"Speaking of merchandizing," the Ta-hoe spokesman commented, "what is the name of your team? We'll need it before we can go into production of the souvenirs."
"We're called ‘The Demons'," Aahz said, winking at me. In a flash I saw that his plan really was. "Would you like to know why?"
"Well ... I would assume it's because you play like demons," the Ta-hoe spokesman stammered.
"Not ‘like' demons!" my mentor grinned. "Shall we show them, partner?"
"Why not?" I smiled, closing my eyes.
In a moment, our disguises were gone, and for the first time the delegates had a look at what was opposing them.
"As I was saying," Aahz announced, showing all his teeth, "not ‘like' demons."
It was a good gambit, and it should have worked. Any sane person would quake at the thought of taking on a team of demons. No sacrifice would be too great to avoid the confrontation. We had overlooked one minor detail, however. Jahks are not sane people.
"Excellent," the Ta-hoe spokesman exclaimed.
"What?" Aahz blinked, his smile fading.
"This should keep the odds even," the spokesman continued. "That's what we were discussing... whether you could field a good enough team to make a fight of it. But now... well, everyone will want to see us matchup."
"You... aren't afraid of playing against demons?" my mentor asked slowly.
Now it was the spokesman's turn to smile.
"My dear fellow," he chortled, "if you had ever seen our teams play, you wouldn't have to ask that question."
With that, he turned and rejoined his delegation as the two groups prepared to withdraw from the meeting.
"Didn't you listen in on their conversations?" I hissed.
"If you'll recall," Aahz growled back, "I was busy talking with you at the time."
"Then we're stuck," I moaned.
"Maybe not," he corrected. "Quigley! Could we have a word with you?"
The ex-demon hunter lost no time in joining us.
"I must say," he chortled. "You boys did an excellent job of getting me out of a tight spot there. Now it's a matter of pride for them to win the Trophy back on the playing field."
"Swell," Aahz growled. "Now how about your part of the deal? Ta-hoe has its chance, so there's no reason for you to keep Tanda."
"Mmm ... yes and no," Quigley corrected. "It occurs to me that if I release her now, then you'll have the Trophy and Tanda, and would therefore have no motive to return for the game. To fulfill your promise, to give Ta-hoe a chance for the Trophy, the game will have to take place. Then I'll release Tanda."
"Thanks a lot," my mentor spat.
"Don't mention it," the ex-demon hunter waved as he went to rejoin his group.
"Now what do we do?" I asked.
"We form a team," Aahz shrugged. "Hey, Griffin!"
"What is it now?" the youth growled.
"We have one more job for you," my mentor smiled. "All you have to do is help us train our team. There are ... a few points of the game that aren't very clear to us."
"No," said Griffin firmly.
"Now look, short stuff..."
"Wait a minute, Aahz," I interrupted. "Griffin, this time we aren't threatening you. I'm offering you a job at good wages to help us."
"What!?" Aahz shrieked.
"Shut up, Aahz."
"You don't understand," Griffin interrupted in turn. "Neither threats nor money will change my mind. I helped you steal the Trophy from Veygus, but I won't help you against my own team. I'd die before I'd do that."
"There are worse things than dying," Aahz suggested ominously.
"Let it drop, Aahz," I said firmly. "Thanks anyway, Griffin. You've been a big help when we needed you, so I won't fault you for holding back now. Hurry up. The others are waiting."
We watched as he trotted off to join his delegation.
"You know, kid," Aahz sighed at last, "sometime we're going to have to have a long talk about these lofty ideals of yours."
"Sure, Aahz," I nodded. "In the meantime, what are we going to do about this game?"
"What else can we do?" my mentor shrugged. "We put together a team."
"Just like that," I winced. "And where are we going to find the players, much less someone who can tell us how the game is played?"
"Where else?" Aahz grinned, setting the DHopper. "The Bazaar at Deva!"
Chapter Eighteen:
"What's the point-spread on World War III?"
-R.REAGAN
AT several other points in this tale, I've referred to the Bazaar at Deva. You may be wondering about it. So do I... and I've been there!
Deva is the home dimension of the Deveels, acknowledged to be the best traders anywhere. You may find references to them in your folklore. Deals with Deveels are usually incredible and frequently disastrous. I've dealt with only two Deveels personally. One got me hung (not hung-over from drink- but hung up by the neck!) and the other sold me my dragon, Gleep. I like to think that makes me even, but Aahz insists I'm batting zero-whatever that means.
Anyway, there is a year-round, rock-the-clock Bazaar in that dimension where the Deveels meet to trade with each other. Everything imaginable and most things that aren't are available there. All you have to do is bargain with the Deveels. Fortunately, the Bazaar is large enough that there is much duplication, and sometimes you can play the dealers off against each other.
I had been here twice before, both times with Aahz. This was, however, the first time I had been here when it was raining.
"It's raining," I pointed out, scowling at the overhanging clouds. They were a dark orange, which was quite picturesque, but did nothing toward making getting wet more pleasant.
"I know it's raining," Aahz retorted tersely. "C'mon. Let's step in here while I get my bearings."
"Here," in this case, was some sort of invisible bubble enveloping one stall which seemed to be doing an admirable job of keeping the rain out. I've used magik wards before to keep out unwelcome intruders, but it had never occurred to me to use it against the elements.
"Buying or looking, gentlemen?" the proprietor asked, sidling up to us.
I glanced at Aahz, but he was up on his tiptoes surveying the surroundings.
"Um... looking, I guess."
"Then stand in the rain!" came the snarling reply. "Force fields cost money, you know. This is a display, not a public service."
"What's a force field?" I stalled.
"Out!"
"C'mon, kid," Aahz said. "I know where we are now."
"Where?" I asked suspiciously.
"In the stall of the Bazaar's rudest dealer," my mentor explained, raising his voice. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard him with my own ears."
"What's that?" the proprietor scowled.
"Are you Garbelton?" Aahz asked, turning his attention on the proprietor.
"Well... yes."
"Your reputation precedes you, sir," my mentor intoned loftily, "and is devastatingly accurate. Come, Master Skeeve, we'll take our business elsewhere."
"But, gentlemen!" Garbelton called desperately, "if you'll only reconsider ..."
The rest was lost as Aahz gathered me up and strode off into the rain.
"What was that all about?" I demanded, breaking stride to jump a puddle. Aahz stepped squarely on it, splashing maroon mud all over my legs. Terrific. "That? Oh, just a little smokescreen to save face. It isn't good for your reputation to get thrown out of places . .. particularly for not buying."
"You mean you hadn't heard of him before? Then how did you know his name?"