Robert Asprin - Myth 06 - Little Myth Marker

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This Ace book contains the complete text of the original edition. It has been

completely reset in a typeface designed for easy reading, and was printed from

new film.

LITTLE MYTH MARKER

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with Starblaze Editions of the Donning

Company/Publishers

PRINTING HISTORY

Donning edition published 1985

Ace edition / July 1987

Cover art by Walter Velez.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any

other means, without permission. For information address: The Donning

Company/Publishers, 5659 Virginia Beach Blvd., Norfolk, VA 23502.

ISBN: 0-441-48499-9

Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

The name "ACE" and the "A" logo are trademarks belonging to Charter

Communications, Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

10 9 8 7 6

Chapter One:

"The difference between an inside straight and a blamed fool is callin' the

last bet!"

-B. MAVERICK

"CALL!"

"Bump."

"Bump again."

"Who're you trying to kid? You got elf-high nothing!"

"Try me!"

"All right! Raise you limit."

"Call."

"Elf-high nothing bumps you back limit."

"Fold."

"Call."

For those of you starting this book at the beginning (Bless you! I hate it

when readers cheat by reading ahead!), this may be a little confusing. The

above is the dialogue during a game of dragon poker. What is dragon poker, you

ask? Well, it's reputed to be the most complicated card game ever invented ...

and here at the Bazaar at Deva, they should know.

The Bazaar is the biggest shopping maze and haggling spot in all the

dimensions, and consequently gets a lot of dimension travelers (demons)

passing through. In addition to the shops, stalls, and restaurants (which

really doesn't do justice to the extent or variety of the Bazaar) there is a

thriving gambling community in residence here. They are always on the lookout

for a new game, particularly one that involves betting, and the more

complicated the better. The basic philosophy is that a complicated game is

more easily won by those who devote full time to its study than by the

tourists who have dabbled in it or are trying to learn it as the game goes on.

Anyway, when a Deveel bookie tells me that dragon poker is the most

complicated card game ever, I tend to believe him.

"Fold."

"Call."

"Okay, Mr. Skeeve the Grater. Let's see you beat this! Dragons full!"

He exposed his hole cards with a flourish that bordered on a challenge.

Actually, I had been hoping he would drop out of the hand. This particular

individual (Grunk, I think his name was) was easily two heads taller than me

and had bright red eyes, canines almost as long as my forearm, and a nasty

disposition. He tended to speak in an angry shout, and the fact that he had

been losing steadily had not mellowed him in the slightest.

"Well? C'mon! What have you got?" I turned over my four hole cards, spread

them next to the five already face up, then leaned back and smiled.

"That's it?" Grunk said, craning his neck and scowling at my cards. "But

that's only ..."

"Wait a minute," the player on his left chimed in. "It's Tuesday. That makes

his unicorns wild."

"But it's a month with an 'M' in it!" someone else piped up. "So his ogre is

only half of face value!"

"But there's an even number of players...."

I told you it was a complicated game. Those of you who know me from my earlier

adventures (blatant plug!) may wonder how it is I understand such a complex

system. That's easy. I don't! I just bet, then spread the cards and let the

other players sort out who won.

You may wonder what I was doing sitting in on a cutthroat game of dragon poker

when I didn't even know the rules. Well, for once, I have an answer. I was

enjoying myself on my own for a change.

You see, ever since Don Bruce, the Mob's fairy godfather, supposedly hired me

to watch over the Mob's interests at the Bazaar and assigned me two

bodyguards, Guido and Nunzio, I've rarely had a moment to myself. This

weekend, however, my two watchdogs were off making their yearly report to Mob

Central, leaving me to fend for myself. Obviously, before they left, they made

me give my solemn promise to be careful. Also obviously, as soon as they were

gone, I set out to do just the opposite.

Even aside from our percentage of the Mob's take at the Bazaar, our magic

business had been booming, so money was no problem. I filched a couple

thousand in gold from petty cash and was all set to go on a spree when an

invitation arrived to sit in on one of the Geek's dragon poker games at this

club, the Even-Odds.

As I said before, I know absolutely nothing about dragon poker other than the

fact that at the end of a hand you have five cards face up and four face down.

Anything I've tried to get my partner, Aahz, to teach me more about the game,

I've been lectured about '^only playing games you know" and "don't go looking

for trouble." Since I was already looking for mischief, the chance to defy

both my bodyguards and my partner was too much to resist. I mean, I figured

the worst that could happen was that I'd lose a couple thousand in gold.

Right?

"You're all overlooking something. This is the forty third hand and Skeeve

there is sitting in a chair facing north!"

I took my cue from the groans and better-censored expressions of disgust and

raked in the pot.

"Say, Geek," Grunk said, his red eyes glittering at me through half-lowered

eyelids. "Are you sure this Skeeve fellow isn't using magic?"

"Guaranteed," responded the Deveel who was gathering the cards and shuffling

for the next hand. "Any game I host here at the Even-Odds is monitored against

magic and telepathy.''

"Weelll, I don't normally play cards with magicians, and I've heard that

Skeeve here is supposed to be pretty good in that department. Maybe he's good

enough that you just can't catch him at it."

I was starting to get a little nervous. I mean, I wasn't using magic . . . and

even if I was going to, I wouldn't know how to use it to rig a card game. The

trouble was that Grunk looked perfectly capable of tearing my arms off if he

thought I was cheating. I began racking my brain for some way to convince him

without admitting to everyone at the table just how little I knew about magic.

"Relax, Grunk. Mr. Skeeve's a good player, that's all. Just because he wins

doesn't mean he's cheating."

That was Pidge, the only other human-type in the game. I shot him a grateful

smile.

"I don't mind someone winning," Grunk muttered defensively, "But he's been

winning all night."

"I've lost more than you have," Pidge said, "and you don't see me griping. I'm

tellin' you Mr. Skeeve is good. I've sat in on games with the Kid, and I

should know."

"The Kid? You've played against him?" Grunk was visibly impressed.

"And lost my socks doing it," Pidge admitted wryly. "I'd say that Mr Skeeve

here is good enough to give him a run for his money, though."

"Gentlemen? Are we here to talk or to play cards?" the Geek interrupted,

tapping the deck meaningfully.

"I'm out," Pidge said, rising to his feet. "I know when I'm outclassed-even if

I have to go in the hole before I'll admit it. My marker still good. Geek?"

"It's good with me if nobody else objects."

Grunk noisily slammed his fist down on the table, causing several of my stacks

of chips to fall over.

"What's this about markers?" he demanded. "I thought this was a cash-only

game! Nobody said anything about playing for IOU's."

"Pidge here's an exception," the Geek said. "He's always made good on his

marker before. Besides, you don't have to worry about it, Grunk. You aren't

even getting all of your money back."

"Yeah. But I lost it betting against somebody who's betting markers instead of

cash. It seems to me..."

"I'll cover his marker," I said loftily. "That makes it personal between him

and me, so it doesn't involve anyone else at the table. Right, Geek?"

"That's right. Now shut up and play, Grunk. Or do you want us to deal you

out?"

The monster grumbled a bit under his breath but leaned back and tossed in

another chip to ante for the next hand.

"Thanks, Mr. Skeeve," Pidge said. "And don't worry. Like the Geek says, I

always reclaim my marker."

I winked at him and waved vaguely as he left, already intent on the next hand

as I tried vainly to figure out the rules of the game.

If my grand gesture seemed a little impulsive, remember that I'd been watching

him play all night, and I knew how much he had lost. Even if all of it was on

IOUs, I could cover it out of my winnings and st'ill show a profit.

You see, Grunk was right. I had been winning steadily all night ... a fact

made doubly surprising by my ignorance of the game. Early on, however, I had

hit on a system which seemed to be working very well: Bet the players, not the

cards. On the last hand, I hadn't been betting that I had a winning hand, I

was betting that Grunk had a losing hand. Luck had been against him all night,

and he was betting wild to try to make up for his losses.

Following my system, I folded the next two hands, then hit them hard on the

third. Most of the other players folded rather than question my judgment.

Grunk stayed until the bitter end, hoping I was bluffing. It turned out that I

was (my hand wasn't all that strong), but that his hand was even weaker.

Another stack of chips tumbled into my hoard.

"That does it for me," Grunk said, pushing his remaining chips toward the

Geek. "Cash me in."

"Me too."

"I should have left an hour ago. Would have saved myself a couple hundred."

The Geek was suddenly busy converting chips back to cash as the game broke up.

Grunk loitered for a few minutes after receiving his share of the bank. Now

that we were no longer facing each other over cards, he was surprisingly

pleasant.

"You know, Skeeve," he said, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder, "it's

been a long time since I've been whipped that bad at dragon poker. Maybe Pidge

was right. You're slumming here. You should try for a game with the Kid."

"I was just lucky."

"No, I'm serious. If I knew how to get in touch with him, I'd set up the game

myself."

"You won't have to," one of the other players put in as he started for the

door. "Once word of this game gets around, the Kid will come looking for you."

"True enough," Grunk laughed over his shoulder. "Really, Skeeve. If that

match-up happens, be sure to pass the word to me. That's a game I'd like to

see."

"Sure, Grunk," I said. "You'll be one of the first to know. Catch you later."

Actually, my mind was racing as I made my goodbyes. This was getting out of

hand. I had figured on one madcap night on my own, then calling it quits

without anyone else the wiser. If the other players started shooting their

mouths off all over the Bazaar, there would be no hope of keeping my evening's

adventure a secret... particularly from Aahz! The only thing that would be

worse would be if I ended up with some hotshot gambler hunting me down for a

challenge match.

"Say, Geek," I said, trying to make it sound casual. "Who is this 'Kid' they

keep talking about?"

The Deveel almost lost his grip on the stack of chips he was counting. He gave

me a long stare, then shrugged.

"You know, Skeeve, sometimes I don't know when you're kidding me and when

you're serious. I keep forgetting that as successful as you are, you're still

new to the Bazaar... and to gambling specifically."

"Terrific. Who's the 'Kid'?"

"The Kid's the current king of the dragon poker circuit. His trademark is that

he always includes a breath mint with his opening bet for each hand .. . says

that it brings him luck. That's why they call him the 'Sen-Sen Ante Kid.' I'd

advise you to stay away from him, though. You had a good run tonight, but the

Kid is the best there is. He'd eat you alive in a head-to-head game."

"I hear that." I laughed. "I was only curious. Really. Just cash me in and I

'11 be on my way.''

The Geek gestured at the stacks of coins on the table.

"What's to cash?" he said. "I pulled mine out the same time I cashed the

others' out. The rest is yours."

I looked at the money and swallowed hard. For the first time I could

understand why some people found gambling so addictive. There was easily

twenty thousand in gold weighing down the table. All mine. From one night of

cards!

"Urn . . . Geek? Could you hold on to my winnings for me? I'm not wild about

the idea of walking around with that much gold on me. I can drop back by later

with my bodyguards to pick it up."

"Suit yourself," the Geek shrugged. "I can't think of anyone at the Bazaar who

would have nerve enough to jump you, with your reputation. Still, you might

run into a stranger...."

"Fine," I said, heading for the door. "Then I'll be..."

"Wait a minute! Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What's that?"

"Pidge's marker. Hang on and I'll get it."

He disappeared before I could protest, so I leaned against the wall to wait. I

had forgotten about the marker, but the Geek was a gambler and adhered more

religiously to the unwritten laws of gambling than most folks obeyed civil

law. I'd just have to humor him and...

"Here's the marker, Skeeve," the Deveel announced. "Markie this is Skeeve."

I just gaped at him, unable to speak. Actually, I gaped at the little blond-

headed moppet he was leading by the hand. That's right. A girl. Nine or ten

years old at the most.

I experienced an all-too-familiar sinking feeling in my stomach that meant I

was in trouble... lots of it.

Chapter Two:

"Kids? Who said anything about kids?"

-CONAN

THE little girl looked at me through eyes that glowed with trust and love. She

barely stood taller than my waist and had that wholesome, healthy glow that

young girls are all supposed to have but so few actually do. With her little

beret and matching jumper, she looked so much like an oversized doll that I

wondered if she'd say "Mama" if you turned her upside down, then right-side up

again.

She was so adorable that it was obvious that anyone with a drop of paternal

instinct would fall in love with her on sight. Fortunately, my partner had

trained me well; any instincts I had were of a more monetary nature.

"What's that?" I demanded.

"It's a little girl," the Geek responded. "Haven't you ever seen one before?"

For a minute, I thought I was being baited. Then I remembered some of my

earliest conversations with Aahz and controlled my temper.

"I realize that it's a little girl, Geek," I said carefully. "What I was

really trying to ask is a) who is she? b) what is she doing here? and c) what

has this got to do with Pidge's marker? Do I make myself clear?"

The Deveel blinked his eyes in bewilderment.

"But I just told you. Her name is Markie. She's Pidge's marker . . . you know,

the one you said you would cover personally?"

My stomach bottomed out.

"Geek, we were talking about a piece of paper. You know, 'IOU, etc.'? A

marker! Who leaves a little girl for a marker?"

"Pidge does. Always has. C'mon, Skeeve. You know me. Would I give anyone

credit for a piece of paper? I give Pidge credit on Markie here because I know

he'll be back to reclaim her."

"Right. You give him credit. I don't deal in little girls. Geek."

"You do now," he smiled. "Everyone at the table heard you say so. I'll admit I

was a little surprised at the time."

"... But not surprised enough to warn me about what I was buying into. Thanks

a lot, Geek old pal. I'll try to remember to return the favor someday."

In case you didn't notice, that last part was an open threat. As has been

noted, I've been getting quite a reputation around the Bazaar as a magician,

and I didn't really think the Geek wanted to be on my bad side.

Okay. So it was a rotten trick. I was getting desperate.

"Whoa. Hold it," the Deveel said quickly. "No reason to get upset. If you

don't want her, I'll give you cash to cover the marker and keep her myself..."

"That's better."

"... at the usual terms, of course."

I knew I was being suckered. Knew it, mind you. But I had to ask anyway.

"What terms?"

"If Pidge doesn't reclaim her in two weeks, I sell her into slavery for enough

money to cover her father's losses."

Check and mate.

I looked at Markie. She was still holding the Geek's hand, listening solemnly

while we argued out her fate. As our eyes met, she said her first words since

she had entered the room.

"Are you going to be my new daddy?"

I swallowed hard.

"No, I'm not your daddy, Markie. I just..."

"Oh, I know. It's just that every time my real daddy leaves me with someone,

he tells me that they're going to be my pretend daddy for a while. I'm

supposed to mind them and do what they tell me just as if they were my real

daddy until my real daddy comes to get me. I just wanted to know if you were

going to be my new pretend daddy?"

"Ummm..."

"I hope so. You're nice. Not like some of the scumbags he's left me with. Will

you be my new daddy?"

With that, she reached out and took hold of my hand. A small thrill ran

through me like an autumn shiver. She was so vulnerable, so trusting. I had

been on my own for a long time, first alone, then apprenticed to Garkin, and

finally teamed with Aahz. In all that time, I had never really been

responsible for another person. It was a funny feeling, scary and warming at

the same time.

I tore my eyes away from her and glared at the Geek again.

"Slavery's outlawed here at the Bazaar."

The Deveel shrugged. "There are other dimensions. As a matter of fact, I've

had a standing offer for her for several years. That's why I've been willing

to accept her as collateral. I could make enough to cover the bet, the cost of

the food she's eaten over the years, and still turn a tidy pro fit."

"That's about the lowest..."

"Hey! The name's 'the Geek,' not 'the Red Cross'! I don't do charity. Folks

come to me to bet, not for handouts."

I haven't thrown a punch at anyone since I started practicing magic, but I was

sorely tempted to break that record just this one. Instead, I turned to the

little girl.

"Get your things, Markie. Daddy's taking you to your new home."

My partner and I were currently basing our operations at the Bazaar at Deva,

which is the home dimension of the Deveels. Deevels are reputed to be the

sharpest merchants, traders, and hagglers in all the known dimensions. You may

have heard of them in various folk tales in your own home dimension. Their

fame lingers even in dimensions they have long since stopped trading in.

The Bazaar is the showcase of Deva ... in fact, I've never seen a part of Deva

that wasn't the Bazaar. Here the Deveels meet to trade with each other, buying

and selling the choicest magics and miracles from all the dimensions. It's an

around-the-clock, over-the-horizon sprawl of tents, shops, and barter blankets

where you can acquire anything your imagination can conjure as well as a lot

of things you never dreamed existed ... for a price. Many inventors and

religious figures have built their entire career from items purchased in one

trip to the bazaar. Needless to say, it is devastating to the average

budget... even if the holder of the purse-strings has above-average sales

resistance.

Normally I enjoy strolling through the booths, but tonight, with Markie beside

me, I was too distracted to concentrate on the displays. It occurred to me

that, fun as it is for adults, the Bazaar is no place to raise a child.

"Will we be living by ourselves, or do you have a girlfriend?"

Markie was clinging to my hand as we made our way through the Bazaar. The

wonders of the stalls and shops dispensing magic reached out to us as they

always do, but she was oblivious to them, choosing instead to ply me with

questions and hanging on my every word.

" 'No's to both questions. Tananda lives with me, but she isn't my girlfriend.

She's a free-lance assassin who helps me out on jobs from time to time. Then

there's Chumley, her brother. He's a troll who works under the name of Crunch.

You'll like them. They're nice... in a lot of ways they're nicer than I am."

Markie bit her lip and frowned. "I hope you're right. I've found that a lot of

nice people don't like little kids."

"Don't worry," I said, with more confidence than I felt. "But I'm not done

yet. There's also Guido and Nunzio, my bodyguards. They may seem a little

gruff, but don't let them scare you. They just act tough because it's part of

their job."

"Gee. I've never had a daddy who had bodyguards before."

"That's not all. We also have Buttercup, who's a war unicorn, and Gleep, who's

my very own pet dragon."

"Oh, lots of people have dragons. I'm more impressed by the bodyguards."

That took me aback a little. I'd always thought that having a dragon was

rather unique. I mean, nobody else I knew had a dragon. Then again, nobody

else I knew had bodyguards, either.

"Let's see," Markie was saying. "There's Tananda, Chumley. Guido, Nunzio,

Buttercup, and Gleep. Is that all?"

"Well, there's also Massha. She's my apprentice."

"Massha. That's a pretty name."

Now, there are lots of words to describe my apprentice, but unfortunately

'pretty' isn't one of them. Massha is huge, both in height and breadth. There

are large people who still manage to look attractive, but my apprentice isn't

one of them. She tends toward loud, colorful clothes which invariably clash

with her bright orange hair, and wears enough jewelry for three stores. In

fact, the last time she got into a fight here at the Bazaar was when a

nearsighted shopper mistook her for a display tent.

"Aahh . . . you'll just have to meet her. But you're right. Massha is a pretty

name."

"Gee, you've got a lot of people living with you."

"Well... umm ... there is one more."

"Who's that?"

"His name is Aahz. He's my partner."

"Is he nice, too?"

I was torn between loyalty and honesty.

"He . . . aah . . . takes getting used to. Remember how I told you not to be

scared of the bodyguards even if they were a little gruff?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's all right to be scared of Aahz. He gets a little upset from time

to time, and until he cools down it's best to give him a lot of room and not

leave anything breakable-like your arm-within his reach."

"What gets him upset?"

"Oh, the weather, losing money, not making money . . . which to him is the

same as losing money, any one of a hundred things that I say ... and you! I'm

afraid he's going to be a little upset when he meets you. so stay behind me

until I get him calmed down. Okay?"

"Why would he be upset with me?"

"You're going to be a surprise to him, and he doesn't like surprises. You see,

he's a very suspicious person and tends to think of a surprise as a part of an

unknown plot against him ... or me."

Markie lapsed into silence. Her blow furrowed as she stared off into

nothingness, and it occurred to me that I was scaring her.

"Hey, don't worry," I said, squeezing her hand. "Aahz will be okay once he

gets over being surprised. Now tell me about yourself. Do you go to school?"

"Yes. I'm halfway through Elemental School. I'd be further if we didn't keep

moving around."

"Don't you mean Elementary School?" I smiled.

"No. I mean..."

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ThisAcebookcontainsthecompletetextoftheoriginaledition.Ithasbeencompletelyresetinatypefacedesignedforeasyreading,andwasprintedfromnewfilm.LITTLEMYTHMARKERAnAceBook/publishedbyarrangementwithStarblazeEditionsoftheDonningCompany/PublishersPRINTINGHISTORYDonningeditionpublished1985Aceedition/July1987Al...

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Robert Asprin - Myth 06 - Little Myth Marker

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