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 Aah2 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.