Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming Part 9

"I guess we're in agreement on basics now," Merioneth said. "There are a few more refinements I can think of, stuff you might like, but it'd cost more."

"Never mind the refinements," Azzie said. "Just do what we've agreed upon. And quickly, please! I have other matters to attend to."

Merioneth called up a work crew and the demons started building the forest. They worked rapidly, thorough profession-als once they got moving. Some of the younger demons were obviously unaccustomed to manual labor. But the supervisors kept them up to the mark and things proceeded nicely.

As soon as the basic forest was in place, with the spells set up but not yet activated, the head work-crew demon left an underling to put in the shrubs and wildflowers and turned his attention to setting up the castle. Crews up in Limbo threw down the building blocks with gusto, and the demons below cursed and dodged and caught up the pieces and put them together. Piece by piece a high structure of crenellated walls and pointed turrets rose into the air. It was historically inac-curate but definitely of fairy-tale design. At this stage there were a few small mix-ups. When it came time to dig the moat around it, they found they lacked earth-moving equipment. A team of dragons was summoned and bribed with an offering of maidens. After they had dined, the dragons scooped out a fine moat, twenty feet wide, thirty feet deep. But of course there was no water in it, and no one seemed to know who was in charge of getting the water. Azzie finally solved the problem by ordering a weather spell from Supply and calling up a brief but very heavy rain. This, plus the water from the runoffs, did the trick nicely. A pair of swans added a touch of cla.s.s.

Soon the castle stood, tall and stately, a lofty collection of stone towers in the midst of domed shapes.

From the topmost towers bright banners floated in the breeze. The place was unfurnished, of course, and extremely drafty, because no one thinks of closing up the c.h.i.n.ks and gaps in magical castles. Azzie ordered furniture from Supply. There was a problem on how to light the place. He decided upon magical lighting, since it was difficult to see anything with oil lamps.

At last it was all together. Azzie stood back a few hundred yards and admired. It was a castle that Mad King Ludwig would have loved. It would do.

Azzie returned to the mansion to finish work on the princ.i.p.als. The bodies looked fine now in their vats, all seams faded. The ichor and spells had done their work to perfection. But the bodies had no intelligence as yet, since that comes last, and they did some strange things as one part of the body or another came to life. Azzie worked to stabilize them and, at last, had them set up properly.

Then Frike pointed out that both creatures were still blind.

"You're right," Azzie said. "I was saving that for last."

He sat and remembered Ylith. Yes, he'd saved that for last.

Chapter 4

Azzie liked witches. He considered them a sort of per-manent dating pool where a demon could always find a companion for a Sat.u.r.day night. Back in those days, Witches' Sabbaths were the primeval form of nightclub.

"Frike! Bring me chalk! Candles!"

Frike hurried to the pantry where the magic supplies were stored. There, in a stout chest, he found the things Azzie needed. The candles were as thick as a man's wrist, and they stood almost as high as Frike himself. He bundled five of them under his arm, one for each point of the pentagram. The candles were as hard as petrified flesh and slightly greasy to the touch. Frike brought them and the chalk to the front room. Azzie moved the trestle table out of the way. He had taken off his cloak and doublet. Long muscles gleamed under his s.h.i.+rt as he tugged an extra suit of armor into a corner.

"I don't know why I keep all this junk around," Azzie said. "Give me the chalk, Frike. I'll inscribe the figure myself."

Azzie bent low and, lump of chalk in his right hand, in-scribed a large five-sided figure on the stone floor.

A ruddy glow from the fireplace outlined his figure, tinging it red, ac-centuating his foxlike look. Frike almost expected to see Azzie's legs change into the furry red legs of a fox. But despite his excitement, Azzie retained his human shape. He had worked on it for a long time, since demons of experience take great pains to shape their human forms to suit their self-ideals.

Frike watched as Azzie inscribed the Hebrew letters of power, then lighted the candles.

"Ylith!" Azzie intoned, crossing his claws and genuflecting in a manner that hurt Frike's eyes. "Come to me, Ylith!"

Frike could see the beginning of movement in the center of the pentagram. The candles gave off coiled streamers of colored smoke. These danced up and down, coalesced, gave off bright sparks, then settled into a solid shape.

"Ylith!" he cried. But it was not. The being in the penta-gram was a woman, but there all resemblance to the Ylith he remembered ceased. This was a short, stout female with orange hair and a hooked nose.

This female crossed her arms and glared at Azzie.

"What do you want?" she asked severely. "I was just leav-ing for my coven meeting when you conjured me. If I hadn't been caught by surprise, I would have canceled your spell, which was wrongly cast anyhow."

"You're not Ylith, are you?" Azzie asked.

"I'm Mylith," the witch replied.

"From Athens?"

"Copenhagen."

"I'm dreadfully sorry," Azzie said. "I was trying to conjure up Ylith from Athens. The Spirit Exchange must have gotten things mixed up."

Mylith sniffed, rubbed out one of Azzie's Hebrew char-acters, and scribbled in another. "You had the wrong exchange. Now, if there is nothing more . . . ?"

"I'll be happy to conjure you back to your home," Azzie said. "I'll do it myself," Mylith said. "No telling where your charm would land me!"

She made a gesture with both hands and vanished.

"That was embarra.s.sing," Azzie remarked.

"I think it amazing," Frike said, "that you can conjure anything. My last master, the demon Throdeus, was quite un-able to conjure at all on Sat.u.r.days."

"Why, do you suppose?" Azzie said.

"He had been an Orthodox rabbi before becoming a demon," Frike said.

Again he conjured. Again colored smokes coiled in the center of the pentagram. But this time, when they coalesced, instead of a short, ugly orange-haired witch standing in the pentagram, there was a tall, good-looking black-haired witch in a silk shorty nightgown.

"Ylith!" Azzie cried.

"Who is it?" the witch asked, rubbing her eyes. "Azzie? Is it really you? My dear, you should have sent a messenger first. I was sleeping."

"Is that a sleeping garment? " Azzie asked, for through and around the peach-colored diaphanous garment he could see her plump and well-shaped b.r.e.a.s.t.s and, by walking around her, get a look at her rosy bottom, too.

"Shorty nightgowns are the newest sensation in Byzan-tium," Ylith said. "I don't suppose they will catch on in Europe. Not soon, anyhow." She stepped out of the pentagram. "It is wonderful seeing you, Azzie, but I really need some clothes."

"I've seen you in less than that," Azzie said.

"I know, but this is not one of those times. And your loutish servant is staring at me! I must have a wardrobe, Azzie!"

"And so you shall!" Azzie cried. "Frike!"

"Yes, master?"

"Get into the pentagram."

"Master, I really don't think - "

"Don't think. Just do it."

Grumbling, Frike hunched his way into the center of the pentagram.

"I'm sending you to Athens. Pick up all the lady's garments you can. I'll bring you back in a few minutes."

Ylith said, "There's a fur-collared deep blue dress in the anteroom. It's the one with three-quarter-length sleeves. Please be sure to bring that! And in the little closet near the kitchen you'll find-"

"Ylith!" Azzie said. "We can bring more clothing later, if there proves to be a need. Right now I'm in just the slightest hurry."

Raising his hands, Azzie recited a spell. Frike vanished in mid-grumble.

"Well now," Ylith said. "We are alone. Azzie, why didn't you call me sooner? It's been centuries!"

"I was in the Pit. Lost track of time," he explained.

He escorted Ylith to the big couch that was pulled up to the fire. He brought her wine and a plate of little cakes he knew she liked. They settled down onto the couch, and Azzie em-ployed one of his minor music spells to call forth a chorus of popular airs of the day. He sat down beside her and looked deep into her eyes.

"Ylith," he said, "I have a problem."

"Tell me about it," Ylith said.

Azzie did, forgetting Frike for several hours, so earnest was his explanation. When he finally conjured Frike back, it was dawn, and the servant arrived yawning, draped in ladies' clothing.

Chapter 5.

Azzie took Ylith to the lab where Charming and Scarlet, now entirely a.s.sembled, lay side by side on marble slabs, veiled with two linen tablecloths, since Azzie had often observed that people look better slightly clad than not clad at all.

"They make a cute couple, don't they?" Azzie said.

Ylith sighed. Her long, mobile face was beautiful one mo-ment, sinister the next. Azzie tried to adjust his perception so that he would see only her beautiful side, but it was difficult; witches have obscure feature cyclings. Azzie had felt ambivalent about Ylith for a long time. Sometimes he thought he loved her; sometimes he hated her. Sometimes he tried to solve the problem by attacking it head-on; sometimes he preferred to forget it in favor of simpler problems, such as how best to spread evil and further the general bad. Sometimes - a lot of the time - he didn't know what to do. He loved her but he didn't always like her. But she was also his best friend, and when he had a problem he turned to her.

"They're real cute," Ylith agreed, "except for the lack of eyes. But you know that."

"It's why I'm showing them to you," Azzie said. "I've already told you that I'm going to enter them in the Millennial contest. They are going to act out the Prince Charming tale, entirely on their own, no urging from me, utilizing the famous free will that all intelligent creatures are said to possess. And they are going to come to the wrong conclusion and condemn themselves forever. But I need eyes for them, not just any eyes: special eyes. I need enchanted eyes. I need them in order to give the story that special air, that flavor, that fairy-tale savor- if you know what I mean."

"I understand perfectly, my dear," Ylith said. "And you want me to help? Oh, Azzie, you are such a child! What gave you the idea that I would find eyes for you?"

Azzie hadn't considered that. He scratched his scalp - scaly-that's what the Pit did to you every time-and consid-ered. He said, "I thought you'd do it because it's the right thing to do. I mean, you want evil to win as much as I do, don't you? Consider if good rules human destiny for the next thousand years: it could put you out of business."

"You have a point," Ylith said. "But it is not entirely persuasive. Why should I help you? I do have a life of my own, and other business in progress. I'm into administrative work for the coven, and I've been doing some teaching. . . ."

Azzie took a mental breath, the kind he always took before embarking on one of his really big lies. As he drew in that mental breath his genius and all his faculties took heed and helped him into the role he knew was needed.

"Ylith," he said, "it's very simple. I love you."

"Oh, really!" she said, scornfully, but not closing off the conversation. "That's rich! Tell me more!"

"I have always loved you," Azzie said.

"You sure acted like it, didn't you?" Ylith said.

"I can explain why I never called," Azzie said.

"I'll just bet!" Ylith said, waiting.

"There were two reasons," Azzie said, not knowing at the moment what they were but saying there were two in case one wasn't enough.

"Yes? Let's hear them!"

"I've already told you I was in the Pit."

"And you couldn't even send a postcard? I've heard that 'I was in the Pit' excuse before!"

"Ylith, you must simply believe me. There are some things a man can't speak about. But take my word for it, things came up. I could explain if there were time, but the important thing is, I love you; the bad enchantment has ended at last, and we can be together again, just as you have always wanted and as I secretly have wanted, too, though I said otherwise."

"What enchantment?" Ylith said.

"Did I mention an enchantment?"

"You said, 'Now the bad enchantment has ended.' "

"I said that? You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!"

"Well, I shouldn't have," Azzie said. "One condition for ending the bad enchantment was that I never speak about it. I just hope we haven't set it off again."

"What bad enchantment?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Ylith drew herself up to her full height and glared at him. He was really the most impossible demon.

Demons are expected to lie, of course, but even the worst would occasionally tell the truth. It's almost impossible not to tell the truth sometimes, by accident. Except for Azzie. But that was not because he had a lying heart. No, it was because he was trying so hard to be really bad. She couldn't help but feel for him. He still appealed to her. And it was not the amusing season in Athens.

"Promise you'll never leave me again," she said.

"I promise," Azzie said. Then, realizing that he had ca-pitulated too soon, added, "Under normal conditions, that is."

"What do you mean, normal conditions?"

"Conditions that are not abnormal."