Little Myth Marker By Robert Asprin

“I just hope your magic isn’t as good as your reputation.”

“That’s funny, I was just hoping your luck is as bad as your jokes.”

I didn’t mean to be offensive. The words just kind of slipped out before I could stop them.

The Kid’s face froze.

I wished someone else would say something to change the subject, but the room echoed with deathly quiet.

Suddenly, my opponent threw his head back and laughed heartily. “I like that!” he declared. “You know, no one else has ever had the nerve to tell me my jokes stink. I’m starting to see where you had the guts to accept my little challenge.”

The room came to life, everybody talking or laughing at the same time. I felt like I had just passed some kind of initiation ritual. A wave of relief broke over me … but it was tinged with something else. I found myself liking the Kid. Young or not, he was definitely not the boogey-man I had been expecting.

“Thanks, Kid,” I said quietly, taking advantage of the cover noise. “I must admit, I appreciate someone else who can laugh at themselves. I have to do it so often myself.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he murmured back, glancing around to be sure no one else was listening in. “If you let it, all this stuff can go to your head. Say, would you like a drink or something before we get started?”

“That confident I’m not,” I laughed. “I want to have a clear head when we square off.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

Before I could say anything else, he turned to the crowd and raised his voice again. “Can you keep it down?” he roared. “We’re ready to play cards up here!”