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From Gus's description, I had known that both Guido and his cousin Nunzio were part of the Mob's contingent at the Bazaar. This "chance meeting" was the result of nearly half a day's worth of searching and following rumors.
"What are you doing here?" he asked confidentially. "Shopping for a few little items to wow 'em with back at Possiltum?"
"Just taking a bit of a vacation. That new queen and I don't get along so well. I thought things might ease up if I disappeared for a while."
"Too bad. If you was shoppin', I could line you up with some 'special deals,' if you know what I mean."
"You guys are really moving in, then?" I marveled.
"How is it going? Any problems?"
"Naw," the bodyguard bragged, puffing out his chest. "You was right. These Deveels are like shopkeepers anywhere. Lean on 'em a little and they fall in line."
"Don't tell me you're handling this all by yourself! I mean I know you're good, but..."
"Are you kiddin'? I'm an executive now . . . well, at least a team leader. Both Nunzio and me have a dozen men to order around, courtesy of our 'extensive knowledge of the Bazaar.' Pretty good, huh?"
"You mean you're running the whole operation?"
"That's Shai-ster's job. Me and Nunzio report to him, but it's us gives the orders to the boys."
I looked around expectantly.
"Is your team around? I'd like to meet them."
"Naw. We worked this area a couple days ago. I'm on my way to meet 'em and give out today's a.s.signments. We're going after the area by the livestock pens today."
"How about Nunzio's team?"
"They're about three hours west of here. You know, this is a really big place!"
I put on my most disappointed face.
"Too bad, I would have liked to have met some of the ones who do the real work."
"Tell ya' what," Guido exclaimed, "why don't you drop by Fat's Spaghetti Parlor sometimes? That's where we're all hanging out. If we're not there, they can tell you where we are."
"I'll do that. Well, don't work too hard . . . and be careful. These guys can be meaner than they look."
"Piece of cake," he laughed as he headed off.
I was still waving merrily at his retreating figure as the rest of my "gang" faded out of the crowd around me.
"Did you get all that?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
"Two teams, neither one in this area. Shai-ster's running the show and therefore holding the bag," Tananda recited. "This area is both clear and under protection."
"Fat's Spaghetti Parlor is their headquarters, which is where we can find Shai-ster," Chumly completed. "Anything else?"
"Yeah," Aahz grinned. "Skeeve has a standing invite to drop by, and when he does, they're ready to tell him which team is working what area that day. Nice work."
"Lucky," I admitted with no embarra.s.sment. "Well, shall we start?"
"Right," Aahz nodded. "Just like we planned, Tananda and Chumly are a team. Gus, you're with me. Skeeve and Ma.s.sha, you start here. We all move out in different directions and s.p.a.ce our hits so there's no pattern. Okay?"
"One more thing," I added. "Keep an eye on your disguises. I'm not sure of the exact range I can hold that spell at. If your disguise starts to fade, change direction to parallel mine."
"We meet back at the Yellow Crescent Inn," Gus finished. "And all of you watch your backs. I don't stock that much first aid gear."
"Good thought," I said. "Okay. Enough talk. Let's scatter and start giving the Mob a headache."
The other two teams had melted into the crowd of shoppers before I had even turned to Ma.s.sha.
"Well, anything catch your eye for us to have a go at?"
"You know. you're starting to sound a bit like that troll."
That sounded a bit more abrupt than was Ma.s.sha's normal style. I studied her curiously.
"Something bothering you?"
"Just a little nervous, I guess," she admitted. "Has it occurred to you all this plan has a major flaw? That to implement it potentially means getting the entire Bazaar after us, as well as the Mob?"
"Yes, it has."
"Doesn't it scare you?"
"Yes, it does."
"Well, how do you handle it?"
"By thinking about it as little possible," I said flatly. "Look, apprentice, aside from doing shtick in court for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the ma.s.ses, this profession of ours is pretty dangerous. If we start dwelling on everything that can go wrong in the future, we'll either never move or blunder headlong into the present because our minds aren't on what we're doing right now. I try to be aware of the potential danger of a situation, but I don't worry about trouble until it happens. It's a little shaky, but it's worked so far."
"If you say so," she sighed. "Oh, well, gear me up and let's get started."
With a pa.s.s of my mind, I altered her features. Instead of being a ma.s.sive woman, she was now a ma.s.sive man . . . sort of. I had been experimenting with color lately, so I made her purple with reddish sideburns that ran all the way down her arms to her knuckles. Add some claw-like horns at the points of the ears and rough-textured, leathery skin on the face and hands, and you had a being I wouldn't want to mess with.
"Interesting," Ma.s.sha grimaced, surveying what she could see of herself. "Did you make this up yourself, or is there a nasty dimension I haven't visited yet?"
"My own creation," I admitted. "The reputation you're going to build I wouldn't wish on any dimension I know of. Call it a Hoozit from the dimension Hoo."
"Who?"
"You've got it."
She rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Hot stuff, do me a favor and only teach me magik, okay? Keep your sense of humor for yourself. I've already got enough enemies."
"We still need a target," I said, slightly hurt.
"How about that one? It looks breakable."
I looked where she was pointing and nodded.
"Good enough. Give me a twenty count head start. If they're not protected, I'll be back out. If you don't see me in twenty, they're fair game. Do your worst."
"You know," she smiled rubbing her hands together, "this could be fun."
"Just remember that I'm in there before you decide exactly what today's 'worst' is."
The display she had chosen was a small, three-sided tent with a striped top. It was lined with shelves that were crowded with an array of stoppered bottles of all sizes and colors. As I entered, I noticed there was something in each of the bottles-smoky things that s.h.i.+fted as if they were alive.
"May I help you, sahr?" The Deveel proprietor asked, baring what he doubtless thought was a winning smile.
"Just browsing," I yawned. "Actually, I'm seeking refuge from gossip. All anyone can talk about is this pack of ruffians that's selling insurance."
The Deveel's face darkened and he spat out the door.
"Insurance! Extortion I call it. They ruined two of my treasures before I could stop them long enough to subscribe to their services. It was a dark day when they first appeared at the Bazaar."
"Yes, yes. Believe me, I've heard it before."
Having established that this shop was indeed under the protection of the Mob, I turned my attention to the displays.
With studied nonchalance, I plucked up a small bottle, no more than a hand's-width high, and peered at the contents. Murky movement and a vague sparkle met my gaze.
"Be careful," the proprietor cautioned. "Once a Djin is released, it can only be controlled if you address it by name."
"A Djin?"
The Deveel swept me with a speculative gaze. Since I wasn't doing the heavy work, I wasn't in disguise and looked like ... well, me.
"I believe in Klah, they're referred to as Genies."
"Oh. You have quite a collection here."
The Deveel preened at the praise.
"Do not be fooled by the extent of my poor shop's selection, young sahr. They are extremely rare. I personally combed the far reaches of every dimension . . . at great personal expense, I might add ... to find these few specimens worthy of...."
I had been wondering when Ma.s.sha was going to make her entrance. Well, she made it. Hoo-boy, did she make it. Right through the side of the tent.
With an almost musical chorus, the stand along the wall went over, dumping the bottles onto the floor. The released Djin rose in a cloud and poured out the open tent side, shrieking with inhuman joy as they went.
The Deveel was understandably upset.
"You idiot!" he shrieked. "What are you doing?"
"Pretty weak shelves," Ma.s.sha muttered in a gravelly-ba.s.s voice.
"Weak shelves?"
"Sure. I mean, all I did was this ..."
She shoved one of the remaining two shelves, which toppled obligingly into the last display.
This time the Djin didn't even bother using the door. They streaked skyward, taking the top of the tent with them as they screamed their way to freedom.
"My stock! My tent! Who's going to pay for this?"
"That's Hoozit," Ma.s.sha retorted, "and I'm certainly not going to pay. I don't have any money."
"No money?" the proprietor gasped.
"No. I just came in here to get out of the rain."
"Rain? Rain? But it isn't raining!"
"It isn't?" my apprentice blinked. "Then, goodbye."
With that she ambled off, making a hole in yet another tent side as she went.
The Deveel sank down in the shattered remains of his display and cradled his face in his hands.
"I'm ruined!" he moaned. "Ruined!"
"Excuse me for asking," I said. "But why didn't you call out their names and get them under control?"
"Call out their names? I can't remember the name of every Djin I collect. I have to look them up each time I sell one."
"Well, at least that problem's behind you."
That started him off again.
"Ruined!" he repeated needlessly. "What am I going to do?"
"I really don't know why you're so upset," I observed. "Weren't you just saying that you were insured?"
"Insured?"
The Deveel's head came up slowly.
"Certainly. You're paying to be sure things like this don't happen, aren't you? Well, it happened. It seems to me whoever's protecting your shop owes you an explanation, not to mention quite a bit of money."
"That's right!" the proprietor was smiling now. "More the latter than the former, but you're right!"
I had him going on now. All that was left to be done was the coup de grace.