Finder considered. “As it happens, we do have a surplus prince. He is so aggressive that normal princesses can’t handle him. He simply wants too much woman. He is not political; I doubt the queendom thing would bother him, provided she is serious about those other respects.”

  “She is,” Sherlock said. Again Vinia appreciated their fortune in enlisting a royal adult: he could refer obliquely to Conspiracy things in a manner that the children could not. Benny could have done it, but it was better coming from a royal person.

  The king nodded. “I will summon him forthwith, so that he can see the holo. His name is Furioso.”

  Soon Prince Furioso was ushered in. His deformity was immediately apparent: he had the wildest red-and-yellow hair Vinia had seen on any human or creature, male or female. It erupted from his head in furious tangles, like a fire freshened by tormenting flurries of wind, and charged turbulently all the way to the floor in the manner of chaotic river rapids, completely undisciplined. Maybe he really was hungry for more than any woman could provide, but it was possible he was forced into a role by that aggressive hair.

  Vinia got an idea. “Before he sees Elga,” she murmured to Ion, “could we talk with him? We might be able to help him.”

  “Do it,” Ion said, trusting her.

  Vinia approached the prince, smiling ingratiatingly. “Please, Prince Furioso, I am Vinia, of the servant class. Could Prince Ion converse with you? He has a small gift for you.”

  Surprised, the elf glanced at the king. Finder nodded, having had recent experience with Ion’s magic. So Furioso accompanied her to Ion. “What’s on your mind, Prince?”

  “It occurred to Prince Ion that you might have a problem with your hair,” Vinia said. “He is a Magician. He has a potent magic conditioner that might help.” She knew of it because once she had gotten curse burrs stuck in her hair, and Ion had used the conditioner to drive them efficiently out.

  “Nothing helps,” Furioso said gruffly. “I can’t even iron it flat. It’s my curse.”

  Ion was already fishing out a vial. “Try this.”

  Furioso took the vial, uncapped it, and poured it dismissively over his head. “Nothing,” he repeated.

  But his hair was already changing. It undulated like a traveling serpent, smoothing out in a sinuous wave that progressed from his head on down to his feet. The hair was still as long as he was, but now it was completely tame. He had become a fireberry blond, as it were.

  There was a murmur of awe from the male and female servants. The visiting Magician had scored again.

  “Our visitors are looking for a prince to join a captive princess,” King Finder said. “They have a holo she made. I thought you might be interested.” Coming from the king, that meant that Furioso had better be interested.

  Furioso lifted a hank of his docile hair in his hands. He, too, was impressed by Ion’s magic. “I am interested,” he said, and he clearly meant it.

  Hilda invoked the holo. Furioso watched, fascinated. “I had heard of her, from a prior generation, but had not realized how pretty she was. Is. She seems spirited. Maybe feminists are more robust than ordinary women. Maybe she could accommodate me. I am willing to meet her, without promising any commitment. Will that do?”

  “Robust,” Hilda said. “Does that mean handling violence?”

  “Not at all. The opposite. Plenty of love. I just prefer a lot of woman.”

  Vinia could see that they were having a problem of Conspiracy censorship.

  “As in a large woman?” Hilda asked. “Elga is not that.”

  “I mean one who can handle a lot of man.”

  The Conspiracy was not going to let them understand.

  Hilda considered. Vinia, knowing her, suspected that Hilda was weighing in her mind how effective a love spell might be, should Elga like Furioso but he not wanting to commit to her. “Why don’t you come with us, and meet her, and see how the two of you connect?”

  “Good idea,” he agreed. “Frankly, just about anything would be better than dawdling here forever, and she seems a lot better than nothing. In fact I like the notion of a spirited princess.”

  But if Elga were not enough woman for him, what then? Would they be abruptly short a prince? Would that void the whole deal? That worried Vinia, and she know it worried Hilda. But it seemed they would simply have to gamble.

  Unless maybe Hilda sewed a pair of magically hot panties for Elga. That would guarantee his interest. But what about Elga’s interest? There were invisible clouds of doubt floating here.

  Hilda decided. “Come with us, and we’ll see. If it doesn’t work out, maybe we can figure out something else.”

  “Agreed.”

  They turned to face King Finder. “I will go with these folk,” Furioso said. “We will see what we will see.”

  “Excellent,” the king said. “Now let’s celebrate with a royal feast.”

  “Time is almost up,” Vinia whispered to Hilda. “The accommodation spell.”

  Hilda nodded. She caught Ion’s eye and made a motion as if uncorking a vial, reminding him.

  “We regret we can’t stay,” Ion said. “Our accommodation spell lasts only an hour, and we don’t want to risk reverting here in your lovely palace.” He hardly needed to say how destructive that could be for all parties.

  The king tried to mask a royal shudder. “Excellent point. We are getting along so well I had forgotten. Then we must bid you a fond farewell. But do send word how it works out at the other end.”

  “We will,” Ion agreed. Then the six of them boarded the carpet and took off, Benny at the helm.

  Vinia had the impression that this was to an extent an act. They did not want to outstay the spell, true, but it could have been renewed. The king could have hosted a banquet, but probably wanted to get Furioso on his way before he could change his mind. So it was a conspiracy of manners that the royals probably all understood. They really were a class unto themselves.

  They zoomed along the tunnel. “This is an impressive carpet,” Furioso remarked. “How did you come by it?”

  “I sewed it,” Hilda said. “That’s my magic.”

  “So you’re a Sorceress!”

  “Yes.”

  “You will surely be a lot of woman when you grow up.”

  Hilda laughed. “I wish I knew exactly what that means!”

  “Let it wait. I am satisfied to have joined your party. I understand you made the king a gift like none other, ever.”

  “We were just following the protocol,” Ion said.

  “And that you are collecting princes for a feminist kingdom.”

  “The Queendom of Thanx,” Hilda said.

  “Do your princesses have any experience organizing a kingdom or queendom?”

  “None,” Ion said. “They are very female creatures.”

  “Then you will need the assistance of the princes, all of whom will have been trained for this sort of thing.”

  Ion and Hilda nodded together. They knew of the distinctions in training for the genders.

  “I will be glad to help in whatever manner I am able,” Furioso said. The taming of his hair seemed to have tamed his attitude somewhat as well. “I really appreciate what you have done for my hair.”

  Just so.

  They emerged from the tunnel and made the right angle turn up the tree. Then they flowed up into the sky.

  Just in time. The spell faded and the outside world seemed to change, becoming smaller. Vinia still marveled at the way appearance overlapped reality. They might not really have been as small as the fee, but they had interacted with the fee court, and brought out a prince.

  Vinia looked at Furioso. He was now small, elf size. He had not been part of the spell, and so had not changed.

  “Welcome to our size,” Ion said.

  “Actually the fee can assume human size if we so choose,” Furioso said. “But it lasts only for an hour or less, like your accommodation spell. I will demonstrate.” And suddenly he expanded to full human size. “But there’s no sense expending my magic needlessly,” the larger man said. Then he reverted to elf size. “For the right woman I would happily do it, but for traveling it is unnecessary,” the elf concluded.

  Just so, again.

  Chapter 5

  Ladies

  “Now for the next prince,” Hilda said as she started knitting. To her, sewing, knitting, and crocheting were all part of her magic. “Who is he?”

  “Or she,” Ion said. “We need a goblin princess.”

  “A lesbian,” Hilda agreed. “That may be more of a challenge.” She glanced at Furioso. “You wouldn’t happen to know of one, would you?” Vinia knew it was a facetious question. Lesbians did not grow on trees, and many of those who existed did not advertise. Unless the luck of the ring really was working.

  “Actually, I do,” Furioso said, surprisingly. “When I ran out of fee princesses to annoy, I tried dating a gobliness princess. She was close enough to my size to require no adjustment. I liked her. She was nice, and passionate in bed. She had found a bedbug that made into a fine bed for the occasion, complete with fresh sheets.” His lips quirked. “I understand that Mundanes don’t like bedbugs. Can’t think why. Anyway, she might even have been The One. But then she came out.”

  This was beyond coincidence. The luck was working.

  “She left the mound?” Hilda asked as she continued knitting.

  Furioso smiled, as did Sherlock and Benny. “This is a Conspiracy thing. Let’s see if I can put it pasteurize.”

  “Past your eyes,” Hilda said. “We may be children, but we do pick up on puns. Just say it flat out, and if the Conspiracy doesn’t bleep it out, it’s okay.”

  He nodded. “She confessed to being lesbian. It seems that she gave the hetero style her best try, and a very good try it was, but it just didn’t work for her, so she told me the truth. It wasn’t me, it was her. Her preference for a woman. So it was over, but we remain friends.”

  “So to be a lesbian is not to hate men,” Vinia said. She knew the answer but wanted to verify his take on it.

  “Not at all to hate men,” he agreed. “She has been very kind to me. She just doesn’t want to marry me.” He smiled. “She has told me that she wishes she could get hold of a vial of mnemonic plague to spread through her goblin mound. She said it humorously, but I suspect there’s a bit of seriousness there.”

  “What kind of plague?” Vinia asked.

  Furioso smiled again. “Mnemonic. It’s not a disease, exactly. It messes with memory, or in the case of forgetful folk like the fauns and nymphs, it helps them to remember beyond one day. It can be directed by the person who releases it, limiting it to particular aspects, so that there is not total amnesia. If she spread it among goblins of the mound, they would forget she was lesbian and accept her more readily. But of course such a potion may not even exist.” He shrugged. “Too bad she didn’t have the talent of omission. Then she could blank out things ranging from the Gap Chasm to awareness of her female preference.”

  Now Ion, Benny, and Sherlock were paying quiet attention. An incidental dialogue had abruptly turned highly relevant. Ion was especially interested. Maybe he had a vial of that very elixir and was keeping it private. Yet Vinia’s instinct sounded a warning background note. This seemed too easy.

  “So you can contact her?” Hilda asked. “Is she close?”

  “Reasonably close. It was the first goblin tribe I visited.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Georgia. Does it matter?”

  “Yes.” Hilda glanced at Vinia. “Orient on her.”

  Vinia spoke to her ring. “Princess Georgia Goblin.” The glow formed, indicating the direction. Benny saw it and steered the carpet that way.

  “That is the direction of her mound,” Furioso said. “You have magic, Vinia?”

  So he had picked up her name from her passing introduction. She thought he had not really noticed her, because she wasn’t royal. Servants tended to be passed off as items of furniture. “I do, but this is not it.”

  “That doesn’t look like a Promise Ring.” He smiled. “No, I can’t see invisible things. It showed briefly when you invoked it.”

  She appreciate the explanation. “Promise Ring?”

  “The wearer must follow through on a promise and can’t take it off until then.”

  Vinia smiled. “Almost. It is a magic ring Dara Demoness gave me that enables me to orient on people. I do feel I should not remove it until I have accomplished what I need to and can return it to her.”

  “I have heard of her. Wife of the human Good Magician?”

  “Designated Wife,” Vinia agreed, impressed again.

  “If I may ask, what is your magic, Vinia?”

  He was treating her courteously. Again, the warning note sounded in her mind. Was he assessing her for some hidden purpose? Sometimes princes had errands for servant girls that the Conspiracy blanked out. Vinia had seen it at the court of Adamant. Furioso was an elf only a fraction of her size, but he was a prince, which meant that he ranked above her significantly as a person of note. He could also assume her size, for a while. That could be trouble. But she had to answer. “I am short-range telekinetic.”

  “I see you are wary of me, Vinia. I assure you I mean you no mischief. I merely like to know whose company I keep.”

  “She enables me to walk, as I am lame,” Ion said. “She is also my girlfriend.” There was a background haze of warning in his tone. Not even a prince messed with the girlfriend of a Magician of any age, regardless of her class.

  “Ah, so when the two of you walked together to the carpet, it was not mere camaraderie,” Furioso said.

  “Not,” Ion agreed. “On more than one count.”

  “And Benny is my boyfriend,” Hilda said.

  “They are an extremely tight-knit foursome,” Sherlock said.

  “Thank you,” Furioso said. “I believe I have it straight now.”

  Hilda completed the piece she was knitting. “Here is something you may find useful, Furioso.” She held it up.

  The elf was surprised. “It looks like a small cap. I have never been able to wear one of those. My hair tosses them off.”

  “Try it.”

  He accepted the cap and put it on his head. His long hair curled around and slid under the cap, like a thick cord being drawn into a container. There appeared to be far too much hair to fit, yet the length of it slid under the cap and disappeared. In perhaps a moment and a half all of it was gone, and he was left wearing only the cap. “I don’t think I understand.”

  Hilda held up a mirror so that Furioso could see himself. He looked entirely ordinary, with short hair.

  Amazed, he lifted the cap off his head. The hair tumbled out, as long as ever.

  “It’s a magic container,” Vinia explained. “The hat will hold all your hair, regardless of its volume.”

  “This eliminates my deformity,” Furioso said, awed as he set the cap back on his head and the hair snaked back into it. “And you knitted it while we talked!”

  “It’s my talent,” Hilda said. “I sew magic into cloth.”

  “Some Magician-caliber magic is obvious,” Benny said. “Like transforming folk into toads or blasting mountains apart. Some is more subtle, like immunity to toxins or sewing material whose magic manifests later. But they are of similar scope.”

  Furioso nodded. “I mean no offense, but I would never want to have either the young princess or her brother mad at me. I have never seen magic like this.”

  Both Ion and Hilda nodded. They had made their point. They were friendly, and accommodating, but not to be messed with. Not even by a prince. Ever. Vinia was glad to see it, as it meant the fee would treat them with genuine respect. There would be no mischief here.

  Meanwhile Hilda was sewing again. “Your separate quarters,” she explained to Furioso.

  “It seems that every descendant of the Magician Bink is fated to have Magician-caliber magic,” Sherlock said. “They don’t necessarily advertise it, but it is there. Thus even two children can undertake a mission that might daunt any ordinary person.”

  “I have heard that about the descendants,” Furioso agreed. “I had not before seen any in action. That is a most distinguished royal line.”

  “Now let’s all get to know each other better,” Sherlock said. “To pass the time while traveling.”

  The others were happy to agree.

  “Goblins can be ornery,” Vinia said. “Should we take precautions?”

  “Once again my friend has the common sense we overlooked,” Hilda said. “We have not dealt directly with goblins before. How should we prepare?”

  “Protection against outrageous slings and arrows would be wise,” Sherlock said. “But since we come asking a favor, perhaps some token gift would be in order for King Gourmand.” He smiled. “I understand he likes to eat.”

  “He does,” Furioso said. “Especially rare delicacies, like dragontail soup or invisiBull steak.”

  Benny laughed. “So common boot rear would not be his style.”

  “Not,” Furioso agreed with a smile.

  That gave Vinia an idea. “I have heard there is a rare variant called toot rear. No need to describe its effect.”

  “He would not appreciate that,” Furioso said.

  “To serve to someone he privately disliked,” Vinia said.

  Furioso whistled. “That he would love. He is, shall we say, nasty when balked.”

  A mean one. It was best to be warned.

  Ion reached into his bag and brought out a bottle of boot rear. He took a vial and poured a few drops of its liquid into the bottle. “Potent toot rear,” he announced. “I used conversion elixir.”

  “But just in case,” Sherlock said. “You do have some defense against an attack? Just in case they should take something amiss?” Goblins did have a reputation.