“I told you she’s a Sorceress,” Furioso said. “And Ion is a Magician. They can do magic we can hardly imagine.”

  “True,” Georgia breathed. “I see there’s one called Thera.”

  “I have heard of that,” Sherlock said. “It was a nasty one, some time back. Worse than Pinotuba.”

  “Pinotuba?”

  “It went ooom-paa! and blew out so much smoke and ash it cooled all Xanth by one degree.”

  “Oh, that one. But it’s still alive, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, still active. So they won’t be hiding in that cone. At least Thera is now inactive.”

  “We can check those,” Ion said, studying the map. “But it will take several days, because of the travel time between them.”

  “We can take the time we need,” Sherlock said. “There’s no deadline, is there?”

  “We’ll spend hours between each, getting on each other’s nerves. We’ve got to find the right access!”

  That started a foolish chain of thought for Vinia. Right access. Thera. The ra could be an abbreviation for right access. The RA. Thera. “We should try Thera first.”

  Ion glanced at her. “You have a reason?”

  “Yes, but it’s too foolish to mention.”

  “We have seen her foolishness before,” Hilda said.

  Ion nodded. “Right. Thera it is.”

  “Thera,” Vinia said to the ring. They had the map, so could find it regardless, but she wanted to verify that it could orient on a place name as well as a person name. It flashed a direction, matching the map direction.

  They flew across the sea, which was dull compared to the land because it was all the same, just level water.

  “Uh-oh,” Benny said, gazing ahead as he steered the carpet.

  Vinia looked. Clouds were swirling villainously. A storm was brewing.

  “How well can this craft handle inclement weather?” Sherlock asked Ion.

  “Well enough. Neither rain nor hail can penetrate the shield, and it will deflect lightning, but the winds can buffet it. We can ride it out.”

  “I get seasick,” Georgia said. “I was on a boat once, and when the waves got rocky, I vomited.”

  “Me too,” Furioso said. “I am a land creature, when it comes to a storm.”

  “Can we go around or over it?” Hilda asked Benny.

  “I don’t think so. It is spreading out pretty wide, and reaching high. There can be turbulence above a storm too. It may be better to wait it out.”

  “Right when we are on the verge of recruiting a winged centaur stallion,” Ion said, annoyed.

  Outlying winds pushed against the shield, sending the carpet rocking. Both the goblin and the elf looked uncomfortable.

  Vinia got an idea. “Could we go under it?”

  “Like a boat on the water?” Benny asked. “That would really be rocky.”

  “No, I mean under it. Under the water.”

  The others looked at her. “She’s doing it again,” Hilda said. “Coming up with a weird idea that maybe makes sense. Can the shield handle the pressure of surrounding seawater?”

  “Yes,” Ion said. “But if we stayed under too long, I would need to vent a vial of oxygen.”

  The others did not understand his concern, so ignored it.

  Hilda peered at the storm ahead. It looked increasingly formidable and seemed to be developing a circular pattern.

  “This is what the Mundanes refer to as a hurricane,” Sherlock said. “They do frequent this region in summer.”

  “A hurry cane?” Furioso asked

  “Not exactly. A hurricane is a huge storm in the shape of a giant circle, which can last for a week or more. Not something we want to be in.”

  “Thank Q for that clarification.”

  “Then down under it is,” Benny said, and he put the carpet into a dive. It plunged toward the surface of the sea and did not level off: instead it splashed out a great sheet of water to either side.

  Vinia was not the only one who flinched, though she knew they were safe.

  The carpet sank under the sea. They saw the water rising around the shield, higher and higher, as if they were in a giant bowl. Then it closed over the top, and it was more like a giant bubble.

  And the rocking they had been increasingly experiencing stopped. The ocean down under was calm. Vinia looked up through the top and saw the surface of the sea being lashed by the storm, but there was no echo of it here below.

  “Well, now,” Furioso said. “I like this calmness.”

  “Me too,” Georgia agreed.

  “And there are fish,” Sherlock said.

  They looked. Fish of assorted sizes were peering through the shield, as though the carpet with its riders were oddities in a tank. Then a giant turtle swam up.

  And a water dragon. It looked hungrily at the people and licked its formidable chops. But when it tried to take a bite of the shield, miniature lightning jags radiated, shocking it in the teeth. The dragon hastily retreated.

  The carpet accelerated, forging through the water. At first the fish tried to keep up with it, as if it were a racing game, but they soon fell behind. They were making good progress. Vinia was impressed yet again with the magic of Ion and Hilda, who had worked together to make this vehicle work.

  In due course Benny aimed the craft back upward. Either they had passed the storm, or it had blown on past them, or a combination of the two. The surface of the sea was now almost calm.

  “May I say that I am impressed by your magic, too, Magician,” Georgia said to Ion. “It is simply amazing. I never even imagined anything quite like this.”

  Ion, caught off guard by the compliment, was silent. Vinia stepped in, as she was used to doing. “He appreciates your appreciation, Georgia. But he doesn’t brag about his magic. He just does what is necessary.”

  “It is beyond bragging,” the goblin said. “I am awed.”

  Vinia knew that Ion was deeply pleased.

  They slid along the surface, as Benny looked around, then lifted into the air.

  “Land ho!” Sherlock said.

  And there it was: an islet consisting mainly of a huge volcanic cone. They had found Thera. But was it the secret home of the winged centaurs? This was after all just her guess based on a passing mental exercise. Her luck was bound to fall flat some time.

  Hilda looked at Vinia, picking up her doubt. “Unless the luck of the ring goes with you as well as the ones you name to it. You are after all closely associated with it.”

  “I never thought of that,” Vinia said. “I suppose it could have an ambiance, just as Ion does.”

  “Make sure not to lose it.”

  Oh yes! She really needed the ring.

  “Uh-oh,” Benny repeated.

  They looked. “That volcano’s alive,” Hilda said, surprised. “Yet it can’t be; my map now shows only the quiescent ones.”

  Still, there was a bright rim of lava at the top of the cone, just about to overflow, and fiery smoke was roiling into the sky above it. The volcano certainly looked active.

  “Illusion!” Sherlock said. “Oldest trick in the book. Which means that this must be the place. Why clothe a deserted islet with illusion unless it has something to hide? That’s a giveaway.”

  Vinia hoped so. She still didn’t trust her guess, and wasn’t sure about the luck, but they did need to find the winged centaurs.

  “But centaurs don’t like to use magic,” Hilda said.

  Sherlock laughed. “That’s a popular confusion. They don’t like to be magic, except to the extent it facilitates their flying, but they will use it as convenient. So the telepathic princess you mentioned must have been an outcast. That would explain her separation from her kind. The winged ones are, however, more liberal in this respect than the land-bound ones.”

  “She never said, in her holo. I mean, she says she’s telepathic, but not a word about how other centaurs might have reacted to it.”

  “It could be a sensitive issue.” Sherlock eyed the fiery top of the mountain. “Meanwhile we have to decide whether we are certain enough that it is illusion to fly through it. Is the shield strong enough to resist real volcano heat?”

  “Yes, for a few minutes at least,” Ion said. “It is designed to withstand dragon fire, which usually comes in brief bursts. We can fly quickly through it.” He looked around. “Are we game to try?”

  “If you say your magic can handle real heat, then I’m game,” Georgia said.

  “Ditto,” Furioso agreed.

  “One other thing,” Sherlock said. “Assuming it is illusion, and that beyond it, inside the cone, there is a winged centaur community, they may not welcome our invasion. Do we have a protocol to establish a dialogue?”

  “Maybe say ‘Please, we need your help’?” Vinia suggested. “Or is that too stupid?”

  A glance went around, turning positive. The others were catching on to her supposed stupidity. “That seems apt,” Sherlock said.

  “Now we brave the fiery illusion,” Benny said.

  The carpet zoomed toward the fearsome summit. Vinia couldn’t help herself; she closed her eyes as they plunged into the smoke.

  “I’m nervous too,” Georgia said beside her.

  That helped.

  “We’re through!” Benny announced. Obviously he hadn’t shut his eyes.

  Vinia looked. There was no incipient eruption. They were now flying across the giant empty caldera, the basin of the center of the extinct volcano. Tucked into one wall of it was a big building like a stall. That had to be the home of the centaurs. Vinia noticed that a wisp of steam was curling up from the other side, which suggested that even after centuries there remained some heat.

  Ion took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m the Magician, but sometimes I suspect you have equivalent magic.”

  “Oh, no, not me!” she said, embarrassed. “It’s just the ring.”

  “And who was lucky enough to get the ring?”

  A winged centaur flew up from the stall to intercept them, the final confirmation of their success. He was a handsome stallion with blue-brown fur on his flank and head, and muscular arms. He was naked except for a sheaf of arrows on his back, and a long bow in his left hand. He would of course be a dead shot with that bow; all centaurs were. He pointed to a corner of the stall roof where they should land.

  Benny nodded and guided the carpet there. They made a soft landing. “Go talk to him,” Ion told Vinia.

  “Me? But I’m not the leader!”

  He merely looked at her. Oh, yes; she was the protagonist. She turned around and went.

  Vinia stepped off the carpet and approached the stallion, who had landed the same time they did. He had hung his bow across the sheath on his back, evidently not considering her to be a threat. He was even more imposing up close, his human portion standing considerably taller than she did. She saw that his eyes matched his hair. “Please, we need your help,” she said.

  “Obviously, or you would not have come to Grand Centaur Station,” he replied. His voice was vibrant. “You have considerable magic, to locate us and penetrate our defensive illusion. That suggests your concern is important. Now let’s introduce ourselves. I am Cedar Centaur, Officer of the Day. It is my job to handle whatever occurs at this time.”

  “I am Vinia, a human child.” When he did not respond, she lurched on. “Prince Magician Ion and Princess Sorceress Hilda are on a Quest to free six crystallized princesses. One of them is a winged centaur filly.”

  Now he spoke. “Queen Ida’s children. You would be the one who assists Ion in walking, with your telekinesis. Hilda would have sewn the carpet.”

  “You know!” Vinia said, surprised.

  Cedar smiled. “We centaurs have encyclopedic information, and the descendants of Bink Human are known, as are all those with Magician-caliber magic. When you named them I was able to orient. You mentioned a filly. What is her name?”

  “Chloe.” This was easier than she had feared. So far.

  “Chloe,” he repeated, orienting. “She disappeared a century ago. She was telepathic.”

  “Yes. She got crystallized by Dragoman Dragon. Now he will release her if we can find a suitable stallion for her.”

  Cedar frowned handsomely. “That may be a problem. We centaurs are not partial to personal magic in our species. It does happen on rare occasion, but we do not consider it an asset.”

  “Yes. We hoped you would know of someone suitable. Someone who doesn’t mind her telepathy. We have reached four princes, or the equivalents, so far, and have only this one princess and one other to go.”

  “What is the one other?”

  “Demesne Demoness.”

  He oriented again. “Our records indicate that she is a lovely, talented, personable person, the friend of the Good Magician’s wife Dara Demoness, who disappeared some time ago.” He glanced at Vinia’s hand. “Dara—whose signet ring you wear.”

  Oh, he was fearsomely smart! And observant, considering that the ring was invisible. “She lent it to me, to help with the Quest.”

  “Which implies the support of the Good Magician. This is not something we can afford to ignore.”

  “You will help us?” Vinia asked, too eagerly.

  “Perhaps. I will convene an assembly of celibate centaurs. You can provide more specific information on her?”

  “She made a holo recording to present her case. We can play it for you.”

  “That will do.” He glanced at the carpet. “Inform your party that they may emerge to witness our consideration. I will summon the bachelors now, and they will decide which, if any, will do.” He put his hands together, forming a cup, and blew a flutelike note.

  Vinia returned to the carpet. “He is Cedar. He knows who we are. He is calling the single centaurs. They will decide. We can come out to watch.”

  “Good work,” Hilda said.

  They trekked out, leaving only Benny to mind the carpet.

  The bachelors were already arriving. All of them were handsome. So why didn’t they have fillies? Was there something about them?

  “We centaurs take time to decide on mates,” Cedar said, answering Vinia’s mental question, which was surely a common one. “As do the fillies. Love at first site is rare.”

  “Site?”

  He smiled. “So you are paying attention. Sight, of course.”

  Six stallions lined up before Cedar. “Before us are human Prince Magician Ion and Princess Sorceress Hilda, together with their retinue,” he told the centaurs. Vinia saw them doing the orientation. “They wish to locate a stallion for the filly Chloe, who was crystallized by Dragoman but now will be freed if an amenable stallion becomes amenable.” He glanced at Hilda. “You may play the holo, Sorceress.”

  Hilda played it. They all watched Chloe make her case. But Vinia could see that her telepathy was not playing well for this audience.

  “Volunteers?” Cedar asked.

  The six centaurs were silent.

  Vinia opened her mouth to protest. But Hilda’s glance shut her up.

  “Since none of you care to join the telepathic filly in their new Queendom of Thanx,” Cedar said, “as Officer of the Day I am required to handle this matter myself. We cannot afford to balk a project of this progressive nature, tacitly supported by the Good Magician. Nor can we ignore our own crisis. The two may converge. Therefore I will undertake the chore.” He glanced at one of the stallions. “Cedric, you are now OD.”

  That would be the abbreviation of Officer of the Day.

  The designated stallion stepped forward and turned to face the others. “Return to your stalls,” he directed. The others took off and departed. Then, to Cedar: “I will register your departure.”

  “Appreciation,” Cedar said. “Perhaps in due course I will contact GCS as a representative of Thanx.”

  That would be the abbreviation of Grand Centaur Station. The centaurs were certainly efficient. But Vinia wondered whether there was any love or romance in their culture. How could Cedar summarily undertake to join Chloe when he didn’t even like the idea of her telepathy? Was duty that important to him? What would Chloe think of that attitude?

  Cedric spread his wings and ascended into the sky, doing a spot survey in case there were any other intrusions. Vinia doubted that there would be any others. Their own intrusion had been chancy enough.

  Meanwhile, Cedar approached the carpet. “You will need to sew another amendment, Princess,” he said. He clearly understood the nature of her magic.

  Hilda was already busy sewing a patch.

  Soon they took off again, with Cedar aboard. “You mentioned a crisis,” Ion said alertly to the stallion. “Is this something we should know about?”

  “Yes, Prince. It is that Thera has been dormant for the past several centuries, but is now about to come alive again. We have investigated the signs, such as new steam vents and rising of the caldera floor. Magma is accumulating. Pressure is building. The process is slow but sure. We shall have to establish a new base within the decade.”

  “And Thanx might do!” Hilda said.

  “This is my thought,” the centaur agreed. “While the notion of a telepathic mate does not appeal to me, it may be a necessary sacrifice for my species.”

  So it was not lack of romance so much as an overwhelming need. Cedar had to do what was required for the sake of the welfare of the winged centaurs. Vinia could respect that.

  They talked as Benny guided the carpet up out of the cone and through the illusion and out to sea. Cedar relaxed, now that the decision had been made, and turned out to be a fairly affable guy, with an extraordinary amount of background knowledge. He should be okay in Thanx, assuming that side of it worked out.

  Vinia hoped that was not too big an assumption. Their Quest was by no means certain of success.

  “Next prince,” Hilda said. “The Demon.”

  “Do you have a particular one in mind?” Cedar asked.