“Hmm….” the Deveel said at last. “Yes, I think we can say that your powers are definitely gone.”
“Terrific!” Aahz growled. “Look, Frumple. We didn’t come all this way to be told something we already knew. You Deveels are supposed to be able to do anything. Well, do something!”
“It’s not that easy. Pervert!” Frumple snapped back. “I need information. How did you lose your powers, anyway?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Aahz admitted. “I was summoned to Klah by a magician and when I arrived they were gone.”
“A magician? Which one?”
“Garkin.”
“Garkin? He’s a mean one to cross. Why don’t you just get him to restore your powers instead of getting me involved?”
“Because he’s dead. Is that reason enough for you?”
“Hmm … that makes it difficult.”
“Are you saying you can’t do anything?” Aahz sneered. “I should have known. I always thought the reputation of the Deveels was overrated.”
“Look, Pervert! Do you want my help or not? I didn’t say I couldn’t do anything, just that it would be difficult.”
“That’s more like it,” Aahz chortled. “Let’s get started.”
“Not so fast,” interrupted Frumple. “I didn’t say I would help you, just that I could.”
“I see,” sneered Aahz. “Here it comes, kid. The price tag. I told you they were shake-down artists.”
“Actually,” the Deveel said dryly, “I was thinking of the time factor. It would take a while for me to make my preparations, and I believe I’ve made my feelings quite clear about you staying here longer than is absolutely necessary.”
“In that case,” smiled Aahz, “I suggest you get started. I believe I’ve made my feelings quite clear that we intend to stay here until the cure is effected.”