Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

As Aahz was speaking, Brockhurst casually leaned back out of his line of vision and silently mouthed the word “Pervert” at Higgens. Higgens quietly nodded his agreement, and they both shot me sympathetic glances.

“Well, what do you think?” Aahz asked in conclusion.

“Hmm . . . what do we do with him?” Higgens indicated the Quigley statue with a jerk of his head.

“We’ll take him with us,” I chimed in hastily.

“Of course!” agreed Aahz, shooting me a black look. “If you two took him back to Isstvan, he might guess you suspected his treachery.”

“Besides,” I added, “maybe we can revive him and convince him to join us in our battle.”

“I suppose you’ll be wanting the antidote then.” Higgens sighed, fishing a small vial from inside his cloak and tossing it to me. “Just sprinkle a little on him and he’ll return to normal in a few minutes. Watch yourself, though. There’s something strange about him. He seemed to be able to see right through our disguises.”

“Where’s the sword you were talking about?” Aahz asked.

“It’s in his pack. Believe me, it’s junk. The only reason we brought it along was that he seemed to put so much stock in it. It’ll be curious to find out what he thought it was when we revive him.”

“Well, I believe that just about covers everything,” Brockhurst sighed. “I suggest we get some sleep and start on our respective journeys first thing in the morning.”

“I suggest you start on your journey now,” Aahz said pointedly.

“Now?” Brockhurst exclaimed.

“But it’s the middle of the night,” Higgens pointed out.