“Are these the quarters of General Badaxe?” I inquired politely.
“Are you the magician called Skeeve?” the guard challenged back.
“The kid asked you a question, soldier!” Aahz interceded. “Now are you going to answer or are you so dumb you don’t know what’s on the other side of the door you’re guarding?”
The guard flushed bright red, and I noticed his partner’s knuckles whitening on the pike he was gripping. It occurred to me that now that I had landed the magician’s job, it might not be the wisest course to continue antagonizing the military.
“Um, Aahz …” I murmured.
“Yes! These are the quarters of General Badaxe … sir!” the guard barked suddenly.
Apparently the mention of my colleague’s name had confirmed my identity, though I wondered how many strangers could be wandering the halls accompanied by large scaly demons. The final, painful, “sir” was a tribute to my performance in the courtyard. Apparently the guards had been instructed to be polite, at least to me, no matter how much it hurt .. . which it obviously did.
“Thank you, guard,” I said loftily, and hammered on the door with my fist.
“Further,” the guard observed, “the general left word that you were to go right in.”
The fact that he had withheld that bit of information until after I had knocked indicated that the guards hadn’t completely abandoned their low regard for magicians. They were simply finding more subtle ways of being annoying.
I realized Aahz was getting ready to start a new round with the guard, so I hastily opened the door and entered, forcing him to follow.