"But we're in the gourd," Olive said. "We can't break eye contact with the peephole on our own."

  "Then I'm not sure what would happen," Jenny said. "Maybe you'd just lose consciousness until the peephole contact was broken. But there's no sense in being careless."

  "No sense at all," Olive agreed.

  Jumper brought out one of his collection of vials. He emptied it into his mouth. He shrank into manform. Naturally he had no clothes.

  "Well, now," Dawn said brightly, flashing her bra.

  "Indeed," Eve agreed, flashing her panties.

  Jumper did not freak out, thanks to the training Angie Ina had given him. But he did react. He couldn't help it. The two princesses were double-teaming him, feeding illicit images into both of his human eyes at once, and they were extremely attractive girls.

  Then he became aware of the others. Olive was looking faint, while Phanta's gaze was narrowing assessingly. Those were definitely not good signs.

  "Oh, for s**t's sake," Haughty said. Considering how calloused she was as a harpy, that was alarming.

  "Oh, my," Jenny said, blushing. Taking into account that she was married to a virile werewolf, that suggested the magnitude of the problem.

  Wenda, womanfully averting her direct gaze, hurried to him with lost clothing she had found. "Yew wood knot want to go naked," she said, sending a wooden glare at the two princesses, who were giggling naughtily. She helped him put the pants on, so that his reaction was suitably covered up.

  Dawn and Eve might be Sorceresses, but they were also mischievous teens. Yet the others did not seem to be entirely dismayed, again except for Wenda.

  Fortunately Haughty changed the subject. "If Sammy's guiding you there, what about Claire and Kitten Kaboodle?"

  "They're staying with us," Olive said, stroking Claire.

  "We like them," Phanta agreed, cuddling Kaboodle.

  "And we have notes to compare with Jenny Elf," Dawn said. "It has been some time since we last visited with her."

  "Yes, we want to know what married life is like," Eve said. "Once we settle which of us gets the man."

  "There's something else, maybe irrelevant," Jenny said. "I was reminded of it by Jumper's, um, display."

  "You didn't get enough of a look?" Haughty inquired, as Jumper fidgeted, embarrassed.

  "I got more than enough. It's that what happens in the dream realm, isn't necessarily real in the real realm. So some things that happen are more apparent than real."

  "It was quite apparent," Haughty said.

  "I dew knot understand," Wenda said.

  "Try a specific," Olive suggested, beginning to catch on.

  Jenny flushed faintly. "Well, for example, if a boy were to kiss a girl in a dream, that wouldn't be the same as kissing her in waking life. She might not even know about it, if it was only his dream."

  "Suppose she did know about it?" Maeve asked. "Maybe even dream the same dream?"

  "That would be more of a mutual experience," Jenny agreed. "But still not the same as doing it solidly."

  "How about a communal dream, like this one?" Dawn asked brightly.

  "That would be real on one level. They would be sharing their affection. But still not, well—"

  "Out with it, moons girl!" Haughty snapped.

  Jenny visibly braced herself. "If they summoned the stork, the signal wouldn't go out. Because that requires a, um, physical interaction.

  Not a dreamed one. It's in the big book of stork rules."

  "No signal?" Maeve asked, more interested than was perhaps seemly.

  "Oho!" Haughty exclaimed. "A license to f**k!"

  "Or at least to be a bit freer than usual," Phanta said thoughtfully. "A girl might have more fun than she would care to risk in real life."

  "Knot that she wood," Wenda said primly.

  "Not that she would," Phanta agreed. But she did not seem to have a full measure of sincerity.

  They seemed to be well settled in for the duration. "We shouldn't be long," Jumper said, taking the sword from Maeve. It immediately strengthened his arm and body, making him feel bold. It might be a symbol, but it was a powerful one.

  "Sammy, find the man this belongs to," Maeve told the cat.

  Sammy had been snoozing, but now he took off. "Wait for us!" Maeve cried, but the cat never paused. They scrambled desperately to keep up with him.

  There followed another melange of images as they plowed through the dream sets. Jumper hadn't thought to ask whether the deliveries had to be made inside or outside of the dream realm, but since they were locked in until they were let out from outside, they must be within.

  Then Sammy drew up at a small castle. Its drawbridge was up, and its walls were blocked with stones. Only a wisp of smoke from a high chimney suggested that anyone was inside.

  Jumper and Maeve drew up beside the cat, panting. It had been quite a run. "This is where he is?" Jumper gasped.

  Sammy lay down and licked his paw. That seemed to be answer enough.

  "How are we going to get in to see him?" Maeve asked. She was still breathing hard, and Jumper couldn't help noticing that despite the human clothing, this did intriguing things for her body.

  "I suppose we can knock on the door."

  Then came a distraction. A birdlike creature came flying around the castle, orienting on them. "What is that?" Jumper asked.

  "I don't know. It's not a dragon or a griffin."

  The creature landed before them. "I am Fletcher Flion. A winged lion who can speak your stupid dialect."

  "Nice to meet you," Jumper said, remembering the human convention. "I am Jumper, and this is Maeve. We are here to deliver something to Warren Warrior."

  "Too bad. No one interacts with that coward until I do, and thereafter it will be too late, because he will be dead."

  "Listen, animal—" Maeve started, but Jumper cautioned her with what would have been a sharp glance from his upper right eye. In this body that turned out to be his right ear, but it had the same effect. She did not want to give away her nature.

  "I am afraid we must insist," Jumper said. "We are going in to see him."

  "And I must insist: you shall not. I have challenged Warren to come out and meet me in fair combat, and I am laying siege to the castle until he does so."

  This time Jumper remembered to use his human eye to exchange a glance with Maeve. "You take the sword inside," he said, "while I deal with this balky creature." He handed the sword to her.

  "You shall not," the flion said. "My minions will stop you." He made a roar, and two more flions appeared from behind the castle, flying rapidly in.

  They came to land before Jumper and Maeve, two sleek females. "I am Sharon," one said.

  "I am Sharoff," the other said.

  Shar On and Shar Off. Jumper was coming to appreciate why some folk groaned at puns.

  Fletcher took off and resumed circling the castle, screaming challenges to the warrior inside, leaving the dirty work to the females. Flions, it seemed, were like that.

  "All we want to do," Jumper said, "is make a delivery inside that castle. Why do you oppose this?"

  "Fletcher has a grudge," Sharon said.

  "And we do what Fletcher says," Sharoff said.

  "So you won't let us pass in peace?"

  "We won't let you pass at all," Sharon said.

  "Then it must be war," Jumper said with regret.

  "But you have only one sword," Sharoff said. "We will dispatch the unarmed one first, than gang up on the other."

  Maeve smiled. "We will make it easy for you. Neither has the sword."

  She plunged it into the ground between them.

  "Then you are even bigger fools than you look," Sharon said.

  "And you both look quite fleshy and tasty," Sharoff said. "As does your cat."

  Sammy remained where he was, unconcerned.

  "Give us a moment to strip," Jumper said. "We don't want to mess up our clothes." He started undressing, while keeping a wary eye on the flions.

  Maeve, thus given leave, stripped also. She finished by removing her wax teeth. She stood revealed as a maenad.

  "This grows interesting," Sharon said, gazing at Jumper's body. "I will enjoy chewing on that meat." He wasn't sure exactly what part of him she was looking at.

  "I've always wanted to devour a maenad," Sharoff said.

  Then the two of them charged.

  Jumper stood his ground. He reached out with his two strong human hands and caught the flion by her front shoulders. Jenny was right: he had retained his spider strength. He heaved Sharon into the air so that she was standing on her hind legs, facing him. Her leonine head was unable to strike at him. "Now we can do this the hard way or the easy way," he said.

  She didn't flinch. "What is the hard way?"

  "I let go of you and you fly away, leaving us alone."

  "That's too hard for me. What is the easy way?"

  "I bite off your head." Too late he remembered that he wasn't a spider at the moment. Part of his strength was because his two human arms were actually four spider legs, doubling their effect.

  Meanwhile Maeve had evidently retained her own strength and viciousness. She was clawing with sharp nails and biting with pointed teeth, having abandoned any pretense of feminine gentleness. The flion was hard pressed.

  Sharon shifted in his grasp. Her body thinned down. Her head lost its mane and shrank into a small one. Her wings disappeared. She was now a lovely human woman. "Yes, I am a shape changer," she said. "Now bite my head off, big man."

  His bluff had been called. Jumper opened his mouth wide. And discovered that it wasn't only his spider strength he retained. His mouth opened wider than his face. He could engulf her head.

  "You seem to have defeated me," she murmured, unalarmed. It was almost as if she wasn't serious about the fight. "Postpone your bite for a while, and use me for my obvious purpose." She inhaled, making her bare chest swell. It was a most remarkable effect. "If I do not please you, then you can bite off my head."

  The oddest thing was that he was tempted. Angie had shown him what fun a willing woman could be.

  "Beware," Maeve murmured.

  Jumper glanced at her. She had overpowered Sharoff and had a haunch ready for chomping.

  That reminded Jumper that Sharon was not really a lovely woman.

  Maeve was that. Sharon was a shape-shifted lioness. If he spared her even a moment, she would likely turn on him and rend him limb from limb.

  "Sorry," he said, and opened his mouth again.

  "Bleep," she swore, and shifted into a sinuous snake that slipped from his grasp and slithered away. She had taken the hard way.

  At that point Sharoff also changed to a snake and slithered away, leaving Maeve with her mouth open, her bite of flesh gone before she could savor it.

  "Well, at least we won," she said, halfway philosophically. She pulled the unused sword out of the ground and carried it in one hand.

  They put their clothing back on and went to the castle gate. It was a portcullis whose iron bars were set too closely together for the flions to pass, but not too tight for the two of them. They wedged through, walked to the wooden door, opened it, and entered the castle proper. Sammy Cat went on ahead.

  But something was bothering Jumper, and in no more than three-quarters of a moment he got it. "The flions are shape changers. Why didn't they change to humans or snakes to get between the bars and inside?"

  That perplexed Maeve too. "Maybe they didn't think of it. Or maybe there are traps, so they need to fight Warren outside."

  That made some sense. "We had better be alert for those traps."

  She nodded. "I'm a maenad; I can smell trouble. You're a spider; you should be able to smell it too."

  They sniffed together. There were some crude traps, which they had no trouble avoiding. They made their way through the castle, which seemed to be empty.

  "So where is Warren?" Jumper asked, frustrated.

  Then they spied Sammy, who was snoozing before a bedroom closet door. He had led them to Warren; they simply hadn't been paying attention.

  Maeve went up to the door and tried the knob. It did not turn; the door was locked. "Warren, come out!" she called. When there was no answer, she struck at the door with the sword. It clove asunder and the two halves fell away on either side.

  There, huddled in a dark corner behind hanging clothing, was the figure of a man. That had to be Warren.

  "We have a delivery for you," Maeve said.

  "Don't hurt me!" the man moaned, huddling lower.

  "You sniveling freak!" Maeve cried, outraged. She smote him on the top of the head with the flat of the sword. And stood amazed.

  The sword did not strike with a satisfying clonk. Instead it sank right through his head and into his body, disappearing. The hilt dissolved, so that Maeve was left holding nothing. She stepped back, dismayed. What devious magic was this?

  The man unwound. He got to his feet in the closet, knocking aside clothing. "My courage!" he cried. "You brought back my courage!"

  "That was our delivery, yes," Maeve agreed.

  "I love you!" He leaped out of the closet and swept her into his embrace. He kissed her firmly on the mouth.

  "Mmmph! Mmmph!" she protested, trying vainly to push him away.

  Finally she took two handfuls of his hair and wrenched his face away from hers. "Get away from me, you miserable coward!"

  "Coward no more, thanks to you," he said. "You beautiful creature. I'm going to marry you."

  "I'm a maenad!" she shouted.

  He took a better look at her. "Why, so you are, you luscious thing."

  He drew her in close again, one hand on her pert bottom. "My ideal soul mate."

  "If you don't unhand me instantly, I'll chomp your face off!" she threatened.

  Warren smiled. "And you've got the lovely sharp teeth to do it, don't you, my love. But you know you can't scare me; I've got my courage back. So bite me; I dare you." And he drew her in for another kiss.

  Jumper, expecting mayhem, was about to step in to separate them.

  But Maeve, to his surprise, submitted to the kiss, and did not chomp his face off. It seemed he had called her bluff. Except that Jumper doubted it had been a bluff. Why had she changed her mind?

  After a good two and a half moments they came up for air. Maeve looked flushed. Had she been overtaken by a sudden illness?

  Then she spoke, carefully. "If you really have your courage back, Warren, why don't you go out and fight that flion?"

  "Then will you marry me, you captivating damsel?"

  "Maybe. If you live."

  So that was it: she was getting rid of Warren without getting his blood on her own hands. She was really angry.

  "Immediately." Warren's sword appeared in his hand. He strode out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the castle. They followed, bemused.

  "Fletcher!" Warren bawled. "You sniveling cur! Get your mangy tail over here so I can cut it off!"

  The flion appeared, circling around the castle. He came to land before them. "So you have come to face the inevitable at last, you miserable man-thing."

  "I have my courage back, you winged kitten. You stole it and lost it, but this marvelous creature found it and returned it to me." He sent a loving glance at Maeve.

  "She's a maenad! A wild woman!"

  Warren stared down his aristocratic nose. "And what is your point, hairball? Was there ever a more fitting match for a warrior?"

  "Well, you won't live long enough to enjoy the moment. En garde!"

  Fletcher leaped.

  Warren swung his sword in a short arc as he stepped to one side.

  The flion's head went sailing from his body. "Oh, you got me!" he said as it landed and bounced. "Lucky blow." It rolled into the moat with a splash.

  "You should have known better than to challenge a warrior," Warren said, pushing the rest of the body into the moat.

  That seemed to be the case. Jumper was impressed with the change in the man. Courage made all the difference.

  "What now?" Maeve asked, taking stock.

  "Now we can marry," Warren said, turning to her. "First we have a glorious session on the bed. Then we'll set off for adventures galore, wreaking havoc wherever we go."

  But Maeve hesitated, evidently remembering her situation with the stork. "I have a mission to accomplish first."

  That certainly did not sound like a no. It seemed the warrior had impressed the bloodthirsty maiden.

  Warren sighed. "Then accept this token of my desire," he said, producing a miniature sword hung on a string. He put the string over Maeve's head so that it circled her neck, with the sword resting against her chest. "Merely invoke it at any time, and it will bring you to me for an hour. What joy we might accomplish in that hour!"

  "I'll think about it," Maeve agreed. "Now we have to go."

  "Sammy," Jumper called. "We need to find the Found Cabin."

  The cat took off, and they followed, barely keeping up. In due course they reached the Found Cabin. Sammy went to snooze by Jenny's feet.

  He couldn't find home, but fortunately this wasn't home.

  The others were eating bread with conjured grape jam, while playing two rounds of drawbridge. It seemed they had found a card game by that name, that consisted of a pack of fifty-two thin bridges with assorted numberings, which consisted of bidding for particular ones. It seemed complicated, but of course he was only a spider. Still, the cat Claire Voyant was their eighth player, and she seemed to be at no disadvantage.

  "So what happened?" Olive asked. It seemed she was the "dummy," which did not appear to relate to intelligence, so wasn't focusing on the game at the moment.

  "I . . ." Maeve stalled out. "You tell them, Jumper."

  He told them. In half a moment the two card games dissolved and all of them were paying close attention. "So Maeve returned the Sword of Courage," he concluded, "and Warren Warrior kissed her and—"

  "He what?" Olive and Phanta asked together.

  "And she did knot chomp off his face?" Wenda asked.

  "She must be in love," Haughty said smugly.

  Maeve merely stood there, blushing. That was impossibly unusual for a maenad.

  "He wanted to marry her, but she said she has to complete the mission first," Jumper said.