Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

Ylith asked the dwarves whether a pair of Harpies had come by recently carrying two frozen people. The dwarves shook their heads irritably. Making and stuffing Christmas pres­ents is precision work, and if people talk to you, it spoils the rhythm. One of them jerked his head toward the back of the workshop. Ylith went that way and saw, at the end of the long room, a door with an inscription on it: SANTA'S OFFICE. She went there, knocked, entered.

Santa was a big, fat man with the sort of face that smiled easily. But looks don't always tell the story. Santa was frowning, and his face was long and drawn as he talked into a magical seashell.

"Hello, is this Supply? I need to talk to someone."

The answer came out of a baboon's head, stuffed and mounted on the wall.

"This is Supply. With whom am I speaking?"

"Claus here. Santa Claus."

"Yes, Mr. Claus. Are you authorized to speak to us here in Supply?"

"I guess you haven't heard of me," Santa Claus said. "I'm the one who brings presents around every December twenty-fifth by the new calendar."

"Oh, that Santa Claus! When do you start bringing pres­ents for demons?"

"I'm overworked enough bringing presents for humans," Santa Claus said. "I've got this problem-"

"Just a minute," the voice said. "I will co

Santa Claus sighed. He was on hold again. Then he noticed Ylith, who had just entered the room.

He blinked three times rapidly behind his little rectangular spectacles. "Goodness gracious! You're not a dwarf, are you?"

"No," Ylith said, "and I'm not a reindeer, either. But I'll give you a clue. I got here on a broomstick."

"Then you must be a witch!"

"You've got it."

"Are you going to bewitch me?" Santa asked, slobbering slightly as he perceived Ylith's charms, which had been brought into prominence by her windblown clothes. "I wouldn't mind being bewitched, you know. Nobody ever thinks of bewitching Santa Claus. As if I don't need a little cheering up from time to time, eh? Who brings Santa Claus presents, eh? Ever think of that? It's give, give, give all the time around here. But what do I get out of it?"

"Satisfaction. You bask in everybody's love."

"It's the presents they love, not me."

"The giver is part of the given," Ylith said.

Santa Claus paused and considered. "Do you really think so?"

"How could it be any other way?"

"Well, that's better, then. Might I inquire what you are doing here? There's never anyone but dwarves and reindeer around here. And me, of course."

"I came," Ylith said, "because I need to pick up some packages that were left for me here."

"Packages? What kind of packages?"

"One male, one female. Both humans. Both frozen solid. The Harpies brought them here."

"Oh, those terrible Harpies!" Santa said. "They've left the snow yellow for miles around!"

"What about the frozen people?"

"They're out in back, in the woodshed."

"I'll pick them up now," Ylith said. "Oh, and one thing more. There's a little girl on Earth named Brigitte Scrivener."

"Little dirty-faced kid with a saucy ma

"That's her. What I'd like you to do is bring her a dollhouse this year. The sort you usually only give to princesses. Filled with moving figures, wallpaper, radios, and other magical things."

"This kid was real good, eh?"

"Goodness had nothing to do with it," Ylith said. "She got a promise from a demon and this is part of the payoff."

"Why isn't the demon himself here to get it?"

"He had other stuff to do. You know how demons are."

Santa Claus nodded. "Okay, she'll get the present. Do you want me to take special care to make sure it gets a bit of good luck in it?"

Ylith thought it over carefully. "No, just give her whatever comes up. The dollhouse is enough. She'll have to take her chances on the luck it'll bring her just like anyone else."

"Sagely put," Santa said. "Now, before you go, let me give you a present."

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" Santa cried, tearing at his nether clothing.

"Thanks all the same," Ylith said, fending him off easily, "but I really don't need your gift now. Keep it for some other lucky lady."

"But no one ever comes this way!" Santa said. "It's only elves and reindeer!"

"Tough!" Ylith went to the woodshed. She carried out the bodies of Charming and Scarlet. They were both frozen stiff as logs and heavy as sin. Ylith had to call on all her witch strength to lift them.

"Send me one of your witch friends!" Santa shouted. "Tell her I give presents!"

"I'll tell them," Ylith said. "Witches love presents." And then she rose into the air, bearing Scarlet and Charming, head­ing for Azzie's mansion in Augsburg as fast as she could fly.

Chapter 2

Azzie was pacing nervously in the back courtyard when Frike said to him, "I think that's her, master!" He was pointing into the eastern sky.

As Azzie watched, Ylith appeared, flying slowly with four broomsticks, and carrying the two frozen bodies by ropes sus­pended from them.

"Careful how you put them down!" Azzie shouted as she soared in for a landing.

"Don't tell a witch how to ride a broomstick," Ylith said, elegantly setting down her burden near the door to the alchem­ical laboratory.

"At last!" Azzie said, hurrying over to look at the couple. "Took your time about getting here, didn't you?"

"Thanks a lot!" Ylith said. "Go fetch your own bodies next time. And get your own eyes!"

Azzie instantly changed his ma

"Just as you wish," Ylith said.

"That's great," Azzie observed when they were done with the Prince. "Now I just hope everything is ready at the castle. We'll go there at once."

And so they did. Ylith carried Scarlet, still rigid with cold, and Azzie, utilizing his considerable flying powers, followed carrying Frike and a sack of provisions and spells he thought he'd need.

"Get that fire going!" Azzie said to Frike, later, when they had taken up residence in the enchanted castle. They were in an upper story, where a chamber had been prepared for Prin­cess Scarlet. First, of course, they had to animate her.

"Have you got the eyes?" Azzie asked.

"Right here," Ylith said. "I got this set from Chodlos, the artist who painted her as the Magdalene."

"And for Prince Charming?"

"The eyes of Skander, the dragon."

"Very nice," Azzie said. "Why is it still so cold in here?"

Frike had been stoking the big fireplace in the bedchamber for over an hour, and the place was still cold. The stone walls seemed to absorb the heat. At this rate they'd never get Scarlet thawed out. They could see her in a rather distorted fashion through the bluish ice. Her features seemed to be at repose. Frike's stitches were not too noticeable. The dancer's legs he had attached to the trunk of the Magdalene model were stitched around the mid-thighs, but the stitching looked like a garter. Frike had some surprising skills.

But why did she take so long to thaw out? Was there a magical spell on this ice? Azzie poked at the ice with his claws and found that it had barely softened.

The fire still wasn't hot enough. Azzie had requisitioned room-warming spells quite a while ago, but they still hadn't come through. He repeated his request now, using the unlimited credit card to ensure instant delivery. In a moment there was a soft explosion in the air and a brand-new warming spell fell into the room, neatly encased in its opaque eggshell.