The Dragon Done It - By Eric Flint Page 0,7

including the beard?" said Marvin. "Remarkable."

"No, not the beard—the height. I'm told that you have the skills to have done that to them."

"I certainly do," said Marvin. "My magic can stop the world from spinning, can halt the stars in their courses, can make Time run backwards. Of course, it can't get Thelma the kootch dancer into the sack, but I'm working on it."

"What do you have against Micro and Macro?" asked Mallory.

"Nothing," said Marvin. "Why?"

"So you're not carrying a grudge?"

"Certainly not. They were two of my best friends."

"Just for the record: did you put a spell on them?"

"I did not."

"Who else has the skill to make Macro smaller and Micro bigger?"

"Well, there's always the Grundy."

"The Grundy probably doesn't even know they're alive."

"Yeah, I suppose when you're Evil Incarnate you take more of an interest in them after they're dead." Suddenly he looked very nervous. He turned his face to the ceiling and said in a loud clear voice: "That was just a figure of speech. Actually, the Grundy is the salt of the earth, the most noble of demons, and he would never listen in on a private conversation or misinterpret an expression of enormous respect."

"I'm starting to understand why he and I have a mutual respect for each other," said Mallory with a grimace. "Neither of us has much tolerance for bullshit." He paused. "Who else could do it?"

"Shrink and grow them?" said Marvin. "Well, there's Morris the Mage, and Big-Hearted Milton, and they say Dead End Dugan is pretty good at hexing ever since he came back."

"Came back from where?" asked Mallory, curious in spite of himself.

"The cemetery over in Queens," answered Marvin. "He's a zombie now. And then there's—"

"Just a minute," said Mallory. "I don't really need a list of every magician in the city. Do any of them work for the circus?"

"No, not since Spellsinger Slim accidentally left his wand in Backbreaker Bennie's bed."

"Backbreaker Bennie. Isn't he the wrestler?"

"He used to be. Now he's our strong man."

"Why would he care if Spellsinger Slim left a wand in his bed?"

"Because Slim left Mrs. Backbreaker there too." Marvin shook his head. "Poor Slim. I still miss him."

"Does anyone around here ever think of anything besides sex?" asked Mallory.

"At least twice a day I think of eating."

Mallory walked to the door. "I've heard enough for one morning," he said. "I may want to speak to you again. Tell the troops to let me pass next time."

"They let you pass this time," noted Marvin. "Your cat did terrible things to their self-confidence."

"Just tell them," repeated Mallory. "Next time she may do terrible things to their bodies."

"Where are we going now?" asked Felina as they left the locker room.

"To find Winnifred and see if she had any better luck than we did."

They began walking toward the arena. Along the way they passed Madame Nadine again.

"Hey, Buddy," she said, not looking up at him, "for a dollar the all-seeing all-knowing Madame Nadine will name three rock stars who haven't been busted on drug charges in the past year. Well, two anyway."

Mallory just walked past her without a word, and a moment later entered the arena. He had to step aside while a pair of eight-ton dragons pulled a chariot filled with scantily-clad warrior women back to the dressing area, then spotted Winnifred speaking with a man who stood inside a large cage containing half a dozen gorgons. He held a whip in one hand and a chair in the other, but the gorgons, gathered on the far side of the cage, looked half-asleep.

"Yes," he was saying, "they had a restless night, what with all that crying and carrying on."

"The poor dears," said Winnifred. "By the way, I'd feed the one on the left a little extra meat each morning. I think he's showing the early stages of pellagra."

"Do gorgons get pellagra?"

"Oh, yes," she assured him. "Gorgons can get pellagra, mumps, measles, any number of diseases. Although," she added thoughtfully, "I've never known one to come down with chracksmir."

"Chracksmir?" repeated the man nervously. "What is that?"

"It's a relatively rare disease that causes serious softening of the bill in the Three-Toed Blue-Eyed Central African Woodpecker." Winnifred paused thoughtfully. "No, I've never known a gorgon to come down with it." She stared at the gorgon in question. "I still remember his mother," she continued. "She was a handful. There were times I thought I'd never get her back to the States in one piece."

"How did you manage?"

"I set up a turntable just outside her

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