“True.”

  “And Hula’s problem is that no one man is enough for her. She’s a lot more woman than a fee or an elf.”

  “True,” he said, eyeing Hula. She eyed him back.

  “You can assume human size when you choose, for an hour or so. How much can you do in an hour?”

  “Plenty,” he said, licking his lips.

  “A half share of her for an hour …” She let it trail off, because she didn’t know what was supposed to fill that ellipsis but was sure he knew.

  “Well, now,” he said, looking again at Hula. She waggled a hip at him. She knew the ellipsis content, too. “My initial interest is mostly physical rather than mental.”

  “As it happens, I have the mental aspect covered.” She glanced sidelong at Sherlock, who smiled. It was acceptance he wanted as much as romance. He could have both, with even half of her.

  Furioso joined her, assuming human size. “Then let’s put it to the test.”

  “I will certainly test you,” Hula agreed.

  The three of them exited the chamber together. One more match had been accomplished.

  “Which leaves one winged monster,” Chloe said.

  Vinia delved into the second idea the cap had given her. “There is another winged monster who knows you and respects you and I think would really like to be with you, but who suppressed the desire in that manner Demon Grossclout did when he taught at the University of Magic, because it did not seem appropriate. Your telepathy is no deterrent: he has his own more limited version. You can verify that now.” Vinia looked at Dragoman.

  Chloe looked at the dragon, reading his mind. “It’s true,” she said, surprised. “He wants more than just the appreciation and friendship of princesses. We have been mentally compatible all along. In fact, we have known each other mentally for years and are friends. As for the physical, an accommodation spell will more than suffice. And of course, now we can fly together.” She did not even need to ask the dragon whether he agreed: she knew his mind. Vinia wondered whether winged monsters, a category that included even the most petite flying elves, did anything in the air similar to what the princess and drone bees did, whatever it was. Oh, the Conspiracy peeved her!

  “Of course, we do,” Chloe said in her mind. “Except for those with a fear of flying.” She laughed mentally.

  Vinia was yet again desperate to grow up and find out what it was all about.

  An hour passed, while those remaining in the cave snacked on people crackers and extra dull charcoal cheese. Vinia wanted to go out to search for the ring, but first she needed to unwind after the effort to match the mismatched princesses. Also, Queen Demesne had something on her mind, so when the departed couples returned there was an informal strategy meeting. “I know that all of you want to get busy with your roles,” she said. “Goblette and Georgia will be establishing the schedule for the several daily meals so the rest of us don’t go hungry. Hula will be organizing the queendom entertainment so we can relax when we have time. Elga and Cedar will be setting up a pavilion we can use as a temporary official palace, so as not to intrude on Dragoman’s lair anymore, and putting the grounds in order. Chloe will be establishing formal relations with established kingdoms and monarchs, such as the human King Ivy and the Shee Queen Birdie. But I feel that we need to establish at least token diplomatic relations with the neighboring tribes as soon as possible, so they don’t mistake our new activity as hostile. There is no call to distract Chloe from her business; I can handle the purely local details myself.”

  “A sensible suggestion,” Grossclout agreed. “Folk are ever prone to misunderstand what they don’t understand.”

  “Thank you,” Demesne said, flattered by his approval, her dress momentarily thinning in a manner Vinia was sure wasn’t meant to be teasing, but of course was. It would take Demesne time to get past her old awe of him as the professor. It would also take him time to get used to admiring her openly, instead of trying to mask the way his eyeballs expanded when her blouse accidentally fogged or she crossed her bare legs.

  “Who are the neighbors?” Cedar asked.

  “There are six kingdoms or the equivalent,” Dragoman said. He, like the others, seemed singularly relaxed, after his first flight with Chloe; obviously there was no fear of flying there. “Human, goblin, ogre, troll, gnome, and dragon. They quarrel sporadically with one another, but I have gotten along because my crystals were never any threat to them.”

  “May that continue,” Demesne said.

  “Any of those species can be ugly when the fickle finger of fate gooses them the wrong way,” Cedar said. “But perhaps if we make formal peace with one of them, the others will follow that lead.”

  “But which one?” Elga asked. She was now perched possessively on his broad back. Vinia wondered yet again what the accommodation spell had enabled them to do, as it had certainly mellowed them.

  “May I suggest human?” Sherlock asked. “Most of us have some human component, which may aid understanding.”

  Demesne looked around, seeing agreement. “Human it is.”

  “They are the Hoo-Hah Humans,” Dragoman said. “Given mostly to wine, women, and song. Whoever approaches them should be fair of feature, so as not to arouse their foolish rivalry, but ready to defend herself from grabby hands.”

  “That would be me,” Demesne said.

  “Then I will join you,” Grossclout said. “Invisible, if you prefer.”

  “Perhaps that would be best. It is not that I object at all to your presence, dear. It is that your inherent glower might give them the wrong impression.”

  “Point taken,” he agreed, and he faded out.

  She had called him dear, and he hadn’t glared. She was well on the way to taming him.

  “Next item,” the Demoness said. “I will need a retinue, to appear properly queenly. Any volunteers?”

  “Us,” Goblette said, holding Georgia’s hand. “We can be fair featured, when we try.” There was general laughter; they were both quite pretty girls.

  “You should come bearing a gift,” Sherlock said. “A token will do. It’s the gesture that counts.”

  Vinia remembered the goblin king running afoul of the gift. She suppressed a naughty smile. Was he still up in the air?

  “What would a wining, womanizing, singing king like?” Demesne asked. Vinia had to smile at how close one word came to “whining.”

  “Perfume for his queen. The kind that generates powerful potency when he sniffs it.”

  So there was a selfish motive when a king gave a queen something, Vinia thought. But Sherlock was probably correct.

  “I have an elixir,” Ion said.

  “So you can join the party,” Demesne said.

  That meant Vinia would also be along. Somehow, she had known she would. It came with being the protagonist.

  “Do we need to make an appointment?” Goblette asked.

  “They are so informal they don’t make appointments,” Dragoman said. “Just go and ask to see the king and hope for the best. He’s probably partying.”

  So they went, walking: the six of them, Demons, goblins, and humans, ready to depart quickly if there should be danger. There was unlikely to be any threat to the Demons, but they would not vacate while their friends were in trouble.

  They passed the flower fields, where the visiting bees were busily harvesting Heaven-Can-Wait pollen, and came to a barren, rocky field beyond, strewn with litter. Obviously, the Hoo-Hah had no special pride of property. They heard the faint sound of music and followed it to a hill overgrown with grapevines, where workers were harvesting the grapes. None paid them any attention.

  There was a desultory path winding up the hill, lined with kitchen trash. They followed it up to a castle, which had an outer and inner wall, in lieu of a moat. It was not impressive: the walls were in ill repair. Vinia realized that the well-kept buildings of the Kingdoms of Adamant, Xanth, and Shee were not necessarily typical of the hinterlands.

  They came to the front gate. It wasn’t even guarded. They walked on in, collared the first person they saw inside, and asked to see the king. “That way,” the person said, pointing.

  They went that way and came to a hall where music was playing and scantily clad girls were dancing. Vinia had never understood why men liked women who were not completely dressed, but obviously they did. Servants were carrying jugs of wine in and out. No one paid any attention to the intruders.

  “Are we sure this is worthwhile?” Vinia asked.

  “All we can do is make the effort,” Demesne said, frowning. As neighbors went, this was not promising.

  They spotted the king, because he was the one with a crown and royal robe. He was trying to dance with a pretty girl but was too drunk to do more than stagger and clumsily paw her torso. The girl’s face was set in a fixed smile. She was evidently used to this.

  “Idea,” Grossclout said. He remained invisible. “Do you have a sobriety elixir, Ion?”

  Ion brought out a vial. He took it to the dancing couple and opened it. Vapor emerged and wafted to the king, who suddenly stood up straight, spying them. “What the bleep is this?” he demanded.

  “I am Queen Demesne of the Queendom of Thanx, next door to Hoo-Hah.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “We formed it this morning. It is feminist, governed by women of several different persuasions.”

  He peered at her as if trying to see through her clothing. “You’re a Demoness!”

  “I am. But Thanx is not a Demon domain. I merely happen to be the present queen. It is open to all who wish to become citizens, whatever their nature.”

  Vinia saw that the servants and dancing girls were paying attention. This interested them. Especially the girl the king had been trying to dance with, who now stood sedately behind him as she adjusted her mussed halter and skirt.

  “Governed by women?”

  Demesne nodded. “Yes. But we plan to be fair to all citizens, male and female. In fact, we hope to become a model state, a pleasant residence for everyone. We hope to have amicable relations with our neighbor states, yours included.”

  The king seemed to be having difficulty assimilating this despite his sobriety. “Women rule it?”

  Demesne smiled tolerantly. She had a very nice smile. “Indeed.”

  He scowled. “Feminist.”

  “Yes. We feel it is time for women to have a say in things.”

  Vinia saw the girl nod. She liked what she was hearing.

  The king exploded. “Apostasy! It must be extirpated immediately!”

  This was not a positive direction. Demesne’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then she carried on. “And to initiate good relations we have brought a small gift for you.” She glanced at Ion, so Ion and Vinia stepped up to join them. “A seductive perfume for your wife.”

  The girl winced. Vinia could guess why: she wished the king would pay more attention to his wife and leave the dancing girls alone. Such a potion would not necessarily accomplish that.

  “Seductive?” At least the distraction was working.

  Ion held forth a vial. “One whiff and she’s yours.” Ion, of course, could not define it further, because of the Conspiracy, but the veiled reference more than sufficed for the king. “Dulcie,” he said, looking at the girl. He was no longer drunk, but that did not alter his underlying nature.

  “I’ll fetch your wife immediately,” the girl said and hastily departed.

  “Hey, that’s not what I—” But she was already gone. Vinia suspected that Dulcie had deliberately misunderstood, so as not to get doused with the elixir herself, even on a test basis. The king could hardly object publicly to his wife being summoned for a gift for her, however much it might annoy him.

  “I’m sure your wife will love it,” Demesne said.

  The king’s frustrated eye fell on her. An idea occurred to him. There was of course no question of its nature. “How about—”

  “My consort might object,” Demesne said.

  Grossclout faded into view beside her. He let out a token glower.

  The king stepped back as if burned. There was no mistaking the intimidation of that glower. Grossclout was the Magician of Intimidation. Then the king’s roving eye fell on the two pretty goblin princesses. They were not human, but human men appreciated goblin girls almost as much as they did human ones. A goblin girl could freak out a human man by flashing her panties with no effort at all. “Maybe two small ones would be better than one full-sized one.”

  “We’re lesbians,” Georgia said as Goblette nodded agreement.

  The king was undeterred. “That simply means you’re passing the time until you can find a real man. Let’s douse you with the potion and see what happens.”

  This was mischief. The girls did not want to make an ugly scene that could mess up the diplomatic mission, such as it was, but neither did they want to get into it with this crude king. Flashing their panties would be an act of war in this situation. His version of lesbianism was the standard male one, Vinia knew, because the average man simply could not conceive of any woman not wanting any man. And she realized that this was more bad luck striking, in the absence of the ring. So it was her fault, again. She had to do something to stave it off until the wife arrived.

  But what? She saw that this had attracted the attention of the rest of the room. The music had even faded out, and the dancing girls had paused in place, listening.

  Then she thought of Benny’s thinking cap. If only she had it now! But maybe there was a way. She imagined it landing on her head.

  And she got an idea. It was a naughty one, but what choice did she have?

  She used her telekinesis to make the royal robe goose the king. He was within her range and facing away from her as he leered at the goblins. His fat behind was a perfect target. The robe convoluted as if a giant hand were grabbing it. It flexed powerfully inward.

  “OoOoo!” the king howled, leaping into the air with surprising agility.

  “Oh, dear!” Vinia exclaimed innocently. “I fear that invisible wild goose must have followed us inside.” Wild geese were notorious for just such rascality, and remarkably common when parties got chaotic. Normally their taste was just for the ladies, however.

  Demesne was quick on the uptake. “It must have,” she agreed, stifling a laugh. “We must shoo it out before it scores on anyone else.” She made shooing motions. The other members of their party quickly joined in. Then so did the dancing girls, though some of them seemed to be in a remarkably good humor about the intrusion.

  At this point Dulcie and the wife arrived. “What is going on?” the lady demanded. She was a forbidding woman, but shapely, in the manner of a trophy wife, surely by no coincidence.

  The king seemed suspicious. Vinia knew that his courtesans would soon learn about the nature of Vinia’s talent. They had to get out of here before the girls told the king.

  “We have a gift for you,” Vinia said to the wife. “Perfume.”

  Wife’s interest was immediate. Acquisition was in her nature. “Oh? Let’s have it.”

  “Here,” Ion said. He opened the vial and the vapor wafted out and clouded around both the wife and Dulcie.

  The king’s wife sniffed. “Delicious.” It did not affect women the same way as the men.

  “Well now!” the king said as a waft drifted across to tickle his nose.

  “Uh-oh,” Dulcie said, evidently recognizing the odor. She tried to back away, but the wife grabbed her arm.

  “What is it?” the wife demanded distrustfully.

  “Potency elixir!”

  “Oh, bleep! We don’t need that around here. We’ve got more than enough.”

  Dulcie nodded. So did several of the dancing girls.

  Then the king charged them. They fled together, but he pursued, his hands reaching eagerly forward for any flesh they could capture. In three scrambled moments all three were out of the hall. Vinia suspected that there would be quite a scene, once the king caught up to them.

  “Let us depart,” Demesne said with as straight a face as she could manage. “I believe we are done here.” She glanced around at the audience that had formed. “We bid you farewell, kind folk, and thank you for your courtesy. Visit Thanx anytime.”

  They walked sedately out of the hall. No one tried to stop them. Something was brewing among the servants and dancing girls, and finally it burst out uncontrollably: laughter.

  “I am not certain exactly how well that went,” Grossclout remarked. He was trying to maintain his glower, but it was eroding.

  “You naughty girl,” Demesne said fondly to Vinia. Then the laughter caught up and overwhelmed them, too.

  “I fear I caught a whiff of that elixir,” Grossclout said to Demesne as they subsided.

  “A likely story,” she retorted, not at all annoyed. Then the two of them vanished in a heart-shaped cloud of smoke. It was apparent that their relationship was working out well.

  The other four of them returned to the lair. “There was a problem,” Ion said.

  “We gathered that,” Chloe Centaur said severely. She was now the Minister of Communications. “Hoo-Hah just declared war on Thanx, and it seems the other surrounding kingdoms are following suit. They plan to invade and destroy us tomorrow.”

  That made them pause. This was an extremely serious complication. Then the four of them burst out laughing again.

  “Oh, I see,” Chloe said, reading their minds. She tried to hold it in, but the laugh tore out her too.

  “What the bleep happened?” Dragoman demanded. “War is a most serious business, especially when it threatens one’s home turf.”

  “The king of Hoo-Hah was about to go after Goblette and Georgia, and Vinia goosed him telekinetically so they could get away. Then Ion’s potency elixir doused both the king’s wife and his girlfriend, together.”