Hilda sighed. “I don’t think I dare argue with the green. I have seen too much of your seemingly miraculous successes. Take the minicarpets. Take a vial of Ion’s antivirus elixir, to be sure he’s clean. Bring him back. I will clear it with Apoca.”

  “Thank you.” Vinia took the carpets, rolling one up to carry and riding the other. It was controlled by her shifts of weight: she had practiced with it before, curious, and now she realized that there had been a reason she had not known at the time: to prepare her for this. How much of her life had been governed by the paths, before she became conscious of them? Maybe most of it. That was a bit eerie in retrospect.

  Vinia went to Ion, who gave her the vial and a kiss.

  She then flew the little carpet to the settlement where they had left Vol, using the ring to orient on him. “Vol!” she called when she approached it. The Volent women in that area stared submissively at her, but Vol heard her. “What?” he asked, confused.

  “Remember me? Vinia? From the party of children who escaped you, then brought you here?”

  “I remember. But you don’t want to be here, girl. News of your appearance here is already spreading, and the men regard you as fair game despite your youth.”

  “Neither do you want to be here. You’re not into submissive women.” She unrolled the companion carpet. “Get on this and hang on to my hand. I am taking you to a better place.”

  He pondered most of a moment. Then he saw men converging on them. He jumped onto the carpet and took her hand. She flew up, towing him unsteadily. They barely cleared the heads of the men, who stared up openmouthed at the flying carpets. Then they were high in the sky and away.

  “If I hadn’t been on your big carpet before, I’d never believe this.” Vol glanced down. “Or dared to do it.” He paused for a shaky breath. He was a soldier, but perching precariously on a miniature flying carpet was surely not his normal course. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I … was told to do it. Do you think you could live with a Lips woman, if she did not make you a love slave?”

  “Maybe. They’re sexy as Hades. But why would she not enslave me? I’m an enemy man.”

  “I don’t know. But I think they need an independent man.”

  “This is weird.”

  “Weird,” she agreed. “How do you feel about a warrior woman?”

  “If she’s shaped like a Lips, I’d love to get my hands on her. I don’t go for those virus-infected submissives, as you seem to know. I like a woman with fire.”

  That reminded her. “I need to disinfect you. This won’t hurt you, just clean out any virus with you.”

  “Okay.”

  She opened the vial. The vapor surrounded them both. Little sparks flew. He had indeed been contaminated, but now he was clean. “Done,” she said.

  “I guess the virus would sort of mess up the point,” he agreed.

  They arrived back at the wicker castle. Tarzana was on guard. “Vinia! What is this? You took a prisoner?”

  “Not exactly, Tara. Please, I want you to kiss this man without your power.”

  Both Tarzana and Vol stared at her.

  “Please. It’s important.” Because the path was solidly green. Even for her accidental simplification of the name.

  “The queen told me to do whatever you said.” Tarzana approached Vol, who was plainly of mixed sentiments: he was admiring her heroically female proportions, but afraid of her lips.

  “Trust me, Vol,” Vinia told him. “Kiss her.”

  The Vol and the Lips came together and kissed. Then he stepped back. “I’m not changed,” he said in wonder.

  “If you make peace with the Lips,” Vinia said, “you can have one to be your girlfriend. She will not enslave you but will tell you what to do so you can be among them without trouble.”

  “How about her?” he asked, looking at Tara.

  “If she is interested.” Vinia knew she was. She had figured that these two could connect.

  Tarzana looked at him. “You’re a reasonably handsome man. Do you want me?”

  “Your kiss did not enslave me, Tara, but it did tempt me. It made me wonder how it would be with you if you wanted to be with me, instead of just showing how you don’t have to wipe me out. What would you give me if I agreed?”

  “Everything.” Tara was not socially subtle, being a warrior.

  “Deal!”

  “Deal,” she agreed. Vinia could see that they were already quite interested in each other, he because he desired a shapely woman, she because she wanted the unforced desire of a man. Probably she had seen how men looked at Jane and envied it.

  Vol’s breathing had quickened. “When?”

  She glanced sidelong at him, maybe a technique she had observed in Jane. “My shift ends in half an hour. Then I can get out of my armor. Maybe out of more.”

  He licked his lips. “I’ll wait.”

  Vinia departed, following her green path away from them. She had two carpets to return to Hilda. Neither the man nor the women seemed to miss her.

  Two days later they were all aboard the vastly expanded carpet: the four children, Apoca with Nimbus, and about fifty Lips women of all ages. All the grown Lips were buxom, and all had translucent hair amplifying the colors of their scalps, but they were limited to single colors: red, green, blue, yellow, black, gray, or combinations, which did not reflect their moods. It did make them easy to tell apart, because no two were identical. In fact Vinia found it easier to think of them by their colors rather than their given names.

  Tara and Vol were there, too, holding hands. “Hello,” Vinia said brightly, knowing they would not tell her what they had done together in the interim. “How is everything?”

  Vol smiled. “She made a love slave of me.”

  The paths flashed black. “Oh, no! She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

  Tara laughed. “Relax, child. I did it the old-fashioned way. I seduced him ten times in succession. It was fun.”

  Vol joined her laugh. “You didn’t need to. You already had me locked in at nine, maybe eight.”

  “Maybe even seven or six,” she agreed. Then, to Vinia: “The distinction between a kissed love slave and an earned one is that the first is the slave of any woman he encounters. It’s like the virus, sapping all willpower. But the second orients on the one woman; he is not subject to any others.”

  That struck Vinia as a useful lesson. She lacked the power of the Lips kiss, but the earned attachment was better.

  The full group stood on the front deck of the carpet as Apoca addressed them. “I regret being mysterious about our destination, before,” she said, her hair flashing yellow. “But it was important that the Volents not know it, and there could be spies among the servants. Now it can be told. There is a new kingdom being established, actually a queendom, organized and run by militantly independent females of many species. Even the nickelpedes.” She put a hand on her shoulder and lifted Nimbus up for all to see. “This is Nimbus, who as you can see is not gouging me. Neither will the ones in the queendom: you may safely befriend any you choose, and they will help you explore the premises. There is a truce between the species there.” Nimbus waved a pincer as Apoca put her back on her shoulder. “The new nation is titled Thanx. There are males there, but they are not in charge, and they do prefer their females fiery. Any man who joins the Queendom of Thanx does so with the understanding that he has no political future there, and the woman he is with will be imperious.” She smiled, her hair turning green yellow. “That said, an imperious woman can make a man quite satisfied to be with her, when she chooses.”

  The Lips women laughed. They knew exactly what she was talking about.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Vol murmured, covertly pinching Tara’s bottom. She pinched his bottom back.

  “When we arrive,” Apoca continued, “I will be circulating among the females, doing my secret thing. Prince Ion has given me a vial of elixir that will lock the ones I meet into secrecy on that score: you already understand the need. You may go out to meet the men of the adjacent kingdoms, who are coming to respect the feminist state. We expect to reside there permanently, protecting it from the virus and invading males, and to establish families of our own. We will be safe there. We need fear no more Volent attacks.”

  There was a cheer. It was clear that the Lips woman were tired of being constantly besieged by men who wanted only one thing, which was not independence.

  “When you meet the men,” Apoca continued, as she beckoned Vol and Tara forward, “you will need to woo them without kissing them into slavery. Use the power kiss only when one attempts to abuse you. Now those interested will have a chance to rehearse. We have a man here, a Volent, a willing captive. You may kiss him and practice your wiles on him. But be warned: you are not to try to kiss him into slavery. If you do, you will have to deal with his woman.” Tara, in full armor and armed, bared her teeth as if about to chomp off an arm or leg. She was a fearsome figure.

  Then Vol and Tara embraced, and kissed, showing their relationship. They separated. “Jump,” Tara ordered Vol. Instead he spanked her.

  “As you can see, he has not been enslaved, at least not in the manner we do when we kiss for effect.” Apoca said. “Each interview will terminate with that demonstration. You will not, I repeat NOT, kiss him for effect.”

  “Actually this is just practice,” Apoca murmured to Vinia. “When a man is enslaved by true love, our kisses no longer have effect. But we need to have them amend their reflexes, so that other men don’t get enslaved by accident.”

  They separated, and Vol took center stage. “One minute of flirting is all you get,” Apoca told them. “Make the most of it. Perfect your technique.”

  An instant line formed. Tara sent the first woman, a red-haired vixen, on to interact with Vol. She smiled at him, then hugged and kissed him passionately. She put her hands on him in places she shouldn’t, and he returned the favor. Then she ordered him to jump. Instead he spanked her bottom.

  The group laughed. The demonstration had been made. He had not been kissed into slavery.

  The next woman was green-haired Jana. Vinia was concerned, because she was significantly prettier than Tara, but the paths remained green. Jana kissed Vol and squeezed his bottom, and he squeezed hers. She drew his head down and pressed his face into her heaving bosom. Then she stepped back and let her skirt fly up to expose her marvelously full green panties. He looked and freaked out.

  “Wake,” she said, snapping her fingers as her skirt dropped back into place.

  Vol recovered, seeming a bit bemused.

  “Spank,” Jana said.

  Vol jumped.

  The throng burst into laughter as Vol returned to Tara for a hug. It had been another little act, but three things were apparent: the man had not been enslaved, and he did belong to Tara, and he was very much enjoying this demonstration with the ladies, dangerous as they were. Tara, far from being jealous, was clearly proud to show him off. She had nailed her man, as she said, the old-fashioned way. Someday Vinia hoped she herself would be able to do the same with Ion. They loved each other already, but there was obviously more to learn.

  There was more discussion and clarification, as other women took their turns, but that was the essence. Vinia and Ion retired to their cubby for some relaxation and kissing. That much, at least, they could do.

  The flight continued, with frequent practice sessions, as it was manifest that all participants enjoyed them. Vinia herself even took a turn, kissing Vol and getting spanked by him. “You did me such an enormous favor, I don’t think I can ever repay you,” he told her. “You gave me my dream.”

  “Well, we needed a demonstration model.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know what your secret is, but I can tell that you are the center of this narrative.”

  She shrugged. “Somebody had to be.”

  In due course they arrived at Thanx, where Queen Demesne welcomed them, clearly her old independent self. Then the Lips women went out to meet the men of the neighboring human kingdom, who had been advised of the occasion. It seemed that several of them were quite willing to swear fealty to the queendom, in exchange for shapely and accommodating Lips wives who were no longer enemies. Peace with the neighbors was already being established.

  Meanwhile Apoca and Nimbus went quietly on their own errand, first to the princesses, then the allied females. The invading virus was being quietly eliminated.

  In the evening there was a curious visit that occurred while Vinia, Apoca, and Nimbus were relaxing after a busy day. The queen of Hoo-Hah paid Demesne a visit, attended by the dancing girl Dulcie. Vinia remembered both from a certain complication with a potency elixir during the visit to WhoHe, the king of Hoo-Hah. This could be mischief. Yet the paths were generally green.

  Demesne glanced at Vinia, who nodded affirmatively. There was something to be gained here.

  Queen Wilda spotted Vinia immediately. “Introduce us,” she snapped.

  “Uh, this is Queen Wilda of Hoo-hah, with her servant Dulcie,” Vinia said awkwardly. “Queen Demesne of Thanx, and Queen Apoca of the Lips tribe.”

  “Ah, the Lips,” Wilda agreed. “That is what I am here for. I want a Lips woman as a mistress for my husband.”

  This set them back somewhat. “Are you aware of our nature?” Apoca inquired cautiously.

  “Yes. If he mistreats her, she will kiss him into submission.”

  “But why would you want such a woman in your palace?” Demesne asked.

  Wilda smiled glacially. “With her there, he is unlikely to seek any other mistresses. That will be a relief to the rest of us.”

  Apoca made a soundless whistle. “I note that you believe in candor.”

  Wilda glanced at Demesne and Vinia. “I believe you comprehend my husband’s nature. A bit more self-discipline would be in order. Do you disagree?”

  A smile struggled to escape Demesne’s lips, and finally succeeded. “No.”

  “There are problems,” Apoca said. “All my Lips subjects are required to remain resident here in Thanx. Going to the Kingdom of Hoo-Hah would not be in order. Also, the Lips woman would have to be amenable to such an assignment.”

  Wilda cracked a bit of a smile. “She would have what amount to royal prerogatives, with the very best in residence, food, and treatment.” Now a frown appeared. “She would have to manage King WhoHe, but I suspect that a Lips woman would be capable.”

  “What do you offer for such a placement?” Demesne asked.

  “Peace between our nations. Even cooperation.”

  Demesne nodded. Those were good offerings.

  “Maybe if you set up an embassy,” Vinia suggested, seeing a green path. “Wouldn’t its premises be considered part of Thanx?”

  “Excellent idea,” Demesne agreed. “Would that satisfy you, Queen Apoca?”

  “Their kingdom is adjacent to Thanx? I believe it would.”

  “Then perhaps you should query your remaining citizens.” She glanced at Vinia. “To find an amenable one. I don’t mind if it is an act, as long as she maintains it.”

  “I’ll do it,” Vinia agreed. Her paths would lead her to the right person.

  She went to the section that had been set aside for the Lips. A man was constructing a large wicker framework. Of course; they had brought their architect along. There was a small crew of Lips women helping him, following his instructions, to make the work go faster. One of them stood close to him and kissed him occasionally. That, too, was obvious in retrospect: they had made him amenable by providing him with a friendly Lips woman, no slavery. Maybe she was more than a friend. It was surprising how eager these women seemed to be for nonslave men who were not demanding complete submission. It seemed that both genders preferred independence in the other, to a reasonable extent.

  The green path led to one of the working women. This one was yellow of hair and eye, her dress matching, and her face was fair. “May I talk with you?” Vinia asked. “I’m Vinia, on an errand.”

  The woman looked at her. “Me? I know who you are; you’re Prince Ion’s consort. But I am Yasmine, supposedly a fragrant flower. In fact I am nobody.”

  “Didn’t you go to check out the visiting men of Hoo-Hah?”

  “No. I was busy here. I wouldn’t have wanted any of them, anyway; I have delusions of grandeur. You know, fancy clothing, gourmet food, highbrow entertainment, lots of spare time. Those men couldn’t provide it.”

  The path had been correct. “How would you like to be the mistress of the King of Hoo-Hah?”

  Yasmine laughed. “I’d love it! It wouldn’t matter how boorish he is; all men are like that. It is easy to satisfy their passion and put them to sleep. It’s the royal life I crave. But now that we’ve had our little joke, why are you still talking with me?”

  “Because Thanx is looking for an ambassador to Hoo-Hah, and we think you’re the one for that.”

  “Ambassador! I’m a common girl. Isn’t the joke wearing thin?”

  “It’s no joke. Come with me. You are about to realize your dream.”

  Yasmine shook her head doubtfully but did accompany Vinia to the dragon’s cave.

  Queen Wilda spied them as they entered. “She’ll do,” she said.

  “But you haven’t even met her yet,” Demesne protested.

  “She wouldn’t be here if she weren’t interested. I am judging by her appearance. She’s got the goods; the king will like her. That’s all that counts.”

  Demesne glanced at Vinia. “Green?”

  “Yes.” Then, belatedly, Vinia introduced them. “This is Yasmine Lips. This is Queen Wilda of Hoo-Hah.”

  Demesne looked at Yasmine. “You are now our ambassador to Hoo-Hah. You may spend your time with King WhoHe until we contact you.”

  “But I know nothing about politics!” Yasmine protested.

  “Neither does the king,” Wilda said. “I handle the routine things, like running the kingdom. He handles the important things, like grabbing girls. This way, dear.”