“Well . . . they didn’t exactly talk, but they did huddle up and put their heads together and made mumbly puffy noises at each other. Wouldn’t let this guy near ’em until it was over. The only thing he’s sure of is the little one, the one he says messed up his business, said something like ‘Peep!’ Said it a couple of times.”
“Peep?” I said.
“Gleep!” answered my dragon.
Shai-ster stared at him again.
“C’mon, Shai-ster,” Guido said, giving his superior a hearty shove. “Talking dragons? Somebody’s pullin’ your leg. Sounds to me like he got a bad shipment of dragons and is trying to get us to pay for them. Tell him to take a hike.”
“It’s not that easy,” Shai-ster grumbled, “but I suppose you’re right. I mean, all dragons look pretty much alike.”
“True enough,” I called, heading hastily for the nearest exit. “C’mon, Peep … I mean, Gleep!”
Maybe Shai-ster’s suspicions had been lulled, but I still had a few of my own as we made our way back to the Yellow Crescent Inn.
“Level with me, Gleep. Did you do anything to louse up somebody’s dragon business?”
“Gleep?” answered my pet in a tone exactly like my own when I’m trying too hard to sound innocent.
“Uh-huh. Well, stay out of this one. I think we’ve got it in hand without you getting in the line of fire.”
“Gleep.”
The answer was much more subdued this time, and I realized he was drooping noticeably.
“Now don’t sulk. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. That’s all.”
I was suddenly aware that passers-by were staring at us. As strange as the Bazaar was, I guess they weren’t used to seeing someone walking down the street arguing with a dragon.