"Thank you so much, peeve. That explains everything." She looked around. "What will will they eat? We don't want them to start in on each other before the robots even get here." they eat? We don't want them to start in on each other before the robots even get here."

D. Vore appeared. "I'll check with Dad." He vanished.

"I'll check with Humfrey," Dara said, fading out.

"I'll check on the children," Metria said. "Nada may be getting tired of minding them both on her own."

They were alone. They ate the pies and washed in Mountain Lake. This was in the shape of a mountain, of course, with the water angling up to the peak. It seemed to be a big wave that got caught on land, so stayed put. The land beneath it was fairly level, but the rising surface soon made it too deep to wade in.

"This is weird, swimming uphill," Hannah said, doing so. Then she heaved herself out of the water, spread herself flat, and slid down the slope to the sh.o.r.e.

They settled down for the night, lying side by side on their bed of leaves, with Hannah on the hard ground as usual. "Does it seem cool to you?" Gwenny asked.

"No, it's warm."

"Dumbbell!"

"Are you sure?" She squiggled up next to him.

Oh. "Maybe it is is cool," he agreed. cool," he agreed.

"That's good."

She rolled into him. Then he discovered that she wasn't wearing anything. "But I thought-you haven't-"

"I haven't decided whether to marry you," she said. "I'm still gathering evidence. Do you have any?"

"I think you do."

"With Go-Go, we waited until we were married to-"

"I am nothing like Go-Go. Hadn't you noticed?"

He hadn't thought about it. She was right: she and Go-Go were both female goblins. Both were comely. There the resemblance ended. Go-Go had been content to be a homebody; Gwenny was a lady chief. Go-Go was inclined to go along with whatever was usual; Gwenny was an a.s.sertive leader. Go-Go had liked to dance in her special way; Gwenny couldn't dance. Go-Go had been cursed; Gwenny seemed blessed. They were different in practically every way he could think of.

Except one. He loved them both.

"Oh, Gwenny," he said. "Whatever you want-I want too."

"I haven't decided," she reminded him.

"Of course."

"This is merely an interaction."

"Yes."

It turned out to be some interaction. Fortunately the parody had gone to sleep, or had the wit to keep its beak shut. The same, perhaps, went for Hannah Barbarian.

The first to arrive next day were the centaurs: a hundred archers, male and female, led by Chevalier himself, flanked by Cheery.

"The dumbbell and the knockers," the parody said loudly.

The filly frowned. "You can't fool me again, parody. I know it's you, and will not tolerate it."

"Yeah, b.o.o.bsy twins? You and who else?"

Her bow appeared in her hands, an arrow nocked. She loosed it without seeming to aim. It flew between Goody's shoulder and the bird's feet, the fletching sc.r.a.ping the peeve's tail. "Squawk!" it protested. "You almost hit me!"

"Next time I'll aim more carefully. Now fetch me back my arrow."

"What?!"

The second arrow oriented. "Dart, shaft, quarrel, bolt, barb-"

The peeve was on its way. Soon it returned with the spent arrow held in its beak. Evidently the arrow had been lightened to make this possible. Cheery's bow had disappeared. She lifted one hand. The bird dropped the arrow into it.

Chevalier's mouth barely thought about twitching. He had remained studiously indifferent, but the point had been made. The filly's first arrow had gone exactly where she intended, making its point. The centaurs would not be subject to more hara.s.sment by the bird.

"You are the first," Goody said. "I suppose you can pick the area you wish to defend. We'll need to circle the mountain so the robots can't reach it from any direction."

"We'll require a territory with good foraging for food and supplies," Chevalier said.

"This area is lean," Goody said. "We'll have to bring in supplies."

"Past the robots?"

"I hope Magician Trent will have an answer for that. He has agreed to supervise the operation."

"Excellent. We know of him from way back. But we thought he had retired as the human monarch."

"He did. That's why he is available."

There was a m.u.f.fled pop, and a puff of smoke formed and dissipated. "Did I hear my name?" Trent inquired.

"Spoken with respect," Chevalier said. "I am Chevalier Centaur, head stallion of Centaur Isle."

"We know of you, too," Trent said. "We're glad to have your contingent." The two shook hands. "Now what is your question?"

"We and the other contingents will need supplies, especially food. We can ring the mountain, but the robots may in turn ring us. We will not be as effective if hungry."

"I believe we can handle that," Trent said. "I discussed it with the Professor."

There was another puff of smoke, and a grim older demon appeared. He had to have been there, invisible, because Trent could not have traveled in such manner by himself. "I heard my name," Demon Professor Grossclout said. "Food will be provided."

Chevalier nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

"Bogey at two o'clock!"

A flight of ungainly birds was arriving. These manifested as harpies as they came closer. "Very good," Trent said.

The lead harpy spied them and flapped in. "Fowlmouth Harpy here," she screeched. "Where can we land?"

"Good to see you, Fowlmouth," Trent said. "Settle adjacent to the centaurs. We have special use for you."

The harpy leader eyed the centaurs. "We don't do it with their breed. Too big."

The Magician did not smile at her crude humor. "As I remember, the harpies have control of the lunch box plantation."

"That's right," she screeched. "We could feed an army."

"That's exactly what is required. We have an army to feed. Can you ferry in enough boxes?"

Fowlmouth looked doubtful. "We have enough, but can't carry more than two at a time. How many troops do you have?"

"Thousands, we hope."

"Thousands! It would take us a month!"

"Suppose they are made light, so you could carry twenty at a time, in bags?"

"That would help. But how would that be done?"

"We have two flying centaurs you can guide to the plantation."

"We don't a.s.sociate with that kind," Chevalier said grimly.

"Nor do you need to," Trent said smoothly. "They will not be on the field of battle."

"Making things light," Fowlmouth screeched. "It will do. But we hear there will be flying machines. We can't fight and carry at the same time."

"The centaurs will shoot those machines out of the air as they approach you," Trent said, "providing a safe corridor."

"That we can do," Chevalier agreed.

Goody saw that it was working out. Magician Trent was already taking charge and addressing the problems. Harpies were leading the two flying centaurs away.

Now there was a series of pops as demons materialized. "Here to me, demons," the Professor called. "Mush! Mush!"

The demons coalesced around him. "Good to work with you, Gross-clout," one said. "We remember your cla.s.ses."

"You had better," the professor said gruffly. "Follow me." He vanished. So did they.

Now a pack of wolves ran in. Their leader approached Trent and transformed to manform. "Prince Jeremy Werewolf," he said.

"Magician Trent. We met when you married Jenny Elf."

"I remember. What can we do for you?"

"We have not as yet decided, but I'm sure you will be effective."

"If I may make a suggestion. My wife had an idea."

"Let's have it."

"We understand you also recruited elves."

"True."

"They can be doughty warriors, but are known to lack strength away from their trees."

"They will have to operate near their trees," Trent agreed.

"Suppose we gave them rides?"

"I am not sure I understand."

"Where Jenny comes from, elves are wolf riders. She knows how it is done. We could carry them, greatly increasing their range. They could use their weapons from our backs, protecting us."

Trent nodded. "This may have merit. We'll consult with the elves when they arrive."

The parody noticed something. It flew high in the air, peering beadily about. "Bogey at twelve o'clock!"

"What species?" Trent asked.

"Goblins. A gang of them."

"That would be my contingent," Gwenny said. "Goody, I must go supervise them." She kissed him quickly, then vanished as Vore carried her away.

Magician Trent glanced at Goody. "So Chiefess Gwenny Goblin has finally found a partner?"

"She is considering," Goody said uneasily. "I am Goody Goblin. I-we-seem to have been responsible for bringing the first robot here."

"The dope was suckered," the peeve explained.

"I am Magician Trent. My talent is transformation. I am glad to meet you, Goody." He reached down, extending his right hand.

Astonished, Goody just stood there. "Shake his hand," Hannah whispered. "That's how humans greet folk."

"But I'm not a chief or anything!"

"Idiot!" the bird said.

Goody reached up to shake the Magician's hand. He was able to grasp only two fingers. Trent seemed not to notice. "You have, I believe, already met the representatives of the dragons, other goblins, naga, and ogres?"

"Yes, Magician."

"We are expecting the dragons to converge at Lake Wails, not far to the south. The ogres are marching north from OgreChobee and should arrive soon near the Singing Tower. I would appreciate it if you would meet both contingents and help them orient. They need to be sure that no robots penetrate their quadrants."