was all ours!" he exclaimed. "What a day!"

Nunzio, Chumley, and I had all of her ceremonial gear locked up in their respective cases. Massha stood beside the princess, an honorary lady-in-waiting. We all had the system down to the point where we could get the Cake room cleaned up in under half an hour, including magikal deep cleaning, thanks to a trumpet-shaped gadget Massha had unearthed in a wizard's estate sale in Plupert. Sebellum Oatis's nine children were lined up wide-eyed and quiet, waiting for their chance to say goodbye to the princess.

"I don't know how you did it," Oatis's wife whispered to her, "but they've been good all afternoon! And all with a few little pieces of cake!"

"It's not what Cake is," Hermalaya said, smiling. "It's what Cake means."

"I know. You have triumphed over such adversity thanks to Cake. I read it in your diary. I bought a dozen copies for all my friends!"

"Well, that's just so kind," the princess gushed. "I mean, I didn't want to share my private thoughts all over the dimensions? But Skeeve here told me that a lot of people would find the story moving? I kind of guess they have."

I grinned a little sheepishly. The publication of The Princess's Diary had been a hard sell with Hermalaya, but I had pointed out she had already given copies not only to Massha's friend Bobbie Jo, but also several of the clients who had requested them as mementos after their Cake ceremonies. I suggested that she find a good publisher who would present the princess's own words in her voice, all the better to drum up support for Foxe-Swampburg. She agreed, but only for the sake of her kingdom. It had sold thousands of copies already. Bunny was keeping track of the royalties.

"... I wish I could take lessons from you. And I think my two older daughters are interested, too."

"Maybe later on, when things get settled out?" Hermalaya said, grasping her hand courteously. "I just love children, you know. I'd be happy to help you all on the path."

"I admire you so much, princess."

"Thank you. You're just too complimentary?"

"Uh, here," Oatis said, offering me a box. "Thanks."

The goodbye looked like it was getting protracted, so I grabbed Hermalaya's arm.

"Sorry, but her highness is getting tired."

"I'm sorry, but we have to go?" Hermalaya said, taking my cue. "You are just all so kind."

We hadn't even bamfed out of there before the herd of children started clamoring and running around. I felt sorry for Oatis's wife. But it was another two hundred and fifty gold coins for me—I mean, the treasury. Oatis found Hermalaya charming, but he didn't have any economic hold on Reynardo or Foxe-Swampburg that was of any help. He did, however, have some friends who had.

I had met a lot of royalty during my stint as a Court Magician. One thing that I realized about them was that most of them didn't have access to their countries' wealth. That power lay in the hands of merchants, landowners, and ministers. I'd known a number of tightwads among them— understandable, since the way to stay wealthy was not to spend the fortune they or their ancestors had spent life-times amassing, but I had underestimated the curiosity value of royalty to those very people. Among those willing to listen to The Princess's Diary, more than a few were eager to experience the famous Cake ceremony, as conducted by the exiled Hermalaya herself. Those who enjoyed it passed on word to others.

"Who've we got next?" I asked Massha, who was keeping track of the letters of introduction and callbacks once I'd let them see the diary spell. We had set up a command center in one of my old chambers in Hemlock's castle. As long as only Hermalaya was imposing on Hemlock's hospitality, the queen let us come and go as we pleased. I transported Nunzio and Chumley in daily from the Bazaar. I was staying in the lonely old inn in the woods there in Klah.

"Ooh, this is a hot one," Massha said, holding up a gilt-edged piece of parchment. "Oatis tipped us off to him. Bobono Macullis Lupercalia. Hey, he's right in Reynardo. He's a Swamp Fox. You would think he has seen the Cake ceremony before."

"He might have," Hermalaya said. "I think I've heard the Lupercalia name before?"

Nunzio and Guido had been doing some research for me into kingdom finances. I plunged into the piles of papers.

"Oh, yes," I said, my eyes narrowing greedily on the document. It was a copy of a loan agreement negotiated on behalf of the royal house of Foxe-Swampburg and signed by Matfany and Lupercalia. "This is great. Matfany's been buying building supplies on credit from this guy. He's months behind on payments. Thousands of gold coins! If we can persuade him, he might be just the straw that breaks the camelpaca's back. Let's see when I can get an appointment to visit him."

"Well, you can't go tomorrow. Both of you have got an interview with Boccarella for the Crystal Ether Network in the morning. The Overseer of Mirth in Killinem is expecting Skeeve in the afternoon."

I made a note on a scrap of paper. "No problem. Day after tomorrow or later. If that's all right with you, princess? I don't want you to feel burned-out. I know we're having you meet a lot of people, but I think we're gaining some terrific allies."

I turned to Hermalaya, who sat on the window seat, turning her Cake server over and over in her fingers.

"Are you okay, honey?" Massha asked, floating over to sit in the air by her. Massha preferred to be weightless whenever possible, and her gaudy flying ring provided all the buoyancy she needed. The Swamp Vixen turned a wistful face toward us.

"I just miss my friends, and all my ladies, and the Old Folks," she said with a heartbreaking little sigh.

I knew just how she felt. I had been exiled, too. Bunny wouldn't allow me to stay in my new office more than a few minutes at a time. On my rare visits back to drop off money and gifts meant to replenish the Foxe-Swampburg treasury when Hermalaya was restored to the throne Gleep greeted me with a tongue-sliming as if I had been gone for years. He and Buttercup were lonely hanging around a half-empty office. Nunzio volunteered to stay behind sometimes and play with them.

"Beneficial and educational exercises," he told me. "It helps increase their intelligence."

I knew he'd be surprised if he knew just how intelligent both Gleep and Buttercup really were. Buttercup was still keeping an eye out the back door for assassins. Each time I checked in with him he dropped a wink of his heavy white lashes to tell me that no strangers had yet tried to invade from the extradimensional side of the tent. That information was all the more important now that I knew Aahz was working against my client's best interests. If he managed to stabilize Matfany's position, poor Hermalaya would never get to go home

The best weapons we had were outrage and financial securities. I'd asked the creditors we had met and impressed so far to hold back until we were ready. I figured that public outcry, mixed with a massed call for repayment of capital I knew Matfany didn't have, would force him to resign and allow the princess to return home. I just hoped we could outdraw whatever Aahz was bringing in for the prime minister. No one would tell me how he was doing, or even what he was doing.