Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming. Part 3
Chapter 8
Ylith selected a freshly charged broomstick and, first making sure her protective amulets were in place, flew out of the mansion window and up, straight up, into the empyrean blue of the highest atmosphere. As she went she murmured a protective spell to herself, for she was unhappy over what she was about to do. Still, to keep those bodies cold, her first thought had been to ask assistance of the Harpies.
Harpies and witches were friendly toward one another. The Harpies were female demons inducted into the Powers of Darkness after the collapse of classical mythology. Not only did they do evil, but their very presence was disturbing. Their breath was foul, and their table manners disgusting. But it was to the Harpies that Ylith had decided to go, because, although they were foul, they were quick-witted. There were many other demonic deities she could have called upon, but only the Harpies and their sisters, the Sirens, could be counted upon to understand at once what was desired, and sufficiently honorable to follow through on what they promised.
She flew hard and fast, soon passing through the crack that separates the realms of the human from that of the inhuman and superhuman.
Immediately she found herself in a vast cloudland of snowy hills and mountains. And there were rivers, too, and little temples along the riverbanks, all made of clouds. She flew on and, dipping low over this land, saw the manticore and the chimaera and, in a little valley of its own, Behemoth snorted and reached for her with a great talon. She eluded the beast easily and flew on, to a region where the clouds were colored blue, and everything below was stained with blue and gold, like the borders of a dimly remembered dream. Descending, she saw, very tiny at first, the figures of beautiful women on the banks of a sleepy river, and close to them, a waterfall where they could sport and slide.
Then Ylith directed her flight downward and came to one of the regions where the Harpies and the Sirens lived together. She slowed and came to a stop on the left bank of the river. This was the Styx, the great river that traveled from deepest past to furthest future. There were trees along it of no known variety, for they still awaited their birth on the earth. Beneath these trees were maidens, lolling at their ease on the grassy banks. There were eight of them, Sirens, and several Harpies. The Sirens were famed for luring people, especially sailors, to their doom with their sweet songs. The Harpies were the more advanced stage of Siren, beautiful and golden-haired, with firm, well-shaped breasts, but with table manners that would make a hyena blush. They were in charge of tormenting damned souls of a classical sort, by snatching food from their mouths and splattering them all over with fiery excrement.
Although Ylith put on a bold front, she was more than a little afraid, as these ancient demons were given to odd perversions and strange thoughts, and their mood was always uncertain.
But she put on a bold face and said, “Sisters, I bring you greetings from the world of humans.”
One of the Sirens stirred herself. She was large, ash blond, and had a sweet little rosebud of a mouth. It was difficult to believe that this was Poldarge, one of the most ominous of the Chthonian women deities.
“What do we care for the world of humans?” Poldarge said. “The banks of this fine river are our home. Here we entertain each other by singing of fine exploits of the past. And, from time to time, a man falls into our hands, having escaped over the side of Charon’s boat. Then we get him from the river deities, and we play with him until he goes mad, and then we eat him, each of us tearing off her share.”
“I thought,” Ylith said, “that you might care for some diversion, as long as it is in good cause. Because, excellent though this riverbank is, you must sometimes miss the world of humans, where fine deeds can be done.”