Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

The others were not so amused.

“So you’re a demon hunter, eh?” Frumple snarled. “What’s your gripe anyway?”

“The offenses of demons are too numerous to list,” Quigley retorted haughtily.

“We aren’t going anywhere for a while,” Brockhurst chimed in from the stairs. “And neither are you. List us a few of these offenses.”

“Well…” began Quigley, “you stole my magik pendant and my magik sword….”

“We don’t know anything about a magik pendant.” Higgens bristled. “And we gave your so-called magik sword to….”

“What else do demons do?” Frumple interrupted, apparently none too eager to have the discussion turn to swords.

“Well. .. you bewitched my war unicorn into thinking he’s a dragon!” Quigley challenged.

“Your war unicorn is currently tethered in the stable,” Higgens stated flatly. “Frumple brought him in.”

“My unicorn is tethered outside the door!” Quigley insisted. “And he thinks he’s a dragon!”

“Your unicorn is tethered in the stable,” Higgens barked back. “And we think you’re a fruitcake!”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Isstvan managed to hold up his hands despite his laughter. “All this is quite amusing, but… well, will you look at that!”

This last was said in such a tone of wonder that the attention of everyone in the room was immediately drawn to the spot he was looking at.

Suspended in midair, not two hand-spans from Isstvan’s head, was a small red dart with gold and black fletchings.

“An assassin’s dart!” Isstvan marveled, gently plucking the missile from where it was hovering. “Now who would be naughty enough to try to poison me from behind?”