"Oh, that's right-you humans are sensitive about that sort of thing, aren't you! How quaint!"

"Quaint," he agreed. Then, not wishing to discuss the matter further, he closed his eyes, and in a moment he slept.

She woke him in deep darkness. "Esk! Esk!" she whispered urgently.

It took him a moment to get oriented. "Oh, yes, my turn to guard."

"No, I think a dragon's coming."

Suddenly he was completely alert. "Where?"

"From ahead. I smell the smoke. After my prior experience, I am more sensitive to that signal."

Now Esk smelled it too. "That's dragon, all right! I wish I could see it so I could know when to tell it no."

"Use your staff," she suggested. "I'll use mine, too."

"But I can't hit the dragon if I can't see it!"

"I mean as a sensing device. Hold it out in front of you, and when-"

"Right." He hefted his staff and pointed it toward the smell of smoke.

Now they listened, as the dragon huffed closer. Was his staff pointed correctly? Suppose the dragon slid under it or climbed over it? The monster seemed very close! The odor of the smoke was strong. If he waited too long, and got chomped before he- "No!" he cried.

The huffing paused. "It's still some distance away," Chex murmured reprovingly. "Does your protest work at a distance?"

"No," Esk said, chagrined.

The dragon seemed to have paused because of the sound of his voice. Now it had a good notion where he was. It growled and charged.

"No!" Esk cried again. "NoNoNoNoNoNo!"

The dragon made a disgusted noise and retreated. They heard the scrabble of its claws on the path. "One of those nos must have scored," Chex said.

"Um," he agreed, embarra.s.sed. He knew he had panicked, and come reasonably close to making a fool of himself. Again.

"I'm glad you are here," she said. "I could not have diverted it in the dark, and perhaps not in the daytime either. I would have had to run- and that has its own hazards, in the dark."

"My turn to keep watch," he said, preferring to change the subject.

"As you wish." He heard a gentle thunk as she lowered her body to the path. He wondered how the forepart of a centaur slept; did it lie flat on the ground or remain vertical? But he didn't care to inquire.

It turned out that she had kept watch for most of the night. Before very long the sky to the east lightened, and dawn was on the way.

As the morning arrived, he saw that neither surmise was quite right. Chex's humanoid torso was neither upright nor flat as she slept, but half-leaning back on her equine torso, above her folded wings. Her arms were clasped below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s-her pectoral muscles, he corrected himself. Her brown hair merged prettily enough with her mane. She was right, he thought; the hue of her hair matched his exactly, as if they were brother and sister. Could there be siblings of different species? Perhaps not directly, but if they had been born at the same time, when the order for deliveries was for brown hair and gray eyes . . . well, with magic, anything was possible. At any rate, she was a very pretty figure in this repose.

A beam of sunlight speared down through a gap in the foliage and touched her face. Chex woke, blinking. "Oh, it's morning!" she exclaimed, lifting first her upper section, then her remaining body. "Let me urinate, and we can get moving." She stood at the side of the path, spread her rear legs and did it, while Esk stood startled. He knew that such things were unimportant to centaurs, and that he should simply accept her ways without reaction, but he knew he was about to flush embarra.s.singly.

Then he had a bright notion. "Me too," he said, and quickly made his way to a concealing bush and did his own business. She would think it was because of his quaint human modesty, and that was true, but it was mainly to give himself a chance to clear his flush before rejoining her.

"You really ought to do something about that foible," she remarked innocently as she plucked a pie from an overhanging tree. Her greater height, in the front section, caused her breas-her pectoral muscles to lift to his eye level as she reached up.

Esk did not respond, because he wasn't sure to which foible she referred. But he suspected she was right, and he resolved to try to learn how to perform natural functions in her sight without blushing. After all, each culture had its own ways, and he wasn't among human beings now. Certainly he never wanted to be caught staring at what he wasn't supposed to notice anyway.

She handed him the pie and reached for another. "Thank you," he said, fixing his gaze on the pie. But he didn't even notice what kind it was; he just bit into it and chewed.

They resumed their walk, and after an hour came to an intersection. "There it is!" Chex exclaimed happily, seeming not at all dismayed at this proof of her prior oversight. "The path I missed!"

"But there are two," Esk pointed out. "Which should we take-the one going north or the one going south?"

"That depends on whether the path we're on pa.s.ses north or south of the Good Magician's castle."

"I know the Gap Chasm is north, but I don't know how far," Esk said. "Maybe if the north path leads there-"

"Then the south one leads to the castle," she finished. "So let's try the south, and if it's wrong, why, we'll just go north. It can't be far now."

They turned south. The trees grew larger, putting the path in the gloom of perpetual shade; then they grew smaller, letting the sun shine down hotly. "I hope we encounter water soon," Chex said. "I'm sweating."

Esk hadn't realized that females of any persuasion sweated, but certainly her brown coat was glistening. "Maybe if you fanned yourself with your wings-" he suggested.

"Why, I never thought of that," she said. "I need to exercise them anyway." She spread her wings and moved them, generating a draft whose fringe he could feel. "Yes, that's much better, thank you."

The way opened out further, and now they came to a small lake. The path crossed it, pa.s.sing right along the surface of the water.

They exchanged a glance. "Can a path go on water?" Chex asked.

"If it's an enchanted path," Esk replied doubtfully.

"Well, we'll see." She stepped forward-and her front hooves pa.s.sed through the visible path and sank into the water with splashes.

Immediately, there was a stir in the lake. A wake appeared behind something huge and dark that was speeding toward them. No part of it quite broke the surface, and its outline was obscured by the refraction of the water, but it seemed exceedingly sure of itself.

Chex quickly stepped back. "I think we should go around the lake," she said. "If it was enchanted to enable travelers to cross over the water, that magic has been lost."

"Good thought," Esk agreed.

They started around, but the reeds at the edge twisted and bent toward them, showing moist surfaces that looked somewhat toothy. Esk knocked several away with his staff, and they withdrew with faint ugly hisses-but those on the other side leaned closer.

"Esk, I think we had better move rather quickly through this section," Chex said. "The footing beneath seems fairly firm; I believe I could carry you, if you would not consider this to be an indiscretion on my part. Then I could gallop-"

"Another good thought!" he said quickly.

He gave her his staff to hold, then she put her right hand back over her torso, and he took hold of it from her left and she helped draw him up onto her back. "Take good hold of my mane," she advised.

He got a double handhold, up between her wings. Then she moved out, quickly advancing from walk to trot to gallop, while he hung on somewhat desperately. Water splashed up from her hooves.

About halfway around the lake, Chex turned her head around to face him. Esk was startled by the elasticity of her torso; from what would have been the human waist, she was able to twist halfway, and her neck twisted the other half, so that she was abruptly facing him, with her chest in profile. "I wonder if you could take your staff?" she inquired.

Then he saw her concern. Several rather mean looking birds were winging toward them. Their necks were crooked and their beaks curved, and they looked hungry.

"If you go slowly, I'll try to fend them off," he said, as he unclenched his fingers from her mane and took back his staff.

She slowed to a walk, using her own staff to knock at the leaning reeds. He balanced himself and squinted at the ugly birds. He thought he could stop them, if they came down singly.

But about five of them folded their wings partway and dived at him together. Their beaks looked very st.u.r.dy and sharp.

"No!" he cried as they converged.

It was almost too late for them to change course. Two birds plummeted into the water. Two more swooped just overhead, striving desperately to rise. The fifth did a crazy wiggle in air, using its wings to brake, and barely managed to reverse course before colliding with Chex's shoulder.

The wake in deeper water was coming toward them again. Esk tucked the staff under one arm and grabbed new holds on the mane. "Resume speed!" he said.

Chex resumed, flapping her wings to a.s.sist her progress. They made it around the rest of the lake without further event, rejoining the path.

Esk slid down. "I think we make a fair team," he said. "You have the go, and I have the stop."

"That's a nice way to put it," she agreed. "I was terrified!"

"Well, you're a filly; you're supposed to be frightened of violence."

"And you aren't?"

"Yes, I'm not supposed to be." He smiled. "Just don't ask me how it really is."

"No questions," she agreed.

The more he got to know her, the better he liked her. Despite their differences of culture, she tended to understand the fundamentals well enough.

They walked again. Soon they encountered a mountain. The path went through it, forming a dark tunnel around itself.

They paused. "It's supposed to be safe," Esk said. "But after the dragons and the lake, I'm nervous."

"Suppose we went in-and it wasn't safe?"

"Let's not go in."

"I like your thinking."

"But how do we get around it? I see tangle trees on the slopes."

"And dozens more of those birds roosting on the upper slopes," she said. "You know, I am quite sure there was no such mountain or tunnel on the map my dam showed me."

"Your d.a.m.n what?" he asked, disgruntled by her language.

"My dam. My-you would call it mother."

"I wouldn't call my mother a d.a.m.n anything!"

She laughed. "I suspect we have a barrier of communication. I mean that my mother's map did not have this particular feature of geography on it, so this must be the wrong path."

"Oh. Yes. Then we shouldn't have to try to pa.s.s this d.a.m.n-this mother of a mountain."

She looked at him somewhat curiously. Evidently the barrier was still in operation. But they were agreed. They would turn back and try the north fork. He did not relish the return trip around the lake, but at least that was a known hazard.

Chapter 3. Volney.

The lake wasn't fun, but this time they were prepared, and they made it around without damage. They celebrated by pausing for lunch and drink. Chex had a cup she produced from her pack, with which she dipped water from the fringe of the lake and drank delicately. Then they traveled at a more leisurely pace north. In due course they reached the intersection, and this time proceeded along the north extension.

Yet another little dragon appeared. "I'm fed up with this!" Esk exclaimed. He charged forward, wielding his staff, feeling his ogre strength manifesting unbidden. He struck the dragon on the head, then rammed the staff under its body, picked it up, and heaved it into the forest. The dragon was not actually hurt, but was so surprised that it scuttled for cover elsewhere.

Chex was amazed. "That dragon weighed as much as you!" she exclaimed. "Yet you tossed it like a toy!"

"I told you, I'm quarter ogre," he said, relaxing. "Every so often something triggers it, and I do something ogreish."

"Evidently so," she agreed. "I can't say I was ever partial to ogres, but I must confess it was a pleasure watching that dragon fly!"

"It would be more of a pleasure if I could summon that power at will," he said. "But it's involuntary, like a sneeze, and it doesn't last long. My father is much more of an ogre than I am, and my grandfather Crunch-"

"I'm happy with you," she said quickly. "After all, an ogre's intellect is inversely proportional to his strength."

"And his strength is directly proportional to his ugliness," he added.

"And to his taste for violence," she agreed.

"Well, of course. A good ogre can make a medium dragon turn tail just by smiling at it."

"A good ogre would do the same for me!"

"While a good ogress can sour milk by looking at it."

"And turn it to petrified cheese by breathing on it," she concluded. "Enough of ogres, let's see if we can reach the Good Magician's castle before nightfall."

They resumed their trek The path wound onward, finding its way into craggy country that hinted of the great Gap Chasm to come "This isn't promising," Chex muttered.

Esk didn't comment, because he agreed. Since this was the fourth direction they were exploring, one way or another, and there were no more, it had to be the one.

There was a sound ahead "Not yet another dragon!" Chex exclaimed impatiently "Those little monsters are positively swarming!"

"It's not growling," Esk pointed out.

"True But it's not walking like a man or a centaur "