“You’re welcome,” Ion said. A bit of a hidden smile was hovering in the vicinity.

  They flew on without further event, the Xanth horizon unaffected. Soon they came to the famed Gap Chasm.

  Benny and Vinia plunged into renewed awe, while the twins watched tolerantly. The Chasm was a phenomenal cleft in the ground, descending a mundane mile or so to a floor overgrown with trees and lesser vegetation. It was obviously a whole separate ecosystem, only tenuously connected to the terrain on either side.

  “Let’s see the Gap Dragon,” Hilda said. “But make us invisible so it’s private. We don’t want others to know we’re on a quest.”

  “Right,” Ion agreed.

  “But do let us see out, this time.”

  “Got it. I have a one-way shield.” He fished in his bag and brought out a miniature shield. He set this on the carpet. “Invoke.”

  The shield expanded, surrounding them. But they could see through it, as they coasted down almost to the ground. Was it really working?

  “Let me verify,” Benny said. He changed to Caprine form, a handsome buck goat with white patches on his brown fur, then lowered his horny head and leaped off the carpet to the ground. Vinia was a quarter way startled: she knew he could change, and had seen it before, but he had remained in human form while staying at the palace and she had gotten used to his human aspect. All crossbreeds could switch between their ancestral forms; it was their magic.

  The buck turned about and gazed back at the carpet for two-thirds of a moment. Then he shook his head. Then he reverted to human form. “I can’t see or hear you,” he called. “You’ll have to throw me a line.”

  Hilda unwound some thread on a spool, then threw the spool toward Benny while holding on to the end. It landed on the ground before him.

  “Thanks,” he called as he picked up the spool. Then he followed it as Hilda reeled him in. He passed through the shield. “Ah, there you are,” he said, now seeing them. “You are completely invisible from outside. There was just brush.”

  “No brush-off,” Hilda said, the semblance of a smile hovering nearby.

  They resumed motion, elevating above tree level. Ion brought out another artifact, this one a little disk with a needle pointing in no special direction. “General purpose compass,” he explained. “Gap Dragon.” This was evidently another item he had traded for. Potent elixirs could fetch in just about anything.

  The needle immediately oriented, pointing a specific direction. They went that way and soon heard a kind of whomping, as if something heavy was being thrown repeatedly on the ground. Then they saw it: a long snakelike dragon with three pairs of legs, at front, middle, and rear. It was a steamer, with wisps of steam rising from its mouth as it breathed. This was the dread Gap Dragon, the scourge of the separate realm of the Gap. It moved by lifting its front end, then its middle, and finally its rear, in the manner of an inchworm but on a larger scale, each section whomping as it landed. It looked inefficient, but the creature was moving right along and could surely catch any prey it went after. Vinia was impressed.

  The dragon whomped to a stop. The ferocious head looked their way. How could it see them?

  Then it lifted a sign board from somewhere. Words appeared printed on it. HELLO IDA’S OFFSPRING.

  Vinia and Benny froze in shock. The dragon knew they were there!

  Hilda brought out a section of cloth from her purse. “Hello, Gap Dragon,” she said, and the words appeared on the cloth: HELLO, GAP DRAGON. “How did you know we were here?” She dangled the cloth outside the shield.

  I SMELLED YOU, HILDA. YOU FORGOT TO MASK YOUR ODORS. WHO ARE YOUR FRIENDS?

  Odors! Vinia knew they would be sure to include that next time.

  Hilda turned to Ion. “This is cumbersome. We’d better turn visible for the nonce. We can trust him.”

  “Unvoke,” Ion said. There was a faint shimmer as the shield dissipated.

  AH, THERE YOU ARE!

  They talked. Hilda introduced Benny and Vinia. They learned that Ida’s twin sister, Queen Ivy, had given her friend the Gap Dragon the magic talking board so it could communicate with humans when it needed to, and that board had been passed down to its descendants. They also learned that the Gap Dragon did not eat friends. Now Vinia and Benny would be considered friends.

  Overall, it was a nice enough visit.

  They bid parting to the dragon and floated back into the sky. It was time to brace the Good Magician, who was likely to be more formidable.

  Chapter 2

  Challenges

  They came to the Good Magician’s Castle. There was no mistaking it. For one thing there was a plaque at the front gate saying GOOD MAGICIAN’S CASTLE.

  They paused there. “Comments?” Ion asked.

  Vinia was uneasy. “It’s too easy. That’s like a path leading to a tangle tree.” Because careless folk who followed such a tempting path would get promptly grabbed and eaten by the carnivorous tree.

  “I have heard about it,” Benny said. “It is said that there are always three Challenges, designed for the particular querents; that is, the folk who query, who come to ask the Good Magician’s advice. He doesn’t like to be bothered, so he makes is difficult to get in. He always knows who is coming and is prepared.”

  “But there are four of us,” Vinia said. “With different natures and talents. How complicated can he make it?”

  “Plenty complicated,” Hilda said.

  “It just might be that Mother knew we’d never get through the Challenges, so would have to abort our quest,” Ion said thoughtfully. “So she wouldn’t have to tell us no openly.”

  “Would she do a thing like that?” Vinia asked, dismayed.

  Both twins nodded soberly.

  Vinia realized that she still had things to learn about adults. Evidently, they thought it was all right to deceive children, at least if they didn’t do it directly. Maybe it was part of the Adult Conspiracy.

  “So we may be faced with impossible Challenges,” Ion said.

  Vinia got an idea. But she hesitated to say it because it might be too stupid.

  “I saw the dim bulb over your head,” Ion said. “Out with it.”

  Vinia shook her head. “It’s really not worth saying.”

  “Let us be the judge of that,” Hilda said.

  “Really, no,” Vinia protested, embarrassed. “I’m the stupidest one of the four of us, and the least experienced.”

  “I’m not sure of that,” Benny said. “I had a stupid idea about the walking socks.”

  “That’s because mostly I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut, so I don’t seem as stupid as I am. You would never have known, if that dim bulb hadn’t given me away.”

  “True,” Hilda said, bemused. “You are the most modest of us.”

  “Speak, or I’ll kiss you,” Ion threatened.

  Vinia knew that if he kissed her in this context, her knees would turn to wet noodles and her mouth would start dumping out the contents of her mind like the garbage it was. “Please, no.”

  “Sometimes what seems stupid is just different,” Hilda said.

  “But sometimes it’s as stupid as it seems.”

  “That does it,” Ion said. “Modesty be bleeped. You have a notion. I’m kissing you.”

  Vinia was in tears. “Please,” she repeated.

  “Here is my thought,” Hilda said. “The Good Magician has to have seen us coming. He must know what’s on our minds. He knows how to block us off. The only way we’re going to get past those Challenges is to surprise him. He knows us, but maybe he didn’t think to spot research Vinia, who comes across as inconsequential. So the Challenges are not designed for her. She may be the key to our success.”

  “I think she is,” Ion said. “Because—”

  “No!” Vinia cried despairingly.

  Now Hilda oriented on Ion. “What did you almost say?”

  It was his turn to stifle it. “I can’t say.”

  It was Benny who caught on. “Because she’s the protagonist!”

  “Oh, bleep!” Vinia wailed.

  “You’re the protagonist,” Hilda repeated. “Of course. That is the key. The viewpoint character is close to the main characters and always wins through in the end. Even the Good Magician can’t stop that.”

  It was out. “But we can’t be sure of that,” Vinia protested. “It might make no difference.”

  “And it might make all the difference,” Hilda said.

  “So Vinia should be the one to tackle those Challenges,” Hilda said. “Because they’re not designed to balk her, and as protagonist she’ll have a better chance. That was a good idea, not a stupid one.”

  “But I’m just a minor character. It’s not my place to act like a major one.”

  The others laughed. “I’m going to kiss you,” Ion said.

  “But I have nothing left to tell you.”

  “I’m going to kiss you,” Ion said more carefully, “because you’re a sweet girl and a nice person and I love you.”

  “And your innocent modesty becomes you,” Hilda said. “I’ll kiss you too.”

  “Oh.” Vinia blushed an embarrassing shade of purple.

  They kissed her, and so did Benny for good measure. The twins were amateurs, but Benny really knew how to do it; Vinia felt the difference. Then they rehearsed her on the nature of the Challenges. There were always three of them, and they were always solvable. The mechanisms were always in the vicinity; they just had to be recognized and applied. That sounded simple, but in practice it wasn’t; probably more folk failed the Challenges than solved them. Usually there was not a time limit, so she could keep struggling with a Challenge until she got it right. Persistence was the key.

  “Oh, almost forgot,” Hilda said. “Personal magic doesn’t work in the Challenges. Ion wouldn’t be immune; I couldn’t sew my way out of mischief. Benny couldn’t change form. You won’t be able to teleconnect. You will have to depend on your mind and your body to get through.”

  Her feeble mind and body. Vinia quailed inwardly.

  “Another thing I almost forgot,” Ion said. “The Good Magician requires a year’s Service, or the equivalent, for his Answer. You may be stuck with that.”

  “I’ll do it,” Vinia said bravely. “That way the rest of you can go rescue the princesses without having to wait, once I get the Answer for you, if I do.”

  This time there was a three-way glance careening between Ion, Hilda, and Benny. “She has more generosity than the rest of us combined,” Hilda said.

  “We are not worthy of her,” Benny said. “No wonder she’s the protagonist.”

  “We’re not leaving her behind,” Ion said. “We can delay the Quest if necessary.”

  “But I don’t want to hold you up,” Vinia said, “after you’ve gone to all this trouble.”

  This time Ion didn’t threaten, he did it: he kissed her so passionately that half a dozen little hearts were flung out, looking surprised by their velocity.

  “You are part of this party,” Hilda said. “We’ll figure something out. We are not leaving you behind, and that’s final.” It was clear that That was That.

  There was one more thing. “I’m allergic to just about everything,” Vinia reminded them. “I have to stay close to Ion or I became a mass of itches and hives and can’t function at all. I was a recluse until Ion rescued me.”

  Ion brought out a vial. “Essence of Ion,” he said. “A whiff will suppress your symptoms the same way my presence does.” He smiled. “I trust you won’t dump me, now that you no longer need me.”

  She opened her mouth, stricken by the awful implication, but no sound came out.

  “I’m teasing,” he said. “I know you value me for more than my ambiance.”

  “Of course she does,” Hilda said. “You provide her with a soft bed to sleep on.”

  “And tasty royal meals,” Benny said.

  They were teasing her too. “And a way to exercise my talent, so it doesn’t get stale,” Vinia said. They all laughed, though it wasn’t that funny.

  Then Vinia stepped off the landed carpet, which disappeared behind her, and walked uncertainly toward the castle. A path appeared before her—she was sure it had not been there a moment before—so she followed it. What else was there to do? It surely did not lead to a tangle tree. She felt supremely unqualified for whatever was to come. At least she wasn’t sneezing or itching: the mere presence of the vial seemed to be protecting her. Ion could have given her this all along; had he hesitated for the same reason she had hesitated to tell him about the walking socks? Surely not. Yet maybe.

  She thought of something else. She tried to move a fallen branch with only her mind. Nothing happened. So that was correct: no personal magic operated here. She really was on her own, as if she were mundane.

  Vinia came to a small cottage with a neatly thatched roof and pretty windows. The path led to the front door and expired there. This must be the place. For whatever devious purpose.

  She tried the doorknob. It turned, and the door swung inward. She stepped into the house. There was a single room inside, with a small table. There was a little girl baby on the table. Vinia could tell because there was a cute pink ribbon on her limited hair.

  Vinia had had no idea what to expect, but this wasn’t it. A baby? She knew next to nothing about babies, and less about caring for them. Why was she here?

  Then she realized that this was a Challenge, and not one intended for her. It must be for Hilda, who not so secretly wanted to grow up and have a kid with Benny. She had sewn little outfits, peeking longingly toward the future. So their plan was working; the wrong person was here for the Challenge.

  But if Hilda was not yet qualified for such a thing, Vinia was totally out of the picture. She had no idea what should come next.

  Then she smelled something. Now she remembered: babies pooped themselves. She had seen mothers handling such events. This one needed cleaning and changing. There was a fresh clean diaper at the end of the table, and a basin with warm water and a sponge.

  She had to do what had to be done. There was no one else, thanks to their cunning substitution of her for the real person. She stepped up and put her hands on the soiled diaper, to take it off.

  The baby fussed. Vinia put a hand to her head, to try to comfort her.

  The baby’s hair changed color, from brown to green.

  Vinia froze, amazed. Had she misremembered the color? She wasn’t sure, but certainly it wasn’t green.

  But she had a job to do. She took hold of the diaper, loosening its tape to get it off. She pulled it away—and froze again.

  The baby’s central anatomy wasn’t female. It was male.

  She looked again at the hair. The pink ribbon was now a blue band. Boy color.

  The Challenge was playing tricks on her. Of course. That was its nature.

  Well, she could change a boy as readily as a girl. She did know about the difference in central anatomy. She took the sponge and carefully wiped away the poop. Then she took the fresh diaper—and froze a third time.

  The baby on the table was now an ogre infant.

  Vinia paused for thought. What was really happening here? Why did the baby keep changing? Fortunately, at the moment it was sleeping, so she had time to think.

  Then she got it. This was a changing table. A magic one that changed other things than diapers. A pun. She had to prevent it from doing that. Suppose the baby’s mother returned, to discover an ogret in place of her baby?

  She looked more carefully at the table, as she had not thought to do before. There was an envelope about to fall off it. She caught it and peered closely at it. It seemed to be a discarded mundane artifact. She pressed it, and it opened out into a little screen with printing on it. She read it. MAGIC MARKER. That was all. That was the message? No wonder it had been discarded!

  Still, it was marginally better than nothing. She looked at the table again. There was the marker, just lying there as if hoping to be unobserved. Indeed, she had unobserved it, until reading the email.

  She picked up the marker. How did this relate to the baby changing table? Was she supposed to use it to mark the table in some manner? That didn’t seem sensible.

  She peered more closely at the table. There on the side it said, BABY CHANGING TABLE. To be sure: What else would it be? The problem was in the manner it changed the baby.

  She got a faint glimmer of an obscure idea. Could changing the table’s designation change its nature?

  She used the magic marker to write an S before the word TABLE. The word moved over to make room for her addition. Now it was STABLE.

  And before her was a stable, with the ogret sleeping on a mound of hay. The words BABY CHANGING STABLE were on a support beam.

  Well, now. She was making progress. She had invoked the marker and changed the situation. But it wasn’t enough. She had found that she could change the table into something else, but that did not revert the male ogret to a female human baby. What possible word modification would do that?

  Vinia thought, and considered, and pondered, and cogitated. Slowly, reluctantly, another glimmer occurred. Maybe a different word?

  She used the other end of the marker to erase the S. Suddenly the table was back, with the sleeping ogret. Then she applied the marker to the word BABY. She converted it to BABYSITTER.

  Nothing happened. A clarification was needed. “I am the babysitter,” she announced. “And what I say goes, because this is my Challenge and I am the authority here, until the parents return. It’s my job.” She put her free hand on the ogret. “And I say this is a human girl baby in a clean diaper.”

  And it was so.

  Then the scene faded, and Vinia was standing on the path just beyond the cottage. She had won the first Challenge!

  Vinia walked on. Soon she came to a pool. A little sign beside it said SPRING OF FORBIDDEN LOVE.