track record. No, I'd rather stick with the rat-pack I
know, however strange, than trust my fate to anyone
else, no matter how qualified they might seem. If any-
thing, from time to time I wonder what they think of me
and wish I could peek inside their heads to leam their
opinions. Whatever they think, they stick around . . .
and that's what counts.
It isn't the crew that makes me edgy ... it's the title.
You see, as long as I can remember, I've always thought
that being a leader was the equivalent of walking around
with a large bulls-eye painted on your back. Basically
the job involves holding the bag for a lot of people instead
of just for yourself. If anything goes wrong, you end up
being to blame. Even if someone else perpetrated the
foul-up, as the leader you're responsible. On the off
M.Y.T.H. INC. LINK 3
chance things go right, all you really feel is guilty for
taking the credit for someone else's work. All in all, it
seems to me to be a no-win, thankless position, one that
I would much rather delegate to someone else while I
had fun in the field. Unfortunately, everyone else seemed
to have the same basic opinion, and as the least experi-
enced member of the crew I was less adept at coming
up with reasons to dodge the slot than the others. Con-
sequently, I became the President of M.Y.T.H. Inc.
(That's Magical Young Trouble-shooting Heroes. Don't
blame me. I didn't come up with the name), an association
of magicians and trouble-shooters dedicated to simultane-
ously helping others and making money.
Our base of operations was the Bazaar at Deva, a
well-known rendezvous for magic dealing that was the
crossroads of the dimensions. As might be imagined, in
an environment like that, there was never a shortage of
work.
I had barely gotten settled for the morning when there
was a light rap on the door of my office and Bunny stuck
her head in.
"Busy, Boss?"
"Well . . ."
She was gone before I could finish formulating a vague
answer. This wasn't unusual. Bunny acted as my secre-
