Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming

"This," Rognir said, "is a work wheel. You walk inside it and it turns, and through a series of gears, it moves a wheel that turns rods and finally operates machinery in one of the upper chambers."

"Interesting," Azzie said. "But so what?"

"You are expected to walk on the wheel, thus turning it.

"You are expected to walk on the wheel, thus turning it. You will thus help us work and you will pay off your debt that way. It should only take a few hundred years."

"Forget it," Azzie said.

"Suit yourself," Rognir said. "All right, boys, open the sluice gate."

There was a grinding sound from overhead. Then some­thing started falling from above him. It was a rain of excrement, as Azzie's nose quickly told him. But it was not ordinary human or demonic excrement. Azzie had spent plenty of time handling that. This was excrement of an orduosiry so extreme that his nasal receptors tried to commit hara-kiri.

"What is that stuff?" he cried.

"Aged fermented dragon shit," Rognir told him. "We're close to a dragon's lair, and we've tapped it from the bottom as an incentive for you to go to work."

Azzie's feet started moving of their own accord. The wheel turned. After a moment, the rain of dragon shit stopped.

"The way it works," Rognir said, "the dragon shit starts when you stop treading, and continues until you start up again."

"But what about rest periods?" Azzie asked.

"We'll tell you when you can rest," Elgar said, and the other dwarves laughed.

"But listen to me! I've got important things to do! You must let me out of here so I can make arrangements! I'll pay you back - "

"You will indeed," Rognir said. "In kind or in labor. Check with you later, demon."

And so the dwarves departed. Azzie was left alone, pump­ing and thinking desperate thoughts.

Chapter 12

Azzie walked, turning the wheel, a

"Hi, there," a voice said. "Are you a demon?"

"Who's talking to me?"

"Look down near your right foot and you'll see me."

Azzie looked down and saw a worm about six inches long.

"You're a worm?"

"Yes, I'm a worm. You're a demon?"

"That is correct. And if you can help me, I can offer you a deal you can't turn down."

"What is that?" the worm asked.

"If you'll help me get out of here, I'll make you king of the worms."

"Actually, we worms don't have a king. We have district leaders, and a high council."

"I'll put you in charge of the council."

"First I have to become a district leader in order to become eligible."

"So all right, I'll make you a district leader. What's your name?"

"Elton Wormbrood. But my friends call me Tom."

"Okay, Tom, what about it? Will you help me?"

"I might. It's been pretty quiet down here. I just might help you in order to relieve the tedium. Then again, I might not."

"Well, which is it going to be?"

"I'm not sure. Don't rush me. We worms are kind of sluggish thinkers."

"Sorry. Take your time... . Have you had enough time yet?"

"No, I haven't even begun to think about it."

Azzie controlled his impatience. "All right, take all the time you want. Call me when you've decided."

The worm didn't reply.

"Is that all right?" Azzie asked.

"Is what all right?"

"That you'll tell me when you've made up your mind."

"That sounds all right," the worm said. "But don't get your hopes up."

"Don't worry about it. I'll wait."

And so Azzie began to wait and continued turning the wheel. He could hear the worm moving very softly about the chamber, now on the surface, now burrowing under the earth and rock. Time passed. Azzie couldn't tell how much time. It felt like an awful lot of it. What was a

It felt wonderful. But a

"I'm still thinking," the worm said.

"That's good," Azzie answered. He lowered his head and got the cord from which the object hung up and over it. He lowered the object and touched it with his fingertips, first re­tracting his claws for better tactile contact. It seemed to be a key. Yes, it was a key! Azzie remembered now. He had kept a spare key to the castle hanging about his neck, where it would be safe no matter how many times he changed his clothing. It was a common sort of key, and it had a small red gem set into its handle. And inside the gem, he remembered now, there was a small spell that he had put there and forgotten about.

He said to the spell, "What is your name and what do you do?"

A tiny voice from the red gem said, "I am Dirigan. I open doorways."

"Gee, that's great," Azzie said. "How about getting these bindings off me?"

"Let me take a look at them," Dirigan said.

Azzie passed the key over his manacled hands. The light within the jewel pulsed softly, throwing out a ruddy glow.

"I think I can do something about this." The jewel glowed more fiercely, then died out. The manacles fell open.

Azzie's hands came free. "Now, guide me out."

The worm lifted his blunt head and said, "I'm still thinking.

"I wasn't talking to you," Azzie said.

"Oh. Just as well. Because I still haven't made up my mind."

"What mind?" Azzie muttered. With his hands free he felt strong, capable of action again. He moved away from the wheel. Let the dragon shit rain down now! He was out of its way!

"Now," he said, "to find the way out. Spell, give me some light."

The jewel pulsed more brightly, throwing shadows across the cavern walls. Azzie walked until he came to a branching of the ways. There were five different directions he could go in. He asked the jewel, "What way should I head now?"

"How should I know?" said the jewel. "I'm just a minor spell. And now I'm used up."

The light faded out.

Azzie had heard about these underground branchings of the dwarves. They held great menace, for often the tu

He moved forward. He heard the worm rustle, then say, "That's not the right way."

Azzie stepped back. "What way should I go?"

"I still haven't made up my mind whether to help you or not."

"You'd better decide pretty soon," Azzie said. "The offer isn't open indefinitely."

"Oh, all right," Tom Wormbrood said. "I guess I'll help. Take the tu