little sigh. Massha, Tanda, and Bunny were all correct. They were in love with each other.

“All right already! Let's get back to the point,” Aahz insisted. Hermalaya and Matfany looked at each other. The princess's little pink nose turned even more pink. Both of them retreated to their seats.

“So you see what we have to do,” Bunny said. “We have to get both of them back where they belong.”

Aahz turned to Hermalaya. “Okay. Here's the bottom line. We need to reinstate you, in some kind of realistic fashion, and we need to change your image,” he said to Matfany.

“We can't,” I said. Everybody turned to look at me. I shrugged. “He condemned a member of the royal house to death, so he can't just quit and say he's sorry. Hermalaya can't marry a traitor. He can't just come back. He has to pay with his life.”

Matfany looked taken aback. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“You can't take him away again?”

I grinned. “Not exactly. We invent a savior for the king-​dom, someone who is willing to come in and put the prin-​cess back on her throne.” I held up my hands dramatically and formed an illusion between them. “From the faraway land of, uh, Goodenrich, at the far south end of Reynardo, comes the handsome prince Fanmat, who will face the usurper and defeat him in a really dramatic duel to the death.” The white-​furred figure of Princess Hermalaya ap-​peared on a castle parapet, threatened by a black-​haired villain. A shining, golden-​pelted hero came riding in on a stallionI immediately nixed the stallion when every-​body else in the room gave me a strange lookpushed the villain aside, and took Hermalaya in his arms. “Then he can marry the princess, who gets her throne back, and the two of you can live happily ever after.”

“Bravo,” cheered Chumley. “Yes, I can see it. It would suit the situation precisely, what?” “Looks good to me, too, Boss,” Guido said. Bunny gave a nod of approval.

The prime minister shook his head in concern. “There's no kingdom of Goodenrich or a Prince Fanmat that I know of,” Matfany said, frowning. “And I don't like this idea of dying, sir, even though I admit I've been a fool.”

Hermalaya tapped his wrist. “Silly, it's you.”

I clapped my hands, and the vision vanished. “I wouldn't be much of a magician if I couldn't create a good illusionary hero. Until you can change your appearance to match it, that is.”

“I like him the way he is?” the princess protested. “Can't do it,” Aahz said, flatly. “Why not?” Tananda asked. “Everybody will love it.”

“It'll void all my contracts,” Aahz complained. “You're going to destroy my reputation in sixteen dimensions for a lousy love story. Matfany is the one who signed them.”

“Not if I confirm them, Mister Aahz,” Hermalaya said. “On a modest basis, your idea of sponsoring national land-​marks might be a good thing. But no more big old gaudy signs. That destroys the natural beauty, and without that, what have you got?”

Matfany stared at her with dawning admiration. “That's some mighty good business sense, ma'am.”

She blushes. “I've learned a thing or two from Mister Skeeve and his friends.”

“Any more objections?” Bunny asked Aahz.

“Nope,” Aahz said with resignation. “If I don't lose out on anything. I don't care what kind of shenanigans you have to go through to get what you want.”

“We'll have to make it dramatic,” Tananda said. “Chum-​ley and I staged a fake assassination once. It was great!”

“Indeed,” Chumley said. “Owing chiefly to the skill of the dramatis personae, myself included, I might humbly add.”

“Oh, that sounds like it will be fun?” Hermalaya said. “It was,” Tananda said. “Have you ever done any skits?”

“Sometimes my ladies and I act out scenes from books,” Hermalaya admitted. “But this sounds like it is much more interesting?”

“At least you won't have stage fright,” Guido said. “That is the ailment that has caused more than one person of tal-​ent to have to forgo a public career in spite of talent.”

“Oh, I'm used to public speaking,” the princess said, starting to become enthusiastic about the prospect. Aahz seemed to be getting into the spirit. “Do we have to feed you lines, or can you memorize a script?”

“Sir,” Hermalaya said, pretending to be indignant, “I have to make an hour-​long speech every year on the anni-​versary of my ascension? Of course I can remember lines.”

“In that, I am afraid I am your weak link,” Matfany said. “I am a good public servant, but I am no actor. I do not dissemble.”

“In other words, what you see is what you get?” Massha asked. “What if we act around him?” Tananda asked, eyeing the prime minister with dismay.

“Don't worry,” Aahz said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We'll take care of that. He doesn't have to do a thing. I have it all worked out.”

Myth 18 - MythChief

THIRTY -SEVEN

“One little piece of cake won't kill me.” M. ANTOINETTE “I still don't see why I have to be the bad guy,” I grumbled. “He was your client.”

“We're working together now,” Aahz said. “This is for the common good of Foxe-​Swampburg. How's the advance publicity going?”

Massha gave us a wicked grin.

“I started rumors in at least sixty bookstores that Her-​malaya was going to defy the evil prime minister and turn up in Foxe-​Swampburg tomorrow afternoon. If the re-​sponse I got was any indication, then thousands of people are going to show up just to see if it's true.”

“Great,” Aahz said. “The more the merrier.

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