"As the only one of my kind? I'd rather stay in the pool!"
"There is another now. A family of winged centaurs, in fact. Cheiron and Chex Centaur, and their foal Che. He- you-we thought maybe-"
"A male winged centaur!" Cynthia said. "How old is he?"
"Well, he's young yet, but-"
"How old?"
"Eight. But he gets older every year."
"You expect a sixteen-year-old girl to go with an eight-year-old boy?"
Gloha saw how foolish it was. "I guess it was a bad idea. I'm not interested in any eight-year-old goblin boy."
"There is an answer," Trent said.
Both girls looked at him.
"As you can see, the elixir of the Fountain of Youth can reduce a person's physical age. There is some available. So if you-"
"I don't want to be eight years old again."
"Then maybe if Che were made older-"
"He would still be a child in a grown body."
"Then I can transform you back to your original form," Trent said. "You are a pretty girl with an appealing age; I'm sure you'll be able to make your way in the human realm."
But Cynthia was having a second thought. "This centaur boy-what's he like?"
"Oh, he's very special," Gloha said. "All the winged monsters are sworn to protect him, because he is destined to change Xanth. We don't know exactly how, but already he has helped Gwenny Goblin be the first female goblin chief, and that's changing Xanth for the better. He is her official Companion, which means he's away from home a lot, and his folks-but of course they understand about that."
"His folks miss having a child at home," Cynthia said. "I can guess how that must be."
"Yes. Gwenny and Jenny Elf lived with them for two years, but then Gwenny had to be chief, so-"
"Maybe I will take that youth elixir," Cynthia said. "I have a whole lot to learn about Xanth, and I'll just stumble around and get in trouble on my own. But if I could stay with a family of my own kind for a few years-"
"Oh, I'm sure they'd welcome you!" Gloha said.
"Then maybe if you are willing to see me safely there, and get me that youth elixir-"
"Certainly," Trent said. "It is the least I can do to make up for what I did. Come with us now, and this is the way it will be."
"Agreed." Cynthia Centaur extended her dainty hand. Magician Trent took it.
Gloha thought she might be mistaken, but she had the innocent little impression that Cynthia was rather taken with Magician Trent, whom she had never known as an old man.
Then the three of them walked up out of the Brain Coral's pool. They were about to be on their way.
Chapter 4
ESCAPE
In due course the four of them set out: Gloha, Trent, Cynthia, and Swiftmud, whom Trent had transformed into a lightning bug to help light their way. This wasn't ideal country for a creature of Swiftmud's natural size. The other human folk were comfortably ensconced in the Brain Coral's pool, awaiting that seemingly timeless interval when Trent would return for the fade-away party. Tandy had decided to wait with the elders, because this might be her last chance to visit her parents before they faded out. Gloha had promised to deliver a message to Smash Ogre, so he would know what was keeping Tandy, if he noticed.
They had Tandy's pass, which had been duly authenticated by the demons, goblins, water monsters, and such, because she was related to legitimate underworld denizens. In times past there had been strife between the various factions, but in recent decades they had settled into their own regions and left each other mostly alone. So there shouldn't be a problem; not too many folk wanted war to break out because of a silly border incident.
The passage was marked by green glow. As long as they stayed on that, they would be left alone. It was like an enchanted path, on the surface. There would be camping sites with food and potable water. Gloha had been a bit distressed by the description of the water, until Trent explained that this meant a clean drinking pot, not the other kind of pot.
The first checkpoint they came to was in demon country. There was a demon at a desk. He had a broad-brimmed blue hat and huge flat feet. "Whatcha business?" he demanded from the side of his mouth.
"We're going to the surface," Trent replied.
The demon surveyed them. There was barely room for his gaze to get out from under his visor. "Oh yeah, manface?"
Trent gave the correct answer according to the protocol: "Yeah."
"I haven't seen any of you before."
"We haven't seen you before either."
The demon considered that. "You wouldn't know me, because I'd have been in a different form." He puffed into a swirl of smoke to illustrate the point.
"But you'd have known us, if you'd seen us."
The demon re-formed, hat and all. "Right." He did not seem to be the smartest of his kind. "Pass, then. Just keep your noses clean."
"My nose isn't dirty," Gloha protested.
The demon merely looked at her as if she had said something stupid. That made her suspect she had.
They went on through the demon settlement. Demons didn't need houses, because they had no set mortal forms, and didn't need food, because they didn't eat, but they did have a culture of a sort. Gloha understood that there was even a Demon University where magic was taught, and of course the demons operated the Companions Game, which allowed selected Mundanes to visit Xanth if they didn't bother regular folk. But exactly what their culture was, no one could be sure. Maybe it was all pretense, to deceive observers. Demons sometimes amused themselves by fooling mortals. So when colored balloons floated by and popped into smoke that formed into faces with glistening tongues and teeth that then threatened to bite the heads off the travelers, Gloha knew to ignore them. When the path ahead became a writhing mass of serpent coils with dirty noses on each loop, Gloha walked on without hesitation, though conscious of the tease. When giant eyes opened on the floor, looking up and winking, she hesitated; she was still wearing her skirt. Suppose a demon announced the color of her panties?
"Oh, are you concerned about the footing on the stare-way?" Trent inquired. "That's readily taken care of." He picked up a handful of sand and threw it across the floor. The eyes blinked madly, turned red, teared, and finally had to close and fade out. "Now I'm sure the footing is better."
"It is, thank you," she replied with a smile.
There was a swirl of vapor. It formed into a rather pretty nude human female figure. "Why, I'd almost think that was Magician Trent, except for the age," the demoness said. "But it couldn't be, because Trent is mortal, and just about ready to kick the cask."
"The what?" Gloha asked.
"Basin, tub, pail, vessel, can, receptacle-"
"Bucket?" Trent offered helpfully.
"Whatever," the demoness said crossly. "What are you several mortal creatures doing here in the demon realm?"
"You must be Metria!" Gloha exclaimed. "I've heard of you!"
"Of course I'm Metria," the demoness replied. "I always have been and always will be, except when I'm not. How did you hear of me?"
"Crombie told me how he knew you when he was young. He said you wouldn't show him your panties."
"Well of course I wouldn't!" Metria said indignantly. "Do you think I'm a perverse?"
"You're a what?"
"Contrary, obstinate, balky, willfull, disagreeable, intractable-"
"I think you mean you're not abusive of family conventions," Trent said.
"Whatever," she agreed crossly. "Would you show a child your panty?"
"I would not," Trent said with a remarkably uncurved complexion.
"Or an antlery teenage male?"
"By no means."
"So there." A matching skirt and blouse outfit appeared on her body, and sure enough, no panty ever showed. "So who are you, really?"
"Why do you want to know?" he asked in return.
"I'm chronically curious. Why else?"
"I am Magician Trent."
"But I explaine
d why you aren't him, didn't I?"
"I took youth elixir."
"But only the Good Magician Humfrey and some unicorns know where the Fountain of Youth is, and they'll never tell."
"Humfrey gave me some elixir."
"I don't believe it. He's too grumpy. Transform somebody."
Trent gestured. The demoness became a blue toad with green warts.
The toad puffed into smoke. "I didn't mean me!" the smoke protested. In a moment the nude human figure was back, without panties. "But I suppose I can take your identity on faith. Who are these winged monsters?"
"I am Gloha Harpy-Goblin."
"And I am Cynthia Centaur."
The demoness squinted at them. "I don't think I've seen many of your kind before. Just Che Centaur's family."
"Is it a nice family?" Cynthia asked.
"You don't know? That's interesting." The demoness faded out.
"She's somewhat of a nuisance," Trent remarked. "But there's nothing to be done about her. She seldom does actual harm, at least."
"I thought she had been locked into the Companions Game," Gloha said, remembering something she had once heard.
A puff of smoke reappeared. "I served my time and got out on parole." It disappeared.
Gloha made a mental note: one could never be quite certain that a demon wasn't still around.
They walked on out of the demon realm. There were no more odd events. Evidently the demons had gotten bored with them. That was a relief.
The fungus along the marked route turned brownish. The air became chill. Gloha closed her wings closely around her body, insulating it with the feathers. Cynthia suffered less, because she had more furry mass, but she did take a jacket out of her backpack and put it on over her shirt to protect her maidenly human torso. Evidently she had never adopted the centaur mode of undress after gaining some experience with the form, and had retained some of her clothing in case of need. Trent, already competently garbed; seemed to have no problem.
The air proceeded from chill to frigid. Patches of frost appeared. The three stepped up the pace so as to warm themselves by the vigor of their exertion. Gloha would have been concerned if she didn't see that the trail-marking fungus continued, though now dark and dormant.
They turned a corner, entered a moderately large chamber-and came fact-to-snoot with a dragon. The creature had antennae instead of eyes, which made sense down here, but in other respects seemed formidable enough. It had dragonly form and mass, metallic overlapping dark gray-green scales, stoutly taloned feet, one and a half squintillion teeth, and an attitude. It moved forward, inhaling, growling inwardly.
"Wait!" Trent cried, advancing to meet it. "We have a pass for this path."
Too late. The dragon exhaled. A surge of snowy vapor blew him back. Ice crystallized on his body. He fell back into the girls, completely iced.
"It's a snow dragon!" Gloha exclaimed, appalled as the two of them automatically caught him before he hit the floor and shattered. "I thought all of them were white and in the winter mountains."
"Don't worry about that," Cynthia said. "Just get him back to safety and get him thawed."
She was right. They dragged the ice man back the way they had come, away from the dragon. Cynthia did most of the work, being much larger than Gloha. When they were around the corner and in a section of the tunnel too small for the bulk of the dragon, they laid him carefully on the floor. "Is he-?" Gloha asked, appalled.
"Not if we act promptly," Cynthia said. "The ice is on the outside. If we chip it off immediately, he shouldn't freeze inside."
They chipped at his body, and chunks of ice fell to the floor with tinkling sounds. "But his face-we must clear that so he can breathe," Gloha said. "But we can't just pound off the ice; we'd chip off his nose and lips too."
"You're right. We need to apply fast, gentle warmth. I think this means I have a pretext to do what I would have liked to do a year-I mean, seventy-one or -two years ago."
Gloha was bemused. "You mean?”
"Yes," she said with naughty determination. "I'm going to kiss him. It's in a decent cause, even if it's not completely nice."
Cynthia suited action to word. She reached down, put her hands on the Magician's shoulders, and hauled him up with the kind of strength a centaur could muster. He rose board-stiff, his feet still on the floor. Then she put her head down, aligned her face with his, and planted her lips very firmly on his for a wild wet kiss.
After a moment she lifted her head. "Hy hips are hrozen," she gasped.
In a quarter of a moment Gloha made sense of this. "Your lips are frozen," she repeated. "I'd better take over while you recover."
"Hyes." The layer of ice was flaking off Cynthia's face, but her lips remained attractively blue.
Gloha stood on tiptoe to reach the Magician's angled face, and planted her warm lips against his slightly thawed ones. She kissed him as firmly as she could. The cold struck through, but as her lips congealed she felt his softening. It was working! When she felt she had no more warmth in that region to give, she withdrew, and was gratified to see a thin trace of vapor issue from his mouth. He was starting to breathe again!
Meanwhile Cynthia had been breathing hard and smacking her lips together to get them warmed. She couldn't use her hands because they were holding Trent up for the kissing. "I think I can go another round now," she said bravely. She put her mouth to his mouth again.
Gloha's hands were free, and she used them to waggle her lips and flake the ice off them. Then she flexed them and breathed rapidly, using the warm air to complete the job. By the time her mouth had recovered, Cynthia's had iced up again.
But now Trent's mouth was clear of ice and his breath was pluming nicely. So Gloha tackled his right eye instead, which was frozen shut. She kissed it, and as the warmth loosened the ice, she licked it off. When it finally opened and blinked she knew it was thawed. But her mouth had congealed again, and her tongue wasn't speaking to her.
"Good idea," Cynthia said. "His mouth is done, and part of his tongue, but he needs his eyes too." She kissed the left eye.
His tongue? Gloha didn't inquire.
After that they worked on his nose, and his ears, and finally his face was done. Then they worked on the remainder of his body, taking turns hugging him close and chipping away the rest of the ice as it thawed. His clothing was hardly even wet; they had managed to get most of the ice off before it did more than melt around the edges.
Trent moved. "Hthank you, hladies," he said somewhat coldly. But the coldness was of the body, not of the heart. "There are whorse things than being khissed and hugged to Ihife by two Ihovely young lhadies."
Gloha and Cynthia exchanged a solid glance and a half. Then they exchanged a half-body flush. That was a significant achievement for each of them, because the centaur's clothing and fur normally concealed any such expression, and Gloha's skin was goblin dark. But in a moment steam was rising from both their faces.
"Don't waste that heat!" Trent cried. "I'm still cold." Indeed, he was shivering.
"In for a nickel, in for a dime," Cynthia said through her burning chagrin. She was referring to archaic Mundane coins reported to have the magic properties of getting things started or suddenly stopped.
They hauled the Magician up again and hugged him from either side, giving him the heat of their embarrassment. Soon enough he had been warmed. "I thank you both for saving my life," he said. "But perhaps we won't speak of this elsewhere. Others might not properly understand."
They emphatically agreed. It would be their secret. But even more secret was Gloha's private feeling. She had never actually kissed a man of any kind before, not directly on the mouth like that, and certainly had never done anything like licking off his face. Trent, rejuvenated as he was, had the body of a handsome young man. Now she realized that she had, on some suitably hidden level, rather liked the experience. She suspected that Cynthia had also, for she had admitted to being flustered by the Magician's aspect when she had first en
countered him. She might be a centaur now, but she retained her origin and upper front section as a human maiden. So perhaps she had had her revenge on Trent, if that was what it was. This had perhaps given each of them a taste of what it would be like to get really friendly with males of their own kind.
"But now," Trent continued, evincing the quality of leadership that made him a man, not to mention a former Magician-King, "we need to deal with that dragon.”
"Yes," they agreed together, evincing the quality of agreeability that made them innocent maidens, however much that innocence had been stained by the recent event. "I can of course transform it into something harmless, being now warned about its nature. But I don't want to do mischief by acting hastily. I did enough of that when I was as young as I now look." He glanced significantly at Cynthia, who then demonstrated that she had not expended quite all of her color before. "Do you think it was a misunderstanding, and the dragon iced me before realizing that we had a pass?"
Gloha considered. "I think the dragon could have sent another cold draft down this tunnel, and frozen us all, if it had wanted to. So maybe it was a misunderstanding."
"Yes, that makes sense," Cynthia agreed. "Maybe we should give it another chance."
"But if it inhales, I'll transform it," Trent said grimly. They advanced tentatively around the corner again. The dragon was there. "I say, old chap-we have a pass, you know," the Magician said.
The dragon nodded. Its snoot was not crafted for apology, but it was evidently making the effort.
"So if you will just let us pass without molestation, we'll just forget this little misunderstanding," Trent continued.
The dragon nodded again. So the three of them approached it. But Gloha noted that the Magician's hand was ready to gesture, just in case. She doubted that it was the gesture that did it; probably the motion was just to get his hand within transformation range of the target. But it was clear that Trent was not one to be caught twice the same way. He might look young, but he had the better part of a century's experience. Which might be the reason Crombie's magic had pointed him out to help on this quest: Gloha was a trifle short on experience, and this more than made up the difference.