Little Myth Marker By Robert Asprin

“I didn’t win her,” I said hastily. “I won her father’s marker. She’s our guarantee that he’ll come back and make his losses good.”

Aahz stopped making with the fists, and a puzzled frown creased his features.

“A marker? I don’t get it. The Geek’s games are always on a cash-and-carry basis.”

“Well, he seems to have made an exception in Pidge’s case.”

“Pidge?”

“That’s my daddy,” Markie announced, stepping from behind me again. “It’s short for Pigeon. He loses a lot… that’s why everyone is always so happy to let him sit in on a game.”

“Cute kid,” Aahz said dryly. “It also might explain why you did so well in the game tonight. One screwball can change the pace of an entire game. Still, when the Geek does take markers, he usually pays the winners in cash and handles the collecting himself.”

“He was willing to do that.”

“Then why…”

“… and if Markie’s father didn’t show up in two weeks, he was going to take her off-dimension and sell her into slavery himself to raise the money.”

From her chair. Massha gave a low whistle.

“Sweet guy, this Geek.”

“He’s a Deveel.” Aahz waved absently, as if the statement explained everything. “Okay, okay. I can see where you felt you had to accept custody of the kid here instead of leaving her with the Geek. Just answer me one question.”

“What’s that?”

“What do we do with her if her father doesn’t show up?”

Sometimes I like it better when Aahz is ranting than when he’s thinking.

“Aahh … I’m still working on that one.”

“Terrific. Well, when you come up with an answer, let me know. I think I’ll stay in my room until this whole thing blows over.”