"Well..."
So much for my perfect defense. Not to be stymied, I switched immediately to Plan B, which was simply to keep our purchases at a minimum. I didn't seem to be too successful at that, either, but I consoled myself by trying to imagine how much junk we would have gotten loaded down with if I hadn't been riding the brake.
Surprisingly enough, despite all of Aahz's dire predictions, Markie wasn't much trouble at all. I found her to be remarkably well mannered and obedient, and she never asked me to buy her anything. Instead, she contented herself with pointing out to Bunny the few booths that individual overlooked.
There weren't many.
My only salvation was that Bunny did not seem interested in the usual collection of whiz-bangs and wowers that most visitors to the Bazaar find irresistible.
She was remarkably loyal to her prime passion-apparel. Hats, dresses, shoes, and accessories all had to pass her close scrutiny.
I'll admit that Bunny did not indulge in random purchases. She had a shrewd eye for fabric and construction, and better color sense than anyone I have ever known. Aahz always said that Imps were flashy dressers, and I had secretly tried to pattern my own wardrobe after their example. However, one afternoon of shopping with Bunny was an education in itself. Imps have nothing on molls when it comes to clothes sense.
The more I watched Bunny pursue the fashions available at the Bazaar, the more self-conscious I became about my own appearance. Eventually, I found myself looking over a few items for myself, and from there it was a short step to buying.
In no time flat, we had a small mountain of packages to cart along with us. Bunny had stocked up on a couple of outfits that changed color with her mood, and was now wearing an intriguing blouse which had a transparent patch that migrated randomly around her torso. If the latter sounds distracting, it was. My own indulgences were few, but sufficient to add to the overall bulk of merchandise we had to transport.
Guido and Nunzio were exempt from package-carrying duties, and Massha flatly refused on the basis that being a large woman trying to maneuver through the Bazaar was difficult enough without trying to juggle packages at the same time. Realizing the "you break it, you bought it" policies of the Bazaar, I could scarcely argue with her cautious position.
The final resolution to our baggage problem was really quite simple. I flexed my magic powers a bit and levitated the whole kit and kaboodle. I don't normally like to flaunt my powers publicly, but I figured that this was a necessary exception to the rule. Of course, having our purchases floating along behind us was like having a lighthouse in tow; it drew the Deveels out of their stalls in droves.
To my surprise, I started to enjoy the situation. Humility and anonymity is well and good, but sometimes its nice to be made a fuss over. Bunny hung on my arm and shoulder like a boneless falcon, cooing little endearments of appreciation ... though the fact that I was willing to finance her purchases seemed to be making as much as or more of an impression on her than my minor display of magic.
"Can't say I think much of her taste in clothes,"
Massha murmured to me as we paused once more while Bunny darted into a nearby booth.
To say the least, I was not eager to get drawn into a discussion comparing the respective tastes in clothes of Bunny and my apprentice.
"Different body types look better in different styles," I said, as tactfully as I could.
"Yeah? And what style looks best on my body type?"
"In all honesty, Massha, I can't picture you dressing any differently than you do."
"Really? Say, thanks, Skeeve. A girl always likes to hear a few appreciative noises about how she looks."
I had narrowly sidestepped that booby-trap and cast about frantically for a new subject before the other interpretation of my statement occurred to her.
"Umm ... hasn't Markie been well-behaved?"
"I'll say. I'll admit I was a little worried when you first brought her in, but she's been an angel. I don't think I've ever known a kid this patient and obedient."
"Undemanding, too," I said. "I've been thinking of getting her something while we're out, but I'm having trouble coming up with anything appropriate. The Bazaar isn't big on toy shops."
"Are you kidding? It's one big toy shop!"
"Massha..."
"Okay, okay. So they're mostly toys for adults. Let me think. How old is she, anyway?"
"I'm not really sure. She said she was in the third grade at Elementary School... even though she calls it Elemental School... so that would make her..."
I realized that Massha was staring at me in wide-eyed horror.
"Elemental School!?"
"That's what she called it. Cute, huh? Why, what does..."
My apprentice interrupted me by grabbing my arm so hard that it hurt. "Skeeve. We've got to get her back home... QUICK!!"
"But I don't see..."
"I'll explain later! Just get her and go! I'll round up Bunny and get her back, but you've got to get moving!"
To say the least, I found her manner puzzling. I had never seen Massha so upset. This was obviously not the time for questions, though, so I looked around for Markie. She was standing, fists clenched, glaring at a tent with a closed flap.
All of a sudden everyone was getting uptight. First Massha, and now Markie.
"What's with the kid?" I said, tapping Guide on the shoulder.
"Bunny's in trying on some peek-a-boo nighties, and the owner chased Markie out," my bodyguard explained. "She don't like it much, but she'll get over it. It's part of bein' a kid, I guess."
"I see. Well, I was just going to take her back home anyway. Could one of you stay here with ..."
"SKEEVE! STOP HER!!"
Massha was shouting at me. I was turning toward her to see what she was talking about when it happened, so I didn't see all the details.
There was a sudden WHOOSH followed by the sounds of ripping canvas, wood splintering, and assorted screams and curses.
I whipped my head back around, and my jaw dropped in astonishment.
The booth that Bunny was in was in tatters. The entire stock of the place was sailing off over the Bazaar, as was what was left of the tent. Bunny was trying to cover herself with her hands and screaming her head off. The proprietor, a particularly greasy-looking Deveel, was also screaming his head off, but his emotions were being vented in our general direction instead of at the world in general.
I would say it was a major dilemma except for one thing. The displays on either side of Bunny's tent and for two rows behind it were in a similar state. That is a major dilemma, making the destruction of a single booth pale in comparison.
A voice sprang into my head, drowning out the clamor of the enraged merchants. "If you break it, you bought it!" the voice said, and it spoke with a Devan accent.
"What happened?" I gasped, though whether to myself or to the gods, I wasn't sure.
Massha answered.
"What happened was Markie!" she said grimly. "She blew her cork and summoned up an air elemental... you know, like you learn to do at Elemental School? It appears that when the kid throws a tantrum, she's going to do it with magic!"
My mind grasped the meaning of her words instantly, just as fast as it leaped on to the next plateau. Aahz! I wasn't sure which was going to be worse: breaking the news to Aahz, or telling him how much it had cost us to learn about it!
Chapter Seven:
"There's a time to fight, and a time to hide out!"
-B. CASSIDY
I'VE heard that when some people get depressed, they retire to their neighborhood bar and tell their troubles to a sympathetic bartender. The problem with the Bazaar at Deva (a problem I had never noticed before) is that there are no sympathetic bartenders!