Chicks - Chicks 'N Chained Males Part 24

"Just let me get my hands free and I'll smite you all with a vast and awesome spell of destruction!"

"Try," Pojandra Foeslayer snarled, giving him an extra shove that nearly sent him tumbling off the bank and into the river. "Won't work while you're wearing those enchanted manacles, though. Took ten of us to get 'em on you, but it's worth the peace of mind." "Do you mean to kill us?" the dean demanded.

"Hardly," said the leader of swordswomen, one Lt. Vida Chookslaughter. "We just want toeducate you."

The elder Thrumble drew himself up huffily. "Madam, I am the dean of Overford Academy. I don'tneed an education."

"No, but someone ought to teach you a lesson."

"Good people of Overford!" Zoli called out. "I come before you with a heavy heart. This very day, while I was doing my sadly underpaid job, the water-dragon surged from the Iron River and attacked. I was as shocked as our mayor to see again a beast I'd thought dead. The monster took advantage of my amazement to strike me a mighty blow which threw me headfirst against a tree. When I recovered my senses, the dragon was gone. Alas, so were your children!"

Above the people's cries of anguish, Mayor Eyebright sternly said, "Madam, the town council will be expecting you to refund us a suitable portion of your salary, in view of the insufficient performance of your-"

A small but attention-getting pebble flew from Pojandra's sling and nipped the mayor's hat off his head and into the river. "Shut up, Baldy," she suggested.

"I loved those children as my own," Zoli went on. "Thus I resolved to avenge them. To this end, I sought the services of the greatest wizard in these parts."

"I never saw that woman before in my life!" Dean Thrumble spat.

"Notyou ." Zoli's contempt was epic. "I speak of Master Porfirio. From his wisdom I gleaned the reason for the dead water-dragon's return, and from his hands I receivedthis ." She yanked a small gla.s.s vial from her belt. "Behold the Elixir of Veracity! None whom it touches may speak aught save the truth!"

"And how is thetruth supposed to kill a dragon?" the mayor wanted to know.

"Yes, do tell," said the dragon. (Such patience and courtesy-that is, the beast's neglecting to devour anyone during the extended parley-were downright odd. However, most of those present were too thoroughly distracted by other matters to remark on it.) Zoli ignored both the mayor and the dragon. Without another word, she leaped lightly down from the pillar and sprinted the length of the bridge railing to the far bank, where the father-and-son wizards stood captive. Standing before them, she unstoppered the vial with her teeth and poured the contents over Master Thrumble's head before he could react in any way save incoherent spluttering.

"Phew! What'sin that stuff?" his father asked.

"The doom of liars!" boomed a new voice. There was a second puff of purple smoke and Master Porfirio appeared upon the same pillar Zoli had just vacated. "A brew of my own devising, compounded of the dead dragon's liquefied vitals."

"But the dragon'snot dead!" the dean and the mayor objected as one. "I was," the beast in question said, "but I got better. It's a fascinating story, good Overforders, most of which has to do with what's been mucking upyour river, but I'm not the one who can tell it.Am I, Mayor Eyebright?" it ended on a note of dreadful significance.

The onlookers began to mutter amongst themselves. The mayor, trapped in the midst of a disgruntled const.i.tuency, felt fear beyond any that the revenant water-dragon could evoke. Nervously he exclaimed, "Alarmist nonsense! Nothing's wrong with the river."

"No, dragonsalways come back from the dead," someone said snidely.

"We'll see," said Master Porfirio with unnerving calm. He waved his hands and materialized in quick succession a vial identical to Zoli's, a chicken carca.s.s, and a length of thin rope. Anointing the dead bird with the gloop from the vial, he tied it by the feet, held it up before his face, and in a loud voice quizzed it thus: "Are you now or have you ever been a marmoset?"

"Here! How can a dead chicken lie?" the mayor demanded.

"Or tell the truth, for that matter?" someone else asked.

"What's a marmoset?" a third party wanted to know.

"Shush," the fat merchant directed them. "It is likely a wizardly matter. They're always communing with the strangest things. Don't let him hear you questioning his ways or the next dead chicken may be you."

Master Porfirio laid an ear to the fowl's side, then announced, "She says yes! And now . . ." He swung the body overhead at the rope's end and let it drop into the river. When he reeled it out again and the mob saw the horrific changes that had overtaken the small corpse many turned pale, some gasped, a few screamed, and one unsteady soul vomited over the railing.

"Behold the power of the elixir and the fate of liars!" Master Porfirio proclaimed, flouris.h.i.+ng the blackened, boil-encrusted remains of the experimental poultry.

Zoli turned to Master Thrumble. "I'm only going to ask youone question before I shove you in the drink and we see what the elixir thinks ofyou : What have you been doing to this river and who's been making it easy for you to go on doing it?"

For only one question, it was a doozy, and young Thrumble's reply was worthy of it. By the time he finished rattling through his deposition, most of the Market Day crush had come up out of Overford Town just to listen. Apparently he had never quite mastered the art of summoning demons to transport his alchemical errors to the safety of the Netherworld, as was standard safety practice among wizards.

The one time he tried, the fiend broke free of a defective pentagram and only his father's intervention saved him from annihilation. He never found the nerve to try again. Dumping his "leftovers" into the river seemed like the perfect solution: cheap, simple, and didn't everybody do it? There were some complaints from local anglers over the mounting number of fish kills, but a word with Mayor Eyebright and the complaints vanished. By a strange coincidence, so did the anglers. Master Thrumble admitted to feeling a smidgen of concern when the water-dragon was reported missing-presumed-dead, but soothed his conscience with the thought that it wasn't a bad thing if the stuff he'd dumped in the river had killed a monster.

"Didn't kill it any toopermanent , though, ha?" someone on the bridge yelled. "Myson crossed that river twice a day!" someone on the townside bank added. "If he'd fallen in, your sludge might've killedhim !"

"Itdid kill him!" someone else cried. "Andpermanent! Did that when it brought the water-dragon back to life and it et him!"

Other parents amid the press now added their voices to the rising clamor. The swordswomen instinctively moved into protective formation around their captives at the sound of a mob baying for revenge, its mildest demand being that Master Thrumble be tossed into the river without delay.

Master Porfirio gazed down upon the rabble and innocently asked, "Why would we want to do that?"

"Because of what you did with the chicken," someone hollered up at him. "Tothe chicken.Using the chicken."

"Yeah!" someone else added. "With the magic elixir-thingie."

"Oh. That. No, I don't think so. You see, good people, sometimes when the truth comes to light, it's more than magic: it's a miracle. And so, if all that young Thrumble told us is true, we ought to be seeing a much more spectacular proof of it right . . . about . . .now! "

The water-dragon let out a spine-p.r.i.c.kling howl. "O, I am slain!Again !" it wailed. "The truth has finished me! O woe, alas, alack, welladay-"

"Yes, yes, point taken. Now fall down already!" Master Porfirio directed.

The dying dragon eyed the river uneasily. "Intothat? "

"Oh, for-!" Raising one hand, Master Porifiro engulfed the swaying monster in an impenetrable cloud of smoke which was, for a change, green instead of purple.

It was rather a lot of smoke, veiling the dragon, the bridge, large shares of both riverbanks, and most of the crowd. People stumbled through the murk, coughing, b.u.mping into things, and calling out "Is that you?" in a generally useless manner. At last a brisk breeze swept in, banis.h.i.+ng the thick haze.

One of the town patrol rubbed his eyes, blinked, and declared: "The water-dragon's gone!"

"Course it is. Didn't you hear that nice young wizard? The truth was spoke and it was the truth that got rid of it once and for all."

"If that's so, I'd like to lay my hands on that Master Thrumbleand his pa for what they done to our river!"

"Hard luck. Look across the water. They're gone as well, and them female sword-slingers with 'em.

Prob'ly run off, and good for 'em."

"Come to think of it, where's that nice young wizard? And our Zoli?And our rotten excuse for a mayor?"

"Ex-mayor soon enough, you mark my words." "Can't say I care if I ever see himor them Thrumbles again, but what happened to the others? Where did they-?"

Someone standing by the railing on the downriver side of the bridge gave a shout of amazement and joy that brought an end to all other conversations. The people thronged the railing, pus.h.i.+ng and shoving in an effort to see what it was that now came drifting slowly out from beneath the shadow of the toll bridge. A volley of wild cheers went up as the raft emerged into full sunlight, Garth Justi's-son at the tiller, all the schoolchildren of Overford aboard.

"Magic's nice," said one onlooker. "But give me a miracle any day. Less smoke."

"Can I take this smelly thing offnow ?" Ethelberthina asked. She indicated the patch of water-dragon hide balanced on her head.

"You may," Master Porfirio said, closing the door of Zoli's cottage behind him. "Sorry about the smell, but you know it was necessary. No wizard can conjure a truly effective illusion without some token bit of the real thing to anchor the chimera."

"Sorry for the delay, too," said Zoli. "We had to settle certain matters with the town council."

"And about time." The girl doffed the piece of water-dragon hide and stepped out of the wizard's chalked diagram. She was in such a hurry that she almost upset the scrying basin full of river water which had allowed her to observe the goings-on at the bridge and manipulate the dragon's image accordingly.

"A job well donetakes time," Master Porfirio recited, ever the academic. "And you should certainly take pride in this one. You're a clever girl, Ethelberthina. Your plan won me back my job, and a promotion to Deanpro tem . It won Zoli back the respect of the townsfolk and their offspring."

"Anda fat raise," Zoli added.

"It also won us all a clean river, now that I've got the clout to organize a ma.s.sed faculty cleansing spell, and it won you-hmm. Whatdid it win you?"

"The right to continue her education," Zoli supplied.

"Nnno. The council told us that her father will lose his job for this, remember? And her own money's all tied up in trust. She can't pay the fees."

"After all she's done for you, you'd charge hertuition ?" Zoli's hand automatically fell to her sword.

The wizard was rueful. "I'm dean, but I have no power over school finances. Our bursar's a troll-literally. Trolls only understand the bottom line."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Etherlberthina said cheerfully. "I'll be earning my own money, soon enough."

"Indeed? How?"

"By bottling and selling as much Iron River water as I can before you clean it up," she replied. "Who would want to buythat swill?" Zoli asked.

Rather than answer, Ethelberthina inquired, "Would either of you have some dragon skin to hand?

Besides this, I mean." She waggled the patch of hide.

Zoli looked dubious, but rummaged through her storage chests. "I'm not supposed to have this," she said handing the girl a limp remnant. "The king knows that armor made from these scales is flexible, light, and virtually impenetrable, so he reserves it forhis soldiers. He also knows that it's the only edge those clods have over the swordsisters, which is why royal law forbids a freelance female from owning even a sc.r.a.p of it. But I had to keep this, law or no. It's a souvenir of my first dragon slaying."

"Well, you'll always have your memories," said Ethelberthina, and dropped it in the scrying basin. Zoli said a highly improper word and fished it out with the tip of her sword, only to have the girl smoothly swat the blade upward, sending the soaked bit of hide flying. The scales. .h.i.t the floor and shattered like thin ice.

Zoli gaped. "The river water doesthat to dragon scales?"

"And dragonscale armor too," Ethelberthina said. "Nowcan you guess who'll buy it from us? Of course we'll get better prices once the river's cleaned up, and we're the only ones with a supply of the old water put by."

" 'We'?"

"Well, I'll need help with packaging, advertising, distribution . . . You'd have to quit your job as a crossing guard, Zoli, but you're our ideal sales rep to the Swordsisters' Union. What do you think they'd pay for the Elixir of Equality?"

"Nothing they couldn't recoup once the king's enemies start hiring them wholesale," Master Porifiro muttered.

Zoli of the Brazen s.h.i.+eld laid one hand on the little girl's shoulder. "Ethelberthina," she said, "has anyone ever told you that you're a veryexceptional girl?"

"Yes," she replied. "But for once it's nice to hear it as a compliment."

Even the ancient Greeks knew it: There reallyis...o...b..siness like show business.

This is Kate's firstChicksappearance, though by no means her first sale. She's the author of six young adult mysteries, with a seventh on the way, and her work-in-progress, Polar City Nightmare, will be forthcoming from Orion Press in England.

. . . But Comedy is Hard

Kate Daniel

It wasn't my fault I stumbled. Blame the slob who threw his melon rind on the pavement instead of in the gutter where it belonged. These big city-state modern Greeks have no graces left, no culture. The great days of Athens are long past. Which in a way is where the whole affair started, not just with Citizen Melon-dropper.

But start with the stumble. It was embarra.s.sing enough . . .

"Hippolyte! What're you . . . be careful . . . Hades, will you watch where you swing that sword?"

I didn't answer, being somewhat preoccupied with staying on my feet, a normally easy task made difficult by melon rinds underfoot. I'm no acrobat, but I felt like one as I twisted, righted myself, overbalanced once more, and finally steadied myself with my new sword. Called into service as a crutch, the tip of the blade plunged deep into the piece of melon, skewering it neatly.

My impromptu dance had drawn laughter around the agora, which rose to scattered cheers and applause at this point. I hammed it up for the gawkers, bowing and holding up the rind-topped sword as if it were laurel awarded a victor. After a moment I dropped the pose, lowered my sword, and pushed the garbage off the blade with my foot. Traffic in the agora resumed as I examined my pretty new toy for damage. Bronze is hard, but it can still be nicked.

Then a familiar voice spoke behind me. "Brava, my dear. I haven't laughed so hard in ages, certainly not at my own poor efforts. Nowthat is comedy!" It was a musical voice, pitched to carry.

"No, it's clumsiness." Glycera, my fellow Amazon, came forward once my blade no longer posed a threat to nearby eyes, ears, and limbs. She's a square-built older woman, tough as a boot, who wears her armor as easily as an Athenian housewife wears her chiton. "Hippolyte, I don't know what your mother was thinking of, naming you for the Old Queen."

"She probably thought she could get back at her own first sergeant by giving another one a headache in the ranks. Don't you just love being a part of the great Amazon tradition?" I sheathed the sword, and turned to face the man who had spoken, doing my best to smile charmingly. Given how embarra.s.sed I was by my awkward salute to Terpsich.o.r.e, I don't think it worked. "You're Nicomachus, aren't you? I loved your Silenus last year."

"Didyou?" The grin widened. "I'm glad somebody did. The judges weren't too happy with it."

"But . . ." Before I could say more, another man took Nicomachus by the elbow and steered him away.

The borders on the newcomer's robe were wide and purple, embroidered with gold; probably the sponsor, who wouldn't enjoy waiting while an actor discussed the art of comedy with an Amazon warrior-girl. The actor in question directed a helpless smile back at me over his shoulder, confirming my guess.

So did the sergeant's next words. "That's Timaeus, the s.h.i.+pping king. You don't keep that sort waiting."

"But what did he mean about the judges? That was the funniest Silenus I've ever seen!"

"You know that's not how the world works. That Silenus almost cost Nico the prize last year;way too old-fas.h.i.+oned an interpretation. Only reason the judges didn't give the wreath to someone else was because he did such a terrific job on the part of the G.o.d and, well, heis Nico." "But it wasfunny! "

"So it was funny. That and half an obol will buy you a cup of wine. G.o.ddess, Hippolyte, sometimes you act as if you've never been out of the Caucasus before."