The desk clerk whisked the form from under my pen and glanced at it almost before I had finished signing it. “Quite right, Mr. . . Skeeve. I’ll have a receipt for you in a moment.”
It was nice to know some Pervects were efficient, once you had met their price. The hundred in gold had already disappeared.
The desk clerk slipped the receipt across the desk, a key held daintily in his other hand. I claimed the receipt and was starting to go for the key when he casually moved it back out of my reach, slapping his palm down on a small bell that was on the desk.
“Front!”
Before I could ask what this little declaration was supposed to mean, a bellhop had materialized at my side . . . a different one than before.
“Room 242,” the desk clerk declared, handing the bell hop my key.
“Yessir. Is this your luggage?”
“Well, yes. It’s . . .”
Without waiting for me to finish, the bellhop snatched up my bag and started for the stairs, beckoning me to follow. I trailed along in his wake. At this point, I had had it with Pervects and hotels and tips. If this clown thought I was . . .
“Going to tip him?” Kalvin asked, floating around to hang in the air in front of me. Fortunately, he was translucent enough for me to see through him.
I gave him my toothiest smile.
“If that means ‘No’ like I think it does, you’d better reconsider.”
Whether I needed to hear this or not, I definitely didn’t want to. I deliberately let my gaze wander to the ceiling and promptly tripped over a step.
“Remember what Edvik said,” the Djin continued insis tently. “You need all the allies you can get. You can’t afford to get vindictive with this guy.”