The Kazbah was remarkably similar to the Bazaar. I had to check once in a while to make sure the merchants shrieking out their sales pitch were Ghords, not Deveels. Tents, often no more than a flapping cloth canopy to keep off the aggressive noontime sun, did nothing to keep down the dust-fine sand that blew everywhere. I found myself wiping my eyes every few minutes, until I created a small spell that protected my face. The merchants offered everything from food to fine tailoring, delicate pottery to mill wheels. Local magicians, herbalists, fortune-tellers, and other seers offered their services by means of signs on which living glyphs beckoned to passersby.
I thought I would look around for little gifts for Bunny and Tananda. I was shocked but gratified how upset they had been over the prospect of losing me. When I thought about it, I was grateful for one more chance. We had just started to rebuild the camaraderie that I had left behind when I resigned from M.Y.T.H., Inc. The least I could do was bring them both a souvenir of the Zyx Valley. Maybe I could also find something to cheer Aahz up.
I threaded my way among the flapping tents. The most ancient stalls, the jewelers included, were carved right into the mountain sides. Lion-headed women with toothless jaws roared at me to come and inspect the spices or cloth or painted leatherwork or cast metal they had for sale. Everyone offered sour beer or mint tea if I would just sit down and let them show me their merchandise. Traders screamed at each other and their prospective clients, addressing them in every language until they came up with one that the prospect spoke. They were as allergic to giving change as Aahz was to letting loose a coin.
I got a lot more respect from the locals since the day I had boosted the pyramid. If I stopped to look at a display, tiny glyphs went zipping out of the shop past me into other booths along the streets. If I didn't ask about prices, the owners would snatch up a few examples of their goods and follow me, bleating about quality and pleading with me to come back.
"I will have so much more status if I can say that the visiting Klahd magician Skeeve the Magnificent shops here!"
"You will tell people who see you wear this, and everyone will come to me to buy one and I shall be rich! It would so benefit us both. Come back, come back!"
Most of the time I just smiled and kept walking, promising to go back some time, but I bought a few knickknacks just to enjoy the bargaining. I felt at home. Yes, the Kazbah was a lot like the Bazaar, traders, pickpockets, prostitutes, gullible travelers, and all.
My mind was on Aahz. He had dozens of clients lined up to see sites in Phase Two over the coming weeks, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it any longer. He was worried about the rumors that would start when it came out that a curse came with the location. What could we do about that? Treat it as some kind of premium? He had already had to give a refund to Bendix. That meant his commission was gone, too. A rug merchant from the Bazaar had wanted to sell sublets on his own. We were afraid if he did, an exponential accumulation of bad luck would devolve upon Aahz and Samwise. The more shares that were sold, the more risk they took. I couldn't think what would be worse than what had already happened, and I didn't want to find out. Diksen had apologized to us, but he had been firm. The curse stayed as long as the pyramids did. Yet we were all too committed to back out. Samwise had bills for materials, workers' salaries, advertising, magicians' fees, and union dues. He had to go on.
So did Aahz. He really, really wanted that top spot on Phase Two. He had already commissioned Ay-Talek to start on his stone herself. He had furnished the scribe with dozens of scrolls containing his exploits. She had exhibited the first glyphs she had carved on the side. They were beautifully rendered, though spelling out 'Pervect' had taken some tactful images.
Samwise avoided both of us whenever possible. He had put us in a terrible position. I would have left Ghordon in a minute and never returned, but we had to find a way to take the curse off Aahz. At the moment, Diksen's little booby-trap was still a secret, known only to the three of us, See-Ker's folks, and the friends whom Aahz had brought in as a strike force. None of those would tell, but who else had overheard our discussions? Ghords seemed to live to gossip. Glyphs seemed to shoot around the construction zone more often than before—or perhaps I was just more aware of it than I had been. We had to behave as if news of the curse could slip out at any time. Aahz spoke of damage control, but that went right back to not knowing just how to spin that piece of news. I didn't know what Samwise and Aahz would do if word got back to the Pharaoh. Considering how often he turned up underfoot, I was surprised Gurn hadn't managed to insinuate himself into our conference the other night.
I wandered into a narrow little street of cracked paving stones lined with open-topped wagons filled to the brim with odd merchandise, almost all of it worthless. I used my inner eye to look for magik items, but there was little to be had. Anything there with a touch of magik tended to have been doctored with a
pinch of Pyxie dust (citrus flavored) and a wink for the gullible. My hand lit upon one item that had a little glamour upon it. I realized I was holding a model of Diksen's pyramid. It was hollow underneath.
"Ah, sir," exclaimed the lizard-faced Ghord behind the wagon. "That is one of my most popular wares."
"What's it for?" I asked.
"It is used to store cheese," he said. "The power of the pyramid prevents it from aging. Here! See the one I use for myself." He took an identical curio from the counter behind him and held it out to me. A chunk of grayish cheese lay on a square dish beneath. I thought it smelled pretty terrible anyhow.
"I'm looking for a present for a friend, but he doesn't eat much cheese." "It will also preserve beer," the merchant said hopefully. "He never lets his beer get old."
The reptilian Ghord whisked it away. "Well, then, sir, this is not for you. Is there anything else I can help with?"
A thought struck me, and I made my way back toward the Avenue of the Magicians. Like the items in the barrows, most of their wares were fakes, too, but I found a couple of rival vendors selling scrolls and books of magik.
"You want what?" asked the first grimoire salesman I asked.
"Cures for magikal ailments," I said. "What to do if you accidentally pick up a bad amulet, or annoy one of the Ancients."
"For that, you wish 1,001 Forms of Propitiation," he suggested, handing me a hefty volume with a thick layer of dust on the cover. "The best way to get around the Ancients is to smother them with kindness. Here are all the known rituals and offerings for each of the old Ghords."
I fended off that book, as well as half a dozen others he suggested. None had anything to do with curses. I rephrased my query for the second sales-Ghord, a female with a nearsighted rodent's head. She frowned, her long teeth chewing at her lower lip.
"Sounds like a specialist job to me, young friend. How about a gazetteer to the dimension instead?"
"Say," I said, as if an idea struck me. "Do you ever sell anything to a magician named Diksen?"
The question caused both merchants to roll up like their own goods. I retreated. It wasn't going to be that easy to undo a spell without the caster cooperating.
Perhaps it would be better to concentrate on gift-buying. I made for the Avenue of the Jewelers. On one of her visits, the Pharaoh had worn a headband and a broad necklace made of jewels, either of which would have looked terrific on M.Y.T.H., Inc.'s new president for dress occasions. I wondered if I could find the jeweler who had made them. Since she had started choosing her own clothes, Bunny dressed fairly conservatively, but somehow her outfits managed to make her look even more sexy and appealing than the scanty garments had. When she dressed up to go out, she looked like a million gold pieces. For sticking with me during the months I spent finding myself I owed her my respect and loyalty, but a couple of little presents now and again were welcome, too. For Tananda, I thought a pretty bracelet would please her. The jewelers were delighted to talk design with me, and at least ten of them produced drawings of pieces they could produce in short order with as many gemstones as I liked, providing price was no object. I promised to consider and get back to them.