Free Stalking the Dragon by Mike Resnick Page B

world,” said Jeeves. “Her eyes are—”
    â€œSave it,” said Madame Fatima. “All dragons look alike.”
    â€œI beg your pardon!” snapped Jeeves.
    She sighed. “How many eyes has it got?”
    â€œTwo.”
    â€œWings?”
    â€œTwo.”
    â€œLegs?”
    â€œFour.”
    â€œWell, there you have it,” she said. “You've seen one dragon, you've seen ’em all.” She turned to Mallory. “What exactly do you want me to do for you?”
    â€œSee if anyone's shown up with a dragon today, probably claiming that it's a familiar,” answered the detective.
    â€œTwenty bucks,” said Madame Fatima, holding her hand out.
    Mallory dug into his pocket, pulled out a pair of tens, and handed them to her.
    â€œI'll toss in the massage for five more,” she said.
    â€œJust the dragon.”
    She shrugged, then lit a pair of candles, closed her eyes, and began uttering a chant in a language Mallory couldn't identify. She spun around three times, stood rigid for a full minute, and finally opened her eyes.
    â€œWell?” asked Mallory.
    â€œThere are fifty-seven familiars appearing as dragons just within a mile of us,” she answered. “At least thirty of them are small enough to be the one you're after.”
    â€œHow many of them showed up today?”
    â€œIt doesn't work that way,” replied Madame Fatima. “A familiar can take any shape it desires. So it might well have been a banshee or a harpy yesterday and a dragon today.”
    â€œSo if you tell me that there are a dozen, or twenty, dragons that weren't here yesterday…”
    â€œâ€¦they may well have been here yesterday in different forms,” concluded Madame Fatima. “I suppose you'll have to check them out one by one.”
    â€œI haven't got time to track all of them down,” said Mallory. “Besides, this is just a hunch. Fluffy might not be in Greenwitch Village at all. I just thought passing her off as a familiar made sense.”
    â€œBring me a scale, and I'll pinpoint her whereabouts,” said Madame Fatima.
    â€œIf I could pick one of her scales off her, I'd know her whereabouts,” said Mallory.
    â€œWell, yes, there is that,” acknowledged Madame Fatima.
    â€œThanks for your time,” said Mallory, “but we'd better get back to work.”
    â€œLet me give you a tip,” said the witch.
    He looked at her questioningly.
    â€œTalk to Blind Boris.”
    â€œBlind Boris?”
    â€œThey call him the Wizard of Christopher Street. You can usually find him on the corner of Christopher and Remorse.”
    â€œThanks,” said Mallory.
    â€œLet me give you another tip.”
    â€œI'm all ears.”
    â€œStop betting on Flyaway if you want to stay out of the poorhouse.”
    As they were leaving, Jeeves stopped in front of a small gilt-framed photo on a counter and stared at it.
    â€œIs something wrong?” asked Madame Fatima.
    â€œNo,” said Jeeves. “There's just something very familiar about this fat ugly old lady. I was wondering where I've seen her before.”
    Madame Fatima picked up a cappuccino cup and hurled it at his head, barely missing him.
    â€œWhat was that for?” demanded Mallory.
    â€œI won't be insulted in my own establishment!” she snapped.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œ This ,” she said, gesturing up and down her lithe, sexy body, “is my business outfit. That ,” she continued, “is the real me!”
    â€œI'm sorry,” said Jeeves.
    â€œWell, you'd damned well better be!” she snapped, as her face and body began to broaden, wrinkle, and droop. “Now get out of here while I regain my self-control.”
    Mallory held the door open for Jeeves and Felina. As they left, he turned to Madame Fatima.
    â€œHe didn't mean any harm,” said the detective.
    â€œThey never do,” she replied, a