'Ready?' I asked, extending my arm to Tananda.
'Ready,' she said, smiling a little uncertainly.
I was nervous, too. I had set everything up in advance for our evening out, and I hoped the arrangements would please her. I wore an open-necked shirt in a deep slate blue that Bunny thought was my best-looking shirt, and sand-colored trousers. I had resisted the impulse to wear my favorite shoes, the ones with the toes that curled over twice before terminating in tiny bells. Instead, I had a pair of comfortable ankle-high boots in case I needed to do any fetching and carrying for her.
Speaking of fetching, Tananda wore a low-cut dress of green fabric so thin that it looked as if it had been painted on her but remained opaque. I scanned it for magik, but it must just have been a master weaver's accomplishment. The skirt was not as short as she normally wore, but it flared with each step, revealing a bewitching glimpse of knees. Tananda's were worth looking at, no matter what. The shoes were a puzzle to me, as most women's shoes were. Why anyone would bind themselves into a network of narrow straps on top of an acute slope of sole attached to a heel no wider than my little finger was a mystery I didn't understand. You couldn't run away in them. The narrow sole made it awkward to stand on one foot to use the stiletto for a weapon. Still, they made her legs look even more attractive than ever.
I escorted her out of the flap of the M.Y.T.H., Inc., tent and helped her into a chuckshaw, a local two- wheeled vehicle that was pulled by a team of Soxen, one red and one white. They trundled down the streets of the Bazaar, kicking up dust and emitting the kind of flatulence that you'd expect from large
herdbeasts. I had paid them to keep from defecating until after they had dropped us off. That would spoil the mood I hoped to achieve. As evening settled over the Bazaar, the air remained stiflingly hot. It would take an hour after the sun went down before the desert cooled. Coming from the temperate climate of the dimension of my birth, I still marveled at the extremes of living in a desert.
I chatted about this observation and compared it with conditions in Ghordon.
'It's funny how alike they are,' I commented. 'I'm used to dimensions being really different from one another. If you'd asked me before I left Klah for the first time, I would have said there was only one way for a climate to behave, but I like the variety. What is the weather like in Trollia?'
'Different,' Tananda said, unexpectedly terse.
As Tananda sat against me in the curved but not adequately padded seat, I could feel the tension in her body. For someone who came from a race of beings who enjoyed— no, actively sought out—intimate contact with others, her behavior was unnatural. I hoped by the end of the evening she would relax. Perhaps a gift would improve her mood.
'Here,' I said, pulling a small box out from behind me and setting it in her lap. She looked through the clear top at the contents. White blossoms of nested oblong petals lay clustered on curling, blue-green foliage.
'Flowers?' she asked weakly.
'Squizzias,' I said. 'They're rare flowers from Klah. They smell really nice. My mother used to grow them in the front garden of our farm house. They're her favorite. I hoped you'd like them, too.'
'I'm . . . honored,' Tananda said. She opened the box and lifted the blossoms to her cheek. 'Mmm. They smell delicious.'
'Shall I help you pin it on?' I asked. The Deveel florist in the Bazaar had given me pretty specific instructions on how not to puncture my date with the pin. He had let me try out the lethal-looking metal skewer several times on a dummy he kept in its shop for that purpose. When it stopped saying 'ouch,' I found I had become pretty expert at attaching corsages. Tananda fended off my helpful hands.
'No, thanks, honey. I'll take care of it.' With deft fingers, she attached the cluster of flowers to her bodice high on her shoulder. I admired the effect. She was really beautiful. I never forgot that—I'm still breathing—but sometimes it just struck me like a sack of rocks.
'That looks nice on you,' I stammered out.
For the first time I could recall since I met her, Tananda blushed. Her cheeks bloomed slightly green. Instead of commenting on it, I told her about the pyramid complex, without going into a discussion of the problems or the suspicions Aahz and I had about their source. You never knew if the Soxen were in the pay of any Deveel hoping to pick up useful information from people who forgot that the cab had ears.
Before I knew it, we had arrived. Le Mouton Suprisee had a long line waiting to be seated. I handed Tananda down from the chuckshaw and escorted her boldly past the line of dapper Deveels and their dates. Some of the customers gave us dirty looks, some looks of envy, and some both. I didn't acknowledge any of them, concentrating on getting Tananda safely inside.
'Mister Skeeve! How wonderful to see you this evening! And the lovely lady!'
The maitre d', who had responded to a little early bribery in the way of all good servers, seated us with
effusion at the table I had chosen earlier: near the front window, in between a couple of potted plants to give us the greatest possible privacy while we watched the nightly perambulations of the Bazaar outside. He furnished us with leather-bound menus and bowed himself away to wait on the next good client. I smiled. So far, everything was working out as I had planned it.
Over the top of her menu, Tanda raised an eyebrow at me.
'Is there anything you think I should choose?'
'Nope,' I said expansively. 'Try whatever you like.' I read down the list to make my own selection. The prices made my inner farm-boy choke, but my modern, executive magician self had plenty of money and a willingness to give enjoyment to my guest. The menu of Le Mouton Surprisee listed every kind of elegant dish I had ever heard of, plus hundreds of things I hadn't in its crisp parchment pages
Next in the line of employees who would expected tips was the wine steward, a female Deveel wearing her badge of office, a silver tasting cup on a chain around her neck. In the past, my knowledge of wine was limited to what didn't taste bad enough to spit out. I had since learned to pay more attention to quality, as I limited myself to one glass per night. That, I promised myself, would be the case this evening, no matter how nervous I was.
And I was nervous. I was controlling myself from shaking with a solid dollop of magik. I wondered if Tananda could tell. She knew me better than almost anyone. It mattered to me to make this evening special.
'What do you recommend?' I asked.
That was the wrong question.
'Well, sir,' the sommelier said, beaming, 'I am so glad you asked.' She launched into a lecture on grapes, slopes, sun, brix—which I had always thought of as an uncomfortable operation—age, barrels and a whole lot of other esoteric information which would have been more useful had I planned to go into winemaking instead of wine-drinking. I needed to take control of the situation. Tananda couldn't help grinning mischievously at the expression on my face.
I held up my hands to stem the outburst.
'Hold on!' I said. 'If you offer classes, I'll come and take one someday. In the meanwhile, what's the least I need to know to order something that will taste good with the food here?'
'Are you planning to order meat, fish, reptile, fowl, insect or other?' the Deveel woman asked. 'That's the least J need to know to recommend a wine.'
'Fish,' Tananda said.
'Me, too,' I said.
'Then a white or a green would be your best choice.'
I grinned at Tananda. 'I think we'd like a nice green from somewhere in the middle of your list. We've got a green theme going, and I think it'd be fun to continue.'
For some reason my joke made Tananda blush again.
'As you wish, sir.' The Deveel held out her palm. I dropped a tip into it, not too much or too little, I
hoped. She seemed pleased by it, or as pleased as any Deveel was to get a portion of the contents of your money pouch instead of the whole amount. She snapped her fingers. In an instant, a brown glass bottle and a pair of tall, delicate wine glasses floated gently toward us. The wine steward plucked the bottle from the air, ran her talon around the foil seal, and extracted the cork, all with one hand. I almost applauded. She poured a little for each of us. I tasted it. The pale green wine was as unlike my normal tipple as could be.
'This is great,' I said.
'Mmm,' Tananda agreed.
