Unfortunately, we didn't have long to wait for the response. I heard the yell before I could see where it was coming from.
"Aaaaaa— AAAAAAGGGGGH!"
I looked up in time to see a figure hurtling down on me from the sky. I reached out with a net of magik, and intercepted Pe-Kid before he smashed into the ground. He landed on top of me. He got up and danced around in a circle, beating at the back of his kilt. It was on fire.
"Good will?" he sputtered. "He threw me out! With extreme prejudice!"
"Gee, I'm sorry," I said, sincerely. "I never guessed that Diksen would attack a messenger. Uh, where's the deed?"
Huffily, Pe-Kid held up a fist. He opened it, and red sand sifted down onto the flagstones. He stalked away without another word.
So the direct approach wasn't going to work. Subtler means were needed.
I tried leaving an interesting-looking document on the scroll-sellers' wagon with a deed to a slab written in small print in the corner. A passing thief picked it up and stuffed it into the front of his tunic. He was run over by a wagon full of cabbages at the next intersection.
I remembered from my shortened lunch with Matt that Diksen's mother liked sweets. I sought out the merchant that she favored, and had them send a box of the best dried fruits to the sphere. That afternoon, I watched them fall out of the bottom of the ball of water like a rain of pruny hailstones. They dropped into the sand, never to be seen again.
I was not optimistic when I returned to M.Y.T.H., Inc., that evening. None of my partners looked any more cheerful than I felt.
"I didn't find a thing," Tananda said, her legs curled under her in the exotic pouffe chair. "He was an honor student at M.I.T. Graduated at the top of his class."
I was impressed. The Magicians Institute of Thaumaturgy was the best school on the list maintained by the Council of Wizards. If I'd had the resources and, to be honest, the knowledge it had existed, I would have tried for it when I was starting out.
"Tweety said Diksen's a member in good standing of the Magicians' Club," Aahz said, though it looked as if it hurt to say so. "Never a single complaint. He's been in longer than I have . . . was."
I didn't say anything, but that statement filled in a blank for me.
"As far as I can tell, he's got no exotic hobbies, not much in the way of outside activities and if he has friends or lovers, he's amazingly discreet about all of them," Bunny said, referring to Bytina's screen. "He takes good care of his mother, and he minds his own business."
"We have no in," I said glumly. "Maul-De never goes out during daylight. Diksen goes to the Kazbah several afternoons a week. He visits a few shops in the capital, but never goes to the royal palace. None of the shopkeepers will tell me a thing."
"What about his secretary?" Bunny asked. "She seemed to like you."
"She won't say anything," I said. "She got upset when I asked her."
"All right," Bunny said, sitting upright in her chair. "We'll keep plugging away at our other prospects. Any other business we need to talk about?"
Bunny's question got me thinking. I hadn't really pushed Matt for information because it made both of us uncomfortable. But there was more at stake now. I was worried about Gurn making good on his threat. I didn't want to spend any more time underneath the surface of Ghordon than I already had. I was also concerned about Aahz. He insisted on hanging on to Samwise's project in spite of the Imp's dishonesty.
I, too, hated to leave the pyramids. It was one of the most fascinating things I had ever seen, watching the triangular buildings take shape from the ground up. The moment a stone was in place, it looked as if it had been there forever. I understood Aahz's attraction to them. But in the last few days, Aahz had lost his wallet once, gotten bashed by a falling hammer, had a Deveel woman slap him in the face because she thought he'd been the one to pinch her backside, and suffered several more papercuts, something that had never happened in his entire life. I just couldn't see him suffer any longer, if there was anything I could do about it.
I had to take a risk and see if I could get Matt to help me. Perhaps, if she came to think of me as a nice guy, she would sympathize with our position. I had been taking lessons from a couple of the smartest women I had ever known. It was time to put some of that knowledge to use. I would ask Matt on a real date.
"Don't make an invitation an all-or-nothing proposition," Bunny had warned me in one of our late evening sessions. "Make it easy for her to say yes, but leave it open for her to say no if she has to. Both of you will be less embarrassed. Make it friendly and casual."
To me, the best way not to provoke an instant 'no' from her was not to invite her in person. I was too nervous to ask her face to face, and I really didn't want to take a chance on running into Diksen again. I
would send her a glyph. Everybody in Ghordon used them. Why shouldn't I? Matt said she got messages all day, and her boss didn't mind.
But I had never sent a glyph. I needed help. I glanced around the office as I went in. Miss Tauret gave me a pleasant smile. I knew she sent and received plenty of glyphs, but she was the last person I could trust to keep confidence for me. None of the other clerks in the office were good candidates, since they all worked closely together. The curse was still more of a rumor than a reality, and I wanted to keep it that way. I also didn't want anybody teasing me about girls.
Ay-Talek was the obvious choice. The chief scribe was an older Ghordess who would understand that I didn't want a potential date to become news across Aegis.
I found Ay-Talek working on a stone with a dozen apprentices in front of her, all very young. The lion-headed boy Ghord at her feet was still missing one fang, and his mane hadn't grown in yet. The reptile-headed girl's teeth were rounded instead of pointed. But they were intent on the lesson.
I was fascinated, too, as Ay-Talek lectured, tapping out a careful glyph with her hammer and chisel. I started to read the engravings already on the huge stone block. I'd picked up a bit of the language, but not enough for the subtleties of an invitation. Still, I thought I could read some of the text. A thief, or so the picture of the male with hand in someone else's belt pouch indicated. I wasn't sure about the next image. From the rows of sharp teeth that had been etched in, it looked a little like a dragon, or maybe a lizard-headed Ghord. Ay-Talek was working on another glyph on a lower row. The patron who had purchased this stone was rich, or wanted the reader of this epitaph to think he was rich. Really rich. It was definitely a man's stone. He had won some kind of game that meant a lot to him. He had many people that looked up to him. He had two wives—no, girlfriends—no, female friends. In fact, he had lots of friends. I skimmed a few more glyphs. This man had had success in business. He was wise, lucky, liked playing cards, enjoyed good food and wine. I suddenly realized it seemed this person had led a life a lot like mine, except that I didn't have an ugly father. No names had yet been filled in, and no indicators were present to show what race the person came from.
"Who's this one for?" I asked curiously.
"All identities are confidential unless the client releases the information," Ay-Talek said crisply. She definitely was the person I needed to help me.
"Well, if the owner comes back to the site, will you tell him I'd like to meet him?" I asked. "He sounds like someone I'd like to know."
"Certainly," Ay-Talek said. She brushed stone grit off her lap and smiled at me. "What may I do for you?" I glanced at the children. She shooed them away. "Go play for a while! And don't get in the Scarabs' way!" The little ones ran off, and Ay-Talek tilted her head at me.
"I need a small favor," I said, once I was sure no one could overhear us. "How can I send a glyph to someone?"