Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming Part 20

"But what if he doesn't drop it?"

"Your own hands can help you," Ylith said. "Especially the left one."

Scarlet looked at her hands. The left one, the pickpocket's hand, was slightly smaller than the right one, and looked, she didn't know how to say it, somehow moreAy than its near mate.

"What is it about my left hand? I can see it's small and I suppose dainty. But what of it?"

"That hand has a skill for getting what you need."

"And if I had the card?"

"Why then," Ylith said, "you could call up a ballroom gown and get an order through to the Enchanted Ball Caterers. Then you could go to the ball, so long as you came straight back."

"Why are you telling me these things?"

Ylith looked away.

"Anger and pity, my dear," she said at length. "The first is a strength and the second a weakness. So think of it mainly as the first. And it is time that you learned about b.a.l.l.s. And free will."

She patted Princess Scarlet's hand, which half succeeded in removing a jeweled ring as she was about it.

"Yes," she continued. "The h.e.l.l with Azzie." And she smiled. "That's grace for you."

Chapter 6.

The next time Azzie came to call, Princess Scarlet was all smiles. She chattered about her dreams, which were the only interesting things in her daily life. She showed Azzie dance steps she remembered from before her death. She danced tempestuously, her little feet stamping on the floor in the figures of the Seguriyas, and she ended in a whirl of move-ment as she pirouetted across the room and collapsed into Az-zie's arms. "Let me embrace you, Uncle, you have done so much for me!"

Azzie felt her small pointy b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing into his chest, and thought not at all of what her clever little fingers were doing.

Ylith said, once she was alone with Scarlet, "Do you have it?"

Scarlet smiled, showing her even little teeth and the dim-ples in the corner of each cheek. She held up the black card. "Here it is!"

"Well done," Ylith said. "Now you have only to use it."

"Yes," Scarlet said, trying to stifle a yawn. "But what will I do about this d.a.m.nable napping spell?"

"Have a good stiff slug of ichor," Ylith replied. "I'll add a spell. You'll sleep three or four times longer than usual, then be awake another three or four times as long afterward."

Scarlet brightened.

"Hurry," she said.

Chapter 7.

The pumpkin coach glided upto the canopied reception area, moving silently on its radish wheels. The frog foot-man hopped out and opened the door for Scarlet. She stepped out, taking care not to mess her gown. It was a beautiful thing, pink tulle with a sprig of hyacinth, created especially for her by Michael of Perugia and charged to Azzie's account.

Uniformed attendants welcomed her and led her inside. The ballroom was a blaze of color and light. At the far end was the orchestra. Princess Scarlet was dazzled. Never had she seen a spectacle such as this.

It was like something out of a fairy tale, and the fact that she herself was something out of a fairy tale made it no less wonderful.

"You must be Princess Scarlet!" Scarlet was being ad-dressed by a radiantly beautiful young woman of about her own age.

"Are you Princess Cinderella?" Scarlet said.

"How did you recognize me? Do I have soot on my nose?"

"Oh, no ... I just a.s.sumed . . . having gotten your invi-tation. . . ." Scarlet was filled with confusion, but Cinderella laughed and put her at ease. "It was just my little jest! I am so glad you could come. I heard you are under a sleeping spell."

"Actually it's a napping spell. But how did you hear about it?"

"Word gets around in the domain of fairy tales," Cinderella said. "If you should need them, we have resting rooms upstairs, and a variety of stimulants if your spell responds to chemical means."

"No need," Scarlet said. "I was able to get a temporary rescindment."

"However you did it, I am very glad you could come. This is the debutante event of the season, you know. We have many eligible bachelors here, mostly of the n.o.bility, but also a few enterprising and famous commoners like Jack of the Beanstalk and Peer Gynt. Come, let me get you a gla.s.s of champagne and introduce you to some people."

Cinderella gave Scarlet a foaming gla.s.s of champagne and, taking her hand, led her around from one group of gorgeously dressed people to the next. Scarlet's head was awhirl, and the music - loud, rhythmic-was setting her dancer's toes to tap-ping. She was pleased when a tall, dark, handsome man in a gold lame suit and crimson turban asked her to dance.

They whirled around the dance floor. The turbaned man introduced himself as Achmed Ali. He was a fine dancer, con-versant with the newest steps. Scarlet had a dancer's quick instinct for dance steps, and so she soon found herself doing the straddle duck, the limping elbow, the pigmy hop, the de-lirious dogleg, and the double wolverine, all dance sensations of that eventful year of the Millennium. Achmed Ali seemed to float across the floor, matching her consummate skill with his own scarcely inferior efforts.

The other dancers moved back to clear a s.p.a.ce for them, so obviously superior were they to the common lot. The orchestra segued intoSwan Lake, so balletic was the spectacle before them. Around and around Scarlet and Achmed whirled while the trumpets blasted and the steel guitars whined, turning ever more daring pas de deux, whirling, tap-ping, stamping, as the applause mounted. At last, for the finale, Achmed Ali danced her out of the ballroom and onto a little balcony.

The balcony overlooked a little lake. The moon had just risen, and little silvery ripples moved slowly toward the dark sh.o.r.e. Princess Scarlet fanned herself with the Chinese fan that Supply had provided and, turning to Achmed Ali, said in formal tones, "Belike, sir, I've not seen thy match for overall all-in dancing eftsoons."

"Nor I thine," Achmed answered gallantly. His face, which was spread neatly along either side of his hawk nose, had firm, finely cut lips of pale pink behind which teeth of a nacreous white could be seen when he smiled or lifted his lip in the small sneer with which he expressed emotion. He told Scarlet that he was a prince from the court of the Grand Turk, whose lands stretched from the misty frontier of eastern Turkestan to the sea-shrouded coastline of hither Asia. He described the splendor of the Grand Turk's palace, which had so many rooms that they were uncountable save by those skilled in mathematical necromancy. He told her of the palace's main features, the carp ponds, the mineral springs, the great library where could be found writings from all over the world. He mentioned the kitch-ens where delicacies of unusual splendor were prepared every day for the delectation of the ensemble of happy and talented young people who made up the court. He told her how she would dazzle all of the beauties of that court with the previously unheard-of splendor of her delicate and finely proportioned features. He declared that he, despite their short acquain-tanceship, was utterly and entirely smitten with her, and begged her to accompany him so he could show her the splendors of the Grand Turk's domain and, if she so desired, stay on for a while. He described the luxurious presents that he would shower on her, and he went on in that vein and similar veins and tendentious arteries of teasing promises for so long that the Princess' head was turned and turned again.

"I would like to go with you and see these things," Princess Scarlet said. "But I promised my aunt that I would return home immediately after the ball."

"No problem," Achmed said. He snapped his fingers. There was a flapping sound in the air, and Princess Scarlet beheld a large and luxurious Persian carpet which had come seemingly from nowhere and hovered now at the level of the balcony.

"This is a flying carpet," Achmed said. "It is a common means of transport in my land, and by utilizing it I can take you to the Grand Turk's court, show you around, and return you to this very spot before the evening is out."

"It is very tempting, "Scarlet said. "But I really shouldn't. ..."

Achmed Ali smiled a subtle smile of incredible attractive-ness and stepped from the balcony onto the carpet. He turned to Scarlet, extending his hand.

"Come with me, beautiful princess," he said. "I am crazy about you and I will show you a very good time and respect you throughout and I will have you back here in plenty of time to return to your esteemed aunt as you had originally planned."

Princess Scarlet knew she shouldn't. But the unexpected freedom, the temporary relief from the napping spell, the gran-deur of the ball, the mysterious and tantalizing presence of Achmed Ali, the gla.s.s of unaccustomed champagne, and the perfume of the Mater Delirium plant that grew beneath the balcony all combined to make her senses reel and cause a feeling of boldness to come over her. Scarcely knowing what she was doing, she accepted Achmed's hand and stepped onto the carpet.

Chapter 8.

Cinderella was just about to go to the sumptuous buffet and get herself another gla.s.s of champagne, and per-haps a plate of sherbet, too, when a footman came up to her, bowed low, and said, "There is a someone, Princess, who wishes to converse with you."

"A man?"

"A demon, I opine, though manlike for all of that."

"A demon," Cinderella mused. "I don't remember asking any demons."

"I believe he came on his own recognizance, Princess," said the footman, straining to find enough time to mention that he, the footman, was himself a prince in disguise.

"What does he want?"

"I do not know," the footman said, brushing his wrist against his luxuriant mustache. "He claims it is a matter of great importance."

This exchange might have gone on longer if at that moment Azzie hadn't come striding up with two doormen clinging to his coattails trying to restrain him.

Azzie gave a shrug that sent them sprawling, and said, "You are Cinderella?"

"Yes, I am."

"And this is your party?"

"Yes, it is. And in case you're thinking of crashing it, I have demons of my own whom I can call up at a moment's notice."

"It seems that you invited my niece, Princess Scarlet, to your festivities."

Cinderella glanced around. Several of the guests seemed to be taking an interest in the conversation, and the footman was still hanging around twirling his ridiculous mustache as he tried to insert himself and his bogus credentials into the pro-ceedings.

"Come over here to the secret bower," Cinderella said. "There we can talk quietly."

They walked to the bower.

"You can put your broomsticks in the corner," Cinderella said.

"I think I'll hold on to them. Enough small talk. Where's Scarlet?"

"Are you really her uncle? You shouldn't have left the child alone so long in that enchanted castle. I didn't think it would do any harm to invite her to my party."

"Where is she right now?" Azzie said, his foot tapping ominously.

Cinderella looked around, but she couldn't see Scarlet. She called over a footman - another one, not the one with the mus-tache-this one had a little goatee-and told him to find Prin-cess Scarlet.

In a moment the footman hurried back. "I am told she left with the turbaned gentleman, Achmed Ali."

Azzie turned to the footman. "How did they depart?"

"By flying carpet, milord."

Azzie rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. "And in what direction did they head?"

"Due east, milord."

"Do you know who this man is?" he asked Cinderella.

"He's a n.o.bleman from the courts of the Grand Turk, ruler of all Turkestan."

"Is that all you know?"

"Know you somethingal contrario?"

"Did he tell you his court position?"

"No, not specifically."

"He is the Chief Procurer for the Seraglio of the Grand Turk."

"How do you know this?"

"I make it my business to know such things," Azzie said.

"Procurer! Surely you don't mean - "

"I mean," Azzie said, "that Princess Scarlet is at this very moment being transported across international boundaries for purposes of white slavery and imperial prost.i.tution."

"I had no idea!" Princess Cinderella said. "Where is my grand vizier? Strike Achmed Ali's name from the guest list! Put a double line through it! My dear demon, I can't tell you how sorry I am-"

But she was talking to herself. Azzie had already leaped to the rail of the balcony and, pausing only to activate the brooms' drive mechanisms, soared off onto the ambient air, going east, due east.

Flying carpets are swift, powered as they are by the strongest spells of mighty djinns. But they are not aerodynamically ef-ficient and tend to be unstable. The leading edge of a carpet in flight invariably curls up like the front of a toboggan and pro-vides an airfoil that slows flight. Still, Achmed was making good time. As for Scarlet, she had started to think about her situation and found it a little less delicious than she had earlier. As she looked at Achmed, sitting tailor fashion at the carpet's controls, she noticed the cruel lines etched down his face, which somehow she had overlooked earlier, and the angry way his black mustache curled down and then back up again, termi-nating in needle-sharp waxed points. It occurred to her that she had been just a touch precipitous when she had accepted this invitation. It was only then that she thought about Prince Charming, her intended. He might even now be entering the enchanted castle.