Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

“I resent the implications of that. Pervert!” Frumple exclaimed. “If you want any help, you’d better. . . .” Aahz’s knife flashed through the air and thunked into the wall scant inches from the Deveel’s head.

“Shut up and listen, Frumple!” he snarled. “And that’s Pervect!”

“What’s in a name, Aahz?” I asked innocently.

“Shut up, kid. Okay, Frumple, does the name Isstvan mean anything to you?”

“No. Should it?”

“It should if you want to stay alive. He’s a madman magician who’s trying to take over the dimensions, starting with this one.”

“Why should that concern me?” Frumple frowned. “We Deveels trade with anyone who can pay the price. We don’t concern ourselves with analyzing politics or mental stability. If we only dealt with sane beings, it would cut our business by a third … maybe more.”

“Well, you’d better concern yourself this time. Maybe you didn’t hear me. Isstvan is starting with this dimension. He’s out to get a monopoly on Klah’s energies to use on other dimensions. To do that, he’s out to kill anyone else in this dimension who knows how to tap those energies. He’s not big on sharing.”

“Hmmm. Interesting theory, but where’s the proof -I mean, who’s he supposed to have killed?”

“Garkin, for one,” I said, dryly.

“That’s right,” Aahz snarled. “You’re so eager to know why the two of us are traveling together. Well, Skeeve here was Garkin’s apprentice until Isstvan sent his assassins to wipe out the competition.”

“Assassins?”

“That’s right. You saw two of them, those Imps you teleported about a week back.” Aahz flourished the assassin’s cloak we had acquired. “Where did you think we got this? In a rummage sale?”