Masters of Fantasy Part 45

Kansas anymore, Toto."

"My name is Hecate, not Toto," said the broom. "And now we can be together forever and ever. Isn't it wonderful?"

Mallory looked across the room at Winnifred. "You know, I could really grow to hate that G.o.dd.a.m.ned

demon."

"What do you plan to do about . . . well, you know?"

"The broom?" he said. "Well, it's here and it's ours. We may as well put it to work."

"I don't do dishes or windows," said the broom.

"You're magic. You have powers. I was thinking of taking you on a case and seeing what you can do."

"You and me? Together? Stalking super-villains to their lairs? Breaking up international espionage

gangs?"

"We've got a lady goblin who thinks her husband is cheating on her," said Mallory. "I've got to follow him until I find out if she's right or wrong."

"How mundane!"

"They give you medals for tracking down super-villains," explained Mallory. "They give you money for

tracking down straying husbands. We're running a business."

"It makes no difference," said the broom after a moment's consideration. "As long as I can be with you . . . uh . . . can I call you darling?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Okay, sweetie," said the broom. "Let's go tracking unfaithful goblins."

Monday night-the first case: They had followed the goblin to the corner of l.u.s.t and Despair. Then it took a sharp turn down l.u.s.t Street.

"We've got the goods on him!" cried the broom excitedly. "He's going to patronize a brothel!"

The goblin turned at the sound of the broom's voice, peered into the darkness until it saw Mallory, and then took off like a bat out of h.e.l.l.

"Thanks a heap," muttered Mallory. * * *

Wednesday night-the second case: They stood in the shadows near the Kringleman Arms Hotel, watching one ersatz Santa Claus after another enter the place with a pot of money in hand.

"So how do you know which ones are legitimate and which are keeping the money themselves?" asked the broom in its normal speaking voice.

Three Santas instantly emerged from the lobby and began firing Sat.u.r.day Night Specials into the shadows. Mallory could almost feel the bullets whistle by as he raced around the corner and dove for safety behind a pair of trash cans.

"Whatever would I do without you?" said Mallory, checking to make sure he still possessed the requisite number of arms and legs. * * *

Sat.u.r.day night-the third case: An old man, his hair white and thinning, spa.r.s.e whiskers on his chin, his eyes hidden by a pair of

sungla.s.ses, walked down Broadway, beggar's cup in one hand, an ancient cane in the other.

Behind the shades, Mallory was concentrating his gaze on Creepy Conrad's Bizarre of the Exotic, where he was certain that Conrad was showing his client prints of some very revealing, if inartistic, photos prior to blackmailing him.

A woman stopped to toss a few coins into Mallory's cup. She inadvertently brushed against him as she walked by, and to keep in character he pretended to momentarily lose his balance. The woman instantly stopped and helped him regain his equilibrium.

"Take your hands off the man I love!" roared the broom.

Creepy Conrad looked out at the distraction, stared long and hard at Mallory, grinned as he finally recognized him, and quickly subst.i.tuted some photos of Ta.s.sle-Twirling Tessie Twinkle, the lizard girl who shed her skin four times a night at the Rialto Burlesque, for the blackmail shots.

* * * "Well?" asked Winnifred, looking up from her paperwork as Mallory shuffled into the office. "If I take that d.a.m.ned broom on two or three more cases, we'll be looking for a new line of work." "Where is Hecate now?" "Down at the corner, getting some coffee and a donut." "Why didn't she just-?" "She doesn't want me to know where her mouth is," interrupted Mallory. "Right now I'm more interested in locating her jugular."

"So what are we going to do?"

"I've been giving it some thought," said Mallory. "After all, we're detectives. Our job isn't necessarily

catching crooks or preventing crimes, it's solving problems . . . so I think it's time we solved our own."

"How?"

"I've got an idea, but I can't do it myself. That d.a.m.ned broom'll never let me out of its sight long

enough." He pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket and stared mournfully at it. "This was what I was going to bet on Flyaway the night Hecate showed up."

"What do you want me to do, John Justin?"

He tossed the roll to her. "Buy a gallon of glue, and a few bottles of glitter, and then go over to Morgan

the Gorgon's hardware store and . . ." * * *

"What's going on here?" demanded Hecate.

"Business as usual," said Mallory. "Why?"

"There's nothing usual about this!" said the broom.

"Oh, you mean these?" said Mallory, gesturing to twenty brand-new brooms lined up on the wall, each totally covered with gold and silver glitter.

"Yes, I mean these!" snapped the broom. "They weren't here before! What's going on, Mallory?"

"You were so helpful the last few nights that I decided we could use even more brooms," said Mallory.

"And as long as I'm going to be spending all my time with them, why not surround myself with beauty?"

"But . . . but-" sputtered Hecate.

Mallory picked up a broom at random. "Isn't this one gorgeous?" he said, stroking it lovingly. "I'll never be bored on a stakeout again."

"You ingrate!" screamed Hecate. "You heathen! You ungrateful swine! How dare you forsake me for another broom!"

"Another twenty brooms," Mallory corrected it pleasantly.

"And I would have married you!" said the broom. It began weeping copiously. "I'm going back to where I was appreciated. Maybe the Grundy didn't spend much time with me, but I was well-cared for and people stopped by to admire me every day and . . ." Its voice tailed off.

"You can stay here," said Mallory. "I promise to take you out of the broom closet at least twice a year, for exceptionally easy cases. And think of all the fun you can have hanging around with all these truly beautiful brooms. Who knows? Some of their elegance might rub off."

"My mother was right!" cried the broom. "Never trust a man!"

And then, with one final heart-wrenching sob, it vanished as quickly and completely as the Grundy ever had.

"Well, you got rid of it, John Justin," said Winnifred.

"I feel like s.h.i.t," said Mallory grimly. "Still, it had to be done."

"Don't feel bad," said Felina. "I certainly won't feel bad when I desert you under duress."

"Thanks," said Mallory ironically. "I take enormous comfort in that."

Felina smiled happily. "I knew you would."

"Remind me to check on the broom in a few months and make sure it's doing okay," said Mallory.

"I will, John Justin," said Winnifred.

"Good." He pulled out a tissue, blew his nose, and tossed it into the waste basket next to his desk.

"When did you buy that?"

"Buy what, John Justin?"

"The waste basket with the fancy trim," he said. "I don't remember seeing it before."

"I didn't buy any waste basket," said Winnifred.

The waste basket approached Mallory and rubbed gently against his leg.

"I think I'm in love with you," it said.

Web of Deception

A Bahzell story David Weber It was raining again. It seemed to do an awful lot of that on the Sothoii Wind Plain, Kaeritha thought. Especially in the spring. She leaned moodily against the deep-cut frame of a tower window and stared out across Hill Guard Castle's battlements at the raindrops' falling silver spears. The sky was the color of wet charcoal, swirled by gusty wind and lumpy with the weight of rain not yet fallen, and the temperature was decidedly on the cool side. Not that it wasn't immensely warmer than the bone-freezing winter she had just endured.

Thunder rumbled somewhere above the cloud ceiling, and she grimaced as a harder gust of wind drove a spray of rain in through the open window. She didn't step back, though. Instead, she inhaled deeply, drawing the wet, living scent of the rain deep into her lungs. There was a fine, stimulating feel to it, despite the chill-one that seemed to tingle in her blood-and her grimace faded into something suspiciously like a grin as she admitted the truth to herself.

It wasn't the rain that irritated her so. Not really. As a matter of fact, Kaeritha rather liked rain. She might have preferred a little less of it than the West Riding had received over the past several weeks, but the truth was that this rain was simply part and parcel of the real cause of her frustration. She should have been on her way at least two weeks ago, and instead she'd allowed the rain to help delay her travel plans.

Not that there hadn't been enough other reasons for that same delay. She could come up with a lengthy list of those, all of them entirely valid, without really trying. Unfortunately, "reasons" were beginning to turn into something entirely too much like "excuses" for her taste. Which meant that, rain or no rain, it was time she was on her way. Besides- Her thoughts broke off as a tall, red-haired young woman rounded the pa.s.sageway corner with a hurried stride that was just short of a trot. The newcomer, who came to an abrupt halt as she caught sight of Kaeritha, was both very young and very tall, even for a Sothoii n.o.blewoman. At fourteen, she was already over six feet-taller than Kaeritha herself, who was considered a tall woman, by Axeman standards-and she was also beginning to show the curves of what promised to be an extraordinarily attractive womanhood.

Her expression was a curious blend of pleasure, half-guilt, and semi-rebellion . . . and her attire of the moment was better suited to a stable hand than an aristocratic young lady, Kaeritha thought wryly. She wore a worn pair of leather trousers (which, Kaeritha noted, were becoming more than a bit too tight in certain inappropriate places) under a faded smock which had been darned in half a dozen spots. It also showed several damp patches, and there were splashes of mud on the girl's riding boots and the thoroughly soaked poncho hanging over her left arm.

"Excuse me, Dame Kaeritha," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude on you. I was just taking a shortcut." "It's not an intrusion," Kaeritha a.s.sured her. "And even if it were, unless I'm mistaken, this is your family's home, Lady Leeana. I imagine it's appropriate for you to wander about in it from time to time if it takes your fancy."