MA06 Little Myth Marker by Robert Asprin

in astonishment.
    The booth that Bunny was in was in tatters. The entire stock of the place was sailing off over the Bazaar, as was what was left of the tent. Bunny was trying to cover herself with her hands and screaming her head off. The proprietor, a particularly greasy-looking Deveel, was also screaming his head off, but his emotions were being vented in our general direction instead of at the world in general.
    I would say it was a major dilemma except for one thing. The displays on either side of Bunny’s tent and for two rows behind it were in a similar state. That is a major dilemma, making the destruction of a single booth pale in comparison.
    A voice sprang into my head, drowning out the clamor of the enraged merchants. “If you break it, you bought it!” the voice said, and it spoke with a Devan accent.
    “What happened?” I gasped, though whether to myself or to the gods, I wasn’t sure.
    Massha answered.
    “What happened was Markie!” she said grimly. “She blew her cork and summoned up an air elemental ... you know, like you learn to do at Elemental School? It appears that when the kid throws a tantrum, she’s going to do it with magic!”
    My mind grasped the meaning of her words instantly, just as fast as it leaped on to the next plateau. Aahz! I wasn’t sure which was going to be worse: breaking the news to Aahz, or telling him how much it had cost us to learn about it!

I’VE HEARD THAT when some people get depressed, they retire to their neighborhood bar and tell their troubles to a sympathetic bartender. The problem with the Bazaar at Deva (a problem I had never noticed before) is that there are no sympathetic bartenders!
    Consequently, I had to settle for the next best thing and holed up in the Yellow Crescent Inn.
    Now, a fast-food joint may seem to you to be a poor substitute for a bar. It is. This particular fast-food joint, however, is owned and managed by my only friend at the Bazaar who isn’t living with me. This last part was especially important at the moment, since I didn’t think I was apt to get much sympathy in my own home.
    Gus is a gargoyle, but despite his fierce appearance he’s one of the friendliest beings I’ve ever met. He’s helped Aahz and me out on some of our more dubious assignments, so he’s less inclined to ask “How did you get yourself into this?” than most. Usually, he’s more interested in “How do you get out of it?”
    “How did you get yourself into this one?” he said, shaking his head.
    Well, nobody’s perfect ... especially friends.
    “I told you, Gus. One lousy card game where I expected to lose. If I had known it was going to backfire like this, so help me I would have folded every hand!”
    “You see, there’s your problem,” the gargoyle said, flashing a grin toothier than normal. “Instead of sitting in and losing, you’d be better off not sitting in at all!”
    I rewarded his sound advice by rolling my eyes.
    “It’s all hypothetical anyway. What’s done is done. The question is, ‘What do I do now?”
    “Not so fast. Let’s stick with the card game for a minute. Why did you sit in if you were expecting to lose?”
    “Look. Can we drop the card game? I was wrong. Okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
    “No-o-o,” Gus said slowly. “I still want to hear why you went in the first place. Humor me.”
    I stared at him for a moment, but he seemed perfectly serious.
    I shrugged. “The Geek sent me an invitation. Frankly, it was quite flattering to get one. I just thought it would be sociable to...”
    “Stop!” the gargoyle interrupted, raising his hand. “There’s your problem.”
    “What is?”
    “Trying to be sociable. What’s the matter? Aren’t your current round of friends good enough for you?”
    That made me a little bit nervous. I was having enough problems without having Gus get his nose out of joint.
    “It isn’t that, Gus. Really. The whole crew—yourself included—is closer to me than my family ever