Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

I considered her first gesture again. She appeared to be stabbing herself in the forehead. Something had hit her in the stables? She had killed something in the stables?

I shook my head again. She bared her teeth at me in frustration.

“Innkeep!”

I jumped a foot at the bellow.

Aahz and Quigley had just walked through the door. Whatever Tanda was trying to tell me would just have to wait. Our attack had begun.

“Two flagons of your best wine . . . and send someone to see to my unicorn.”

Aahz was doing all the talking, of course. It had been agreed that he would take the lead in the conversation. Quigley hadn’t been too happy about that, but in the end had consented to speaking only when absolutely necessary.

Their entrance had had surprisingly little impact on the assemblage below. In fact, Isstvan was the only one to even look in their direction.

“Come in. Come in, gentlemen,” he smiled, spreading his arms wide in welcome. “We’ve been expecting you!”

“You have?” blurted Quigley, echoing my thoughts.

“Of course, of course. You shouldn’t try to fool old Isstvan.” He shook a finger at them in mock sternness. “Word was just brought to us by … oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced you to my new purchasing agent yet.”

“We’ve met,” came the voice of the hunched figure as he turned to face them.

Frumple!

That’s what Tanda had been trying to tell me! The war unicorn, Quigley’s unicorn, was down in the stable. For all our speed, Frumple had gotten here ahead of us.

“Who are you?” asked Quigley, peering at the Deveel.