Light in helping us win the destiny of mankind for the next thousand years."
So saying, he removed from his bosom a small effigy of an angel, done in a sickly yellow white, with glinty blue eyes and cutesy little wings.
"Well," Azzie said, pleased despite himself, "that's very nice of the Powers of Light. Very nice indeed." He struggled to find something ugly to say, but for the moment was overcome. He had received awards from both the Powers of Light and of Darkness. He was pretty sure he was the first ever to win both awards.
After Babriel had left, Azzie fell to musing. He set his two awards down on a table and looked at them. They were rather attractive things. He was pleased despite himself. Rage still boiled, however, when he considered how near he had come to winning the real one, the big one, the Millennial Award itself. But there was no use brooding over it.
For now, what he needed was a little rest and-strange how the thought should occur to him - some home cooking, before shrinking his enemies and delivering them to Brigitte and her guillotine. His thoughts strayed to Ylith. He hadn't paid much attention to her recently; he'd been too preoccupied with putting together his entry. But now it was over.
He mused. He could use a vacation. There was a nice spot he recalled in India where generations of Assassins had worked, killing their thousands of victims each year as they attached themselves to the great pilgrimages. The Assassins had built a special resort on the flat top of a low mountain somewhere north of the Ganges. He was sure he could find it again. It would be fun to go there with Ylith. He remembered the amusements that had been available last time: bowling with human heads, croquet matches with giraffes' necks, table tennis with eyeballs. Yes, it was time he gave Ylith a break.
Chapter 4
Just then the doorbell rang. It was the postman. He delivered a huge sack made of horsehide and standing about three feet high. The bag wriggled, and piteous moans came from it.
"Who's that?" Azzie asked.
"It's me, master," Frike's muffled voice said from within. "Master, I would really appreciate it if you'd put me back together again."
"And so I shall," Azzie said. "But first I've got some work to do. Have you seen Ylith?"
"I can't see anything from in here," Frike said. "Could you please reconstitute me?"
There came the sound of singing, from upstairs.
"All in good time," Azzie said. "I think I hear her now."
He hurried up the stairs. Yes, she sang a witching melody, old when the pyramids were mere foundations. "Ylith! Are you there?"
"Down the hall," Ylith called back.
He hurried to the spare bedroom from which her voice had come and entered the room. She was packing a small suitcase. She looked radiant. Something about her seemed different, though. Was it her complexion? Yes, it had definitely changed for the paler. And her eyes, night black and deliciously sinister, seemed to have become cornflower blue.
"Ylith! What is come over you?" he cried. "Has an infestation of good gotten to you? I know several charms and simples that could cure it... ."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Azzie," Ylith said. "What you see are the visible effects of happiness."
"But what have you got to be happy about?"
"My dear, I don't know how to tell you this... ."
"Then don't," Azzie said. "When anyone starts like that, it's sure to mean bad news. I've had enough bad news for a while."
"What are those things you're carrying?" Ylith asked.
"Oh. Some awards. One from the Powers of Light, the other from Darkness. I guess they both thought I should have them."
"Azzie, how wonderful!"
"Yes, it is nice," Azzie said. "But listen, Ylith, I've been thinking. I haven't treated you very well. But you know how it is when you're serious about the service of evil. Always something to do. Well, I've ignored you for too long. I'd like you to come away with me now, to a very fine little hotel I know in India. India's lovely at this time of year, and we'll sport and disport ourselves and have a great time. What do you say?"
"Ah, Azzie," she said, her voice soft and breathy, "if only you could know how much I've longed to hear those words from you!"
"Well, now you've heard them. It's good that you're packing. We can be away at once."
"Darling, I hate to tell you this, but I love another."
"Ouch!" Azzie said, sitting down, then getting up again. "Well, I suppose whoever it is could come with us," he offered. "That's in the nature of evil, isn't it, to share when you don't want to?"
"I'm afraid it cannot be," Ylith said. "Babriel would never stand for it."
"Babriel!"
"Yes, he is the one I love. He has asked me away from here, to a beautiful little place he knows where there are green pastures and lambs frolic and the flowers of springtime shine everywhere."
"Sounds sickening," Azzie said. "What are you thinking of, Ylith? It is not in the nature of evil to have a taste for lambs, except in the form of chops done with a bit of rosemary and mint jelly."
"Same old Azzie," she said, smiling. "You don't understand. I've converted. I've decided to be good."
"No! Not you, Ylith! You need an exorcism immediately!"
"It's not like that at all," she replied. "I've fallen in love with Babriel. I will go with him, and I will be a person he can love and respect."
Azzie mastered himself for the moment. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.
"Absolutely. Look!"
She turned. Azzie could see the rudimentary wings sprouting from her back. They were whiter than mourning doves, whiter than foam from untrammeled seas. They were tiny now, but they would grow. She had become a Creature of Light.
"That's disgusting," Azzie said. "You'll regret this, I promise you."
He left the door standing open as he stalked away.
Chapter 5
Prince Charming and Princess Scarlet! And their happiness! Azzie was fascinated in spite of himself. He returned to the magic mirror in his workroom. It was large and had a faintly bluish cast. He staggered up to it, a bottle of ichor clutched in one hand, and stood before it.
He stared into the mirror and said, "Show them to me."
"Show who?" the mirror said.
"You know damned well who," Azzie said.
"Just one moment while I make the connection," the mirror replied.
Azzie waited, fuming. Beside him, in the leather bag, the various parts of Frike squirmed. Azzie ignored them. Caught up as he was in a demonic obsession, infused with unholy dynamism, he watched the mirror turn cloudy, then slowly grow clear.
The images of Prince Charming and Princess Scarlet appeared. How pretty they were! In their silken clothing, they seemed a symbol of all that was good with the world.
Azzie could hear them, in their soft, well-modulated voices, making small talk with each other.
"Izzum my woozie baby?" This from Scarlet.
"I am yours forever," Charming said. "I know it is usual in these matters not to look into the denouement. I know that the sour scansions of a later age will say that I bullied you, or that you nagged me. But what care we for such cynical glosses? We are young, we are in love, we are beautiful, and contrary to popular expectations, we are going to stay this way for a long time and love each other faithfully and well."
"How nicely you put it!" Scarlet said, settling back into his arms.
"Happy, are you?" Azzie snarled. "We'll see to that. There must be something I can do."