"I refuse to let Skeeve get shopped to death," I said, darkly.
My companions agreed heartily.
"What do we do first?" Massha asked.
"Cut him off," I said. "If the key to draining someone is by impersonating him, then the impersonator can't be allowed to make any more purchases in Skeeve's name."
"I'll put out an all-points bulletin at once," Par said, reaching into his pocket. His hand came up empty, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of green. "My globe's in my uniform. I'll have to go back to my quarters for it."
"Make it snappy," Massha urged him.
"But what about you? I am supposed to show you around."
"I can guide them," Eskina suggested.
When Parvattani made a face, she made one back.
"What do you think? I have been here for a long time looking for Rattila. I know this place as well as you do— better, maybe! Come on," she urged us. "He can find us later."
SEVEN
"I'm overwhelmed," Massha admitted, as we left the Mystikal Bar. "This place is too huge! I mean, normally I would be overjoyed to have more stores at my fingertips than I could ever shop in a lifetime, but I'm at a loss. How do we cover them all?"
I had no idea, but as the leader of this expedition, I had to show leadership, and the first key of good leadership is delegation of responsibilities.
"You're the friendly almost-native guide around here," I said to Eskina, who was trotting along a pace ahead of me like a tiny Sherpa. "Where would you start looking for someone?"
"We are going there," the Ratislavan investigator informed me, with an airy wave. "The center of The Mall is the center of the community."
"Community?" Chumley asked.
"But of course! When you work day by day next to someone else, you get to know them, no? It is a neighborhood. Even if you do not sleep there, it is as though you live there. People you see every day, customers who come in all the time, the complainers, the bargain hunters—"
I slapped my forehead. "It's the Bazaar except indoors," I exclaimed, feeling like a dope. "Who's in charge here? A Merchants' Association?"
"The administration," Eskina replied. "The shopkeepers do not have an association, but that is a good idea. I will begin to talk it up with my friends. They have some concerns that the administration does not always address."
I grimaced. If I'd just provided the seeds of subversion, I wasn't going to let it get traced back to me if I could help it. "No, I mean who's really in charge. The administration's in charge of the physical plant, assigning spaces, collecting rent. Who's the mayor of this burb? Who's the goto guy, or the one you really don't want to piss off?"
"Ah!" Eskina nodded. "This is more sense. The Barista, of course. I will take you to the coffee shop."
I began to get a better idea of how The Mall was laid out as we walked. Big stores formed anchor points at intersections, with strings of small, smaller, and downright tiny establishments linking them. According to the map most of them were as modest as they appeared. Not many had taken the transdimensional route as The Volcano had.
The parallels between The Mall and the Bazaar became more obvious the farther we went. I noticed a delicate little Gnome female weighing out gems for a pair of burly horned-and-hooved travelers at the booth of the currency exchange she ran. Behind them, out of their line of vision but fully in sight of the Gnome were a couple of Trolls from the bar next door, each holding a club in case the travelers got rowdy. The transaction came to. an end, the customers thanked her and departed, and the Trolls melted unobtrusively back into their establishment. Eskina was right: neighbors, looking out for one another.
A sign pinned to the wall read "Rub My Belly, two silver pieces." Underneath it, on the floor, a large dog lay on his back, wiggling seductively. He lifted his nose and sniffed, then whined. "Eskina!"
The Ratislavan hurried over to fondle the dog's belly.
"How are you, Radu?" she asked.
"Very well. No sniff of the scent you seek."
"Ah, well." The female sighed. "Thank you for being vigilant."
"How about you?" Radu looked up at us with big brown eyes. "Reduced rates for friends of my friends?"
Massha smiled. "Why not?" She stooped to tickle the dog's hairy stomach. "Reminds me of my Hugh." Radu writhed all over with pleasure. "That reminds me of Hugh, too."
I groaned. "Too much information, Massha." I strode on.
"Hey, friend," a whinnying voice hailed me. I glanced in that direction. A huge, dappled gray horse stood at the door of a well-lit shop with a swinging sign emblazoned shire oat meals hanging horizontally on a pole over his head. Inside I could see a host of customers of several species, including Klahds, standing at a high bar, dining with spoons or eating right out of the dish. He tossed his head, making his long white mane dance. "Come in and try a bowl! Best oatmeal you'll ever taste! Today's special is whole grain cereal, with a bright red pippin on the side."
"No, thanks," I called back. "I like my food a little more active."
"Perverts," whispered his coworker, a smaller black steed.
It was meant to be an aside, but my species has very keen hearing. I don't take that kind of abuse from anybody.
"Do you want to be the main course?" I bellowed.
"Neigh!" she whickered in alarm, backing into the diner with a clatter of hooves.
The gray rider blew out his lips at me. "There's no need to be offensive," he chided.
"Maybe you'll remember next time: it's Pervect!"
"Aahz!" Massha poked me in the head with a finger. She was floating above our heads. "Say, Eskina, is it always this warm in here?" "Not really," Eskina replied. "Normally the climate is very well controlled. The volcano underneath the mall generates geothermal energy to run the technology that .many of the shops are selling. And it keeps us very warm in the winter. But this is summer, and it is much too hot. The building engineer is falling behind in his job. Ah, here he comes! Jack!" She jumped up and down, waving to a fair-haired male in a pointed red cap with a bobble on the end.
I saw him skimming toward us as the crowd parted to let him by. He stood about my height, clad in a red jacket and breeches. Effortlessly, he nipped in and out of clusters of shoppers, gliding smoothly on one foot, then the other.
He didn't have skates on. I realized, as I saw vapor condensing around his body in the hot air, that he had to be a weather wizard or something equally powerful. As he got closer I saw a trail of ice form where his feet touched the floor. With his heels together and feet pointing outward in a straight line from toe to toe, he skimmed around us in ever-decreasing circles until he came to a halt directly in front of the Ratislavan.
"Eskina!" he exclaimed, sweeping her up in his arms. He had the features of a well-fed elf, with light blue eyes and strawberry blond hair framing an agreeably round face, pink on the apples of the cheeks and the tip of his sharp nose, but pale everywhere else. His ears, unlike the locals', had only one point each.
"Put me down," Eskina chided him, tapping him on the chest. "You will freeze me."
"Sorry." He grinned. "I don't know my own BTUs, sometimes."
"Let me present new friends," she offered, introducing us each by name. "You have probably heard of Jack Frost?" she asked me.
I received a solid handshake and drew back a hand chilled to the bone.
"The Jack Frost?" I asked. "The elemental?"
"Yup!" that dignitary replied cheerfully. "Nice to meet you! Are you shopping for something special today?" "No, they are not," Eskina corrected him, before I could speak. "They are going to help me find Rattila."