Little Myth Marker By Robert Asprin

The whole room was staring at me as I lurched to a halt.

“You know, Skeeve old boy,” Chumley said, clearing his throat, “As much as I like you, some times it’s difficult to remember just how intelligent you are.”

“I’ll say,” Tananda snarled. “That’s about the dumbest. . . Wait a minute! Does this have anything to do with my leaving?”

“A bit,” I admitted. “And Massha leaving and Aahz’s talking about responsibility, and …”

“Stop right there!” Aahz ordered, holding up his hand. “Let’s talk about responsibility, partner. It’s funny that I should have to lecture you about this, but there are all sorts of responsibilities. One of the ones that I’ve learned about from you is the responsibility to one’s friends: helping them out when they’re in trouble, and letting them help you in return. I haven’t forgotten how you came into a strange dimension to bust me out of prison after I’d refused your help in the first place; or how you signed us on to play in the Big Game to bail Tananda out after she was caught thieving; or how you insisted that Don Bruce assign Guido and Nunzio here to you when they were in line for disciplinary action after botching their assignment for the Mob. I haven’t forgotten it, and I’ll bet they haven’t either, even if you have. Now, I suggest you shut up about job descriptions and let your friends help you … partner.”

“A-bloody-men.” Chumley nodded.

“You could have left me with the Geek for the slavers,” Markie said thoughtfully, in a surprisingly adult voice.

“So, now that that’s settled,” my partner said, rubbing his hands together, “let’s get to work. My buddy Guido here has raised a good point. How do we defend Skeeve when we don’t know how or when the Ax will strike?”