"Are you calling me a liar?" the sword asked.

"Certainly not!" Charming said, since it is natural to use caution when talking to a talking sword, especially one with runes.

"I hope we meet that friar again," Excalibur said, and rattled up and down with low, sinister laughter.

Later that day they passed a group of merchants. They were civil enough, but no sooner were they out of sight than the sword told Charming that the merchants were actually thieves who were planning to knock him, Charming, over the head, and steal him, Excalibur. Charming said he didn't think so, but the sword would not listen. He finally pulled himself out of Charming's belt, said, "I'll be right back," and flashed off into the forest. He came back an hour later, bloodstained and wobbling.

After that, the sword swore and sang like a drunken per­son, and finally began to accuse Charming of planning some evil against him, such as melting him down when he came to the next foundry. It was obvious that the sword had a problem.

That evening, when he lay down for a little rest and the sword had gone to sleep, Charming got up and ran away from Excalibur as fast as he could.

Chapter 2

Relieved of the sinister company of Excalibur, Charm­ing continued his search for Scarlet's castle. He moved silently through the forest, huge trees on all sides, vines and creepers using up whatever space was left. It was an un­dersea kind of landscape, green and wet, with odd noises coming from all around him.

Prince Charming walked. Unfortunately, Parsifal's big black horse had run off with his first horse when he abandoned Excalibur.

Meanwhile Azzie, in Augsburg, was rushing about his mansion frantically, trying to put together the things he needed to give to Charming once he found him.

"Quick, Frike, better put in a bottle of magic wound oint­ment."

"The edged-weapons kind, sire, or the clubbed-in-the-head kind?"

"Better pack in both, we can't tell what he's gotten himself into."

"Lady Ylith is back, m'lord," Frike advised him.

"Oh? I thought she was keeping an eye on Scarlet... . More bandages."

"That she is, sir. Though in your absence she's felt obliged to maintain the agreement on your behalf by reporting devel­opments to the observer on a regular, daily basis."

"The observer? That being Babriel? Of course. Good girl. Where is she now?"

"In the parlor, I believe, conferring with the observer over tea... . Here are the bandages."

"I'd best stop by and say a quick hello before we leave. Thanks, Frike."

Ylith and Babriel were stealing glances at each other over tall flagons of wine and exchanging glances through the haze of burnt mist which surrounded the smoking crumpets. They seemed to have developed a taste for each other's company. You could tell by the way Ylith arched her back at every op­portunity. As for Babriel, it seemed that some heavenly ana­logue to desire was working itself out in him.

Azzie bounded into the room, grinning or grimacing as the case may be, causing Ylith to spring to her feet.

"Azzie, dear, I'd thought you still far gone," she an­nounced, rushing toward him, embracing him. "I was just taking advantage of the opportunity."

"Opportunity for what?" Azzie asked.

"Why, to see how things are going on your end of the business," she stated. "How fares the project?"

"The moment is crucial," Azzie observed, disengaging him­self, "and my presence is required on the scene. I think you'd better get back to Scarlet's castle to watch developments on that end. Hi, Bab. How's Good doing these days?"

"Why, uh. We've just come up with a very interesting and inspiring touch for our entry. We're calling them stained-glass windows. I'd really like you to see them sometime."

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry right now. Stained glass?"

"Yes. Beautiful and morally instructive."

"Ugh! Sounds terrible. Sorry I can't stay and chat. Have another drink. It's good for you. Frike! Have we got everything we need?"

"Here, master, is the final thing!" cried Frike, stump­ing into the room. He was holding in his hand two long horseman's boots made of limp red leather. There was nothing unusual about them except for the small dials set into the heels.

"My Seven League Boots!" Azzie cried. "Frike, you're a genius!"

Azzie put them on, hefted the sack containing spells, extra swords, and other odds and ends. He tapped the heels of the boots twice, activating them.

"I'm off!" he cried.

Azzie went through the front door in a single stride and took to the air.

Babriel and Ylith rushed to the windows to watch, for they had never seen Seven League Boots in operation before. Azzie's pair was not new, but they worked perfectly. Off he went, just clearing the houses of Augsburg but gaining altitude, and climb­ing steadily.

The Seven League Boots took him high into the air, and Azzie could see the great forest below him, stretching to every horizon in a boundless sea of green. Every once in a while a clearing broke the uniformity and showed a settlement below. This went on for a long time. Azzie didn't know where he was and decided to ask directions. He tried to get the boots to take him down. The boots refused to vary from their previous course. That was the trouble with Seven League Boots. They were very literal, taking you exactly seven leagues at a step, not an inch more or less. He reached down and hammered at them.

"I want to go down right here!" But the boots ignored him, or at least didn't register his complaint. Straight and true they carried him, above the forest and its several rivers, coming down at last outside a town.

Amazed peasants in the village of Vuden in eastern Wal­lachia watched as a demon made a perfect landing in the middle of the weekly fair.

"The enchanted forest!" Azzie cried. "Where is it?"

"Which enchanted forest?" the villagers cried back.

"The one with the enchanted castle with the Sleeping Prin­cess in it!"

"Back that way about two leagues!" the villagers cried, pointing the way Azzie had just come.

Once again Azzie soared into the air. And once again the Seven League Boots took their full seven-league stride.

Now began a nerve-racking contest in which Azzie tried to estimate what direction to take in order to reach his desti­nation in exact increments of seven leagues. It took a while to figure out the appropriate zigs and zags.

There it was ahead, the peak of the magic mountain, rec­ognizable by the haze of obfuscation which hung over it. But now, where in its vicinity was Charming?

Chapter 3

Prince Charming walked all day through the forest. The ground was fairly even, there were numerous sparkling streams, and from time to time he would pass a fruit tree and pick his lunch. The sun slanted in, gilding the leaves and branches. After a time, he came to a glade where he rested.

When he awoke, the woods were gloomy with evening light and something was passing near him. He scrambled to his feet and moved off into the underbrush, reaching for his sword before recalling he had abandoned Excalibur. Drawing a knife then, he peered out from behind a blackberry bush. He saw a shaggy little pony enter the clearing.

"Hello, young man," the pony said, halting, and staring at the bush.

Charming was not surprised that the pony could speak. After all, it was an enchanted forest.

"Hello," he said.

"Where are you going?" asked the pony.

"I'm looking for an enchanted castle that is supposed to be somewhere nearby," Charming said. "I am to rescue a maiden named Princess Scarlet, who lies there in an enchanted sleep."