"Nothing difficult. Merely a clear, pleasant, and safe path from here to the residence of Cheiron Centaur."
The screen dimmed a moment as Com-Pewter pondered. THERE IS ONE TO WHICH I CAN DIRECT YOU. IT CROSSES THE GAP CHASM VIA THE INVISIBLE BRIDGE AND PAUSES AT THE RESIDENCE OF GRUNDY GOLEM. WILL THIS BE SATISFACTORY?
"Certainly. Grundy isn't much, but his wife Rapunzel is delightful."
WHAT RETURN FAVOR DO YOU OFFER?
"It happens that Tristan Troll is a thoughtful and decent creature, unlike many of his kind, who seeks employment as an information processor. It occurred to me that you could use an assistant."
I DON'T WANT A TROLL! THE LAST ONE I ENCOUNTERED TOOK MY WHEATSTONE BRIDGE.
"Well, perhaps if he had another form. Such as a cat-"
NO.
"Or perhaps a mouse."
The screen blinked. A MOUSE!
Trent shrugged. "Of course if you're not interested, he could be a spring chicken."
THE MOUSE WILL DO!
Gloha stifled a laugh. Spring chickens were notorious for aging rapidly and ceasing to be attractive. They were almost like harpies in that respect. But what would Pewter want with a mouse?
Trent reached toward Gloha. The humbug jumped from her hand to his hand. Then it became a cute mouse. Trent set the mouse down before the screen. It ran around, and the path of its motion was traced by a line on the screen.
AH, YES, PERFECT: YES. NO.
"Now if you care to show us the path," Trent suggested.
WATCH THE MOUSE.
And the mouse ran to the wall-where there was an opening Gloha had not seen before. She could almost have sworn it hadn't been there a moment ago, but of course she was a nice girl who would never swear.
They entered the new passage. The mouse sat up and squeaked. Gloha squatted down. "Thank you, Tristan," she said. "I hope you are happy here." She extended one finger to stroke his head.
"Just exactly what does a mouse have to do with a funny machine?" Cynthia inquired as they moved on.
"I understand it is very useful in helping people relate to the machine, perhaps because they prefer to have a living interface," Trent said. "With a mouse, much more information can be processed in a simpler way. It's a special kind of magic that few in Xanth understand, but I knew that Pewter would. Of course there are those who don't like mice, with or without a machine. That won't bother Pewter; he'll be happy to have his mouse spook them, while remaining nominally nice."
Now Gloha understood better. Pewter surely wasn't happy having to be nice all the time. Now he could be nasty while seeming nice.
The tunnel led directly out of the mountain-and there before them was the great gulf of the Gap Chasm. "So soon?" Gloha asked, astonished, as they peered down on the top of a small cloud that happened to be slumming.
"Com Pewter changes reality in his vicinity," Trent reminded her. "He gave us a direct path."
"He certainly did!" She was almost disappointed, because she was rather enjoying this journey with Cynthia and wasn't eager for it to end quickly.
Trent followed the path to the brink and put one foot cautiously over the edge. "Yes, it's here," he said, and walked out into air.
"Eeeek!" Cynthia screamed, jamming a good four e's into her ek.
"It's the invisible bridge," Gloha reminded her.
"I thought that was a joke."
"I believe it was built after your time," Trent said cheerily from midair.
Cynthia flew near him and reached out to touch the invisible structure. "It's there!" she exclaimed. "It's really there."
"All the same, I'll fly across," Gloha said. "The troll's bridge and invisible giant were bad enough; I don't need to trust an invisible bridge."
"Me too," Cynthia agreed. "I'm glad for my wings." Then, suffering a second thought, she added: "Thanks to you, Magician. I would no longer be comfortable as a human maiden, or even a regular centaur. What made you choose this form for me?"
"You were so pretty, I didn't want to spoil it. But I didn't want you joining the centaurs, who can be as difficult as straight human folk. It was a spur-of-the-moment compromise. He glanced up at her as she hovered close by. "I think it was a good decision, given the exigencies of the moment. I would not do such a thing today, but I believe you remain as pretty as you were then."
Cynthia blushed again. She flew on ahead, so as to hide her face. Gloha knew why: Cynthia still found the Magician insidiously attractive. Gloha understood the feeling, because she felt that attraction herself. She had been trying to deny it, but it would not be denied. But like Cynthia, she would not care to be transformed to a full human woman, even if the Magician were interested in her, or unmarried, or actually as young as he looked. She liked her own form too well. But it didn't stop her half-witted little heart from having naughty little notions.
Trent completed his crossing. Gloha was relieved; she knew the invisible bridge was sturdy, but it was still easy to imagine him plummeting into the chasm. Perhaps if she had gotten on the bridge herself, and kept her hands on the handrails, she would have had more confidence. That was another reason she never wanted to be without wings: the groundbound human form was so limited by mountains and chasms.
The way led north through the forest. Now that they had crossed the bridge, she knew it was an enchanted path, free from menace by dragons, griffins, basilisks, mean men, and other ilk That was a relief; she hoped never to meet an ilk. But she had to admit that their small encounters along the other route had been interesting. Maybe they would have been less so if there hadn't been a Magician along to protect the innocent maidens. Yet they wouldn't have had to stay down on the ground if he hadn't been along, so wouldn't have needed protection. So her impressions were sort of mixed up.
Soon they came to a giant club stuck endwise in the ground, the thorny business end up. As they came close, it quivered, as if about to lift itself up and take a swing at them. The thing was so massive that a single blow would crush any of them.
"Does the enchantment still hold?" Gloha asked in a nervous whisper.
"It should," Trent said. "But sometimes there are flaws in the magic, and something gets through. It is best not to take any threat for granted."
"Let me fly by it first; I don't think it could move fast enough to hit me," she said. "If it comes out of the ground and chases me, then we'll know."
"I'll agree only if you fly along the path. The club may be dangerous to anything that strays off the path, and merely threaten whoever passes on it."
"That would make sense," Cynthia said. "It might make a feint, scaring someone off the path. Then it could smash that poor person, because the enchantment doesn't extend beyond the path. The enchantment can't protect someone from foolishness."
Trent nodded. "That's probably its ploy. So if we simply refuse to react, we'll be safe. Nevertheless, I think you had better test it. If it actually strikes in the pathway, I'll transform Cynthia into a giantess who can grab it by the handle and tame it."
Gloha flew swiftly by the club, while the Magician and centaur waited behind. The club quivered, working its way out of the ground, about to take off.
"Gloha!" someone cried.
Gloha spun around in the air, looking back. There was a tiny man standing on top of the club. "Grundy!" she called back. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm home. This is my clubhouse. Don't worry; it doesn't bother friends. I came out the moment it started to shake." He tapped his foot on the wood. "At ease, house. Gloha's okay." The club stopped moving.
"You had better introduce it to my friends, too," Gloha said, indicating Trent and Cynthia.
Grundy turned to look. "A winged centaur!" he exclaimed. "But she's too young to be Chex."
"Actually she's older than Chex," Gloha said. "Remember, Chex is only a year older than I am. She matured rapidly."
Grundy squinted. "Still, this one looks only about sixteen."
"She was delivered in the year 1005."
"She's eighty-eight
years old? You're pulling my little leg, harpy-wings. Next you're going to tell me that young man beside her is ninety-six!"
"Right. He's Magician Trent."
"Sure, and let's see him transform something."
Trent squatted and pointed to an ant on the path. Suddenly it became a gi-ant, a humongous creature the size of a unicorn. It looked around as if startled to see the world become so much smaller, vibrated its antennae, and made ready to chomp someone with its mandibles.
Trent transformed it to a pink bunny. The bunny hopped toward the forest.
"That's not nice," someone called. "Change it back to its natural form before it gets lost and hurt."
Trent went after the bunny and transformed it back into a small ant.
"That's Magician Trent, all right," Grundy agreed. "But what's he doing so young, and with you folk?"
"He's helping me find my ideal man," Gloha explained. "And the centaur is Cynthia, whom he transformed long ago; she's been in the Brain Coral's pool until now."
"So she's not really all that old!" Grundy said. "She was in suspended animation."
"Yes. Now we're taking her to join the winged centaur family."
The golem nodded. "But she's a bit old for Che."
"Magician Trent has some more youth elixir."
"Gotcha." Grundy looked around. "I heard my wife a moment ago-ah, there she is. Come on out, dear, and meet these folk."
The tiny woman came out of the tiny door in the clubhouse. Suddenly she was full human size, with a head of dark hair that reached to the ground and then some, turning brown, red, blond, and eventually white on the way, despite being braided and bound. She was lovely in a dress covered with ads for places and things.
Grundy jumped down to her extended hand. "My wife Rapunzel, wearing her address," he introduced. "I call her the hairy monster."
Rapunzel lifted him to her face, made as if to bite his tiny head off, and kissed his face instead-his whole face at once.
"One of these days she's going to be inhaling when she does that, and I'll be gone," Grundy said ruefully.
Rapunzel shook hands with them all. Then she reached to the clubhouse again. "Let me introduce our daughter, Surprise," she said.
A figure even smaller than Grundy came to the doorway and stepped into Rapunzel's hand, joining Grundy. "Here she is," he said proudly. "Delivered by surprise six months ago." He turned to the child. "Say hi to the nice folk, kid."
"Hi, nice folk," the girl said.
Gloha's jarred little jaw dropped. So did Cynthia's. "I thought you said she was six months old," Gloha said.
“That isn't what he said," Rapunzel said, smiling. "He said she was delivered six months ago."
"But she's talking!"
"Yes, she talks a lot," Rapunzel agreed. "She's five years old."
Even Trent looked startled at this. "How can she be that old, only half a year after being delivered?"
"It was a surprise," Grundy admitted. "So we named her-"
"That I think I understand," Trent said. "Still-"
"We think the stork got lost on the way," Rapunzel explained. "We had ordered her some time ago, and kept expecting her, but somehow she never arrived. Then, when we least expected it, there she was. The stork didn't speak to us; he just flew quickly away, as if greatly relieved."
Trent shook his head, acting for all of them. "I thought I had seen some unusual things in my day, but this does surprise me. Does she have a talent?"
Grundy and Rapunzel exchanged several fragments of a glance. "Not exactly," Grundy said, looking uncomfortable.
"Talent!" the tiny child exclaimed. Suddenly she was full human child sized, with a sweet smile and a headful of curly black hair. Rapunzel had to set her quickly on the ground, almost spilling Grundy in the process.
"Size changing!" Gloha exclaimed. "How nice. But of course it must run in the family."
"Not exactly," Rapunzel said with the same uncomfortable look Grundy had had a moment before. "We don't like to mention it, because-"
"Not mention a fine talent like that?" Gloha asked. "But why not?"
“Talent!" Surprise repeated. Suddenly her hair was growing. It curled down around her shoulders, turning dark brown. It extended to her waist, becoming light brown. Then it reached to her knees, becoming red. Finally it touched her feet, blond.
Rapunzel quickly gathered it up before it could drag in the dirt. She borrowed several pins from her own tresses to fasten it in place, while the child played idly with a pebble she found on the ground.
"Two?" Gloha asked. "I thought no one in Xanth had that!"
"Well, one may not be a-I mean, both these things take after her mother, sort of," Grundy said.
"But that's still amazing! Maybe she does have two talents."
"Talent!" Surprise said a third time, evidently picking it up from their discussion. She held up the pebble-and it became a dragon's tooth.
This time Trent's jaw dropped as far as the others' did. "Shape-changing of objects!" he said. "A third-" He cut himself off as both parents looked about to faint.
"This is a surprise," Gloha said. "How many-what-evers-does she have?"
"Just one, we think," Grundy said. "One at a time, that is. We never know ahead of time which one it will be."
"Or whether we've seen it before," Rapunzel added. "It's very unnerving."
Gloha appreciated the situation. "I can see why you named her Surprise."
"Surprise!" the child cried, and vanished.
This time the jaws of Grundy and Rapunzel dropped. "Oops," he said.
"This is a new one," she said.
"Is she invisible, or elsewhere?" he asked.
Rapunzel reached out to where the little girl had been standing. "Invisible," she said with relief.
"She never acted up in company before," Grundy said, looking wary.
"Perhaps we are a disruptive influence," Trent said diplomatically. "We have to move on anyway."
"Yes, we should reach the winged centaur family by nightfall," Gloha said. Actually they had no schedule, and weren't rushing it, but if they were inciting Surprise to mischief, they needed to depart quickly, before anything really bad happened.
"Nightfall!" the childish voice cried happily. Suddenly it was night. Not blackness, but actual night: the stars were shining down.
"Farewell," Trent said, somewhat hollowly. "We'll just shoot on out of here along the path. The stars give us enough light."
"Shoot! Star!"
One of the stars moved from its place in the sky. It came swiftly toward them, leaving a trail of light behind. "Did somebody say my name?" it demanded. "I'll plug him dead!" A bolt of thin lightning zapped out. "All we needed," Trent muttered. "A shooting star."
"With an attitude," Gloha agreed.
"I think it's cute," Cynthia said.
The star paused, brightening. "You do? Well now." It shot back to its place, pleased.
Before long the region turned reddish-dawn-colored, and then the light of the day returned. They paused and looked back. They were still on the path, having felt its smooth surface underfoot, and nothing was threatening them. But behind was the black blob of night, covering the clubhouse and its neighborhood.
"That child will be a handful," Trent muttered. “That's at least five talents she's shown, and some border on Magician class. I wish we could help them, but I think they'll just have to work things out themselves."
"Yes," Gloha agreed. It hadn't occurred to her that a strong talent could be a problem. But that child had too much talent at too young an age; she had learned how to invoke it, erratically, but lacked the responsibility that went with such magic.
They followed the path north, and in a surprisingly short time came to a pleasant glade with a large thatch cottage in the shape of a stall. Before it was an anvil where horseshoes might be hammered. Com-Pewter had been true to his part of the bargain, giving them a direct route to the centaur residence. It probably would have taken a lot longer, and be
en much more difficult, otherwise.
Trent paused, turning to Cynthia. "I think now is the tune to use the Fountain of Youth elixir Magician Humfrey gave me."
Cynthia looked doubtful. "I don't want to deceive anyone, especially centaurs. I'm really not a child."
"You're really not sixteen, either," he pointed out. "In Xanth, appearance counts for most of reality. We are not going to deceive anyone. We'll simply adjust your age as appropriate to the situation."
Still she hesitated. "My body may be young, but my mind will still be almost seventeen. I wouldn't blame them for objecting to that."
"My mind is ninety-six," he said evenly. "Has that bothered you?"
"Oh, no! You have been marvelously knowledgeable and helpful."
"Were I really twenty-six, I doubt I would have acted always with propriety, especially when you uncovered your upper torso, or when you were kissing me back to warmth. There are advantages of age and experience."
"I suppose," she agreed uncertainly. "Too bad you weren't really that age. I might have given you man thoughts to match my woman thoughts."
Trent's lips pursed, but he managed to ignore the remark. He turned to Gloha. "We seem to have a difference here. What do you say?"
"I think you should youthen her, and let the centaurs decide. If they don't want her, she can stay with us."
"But I'll be nine years old!" Cynthia protested.
"Your mind will be sixteen."
"It's not the same."
Trent shrugged. “Then let's meet the family now, and use the elixir later, if it seems warranted."
"Yes," Cynthia said, relieved.
They went to the house. Trent knocked on the door, which was double, opening in the middle and hinged at the outsides, as with a barn. A woman's face appeared in the window panel, looking surprised. Then the door opened. A mature winged centaur filly stood there, magnificently bare-breasted. "I recognize Gloha," she said, "but not the man or the-oh, my!" For now she had seen Cynthia's wings.
"Chex, I am Magician Trent, youthened for the time being. I am accompanying Gloha on her quest to find her ideal man. This is Cynthia, whom I transformed to this form in my youth. She has been in the Brain Coral's pool since. She-"
"She wanted to meet the only other winged centaurs in Xanth!" Chex said. "Oh, I'm so sorry she isn't younger!" Then she put her hand to her mouth, embarrassed. "I shouldn't have said that. It's just that-"