Myth conceptions by Robert Asprin

“What’s a singles bar?” I interrupted.

“Shut up, kid,” Aahz snarled.

“Well, it wasn’t actually a singles bar,” Tanda corrected. “It was more of a tavern. I should have known he was married. I mean, nobody that young is that bald unless he’s got a wife at home.”

“Skip the philosophy,” Aahz moaned. “Just tell us the story, huh?”

Tanda cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You know, Aahz,” she accused, “for someone as long-winded as you are when it comes to telling stories, you’re awfully impatient when it comes to listening to someone else.”

“She’s right, you know,” I commented.

“Enough!” Aahz bellowed. “The story!”

“Well, one of the things Grimble mentioned while he was trying to impress me with how important his job was, was that he was trying to find a court magician. He said he had convinced the king to hire one, but now he couldn’t find one and was going to end up looking like an idiot.”

“And when he mentioned idiots,” I supplied, “naturally you thought of us.”

“Now, don’t be that way,” Tanda scolded. “I thought it was a good way to help out a couple of friends. I knew you two were hanging out in this neck of the woods . . . and everybody knows what a cushy job being a court magician is.”

“What did I tell you, kid,” Aahz commented.

“We must be talking about different jobs,” I retorted.

“Hey,” Tanda interrupted, laying a soft hand on my arm. “When I gave him your names, I didn’t know about the invading army. Honest!”

My anger melted away at her touch. Right then, she could have told me she had sold my head as a centerpiece and I would have forgiven her.