Free Myth-Ing Persons by Robert Asprin

flashing one of her less pleasant smiles.
    "If it isn't the little bird who sang to the vampires," Guido leered, matching my apprentice's threatening tone.
    The girl favored them with a withering glance, then faced me again.
    "I was hoping we could talk alone. I've got a lot to say and not much time to say it. It would go faster if we weren't interrupted."
    "Not a chance, Sweetheart," Guido snarled. "I'm not goin' to let the Boss out of my sight with you around."
    "… besides which, I've got a few things to tell you myself," Massha added, "like what I think of folks who think frames look better on people than on paintings."
    The girl's eyes never left mine. For all her bravado, I thought I could detect in their depths an appeal for help.
    "Please," she said softly.
    I fought a brief skirmish in my mind, and, as usual, common sense lost.
    "All right."
    "WHAT! C'mon, Boss. You can't let her get you alone! If her pals are around…"
    "Hot Stuff, if I have to sit on you. you aren't going to…"
    "Look!" I said, wrenching my eyes away from the girl to confront my mutinous staff. "We'll only go a few steps down the road there, in plain sight. If anything happens you'll be able to pitch in before it gets serious."
    "But…"
    "… and you certainly can't think she's going to jump me. I mean, it's a cinch she isn't carrying any concealed weapons."
    That was a fact. She had changed outfits since the last time I saw her, probably to fit in more with the exotic garb favored by the party-loving vampires. She was wearing what I've heard referred to as a "tank top" which left her midsection and navel delightfully exposed, and the open-sided skirt (if you can call two flaps of cloth that) showed her legs up past her hips. If she had a weapon with her, she had swallowed it. Either that, or…
    I dragged my thoughts back to the argument.
    "The fact of the matter is that she isn't going to talk in front of a crowd. Now, am I going to get a chance to hear another viewpoint about what's going on, or are we going to keep groping around for information with Aahz's life hanging in the balance?"
    My staff fell silent and exchanged glances, each waiting for the other to risk the next blast.
    "Well, okay," Massha agreed at last. "But watch yourself, Hot Stuff. Remember, poison can come in pretty bottles."
    So, under the ever-watchful glares of my assistants, I retired a few steps down the road for my first words alone with…
    "Say, what is your name, anyway?"
    "Hmmm? Oh. I'm Luanna. Say, thanks for backing me up. That's a pretty mean-looking crew you hang around with. I had heard you had a following, but I hadn't realized how nasty they were."
    "Oh, they're okay once you get to know them. If you worked with them on a day-to-day basis, you'd find out that they… heck, none of us are really as dangerous or effective as the publicity hype cuts us out to be."
    I was suddenly aware of her eyes on me. Her expression was strange… sort of a bitter half-smile.
    "I've always heard that really powerful people tended to understate what they can do, that they don't have to brag. I never really believed it until now."
    I really didn't know what to say to that. I mean, my reputation had gotten big enough that I was starting to get used to being recognized and talked about at the Bazaar, but what she was displaying was neither fear nor envy. Among my own set of friends, admiration or praise was always carefully hidden within our own brand of rough humor or teasing. Faced with the undiluted form of the same thing, I was at a loss as to how to respond. "Ummm, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
    Her expression fell and she dropped her eyes.
    "This is so embarrassing. Please be patient with me, Skeeve… is it all right if I call you Skeeve? I haven't had much experience with saying 'I'm sorry'… heck, I haven't had much experience with people at all. Just partners and pigeons. Now that I'm here, I really don't know what to say."
    "Why don't we start at the