The Dragon Done It - By Eric Flint Page 0,3

has a wife or a girlfriend, it has a grudge against you," said Mallory.

"In essence," admitted Macro.

"What about the sideshow acts?"

"Well," said Micro, "there's the sword swallower. And of course the fire eater. And the contortionist's husband."

"Oh my goodness yes!" said Macro, a blissful smile. "The contortionist!"

"I'm surprised you guys had time to go on display," said Mallory dryly.

"We never missed a show," said Macro.

"Or a woman," added Micro.

"Anyone not connected with the circus got a grudge against you?" asked Mallory. "After all, there are probably three or four million husbands wandering around Manhattan."

"No, we always keep it in the family."

"I can't tell you how many filthy puns spring to mind," replied Mallory.

"If you'll tell them to me as soon as these two leave, I'll tell you the one about the explorer and the three belly dancers," said Perriwinkle.

"What was that?" ask Macro.

"My magic mirror," said Mallory. "Say hello to the gentlemen, Perriwinkle."

"Hi, guys," said Perriwinkle.

"It talks!" exclaimed Micro.

"Of course I talk."

"I don't think I ever saw a talking mirror before," said Micro.

"That's your loss," said Perriwinkle. "I come from a long line of magic mirrors, so don't you go acting as if I'm a mere object. I have hopes and fears and sexual needs, just like anyone else."

"Not like these two, I hope," interjected Mallory.

"How did you get such a wondrous thing?" asked Macro.

"I kind of inherited it," said Mallory.

"He gave me to the army, but I was bored there," added Perriwinkle. "All they wanted were battle scenes, so I came back here. At least John Justin enjoys black-and-white movies and baseball games."

"Isn't that amazing!" said Micro, still staring at the mirror. "A talking mirror! Why, the next thing you know, that catlike statue will speak."

"Skritch my back," said the catlike statue.

"Not now, Felina," said Mallory.

"This place is getting a little weird for us," said Macro. "Maybe we should think about going and letting Mr. Mallory get to work."

"It's weirder for me," said Mallory. "At least you two were born here."

"Weren't you?" asked Macro.

Mallory shook his head. "No, I've only been here a couple of years."

"Where are you from?"

"Manhattan."

"But this is Manhattan."

"This is the Manhattan that people in my Manhattan can sometimes see out of the corner of their eye, but when they turn to face it it's not there."

"So how did you get here?"

"It's a long story.* I assume I can contact you at the circus?"

Macro shook his head unhappily. "We've been fired. You can find us at Joyful Jessie's Bulgarian Pizzaria and Flophouse."

"Third room on the right," added Micro. "Knock first."

"Why bother?" said Macro unhappily. "There's no door."

"It kind of makes up for all the boards over the window," said Micro.

"It's on the corner of Sloth and Despair," said Macro.

"I'm sure I can find it," said Mallory. "I'll be in touch as soon as I learn anything."

"Almost anything," said Perriwinkle. Mallory turned to the mirror. "After all," it continued, "you're going to learn the story of the explorer and the three belly dancers. I'm sure that these gentlemen couldn't care less about it."

"I don't know about that," said Macro, stopping at the door. "Is it dirty?"

"Filthy."

Macro slipped another five dollars to Mallory. "Remember to tell it to me next time we meet," he said, and then he and Micro walked out into the night.

"So what do you think?" said Mallory as he finished explaining the case to his partner.

Winnifred Carruthers brushed a wisp of gray hair back from her pudgy face. "The circus is clearly the place to start," she replied. "Our clients seem to have been so busy making enemies there I wouldn't think they've had time to make them anywhere else." She looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you have that strange expression on your face, John Justin?"

"There's a circus filled to overflowing with suspects, and we've only got four days," he replied. "I was thinking that we might enlist a little outside help."

"Who did you—?" Suddenly Winnifred frowned. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "Not the Grundy!"

"He'd be able to tell us who knows enough magic to pull this off," said Mallory.

"He's the most powerful demon on the East Coast—and in case it's slipped your mind, he's your mortal enemy!"

"Maybe he doesn't like someone else practicing magic," suggested Mallory. "Maybe we can make a deal. He may be Evil Incarnate, but he's got his own sense of honor. He's never broken his word to me."

"His last word was that he was going to disembowel you slowly and painfully," she reminded him.

Mallory shrugged. "A poetic metaphor."

"From a