Azzie did so. As soon as he entered it the ground gave way beneath his feet. He was falling. He just had time to scream, "But you said this one was safe!"

"I lied!" the worm cried. "Ha-ha!"

Azzie was falling, falling.

But it was only a short drop. Five feet perhaps. And to his right was a metal door, marked with a faintly phosphorescent EXIT.

Cursing, he pushed through.

Chapter 13

In Augsburg, Frike was wringing his hands, pacing up and down the front yard, watching the sky for a sign of the return of his beloved master. Then he saw a tiny dark speck, which resolved itself quickly into Azzie.

"Oh, master, at last you have returned!"

"As quickly as I was able," Azziesaid. "I was detained by a family of dwarves, a load of dragon manure, a work wheel, and a schizophrenic worm. I hope you have had as pleasant a time and kept a watch on Prince Charming."

Frike's face twisted in sorrow. "I watched out for him, sire, as well as I was able. Dragon manure?"

"Dragon manure. Did he break my stricture and go to the locked room upstairs?"

"That he did, master."

"And once within it, did he find the small locked casket in the upper drawer of my bureau in the closet?"

"He went to it at once, master," Frike said.

"And opening it, did he find the little miniature of the Princess Scarlet?"

"That he did, sire, that he did."

"Then why don't you tell me in your own ill-chosen words what transpired next?"

"Well, sire, the Prince looked upon the visage of the Princess, then looked away, then looked again. Holding the minia­ture in his left hand, he tugged at his lip thoughtfully with his right. He cleared his throat, going 'ahem, ahem,' like a man who knows not what to say yet feels under a compulsion to say something. He set the miniature down very gently and turned and walked a stride or two away. Then he returned and raised it again. Then he put it down, looked away, and with his left hand this time, pulled gently at his upper lip."

"This is a wonderful detailing, Frike," Azzie said. "But could you get to the nitty-gritty, as the heart of the matter is sometimes described?"

"Most certainly, sir. After bemusing himself with repeated looks, or I could more properly call them glances, at the portrait of the young lady in question, he turned to me and said, 'Frike, this girl is a corker.' "

"Those were his words, eh?"

"His very words, sir. I didn't know what to respond to that, master, so I made a low bestial noise deep in my throat, figuring the young man could interpret it in any way he pleased. Was that all right, sire?"

"Very judicious, Frike. And what happened?"

"Why, master, he paced around a time or two, and then he turned to me and said, 'Why has Uncle Azzie been keeping this from me?' "

"A-ha," Azzie said.

"Beg pardon, sir?"

"Never mind, it was a meaningless interjection. What did you say to him?"

"I said, 'For reasons best known to himself, young Prince,' and again made the low bestial noise in my throat."

"That was well done, Frike. And what happened after that?"

"After more staring at the painting, and fumbling with his lip, and various other movements which I leave out for the sake of brevity, he said, 'Frike, I must have her.' "

"I knew my scheme would work!" Azzie said. "What else did he say?"

"That was all for the first day," Frike said. "By the second, he was getting impatient. He wanted to know where you were.

Since he is a dutiful lad, he wanted your permission before he set forth after her."

"Good lad," Azzie said. "Where is he now?"

"Gone," Frike said. "Soon after, he decided he couldn't wait."

"But where did he go?"

"Why, after the Princess Scarlet, of course. Just as you wanted him to. He waited five days, master, and longer he could not abide due to the fever of passion her picture had inspired in him. Was that not how you wished it, master?"

"Of course. But he needed to have instructions first and the special quest hunting equipment. What did he take?"

"He went into the heavy-equipment closet and selected a sword and armor from the equipment hanging on the wall. And then he took some money you had left in the chest of drawers and said he was on his way and to tell you he'd be back with the Princess and hoped you wouldn't be annoyed with him."

"Damnation!" Azzie cried. He stamped his foot and sank into the earth up to his waist. He extricated himself with dif­ficulty.

Babriel had wandered out of the house upon Azzie's ar­rival. He had listened and now said, "What's the matter? He's doing what you want him to, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he shouldn't have left yet," Azzie said. "I've set up this quest to be difficult and dangerous. It's the only kind that will get the attention of the High Powers. He is going up against dangerous matters of magic, which common men had best leave alone. And he has none of the magic protection I have been collecting for him."

"What, then?" Babriel asked.

"I must get the things that he needs to him," Azzie said. "And I need to do this quickly, quickly! Did he tell you where he planned to begin his search?"

"Not a word of it, sire."

"Well then, which way did he go?"

"He went straight ahead that way," Frike said, pointing. Azzie looked in the direction indicated. "North," he muttered. "He went north. A bad omen. Frike, we must find him before it's too late."

Chapter 1

Prince Charming rode alone into the great green forest, beyond the familiar fields and hills, into the terra in­cognita that lay beyond. His way took him into the north, and as he rode he thought about swords. He knew that a Fairly Lucky Sword was not as good as a Truly Enchanted Sword, but it was a lot better than an ordinary sword. He held up the Fairly Lucky Sword and looked at it. It was an exceed­ingly handsome weapon, with its nicely curling pommel and the tassels around the grip. This was one of the loveliest swords he'd ever seen. It was considerably smaller than the big broads­words that were in vogue in those days, and it was a straight sword, without a curve, none of your Turkish curlicues, thank you very much. It was double edged, sharpened on both sides, and it had a needle point. This would be enough in itself to establish it as one of a special class of sword, since most ordinary swords were only edged on one side and were hardly ever pointed.

The Fairly Lucky Sword was a nice weapon, but it had its problems. There is a general class of Enchanted Swords, and Azzie, in haste to find a magical weapon for his protege, didn't look at the bin he took it out of. He might have thought all Enchanted Swords were the same. He didn't realize that "enchanted" was a generic term for a certain type of sword; that is to say, swords with enchantments of one sort or another upon them.

Enchanted Swords differ greatly in efficacy. There are (or used to be) Unbreakable Swords, and those that never lose their temper. Swords that unerringly kill their opponents are exceedingly rare, although that is the quality every sword-builder tries to get into his blade. All-Conquering Swords can be found from time to time, but these puissant blades generally don't outlast the life of their owner, who, since he can't be overcome man to man in swordsmanship, is typically poisoned by a close friend, a wife, or a wife of a close friend. Even with a perfect sword, humans don't get out of this world alive.

Prince Charming rode through the tangled forest. It was, of course, an enchanted forest. Magical trees just stood there, dark and gloomy, a green world with black shapes flitting across it. This was like the ancient wood of the Old World, concealing hordes of monsters.