Killing the Queen would be one solution, but somehow I shrank from cold-blooded murder … or hotblooded murder for that matter. No. What was needed was something to throw a scare into her. A big scare.
The answer walked past me before I recognized it. Fortunately, it was moving slowly, so I turned and caught up with it in just a few steps.
Answers come in many shapes and sizes. This one was in the form of a Deveel with a small tray display hung by a strap around his neck.
“What you just said, was it true?”
The Deveel studied me.
“I said, ‘Rings. One size fits all. Once on, never off.’ “
“That’s right. Is it true?”
“Of course. Each of my rings are pre-spelled. Once you put it on, it self-adjusts so that it won’t come off, even if you want it to.”
“Great. I’ll take two.”
“. . . Because to lose a ring of such value would be tragedy indeed. Each one worth a king’s ransom….”
I rolled my eyes.
“Look,” I interrupted. “I know it’s a tradition of the Bazaar to bargain, but I’m in a hurry. How much for two? Bottom price.”
He thought for a moment and named a figure. My training came to the fore and I made a counteroffer one tenth of his.
“Hey! You said ‘no haggling,’ ” he protested. “Who do you think you are?”
Well, it was worth a try. According to Massha, I was getting a bit of a reputation at the Bazaar.
“I think I’m the Great Skeeve, since you asked.”
“. . . And the camel you rode in on,” the vendor sneered. “Everyone knows the Great Skeeve isn’t a Pervert.”
The disguise! I had forgotten about it completely.