"You have to admit it looks like her," Nunzio said.

"They're selling images of me?" Hermalaya asked. She snatched the box out of my hands and gazed at it with growing horror. "Mister Skeeve, this is outrageous of you! Is absolutely nothing sacred where you are concerned?"

"I didn't authorize this," I said. I flipped it over, looking for a company name or an address. "Asfodeel's Novelties, Paperhanger's Lane. This also came from the Bazaar!"

Massha shrugged. "No surprise. Anything that rips off a good idea is almost guaranteed to be run by Deveels."

I had a sudden inspiration, and I didn't like it. "Or someone tipped off by Deveels," I said. "We'd better go see what's going on. Thanks for your time, Overseer."

"My pleasure," the white-clad clown said, waving us toward the vacuum ejector. "Come see me when you have something really original to show me."

I was so mad I could hardly think. I bamfed us into the Bazaar so fast that I didn't even bother to figure out where we would land. Fortunately, my instincts were smarter at that moment than my conscious mind. We appeared in front of M.Y.T.H., Inc.'s own tent. I had automatically gone toward my old stomping grounds.

"Uh," I said awkwardly, unable to offer a legitimate excuse to my companions for my choice. "This could get kind of ugly. I don't think that the princess ought to get involved in it. I'd like to put her in a safe place."

"She could hide out in our lent, Boss," Nunzio said. "No one would dare interfere with her in our own territory."

"I say, would you like a spot of tea, your highness?" Chumley asked her with a bow that was a triumph of grace for someone his size. "I am afraid I won't be as elegant in my service as you are, but I am sure refreshment would not go amiss. Perhaps you would like a moment to rest. You have had a most strenuous day."

Hermalaya was torn. "Well, I am sure you are the most courteous thing, but I should go along with Mister Skeeve?"

"Better not, honey," Massha said. "Even if this was legitimate, you don't want to be around for the nitty-gritty. Let Chumley take care of you. We'll be back."

"But I ought to come with you," the Swamp Vixen protested. "Isn't it my countenance that they are messing with?"

"Better not to involve you. doll—I mean, princess," Nunzio said, giving her a pat on the arm. "Don't worry."

Chumley led her firmly into the tent. "This way, your highness. Perhaps you and I can discuss other customs of your most fascinating dimension...." The flap swished shut behind them.

The three of us stalked toward Paperhanger's Lane. I assumed my disguise as the ancient and powerful wizard. Massha put on all the magikal jewelry in her shoulder bag. Nunzio put a hand in his pocket. I knew he was counting bolts for his miniature crossbow. We were taking no chances.

All along the way I kept noticing copies of the handbill that the Overseer of Mirth had shown us offering "The Famous Reynard Cake Ceremony! Fun for the Whole Family. At Reasonable Prices!" Somebody had plastered the Bazaar with them. I saw all our advantage leaching away. Was this an onslaught by Aahz to cut off our source of capital?

When we reached the flap of Asfodeel's tent, there was no doubt at all that we had found the source of the action figures. Dolls of every species and shape were pinned to the leather curtain. Right in the middle of the display was the Hermalaya doll, complete with its silver accessory. Small Deveel children, mostly girls, fingered the toys and clamored to their long-suffering parents to buy them. The red-skinned Deveel behind the heaped table, a narrow-faced, narrow-eyed individual with a forked beard, turned to grin at me.

"And how can I help you, honored sir?" he asked, in a silky voice.

I ripped the Cake Queen action figure from the display and brandished it at him.

"For a start, you can stop selling these."

"Are you out of your mind?" the Deveel screamed, going from a baritone to a soprano in one sentence. "Why should I?"

"Because you don't have permission to use this lady's image," I said. "This is Princess Hermalaya of Reynardo. J am her representative. Maybe you've heard of me? I am Skeeve the Magnificent."

"And I am Asfodeel the Totally Unimpressed! Do you see?" he demanded of his potential buyers. "I sell you dolls of a real live princess, and this fool wants me to take them away from you!"

"Princess?" the little girls asked, their pointy ears perking up. "A real one?" They went for the display on the table, grabbing up the cardboard boxes.

"No!" I said, taking the dolls out of their hands. The girls burst into tears. Their parents rounded on me in fury.

"What are you doing to our children?"

"Thief! Thief! Well call the authorities!"

"Just a minute, Skeeve," Massha said, gently, taking the boxes away from me. She dealt them out to the girls as smoothly as a card shark. "You're solving the wrong problem."

I turned my scowl on Asfodeel. "Where did you hear about Hermalaya?"

The Deveel looked at me as if I were feebleminded. "She's all over the place! I saw her in the crystal ball at breakfast yesterday, and got a shipment from my factory on a crash basis. I mean, there's instant publicity. Why shouldn't I cash in—I mean, provide a figure from current events for these lovely children?" He beamed at the eager little girls.

"Because," I said, pushing in on him from one side as Nunzio did from the other, "there might be some severe repercussions for doing it."

He felt Nunzio's crossbow bolt poking him in the rib cage. Deveels might have been loud and dishonest, but most of them were also cowards.

"Well, if you put it that way ... How about I cut you in on the action? Say ... two percent of net?"

I had a different offer. "Say ... you stop making these, and you get to keep your factory and your shop?"

"And who are you to threaten me?"

"He's Skeeve the Magnificent," Nunzio said. "Like he told you. I thought you were listening."

"Your name has no meaning anymore, old man. Nothing you can do will stop me. Your Hermalaya is a public figure. She's got no special rights to her own image. I got advice."

"What kind of advice?"

Asfodeel smirked. "A guy told me you was a has-been. He says there's no fight left in you. You've lost all your influence. All you're breathing is hot air."

"Who told you that?"

The Deveel shook loose from our grasp. "Forget about it. I don't blab my sources." I fumed. "Aahz."

"You don't know that, Hot Stuff," Massha said, but the look on Asfodeel's face told me I had hit gold. Aahz had told this guy I was a has-been. He was actually talking me down in the Bazaar! The ... the Pervert!

"I'll show you how powerless I am," I said, throwing back my sleeves. Asfodeel stuck up his chin.

"Come and take me on, big Klahd. I'll tell everyone the Great Skeeve is afraid of competition. You haven't been around much lately. Word on the street was that you lost your nerve. How about that? Are you willing to attack one of the little guys? In front of witnesses?"

I stopped short. The fact he was taunting me meant he wanted to cash in on the controversy. I knew all the ear-marks. I'd been in this position once or twice before. I didn't like it, but I held on to my temper.

"You're not even worth my discussing it with you," I said haughtily. "Come, my friends. Let's go."

I withdrew, hating him with all my being but absolutely unwilling to give him an inch. Within three steps, Asfodeel was at my side.

"But what about a percentage? You're just going to walk away? When I'm unauthorized?" I allowed myself a tiny grin. He WAS hoping I'd fight him or partner up. What he never counted on was neither. Maybe I had learned something.