“That can be ensured,” Azzie said, “by careful selection of the body parts, and appropriate education once they are selected and animated into persons.”
“Careful selection?” Phlegethon asked. “What do you mean by that?”
“Here is the very first item,” Azzie said, “around which I intend to build my Prince Charming.”
He removed from his canvas bag the pair of legs he had won at the demons’ poker game. The Lord Demons leaned forward to regard them. By the combined weight of their gaze a cloud of body memory issued forth, and each demon could see for himself the history of this pair of legs, and how their owner had come to lose them.
“A devilish cowardly pair of legs indeed,” Belial said.
“True, my lord,” Azzie said. “A prince with these legs would never stay the course of a difficult trial. The legs themselves would almost haul him back to shameful safety!”
“Is that the destined outcome of your planned charade?” Belial asked.
“No, it is not, lord,” Azzie said. “I crave your indulgence not to force me to reveal the conclusion of my scheme too soon, for much of the pleasure in its making lies in following a creative intuition without knowing too firmly in advance its outcome.”
There may have been difficulties about Azzie’s plan, but the time to select an entry was at hand, and nothing better had come along. The assembled Lord Demons nodded. “I think we have something here,” Belial said. “What do you think, my colleagues?”
The others humphed and griffed but finally gave their assent.
“Go forth, then,” Belial said to Azzie, “and do what you have promised. You are our entry, our chosen one. Go, and produce horror and evil in our name.”
“Thank you,” Azzie said, genuinely moved. “But I’ll need money to do this. Body parts such as I want don’t come cheap. And there is the matter of the other things I’ll need-two castles, one for each protagonist, and a mansion for myself from which to operate. Also the wages of a servant, and quite a few other things.”
The lords issued him a black credit card with his name embossed in fiery letters above an inverted pentagram, insert-able anyplace dark and sinister. “With this,” Belial said, “you will have instant and unlimited credit with Supply. You can call them up anytime and anywhere, so long as you find someplace foul in which to insert the card. But that should be no difficulty, the world being what it is. It is also good for control of meteorological phenomena.”
“But you must supply your own hero and heroine,” Azazel told him. “And, of course, the directing of the action is all your responsibility.”
“Accepted,” Azzie said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter 4
If someone had been watching, from a high window in the steeply pitched narrow old house above the main square in the village of Hagenbeck, he might have seen a man arriving in the public coach from Troyes. This man was tall and attractive. He was neither young nor old. His face was not displeasing, and had about it a sternness that marked its owner as a person of some consequence. He wore clothing of good English cloth, and his shoes had fine brass buckles. He got off at Hagenbeck, went directly into the inn, and asked for rooms. When the owner, Herr Gluck, wondered about the new arrival’s ability to pay, Azzie (for such it was) produced a purse in which rested innumerable pieces of Spanish gold cast in doubloons.
“Very fine, indeed, sir,” the innkeeper said, cringing to show his appreciation. “We have our finest apartment open. Usually it is occupied, but everyone is gone to the great fair in Champagne.”
“Then it is mine,” said Azzie.
It was very fine, the main room having a large bower window. There was even a little bathroom in which to clean up, not that demons make much use of such things.
At first Azzie lay down on the big bed with its feather down coverlet and its fine plump pillows. It seemed to him that his career was finally beginning. He was amazed at how quickly he had moved, from a lowly servitor in North Discomfort 405 to the impresario of a fine new game for the Millennial celebrations. He lay on the bed and pondered his good fortune for a time, then bestirred himself, anxious to get his scheme started.