Free Harpy Thyme by Piers Anthony Page B

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    “This must be the place,” Trent said brightly. Gloha had not yet gotten used to his youth and vigor; she would hardly have recognized him if she hadn't known about the youthening. He was a handsome and self-assured man, not at all doddering. Youth elixir was wonderful stuff.
    They dipped their hands and brought sips of the water to their mouths. It tasted faintly of medicine.
    What do you want of me, King Trent?
    “I am about to start a quest with Gloha Goblin-Harpy, and my friends need a place to park for the duration.”
    What do you offer in exchange?
    Trent smiled. “What do you want?”
    What is your quest?
    “To find my ideal man,” Gloha said. Then she had a halfway bright notion. “I don't suppose you have a nice winged goblin male in storage?”
    No. I have a winged centaur filly, however.
    Gloha shook her head. “I can't marry her.”
    But perhaps this is our avenue of exchange. I understand that there is now a winged centaur male.
    “Che Centaur-Chex's foal,” Gloha said. “The only one of his kind. But he's still very young. Just eight years old.”
    Cynthia is not too much older. It is time for her to emerge and learn the ways of contemporary Xanth. By the time she does, Che may be grown.
    “Cynthia,” Trent said. “That name seems familiar.”
    It should, Magician! You transformed her back in 1021.
    “I did? I'm not sure I remember. I transformed so many in those wicked days. Was that about the time I transformed Justin Tree?”
    About. She came to me, and has been here seventy-two years in suspension. Xanth has changed somewhat in that period. She will need time to adjust, and it will be better if another winged monster assists her, and if she is protected from harm until she is competent.
    “I begin to get your gist,” Trent said. “You want us to see to that chore, in exchange for parking our friends here.”
    “Oh, let's do it!” Gloha cried. “I'm sure she's a nice person.”
    Trent glanced at her obliquely. “It would be better to verify that before making the commitment.”
    She realized that it was barely possible that his extra seventy-five years or so of experience counted for something. “I suppose,” she agreed cautiously.
    Then enter the pool and listen to Cynthia's story.
    Trent looked at Gloha, and Gloha looked at Trent. This was safe? But if it wasn't, the Good Magician would come to see what had happened. So they shrugged, almost together, and prepared to enter the pool.
    But there was a complication. Their clothing. It wouldn't be good to get it soaked, but it also wouldn't be good for the two of them to be unclothed in each other's presence. The Adult Conspiracy had firm things to say about that, even when no children were involved. Trent was a mature male man, and Gloha a fully formed (if petite) approximately human crossbreed woman. It would not be appropriate for him to see her panties.
    Don't be silly. Leave your clothing on. Just jump in.
    They exchanged another glance and shrug. Then they held their noses and jumped off either side of Swiftmud.
    Gloha was afraid she would choke, but she had no trouble. She didn't seem to be breathing, but felt no discomfort. She just slowly sank down into the depth, which no longer seemed unpleasant. She saw Trent descending nearby.
    “This is an interesting experience,” he remarked without opening his mouth.
    “Very,” Gloha agreed without opening hers. In addition, her clothing didn't seem to be wet; it neither clung to her nor floated out from her. It remained about the same as it was in the air.
    “I think we must be communicating in thoughts rather than sound,” Trent remarked. “But our ears think it is sound.”
    “That sounds right to me,” she agreed with a small little smile.
    They landed on a pleasant ledge set with pretty shells. There was a winged centaur filly, with brown hair and mane, white wings, and a blouse and jacket covering her human section of torso. That was unusual in a centaur, for