The first thing Achmed Ali knew about this was when he heard a great sound that surpassed even the roar of the slipstream and, turning, saw a fox-faced demon astride two blazing broomsticks, diving down on him from above. Achmed threw the carpet into a sideslip, hanging on to Scarlet with one hand as the carpet fell through the sky. Scarlet shrieked because they seemed certain to crash. But Achmed pulled out only a few feet above the shining sea. He turned the carpet to bring its spell-powered thunderbolts into play. Not for the first time did he wish he had the new super thunderbolts, but the Grand Turk, profligate in matters concerning his seraglio, was stingy when it came to updating the armament of his flying carpets.
Before Achmed Ali could bring his standard-issue weapons to bear, Azzie was firing at him with jagged lightning bolts, the short, explosive, painful kind. Achmed dodged and swerved, but the bolts of lightning came closer and closer, singeing the edges of the carpet and spoiling its meager airflow characteristics. Achmed found that no matter how hard he tugged, the web and woof lines would no longer control the craft. The carpet tilted precipitously and Achmed had to grab an edge with both hands. Released from his grip, Princess Scarlet slid to the edge of the carpet, now tilted almost to the perpendicular, over the side, and into the air.
She fell, and so great was her terror that not even a scream could come out of her paralyzed lips. The sea came up fast, and there was a steep little island in the middle of it rising at her with incredible rapidity.
Death seemed certain. But at the last possible moment, as the needle-pointed rock pinnacles were reaching for her with hard granite fingers, Azzie swooped beneath her and scooped her up, draping her over the broomsticks like a sack of flour on a terrestrial pack animal. Scarlet could feel the g-forces build as Azzie barrel-rolled around the mountain and tried to break out of the dive that seemed sure to take them into the white-mouthed sea. And then he had pulled them out of it, and they were soaring into the air again, safe!
“Oh, Uncle Azzie,” Scarlet said, “I’m so glad to see you! I was so frightened!”
“You were very naughty,” Azzie said. “If it weren’t so late in the game, I’d let you go to the Grand Turk’s seraglio and make myself a new Princess Scarlet. My young Prince deserves a faithful heart!”
Scarlet said, “I’ll never run away again, I promise. I’ll nap quietly in my chamber and await his coming.”
“At least a moral point about obedience has been made from all this,” Azzie said, and turned the broomsticks in the direction of the enchanted castle.
Chapter 9
After recovering his credit card and putting Princess Scarlet back where she belonged, Azzie continued on to Paris, long one of his favorite cities. He had decided to stay away from Augsburg for a few days in order to give Prince Charming a chance to moon over the miniature of Princess Scarlet which he had been forbidden to touch, and so fall in love with her according to the rules of psychology.
What better way to pass some time than in riotous living in one of the satanic clubs that Paris was famous for even then?
The one he chose, the Heliogabulus Club, was in a cave under Paris. After going down an endless flight of stone stairs, he came out in a grotto furnished with skulls and skeletons. Torches flamed in their iron wall-holders, casting gloomy shadows here and there. The tables were sarcophagi brought in by some ingenious entrepreneur from Egypt, where they have a never-ending supply of them. Coffins of the more ordinary sort served as chairs. Drinks were served by menials dressed in priests’ cassocks and nuns’ habits. These wretches also served as complaisant bodies for the orgies that climaxed most evenings’ entertainments. Sex and death: it was one of Europe’s first theme bars.
“What’ll you have?” a heavyset man in priest’s garb asked Azzie.
“Give me an expensive imported beer,” Azzie told him. “And do you have anything to eat?”