Myth-Told Tales

white blur passed me as Glory, on Suzicue, hurtled ahead. I heard the princess's hearty laugh.

'Ha hah! Exhilarating, isn't it? Tally ho! Yoicks!'

The thundering gait turned into a speedy lollop, easier on my spine than the canter, but now we were running into the forest. Low-lying branches swept over me, threatening to scoop me off. Grimly I clenched the reins and leaned down over Fireball's neck. As I told Massha, I'm not built for the saddle. I found myself digging my toe talons into the mount's side. He didn't seem to notice, probably because of the boots. He was too busy tossing his head to clear twigs out of his eyes. I put my head down next to his neck as I tried to keep Suzicue in sight It'd take me forever to find my way back in these thick woods. If I'd had my magik, I'd have popped back to the castle and told Massha I resigned.

Over hill and down dale we galloped, pounding through the undergrowth. We were following a trail, but it was thickly overgrown. No surprise, if no one used it but Glory and her family. Birds fluttered upward, calling. Showers of leaves and seeds rained down on me. I tightened my grasp on Fireball.

A thin branch hit me in the forehead like a hot wire. I let out a bellow of pain.

Through the trees I saw mottled shapes scatter and flee: animals running from the sound of my voice. As Fireball crested the hill in Suzicue's wake I spotted another shape, one moving toward me. It stood upright on two legs, not on all fours or all sixes like the rest of Brakespear's wildlife. I squinted, trying to see details. Twigs lashed my face. I spat out leaves. Just as suddenly as I had spotted it, the mysterious shape vanished. Whatever it was had gotten close enough to get a look at us, then disappeared on the spot. That spoke of intelligence and probably advanced magik or technology. I caught up with Glory, and rode back to the castle in thoughtful silence.

'You were right to call us in,' I told her and the others, once we were closeted in her personal study and Massha's privacy bracelet had drawn a cone of silence around us. 'There is someone out there, scoping out the woods.'

'I have a thousand forest rangers,' Glory argued. 'It could have been one of them.' I could see she didn't believe what she was saying.

'So what do we do?' Massha asked.

I sighed down to my bruised end. 'We go with Plan A, but we'd better have Plans B and C as backups. We join the hunt tomorrow.'

'Gleep!' announced the dragon. He was the only one who seemed happy about it.

'Stirrup cup, good sir?' asked a strapping Brakespearan appearing next to my mount. He presented me with a brimming silver goblet shaped like a skull.

'Heady liquor, is it?' I asked.

'Sire?'

'Never mind.' I took the cup and drained it 'Tally ho and yoicks.' I tossed the empty back to him. He withdrew, bowing. I took a good look around.

The misty morning air was full of the smell of brimstone and rotting meat as the Master of Hounds, as he was still called, organized five dozen assorted dragons by size with the help of a dozen handlers. Gleep, one of the smallest, was at the front with a couple of wyverns and a half-grown wurm. Nunzio, holding up a meaty bone, made him sit up and beg. Even though Gleep had been a royal pain in the posterior since the day Skeeve, er, acquired him, he was kind of cute. At a distance.

Fireball started at something invisible, dancing under me. I tightened my knees, and my muscles reminded me that they'd had a hard time the day before.

'How are you doing, Aahz?' Massha floated over to me from the royal reviewing stand. She was dressed in brown and green, the royal colors of Brakespear, to match Gloriannamarjolie.

'I'm remembering why I don't do this for fun,' I gritted.

'Attention, all of you!' We turned to face the stand. King Henryarthurjon smiled down on us. He was a big, muscular Brakespearan with fox-red hair going white at the temples and green eyes like his daughter's. He held out his hands for silence, spreading out all four thumbs in a gesture of welcome. 'We are gratified to see so many puissant hunters assembled here to participate in our daughter's Royal Hunt!' Rousing cheers interrupted him, and he smiled paternally at Glory. Glory held her hands up over her head in a gesture of victory. Her outfit was classic camouflage: A long-sleeved dress of light-absorbing brown and green mottled fabric covered her from shoulders to knees; no velcro or zippers. Tall, soft boots that would absorb the sound of stepped-on leaves or twigs were cross-gartered on her long legs, and slung across from one shoulder to the opposite hip was a sptit-leather bag that appeared to be driving the dragons into a greater frenzy than they'd usually be in. I assumed it contained the bait she would use to draw her trail. A pair of gloves were tucked into her belt. 'She will give you a good run, my friends. The rules are three in number the hunt shall commence at my signal. It will continue until sunset or until a hunter captures the princess—alive, naturally. Points will be given for style, courtesy, riding, coursing, handling of one's hound, and, of course, success. The hunter who bags the princess wins the grand prize, the finest treasure in the kingdom.' He snapped his fingers, and two pages in army-surplus tabards staggered up onto the dais carrying a solid gold box. 'This is a most remarkable treasure chest, my friends and guests. Once an item has been entrusted to its depths, it will always be safe, even when it is taken out again. If a treasure is stolen, one can always retrieve it by reaching into the chest. As far as I know this coffer is unique throughout the dimensions. I think you will agree it is a worthy prize, what ho?'

The assembled hunters let out a collective ' 'Oooooh.' I raised an eyebrow. I was impressed. That was definitely a goodie worth having.

The king raised a finger. 'However, if she manages to elude all of you, the prize will go to my daughter. A consolation award goes to the hunter who has garnered the most points. These are our five judges, and their decision is final.'

The king gestured behind him with an arm toward the others on the stand. Massha was among the five. We'd agreed that the best way for her to keep an eye on things was a bird's-eye view, floating above with the help of her flying ring. As an official judge she could call for help from the others or from the army of forest rangers who'd be accompanying the hunt.

I looked around me at the other riders, trying to spot which one might have been the shadowy figure in the woods. Massha and I had scanned the area looking for footprints or any other identifying spoor and come up empty. Like me, the hunters were already in the saddle-ridge, so it was hard to guess which could be the right height. In riding hats, helmets, little red riding hoods, and crowns, none of the heads matched the silhouette I had half-seen. I couldn't exactly go up to the Samiram of Porzimm and tell him to take off his turban. This snake- skinned nobleman had an entourage bigger than Elvis's. Next to him, on a dancing charger the size of a rhinoceros, was a good-looking Whelf seven feet tall named Prince Bosheer. The magnificent pointed ears sticking out of his mop of wavy black hair weren't as handsome as my own, since they were tan like the rest of his skin. Something about Bosheer made me look at him twice, but I couldn't put my finger on what made me uneasy. I was definitely concerned about The Niraba, a dark-furred female with a whip-thin body whose personal attributes far outweighed the rest of her. She looked us all up and down with a speculatively sensual expression on her face. Reminded me of a former girlfriend of mine. I always made sure I was heavily armed when we went anywhere, because fights tended to break out about whom she was going home with. I recognized a Deveel called Alf—short, I now learned, for Alfibiades (you can't sue your parents for that kind of abuse; it's a way they get even with you in advance for the time you wreck the family chariot). He looked uneasy on his 'hippus, a beast even smaller than mine. His eyes absolutely glittered when he saw the treasure chest. Right there I knew I had my number-one suspect. Deveels were just exactly the type to tilt the playing field in their direction by scoping out the field in advance. I wished I could analyze some of the mud on his hooves.

Nunzio showed up at my side. He put a small studded wand into my hand. 'It's a controller. Gleep has never needed one to behave, but it's a way for you to keep in touch with him over distance. If you push this button,' he indicated a baby-blue stud, 'hell stop. The red one will make him sit down, and the green one will make him run back to you wherever you are. That will help if you get lost.'

'I don't get lost,' I growled, mentally crossing my fingers that I wouldn't have to eat those words.

Nunzio nodded. He knew me. 'Right The other thing you're gonna need is this.' He gave me a red, football- shaped mass the size of my hand. 'In case one of the dragons gets out of hand. Toss it into its mouth or into its flame. The smoke will paralyze it Good luck.'

I tucked away my aces in the hole and clenched my reins. Mass assassination by dragon was by no means