“The Bazaar?” I prompted.
“No one can travel extensively in all the dimensions in one lifetime. The Bazaar on Deva is the place the Deveels meet to trade with each other. An off-dimension visitor there will be sore pressed to not lose o’er much, much less hold his own. It’s said if you make a deal with a Deveel, you’d be wise to count your fingers afterward . . . then your arms and legs, then your relatives….”
“I get the picture. Now how about the Imps?”
“The Imps.” Aahz said the word as if it tasted bad. “The Imps are inferior to the Deveels in every way.”
“How so?”
“They’re cheap imitations. Their dimension, Imper, lies close to Deva, and the Deveels bargain with them so often they’re almost bankrupt from the irresistible ‘fair deals.’ To hold their own, they’ve taken to aping the Deveels, attempting to peddle wonders through the dimensions. To the uneducated, they may seem clever and powerful; in fact, occasionally they try to pass themselves off as Deveels. Compared to the masters, however, they’re bungling incompetents.”
He trailed off into silence. I pondered his words, and they prompted another question.
“Say, Aahz?”
“Hmm? Yeah, kid?”
“What dimension do you come from?”
“Perv.”
“Does that make you a Pervert?”
“No. That makes me a Pervect. Now shut up!”
I assumed he wanted me to go to sleep, and maintained silence for several minutes. There was just one more question I had to ask, however, if I was going to get any sleep at all.
“Aahz?”
“Keep it down, kid.”
“What dimension is this?”
“Hmmm? This is Klah, kid. Now for the last time, shut up.”