"Precisely. Now, do you also want a set of magic horses?"

"Magic horses? What on Earth would I want magic horses for? Are they necessary?"

"Not really, but if you're planning this for an audience the magic horses provide a spirited spectacle. They also add another layer of complication."

"Not too serious a complication, I hope?" Azzie asked. "I don't know how smart my contestants are going to be. But a.s.suming they're like most humans..."

"Point taken," said the clerk. "The magic horses complication should be easy enough to manage. And it does add a lot of cla.s.s."

"Put me down for seven magic horses," Azzie said.

"Right," said the clerk, scribbling on an order form. "Now, do you want the horses to have any real magical qualities?"

"Such as?"

"Well, extra puissance, n.o.bility, comeliness, ability to fly, ability to talk, ability to metamorphose into another animal- "

"Those sound like expensive additions."

"You can have anything you want," the clerk said, "but you do have to pay for it."

"Make them magic horses then, but without any extra qualities," Azzie said. "That ought to be good enough."

"Fine. Are there any other complications you want to introduce between the receipt of the half spells and the arriving at the candlesticks?"

"No, if they just get that bit done, that'll be fine," Azzie said.

"Okay, what caliber spell?" the clerk said.

"Caliber? Since when did they come in calibers?"

"New ruling. All spells must be ordered by caliber."

"I don't know what caliber I need," Azzie said.

"Find out," the clerk said.

Azzie gave the clerk a bribe and said, "Each spell should be able to transport a human being from a location in one realm of discourse to a location in another. Then it needs to take him on to another destination."

"Then you need double-barreled spells rather than half spells," the clerk said. "Can't ask all that of an ordinary spell. There's a lot of energy required, changing realms of discourse. Let's see, how much do these humans weigh?"

"I don't know," Azzie said. "I haven't met them yet. Let's say a maximum of three hundred pounds each."

"The caliber is double if the spell has to move more than two hundred and fifty pounds."

"Make it two fifty, then. I'll make sure none of them weighs in above that."

"Okay," the clerk said. He found a sc.r.a.p of paper and did some figuring. "Let's see if I've got this straight. You want seven double-barreled spells that'll each transport a two-hundred-fifty-pound human - and that includes anything he's carrying-to two different spots in two different realms of discourse. I'd say it'll take forty-five-caliber spells. Which brand do you want?"

"There are different brands?" Azzie said.

"Believe it," said the clerk. "Moronia Mark II is a good make. So's Idiota Magnifica 24. Makes no difference to me."

"Give me either."

"Hey, you've got to make the choice yourself. Do I gotta do everything for you?"

"Make them Idiota spells."

"We're out of Idiota spells. I expect some more in by next week."

"I'll take the Moronia spells, then."

"Okay. Fill in here and here. Sign here. Initial here. Initial to indicate you've initialed yourself. Okay. Here you go."

The clerk handed Azzie a small white package. Azzie opened it and examined its contents.

"They look like small silver keys," he said.

"That's because they're Moronias. The Idiotas look different."

"Will these work as well?"

"Some say better."

"Thanks!" Azzie cried, and he was gone. Back for the weary round back through Grand Central Clearing Station, and then to Earth again. But he was elated. He had what he needed. The legend. The story. The candlesticks. The spells. Now he just needed the people to act out his story. And that ought to be the fun part.

PART FIVE.

Chapter 1.

On a brilliant morning in June, on an unpaved country road to the south of Paris, a coach and four came round a bend from behind a clump of majestic chestnut trees with a jingling of harness and a pounding of horses' hooves. Aside from the noises made by the horses, and by the creaking of the swaying coach, there was nothing to be heard but the hum of the cicadas and the loud cry of the coachman: "Gee up there, Holdfast!"

The coach was a big one, painted yellow and red, and it had two footmen on top behind the driver. There was a similar coach fifty feet behind it, and behind that, several hors.e.m.e.n moving along at a smart canter. A dozen mules were at the rear.

Inside the lead coach were six people. Two children - a good-looking young boy of nine or ten, and his sister, a girlwoman of fourteen with a head of crisp red curls and a pert expression on her comely face. The others were adults, wedged together uncomfortably but making the best of it.

The coach had begun to lurch badly. Had one of the following hors.e.m.e.n galloped up beside it, he would have seen that the right front wheel was making a curious looping movement. The coachman felt the change and pulled his horses back just as the wheel came off, and the coach came to rest on its axle.

The leading horseman, a corpulent, red-faced man, pulled up beside the window of the coach.

"Hallo! Everybody all right in there?"

"We're fine, sir," the boy said.

The horseman bent over and peered inside. He nodded to the adult pa.s.sengers, but his eyes rested on Puss.