sympathy for him.

“Forget it,” I said. “We're there. Hi, guys! Great to see you.”

We had been met by not only the Geek and some of his business partners, but the entire Salamander workforce, all of them bright orange-​red hot, and boiling mad.

Salamanders are small but dangerous beings from a di-​mension called Salamagundi. They like to visit other places because they're social by nature. Trouble is. they can set almost anything on fire just by touching it, which makes having one for a houseguest a real pain in the poste-​rior, Gus, our Gargoyle buddy who worked in the Golden Crescent Inn and did side jobs for us. had a Salamander pal named Berfert, who had also worked for M.Y.T.H., Inc. once in a while. Gargoyles don't have the problem with flammability the rest of us do, being made of solid stone. That was also why I hadn't panicked when the Geek told me he had hired a Salamander advertising firm to run his billboard on Geek's Peak. There should have been no prob-​lems with the little lizards on a bare rock face.

“Toned down” in Matfany's terms, or even my terms, came nowhere even in the same ballpark with the Geek's, but the whorls, flourishes and fancy typography had been reduced by over three-​quarters of the mountainside. Within the newly defined borders, I could see wild streaks and black burns, evidence of Salamanders being surprised by something.

“Look at that!” Pintubo shrieked in his shrill little voice, waving his tiny forefoot upward. “Hazardous conditions! My lizards don't have to work like this.”

“Right!” the miniature crowd of Salamanders cried. “What do we want?” “Safety harnesses!” “When do we want them?”

“NOW!”

“But you guys can melt yourselves into solid stone,” I said, interrupting the chanting. “There's no reason you should be falling off. That's not even a vertical slope.”

“It's some kind of magic!” the forelizard said. “Either you fix it or we're going on strike. We'll take down the other displays around town, too.”

“If they do, we'll sue,” Gribaldi said. He was a large, meaty Deveel with a sloping forehead on which black eye-​brows grew thick enough to lose an antelope in. “You agreed that we get to advertise our sponsorship.”

“I know,” I said. “Look, Pintubo, try it again. I just had a confab with the master wizard who was interfering, and he said he won't do it anymore. Give it a try.”

The tiny lizards swarmed up the cliff face and moved into position. At a signal from Pintubo, they started racing around in their designated circuits. I had to admit that the effect was pretty darned impressive. The hot orange dots seemed to blur into lines. The mountainside above us be-​gan to blink on and off. The Geek. The Geek. The Geek.

I put my arms around the shoulders of the Geek and Gribaldi. “Pretty darned impressive, huh? No more accidents.” “All right,” the Geek said, grudgingly. “As long as it doesn't happen again.”

“It won't,” I promised him. “We're all going to be one big, happy family from now on.”

Myth 18 - MythChief

TWENTY -NINE

That problem was solved. Too bad there was no easy solu-​tion to the cranky crowd that now surged around us. I had thought at first there were only a few dozen, but hundreds, even thousands of Swamp Foxes had made the hike up the steep path to make their displeasure known.

I had to hand it to Matfany. He never flinched. He hopped up on a handy rock, stuck his thumb in the lapel of his coat, and addressed them.

“Good people of Foxe-​Swampburg, I am happy to see you all. I want to talk to you today about our nation's pros-​perity. We have had some hard times in the past. In that light, some hard decisions had to be made by me so that our nation could survive. Our resources were few, so I enlisted the help of some kindly folks to help us get back on our feet.” He opened a hand toward us. When the baleful eyes of the Swamp Foxes turned our way, I wished that he hadn't. Noth-​ing like an angry mob to make you start to look for the exit.

“What are you going to do about that eyesore behind you?” a passionate female voice demanded.

“This fine exhibition is part of our recovery,” Matfany said. “We have to welcome new partners into our midst for at least a time. I hope you will embrace them as I have. It is all for the benefit of our fine country. I hope to lead you into a prosperous future in which we can hold our heads high and stand proudly beside our neighbors. It is my con-​tention that Foxe-​Swampburg will return to being a kind and welcoming place for visitors ...”

SPLAT! Streamers of stinking goo sprayed all over me and Guido. Someone in the crowd had thoughtfully brought along a basket of decayed vegetables. I backed up until I could feel the cliff face at my back.

“Mention Hermalaya,” I hissed.

“Ah, yes,” Matfany said, straightening his glasses. “It may take you some time to get used to the new form of gov-​ernment here in our nation, but it is for the best. My cabinet and I have your best interests in mind. You are welcome to send queries and concerns to my office. I am especially in-​terested in hearing where problems need to be addressed.”

“What about the princess?” I hissed.

“Some of you have voiced your displeasure at the ab-​sence of Princess Hermalaya. I am

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