"You only hired me to get the staff," Mev pointed out, thrusting it into his arms. She stood over him with her arms folded, and waited. She couldn't have sat down if she'd wanted, not with the new burn on herbottom, but she felt energized by accomplishing a successful mission. "Dragons are extra. Lots extra."

It wasn't strictly true, and they both knew it. He was aware of her reputation, knew that the fierce Mev Grayshield had had no trouble executing extracurricular kills for free in the past, but he hadn't been up there. It had not been in her to attack the dragon or its chick. After all, Litfusia had been a fellow female in trouble. She was sure the dragon wouldn't have given her the same courtesy, but that was the difference between humans and dragons. Part of the game. "My reward, please."

The wizard, grumbling, reached for the heavy leather bag at his belt. He poured a small pile of coins onto a flat rock, less than a third of the contents. "There you are."

"Thank you," Mev said, and took the bag. Folminade started to s.n.a.t.c.h it back, but Mev cleared her throat meaningfully. With a wary look in her direction, he withdrew his hand. He'd be safer facing the dragon than to be cheap with Mev. People like him really burned her backside. Mev shifted, and the heavy chainmail jerkin rubbed uncomfortably over her new scorches. Even more than Litfusia.

"Quite," Folminade said, with resignation, picking up the remaining coins. "My lord and lady thank you for your service."

"Call me any time," Mev said, with an airy wave. "I'm back in business." The wizard started off down the path toward the valley with the precious amulet in his hands, shaking his head and muttering. She grinned after him.

Besides, she thought, as she tied the pouch to her pack, she could think of her act of mercy as job security. Now that she'd ensured the survival of the next generation of dragons, there would be a beast left for her daughter to challenge one day. But Mev would definitely have to warn Kitra to fireproof the backside of her armor.

Like No Business I Know

Mark Bourne

When the gateway from Faerie reopened into our world, it happened on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, inLos Angeles , three feet from aWest Hollywood swimming pool.

Laura Lundy placed the twenty-pound dumbbell next to the patio chair and padded barefoot toward the swimming pool, the phone against her ear. "I'm sorry, Robert. I don't mean to b.i.t.c.h at you. You know I'm glad you're my agent-"

And that was true, too. The short, thin man on the other end of the phone had done more for Laura's career in just seven weeks than all her previous agents put together. Of course, the others hadn't seen much reason to put Robert's kind of effort into her career. (Well, except for poor Adam. She hopedRobert's predecessor was recovering okay inMiami .) "-Iknowthere's nothing you can do about the strike-"

The voice on the other end interrupted her for the third time in two minutes. Laura clicked the phone back to the second line, where the reporter fromPeoplewaited. "Sorry, Tony. What was the question?

Oh, right. Sure,Xora: Avenger Priestesswasn't how I expected my ship to come in, but I was happy to hop on board when it pulled into port two years ago. My agent-I mean, mypreviousagent, Adam Duchowski, helped me land the role-" She didn't add that since then the syndicated TV series had moved her out of her tiny overpriced apartment and into this house in the Hollywood hills and this swimming pool she was pacing back and forth alongside. "Hold on another sec, Tony, sorry-"

Click. "Yes, Robert, I'm listening. Sure, you know I appreciate you. h.e.l.l, you're a miracle-worker-Yeah, I saw it. Came today," She edged her toes beneath a poolsideTV Guideand with a deft kick somersaulted it into her waiting hand. Its cover displayed Laura's (rather, Xora: Avenger Priestess's) thick night-black hair, toned sword-wielding arms, and photogenic devil-may-care smile.

"Says here I'm 'at 29, the hottest, buffest new star since Linda Hamilton' and that I've been invited to a half-dozenXoraconventions across theU.S. andEngland . Seems that thousands of total strangers on Web sites and something called alt.fan.xora know more about each episode than I do." She read dramatically: " 'Her just-revealing-enough-for-primetime costume has becoming a fashion fad at clubs and so-called scene parties where leather and chainmail are worn by people who don't necessarily slay semi-convincing monsters and defeat tyrannical overlords on a weekly basis-' "

Good thing Terry wasn't into that kinky stuff, much. Dear Terry. Laura enjoyed the parts of their life together that were plain old "vanilla." Well, vanilla with nuts and strawberry syrup, perhaps. Lately, though...(Heart to brain: new subject, p.r.o.nto!)"You're my agent, Robert, so how come you never tell me about those conventions?"

Click. "Hi, Tony, you still there? Overnight success? Well, yeah, if you consider overnight being six years of cattle-call auditions, TV movie bit parts, and one year as the 'official spokesmodel' for ExerTan-the only aerobics workout machine and tanning booth in one!-infomercials. Adam saved my life by getting me out of that one-"

Funny thing about Adam, his having that breakdown and quitting the business so suddenly. That was less than two months ago. Good thing Robert Goldfarb had appeared out of nowhere to pick up the pieces and take her on. The wiry ball of energy in the loud suit, gaudy jewelry, and slicked-back hair had been on the sound-stage when word about Adam arrived. He handed her his card, took her to lunch, and displayed a persuasive Type-A personality. Before she knew it she had signed a bottom line with R. P.

Goldfarb Talent Agency. Poor, stressed-out Adam. She hoped he was okay in hisFlorida condo. How come bad things happened in groups?

Click. "What? Yes, Rob, I know the writers have joined the other unions and you can't do a thing about that-"

Heart to mouth: bad move. Terry was a writer hoping to make that One Big Score. With talent to spare, but too d.a.m.n stubborn to play theHollywood game. Terry had, instead, that One Big Weakness that could keep a writer waiting tables at Sunset and Crescent for the past two years: integrity. Integrity to a vision. Integrity to self. Hardly cardinal virtues oft rewarded byHollywood success. With the frustration that caused on top of everything else in their lives-How long had it been since they'dreallymade love, vanilla or any other flavor?Heart to chest muscles: squeeze! She scrunched her eyes shut at the still-fresh memory of Terry stepping out the door and saying softly, sadly, "I'll call you later." During the past threedays, every time Laura's phone rang, it had been Robert on the other end.Brain to heart: knock it off, you jerk!

"-Yeah, the trades are printing as many rumors as they are union proposals. Christ, what if SAG really does pull the plug too? That's the last thing this town needs: more out-of-work actors, with me along with them. h.e.l.l, Rob-"Click. "-After a month of no shooting, the whole seasons schedule is shot to h.e.l.l, the execs are panicking, negotiations are stalled, and the sponsors are pulling out faster than a teenage boy without a condom. I hate not knowing when I'll be working again. No, wait-Tony? Jesus, you weren't supposed to hear all that-"Click. "No, Rob, I know you didn't call just to hear me complain. It's these d.a.m.n strikes, that's all-"Click. "-Plus after a year and a half, Terry just up and decides that I'm more involved with my career than my personal hie or anyone in it. Says I get distracted from the important details. Wha-? Tony? Aah! I'm sorry. You didn't hear that.Don't write it down!"

Click. "You've been saying you're going to do something about it for four weeks! What can you do?

You're just an agent, for Chrissakes! No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Stop it, Rob. It's just that...

Oh, come on! You know I-Yeah, well, fine. Call me later. I've certainly got nothing better to wait for!"

Click.

"G.o.ddammit s.h.i.t b.a.s.t.a.r.d h.e.l.l! No, not you, Tony, sorry. Look, I've got to go. My jujitsu coach just arrived with my monogrammed hari kari knives. Bye."

She wanted to slam the receiver into its cradle-hard. But the G.o.dd.a.m.n cell phone made a most unsatisfyingsnickas she closed it. So she threw the phone across the pool. It struck the marble wall on the far side and exploded into a spray of plastic and metal pieces. Some landed in the pool.L.A. 's eternally clear, blue, afternoon sky reflected peacefully in the little ripples that spread across the waters surface.

Laura screeched between clenched teeth, collapsed into a deck chair, and cried. What she wanted more than anything else in the world-more than an end to the sudden chain of strikes that was crippling her work, more than her hope thatXorawould be a stepping stone to even better roles and career peaks, more than even her life-long dream of making it big, really big-was to feel Terry's soothing, steady hands rubbing her shoulders. Their own familiar rhythm: first the left shoulder, then the right, then both, then down...

"Shake it off, toots! We got work to do!"

She leaped to her feet, spun toward the voice, and prepared to kick a groin or sprint toward safety.

No one was there. No intruder. No one who could have produced that gravelly, gruff male voice.

Maybe he was hiding behind that mirror.

Where had that full-length, oval mirror come from? And why was it floating unsupported above the tiles near the exercycle?

"h.e.l.lo?" she called.

"Wait just an orc-schtupping minute," replied the sandpaper voice.

Laura stepped cautiously toward the mirror, keeping the door to the house accessible on her right. She had another phone just inside, with 911 set on the autodialer. The mirror was as tall as she was and defied gravity above the deck tiles in exactly the same way her bathroom mirror couldn't. She positioned herself so she could see her reflection in its perfectly flat, clean surface. She'd gained a bit in the waist lately...

"Oh, do let's get on with it," complained another voice from the mirror. This one was high and clipped.

"We haven't much time. You're holding it upside down!" With an accent like Cary Grant's.

"I'm doing the best I can," bellowed the first. "So shut your gob, ya green pointy-eared fruit!"

"Enough!" a third demanded-a woman's voice, strong and clear. "I gaveyouthe stone, goblin, because youinsisted on being be the first through the worldveil. Quickly, fool! One stone cannot part the veil for long!"

"Yes, forgive me, Mistress," acquiesced Voice #1. "I forget how you told me to hold it. Oh. My thanks, kind Mistress."

From the reflection of Lauras bare belly, a curly-haired head poked out of the mirror and into theHollywood sunshine. The head was attached to a squat, business-suited man who stepped out of the mirror and approached her. His bare, hairy feet slapped the tiles like hams. Though no more than three feet tall, the muscular form beneath his rumpled brown suit suggested he could easily bench-press as much as she did.

L.A.does things to a person. After eight years here, Laura had become immune to certain types of shocks.

His swarthy hands clasped a crystal as big as his potato-shaped nose. It (the crystal) glowed with a fiery blue aura. He slipped it into a jacket pocket, stepped forward, and sandwiched Laura's right hand between both of his, shaking it roughly.

"Gurack Thornhollows the name," he said. "Glad to finally meet you." With a silvery sparkle, a lit cigar appeared in his hand. It smelled imported. The little exec-thing began pacing the swimming pool and gesturing emphatically.

"I'll get right to the point, sweetheart. You're marvelous, kid, simply marvelous! Obviously a newbie, but still the best thing this show has going for it." He stepped out over the pool, hovered above the water for a beat, then pivoted and marched back toward her. "With me as producer and director, we're gonna take this series right to the top, straight to Number One! Y'know what I'm saying? I've got the best writers and the best talent working for me. Y'know why? Because I'm the best-and I only work with the best! You and me, kid, we're goin' places!Xora'salready the hottest ratings smash between Tir na n-Og and Avalon, and now with pan-dominion cablespells we can finally crack that rural orcish market! I tell ya, baby, we're goin' to the top! First, though, we need to make a few changes-"

"Oh, do not bore her to death before we've even made our proposal," exclaimed the Cary Grantesque voice. Its owner stepped (or floated?) out of the mirror-a body lithe, ethereal, and clearly belonging to a world other than Poolside L.A.

"You're an elf," Laura exclaimed, her hands rushing to her mouth in reflex astonishment. Delicate and elegant, its presence made her think of green sun-dappled glades and rings of courtly spirits gathering by moonlight. Things she had never seen before. "How-how do I know that?"

" 'Elf is a better word than many," sniffed the being. He stepped hautily past the first visitor-a goblin,she suddenly knew-and appraised his new surroundings disapprovingly. "I prefer 'Elder People of Faerie' myself," he said, curling his lip exactly like the snooty maitre d' at Andrico's. "Though I am aware that I am in the minority on the issue. As to how you know that, I gave you the knowledge beforehand, immediately before stepping through the veil. I also soothed the fear that was building within you. You will find that it speeds communication. And we have much to discuss with precious little time."

"Cut to the chase, leaves-for-brains," barked the goblin. He took Laura's hand and tried to pull her aside. She pulled back, hard, causing the little grotesque to stumble. "Hey, nice grip there, sweets," he said, letting go. "I like that." Then sotto voce: "Don't let greenie there bother you. He's been p.i.s.sed at this world ever since he saw those Keebler commercials. Ha!"

The elf crossed his arms and rolled his eyes blueward. "Oh, please!"

"Cease the prattle, underlings!" thundered the woman's voice. "Speak to our good lady with respect and deference. She is an artist and a professional, not a servant pixie. And we need her willing services."

The source of the voice stepped out of the mirror. A woman, all right. But Laura couldn't imagine even Joan of Arc radiating the powerful presence this woman exuded. She was, in a word, striking. Six feet tall. Lean yet powerfully muscled. Her bronze skin all but shimmered with inner vitality. The only marks on otherwise smooth, tanned flesh were a few pale scars branding her forearms and left thigh. A mane of auburn hair cascaded about her shoulders, encircled on her forehead by a jeweled coronet. One hand was wrapped around the hilt of a polished sword hanging on her hip. If her gleaming leather-and-metal outfit, particularly those rune-embossed gold hemispheres cupping her impressive b.r.e.a.s.t.s, was as heavy as it looked, she didn't betray any sign of it.

For the first time in her career, Laura felt flabby and puny by comparison. Still, there was something...

soft about this woman.Goodsoft. Maternal perhaps. Aged. Experienced. Though she wore a body that looked little older than Lauras, her clear green eyes and wise face betrayed a maturity that Laura only hoped to one day achieve. She was who Xora wanted to grow up to be.

"I am Nnagartha of the Golden Strength," the woman proclaimed. "Favored sword of Finvarra, King of Eirinn Faerie. It was I who defeated the dragon Ruadherra and the Black Wizard Tyrkobal; who led the centaur armies and won the heart of the mighty Ton n'Uthara during battles against the Dark Hordes-"

Laura squinted in the sunlight glinting off those b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "-Who led the Daoine Sidhe against the Fir Bolg on the Plain of Pillars, and who instructs the young ones of Faerie in stories of the stars and the quiet power of the cool, watchful moon."

Everyone in this town has a resume. "Okay. a.s.suming you're not a delayed hallucination triggered by something slipped to me at Jay Leno's party last week, why are you-" Laura spread her arms to include the s.p.a.ce from pool to exercycle to towel rack. "-here?"

"Because, Lady, our long quest led us to you." Something in her voice darkened. Her hands clenched into fists that would probably pulp Brazil nuts. "From the Fortress of Power beneath King Finvarra's palace, one of our land stole the sacred veilstone, a crystal from the Mountains of Darkness. It has the power to part the veil between worlds, to open a... a pa.s.sage twixt realms." She indicated the mirror.

"The stone was used to enter this world. It has taken us a long journey to find another. Now we must entreat your help to finally capture the thief."

Or was it Letterman's bash? That Barrymore chick was awfully chummy that night. "Why me?"

"The trickster who eludes us has targeted you, and through you he seeks his revenge against what youhave done for the folk of Faerie. So through you we shall find him."

"Who's 'targeted' me? And for what? What have I done to... to..."

"The folk of Faerie."

"Whoever!"

"You have, in fact, done a great deal for the many who populate the world that split from this earthly realm so many centuries ago." Leather creaked and metal flashed as the woman circled Laura like a teacher sizing up a potential pupil. "You have brought them pleasure, excitement, and a new thirst for adventures and legend-spinning. Many of our realm, particularly the young ones, have not experienced such things for a long time. Not since the last of the Dark Hordes were vanquished, and the final Black Wizard dissolved into misty eternity. You, Xora, have renewed the memories of our glorious former days!"

"Xora? I'm not Xora. That's just a part I play!"

"We know that, of course. Yet it is a part we love in a drama that captures-albeit crudely and imperfectly-the spirit of our kingdom."

"You mean you watchXorain... wherever you come from?"

The goblin tossed his cigar into the pool, where it sizzled and vanished. "Listen, babe.Xora: Avenger Priestessis the hottest thing to hit the Golden Realm since the bards' festival allowed the rude limerick contest. You're a hit, and everyone wants more of it!"

Nnagartha raised a finger. The goblin shut up. "You see," she said, "I am not unacquainted with this world, and the energies that carry your staged enactments through the ether can pierce the veil between this world and ours. With some difficulty, and after much debate, I convinced the Mages Guild to conjure receiving boxes so that we too might see and hear the images that freely flow through the veil."

"You watch TV in Fairyland?"

Nnagartha looked pained. "Simply Faerie, Lady. And ithasbeen a long time of peace." She gazed wistfully into the pool, lost in memories Laura could never imagine.

"Your little play-acting," said the elf, "is the most popular such... program in our realm. Though, I must say, I rather prefer more substantial fare. Travel doc.u.mentaries, for example. But the common folk clamber for moreXora: Avenger Priestess, and no new tales have been forthcoming for more than a lunar cycle. All we-they-receive are... oh, what is that word you have?"

"Reruns," Nnagartha said.

"Thank you, my Mistress. Lady Laura, we are here to help you create more of these adventure tales, though this time we shall help you do them with greater, shall we say, accuracy."

"Greateraccuracy?"

"More realistic. Truer to life." The elf's posture stiffened even more-exactly like that maitre d' at Andrico's. "Really, Lady, even you must admit that the centaurs in that one episode looked rather, to put.i.t delicately, unconvincing. Our own centaur forces are presently awaiting their first cue. And your roc!

Oh, dear... if I had a sense of humor I would have doubled over laughing at its clearly artificial claws.

And all the magic-users thus far portrayed obviously know nothing of a real mage's art. That's not to mention the shoddy dragons-"

"Enough, my a.s.sistant," admonished Nnagartha. The elf bit his lower lip, silently.

"Flowerhead's right," exclaimed the goblin. He adjusted his tie into an even less attractive position.

"There's been noXorafor weeks now, and we're here to help out."

"Well, of course there's been noXora," Laura countered. "Everyone's on strike!"

"Not a prob, babe. I got writers, crews, and supporting cast waiting to jump in and save the show and your shapely a.s.s."

Laura pivoted and stamped away. "No way! This is too unbelievable. I half-expect Kathy Lee Gifford to jump out of the bushes and tell me I'm onAmericas Weirdest Home Videos."

"But you must." Nnagartha was now insistent. "The veilstone is gone and the thief has escaped to this world. You have no idea of the danger the two together represent. There are reasons why the realms were separated and the stones kept carefully guarded."

"Yeah, right! Your security system was clearly burglar-proof. Why drag me into your little s.n.a.t.c.h-and-run?"

"He did itbecauseof you! He hatesXora. He hates you! With the power remaining within the stone, he has the ability to shape the wills of others. There's a reason why the strikes are happening all at the same time. His next plan is to spread scandalous stories about you to sabotage your career."

Laura spun to face her. "What? How do you know that?"

"We know this malfeasant. It is his way. Also, he boasted of his plans to drinking companions. No one took him seriously until we discovered the veilstone missing and read the taunting note he left behind. He has done this sort of thing before. You, unfortunately, are his latest victim. So youmusthelp us capture him." She waved her hand in an odd pattern. The mirror changed. It was now a window open onto a vast meadow. In the distance, gentle green hills became immense mountains laced with waterfalls. Between the window and the mountains, perhaps ten miles away or a hundred, a shimmering city of golden domes and jewel-hued spires reflected the same sun that shone on Lauras bare back inL.A. Like Judy Garland's Oz, complete with Technicolor.

Nnagartha gave Laura a generous moment to take in the view. "We ask you to follow us through the veil and-"

"What? Me step through there?"

"There, in Oberon's Green, we shall create a new episode ofXora. My people will provide all that is needed to perform, record, and broadcast the story throughout Faerie. The magic released during this will attract the malefactor, bring him out of hiding. Then we shall capture him. Afterward you may return here with all the afflictions he has brought upon you undone and gone."