Free Pet Peeve by Piers Anthony

his voice. Her voice. Whatever.”
    The fire eased into hot coals. “Oh. So what does he/she want?”
    “I want to get back my gender,” Goody said. “Do you know where No Woman's Land is?”
    “It won't drudge.”
    Goody hated this, but was stuck for it, because he wanted her help. “Won't what?”
    “Strain, pull, exert, labor, do a job—”
    “Work?”
    “Whatever! You can't get from here to there.”
    “But I have to change back!”
    “Too bad. Oo-toodle.” Metria faded out.
    “Oo-toodle?” Hannah asked.
    “She gets her words confused,” Goody said.
    “Didn't you notice, poop-for-brains?”
    Hannah flicked a finger at the bird, reminding Goody oddly of the Finger that had started him on this adventure, and the parody twitched a wing as if ready to fly.
    “So it seems we have a problem,” the barbarian said.
    “We?”
    “Less of one for me. Do you think you can complete your mission as a gobliness?”
    “No!”
    “But you know your personality already matches. You can make a very good lady goblin.”
    “Something's missing.”
    “Fortunately it doesn't show.”
    “Haw haw haw!” the peeve laughed.
    Goody didn't find it all that funny, but realized that the bird hadn't meant him to be amused. “We've got to get to No Woman's Land.”
    “But the demoness said—”
    “Metria may not have had quite the right word.”
    She looked at him with masked pity. “Very well. We'll search for the route.”
    They walked on. Soon they came to a dog whose body was in the shape of a numbered dial with a long pointer and a short pointer radiating from its center. It was sitting and scratching ceaselessly.
    Goody had sympathy for animals in trouble. “What's the matter?” he asked it.
    The dog glanced at him as if he were an idiot and went on scratching.
    “I believe that's a watch dog,” Hannah said.
    “And it's got ticks,” the peeve said.
    Goody realized that there was no cure for what ailed the dog, because when the ticks stopped, so would the dog. So he walked on, hoping this was not a clumsy parallel to his own situation.
    Next they came to an olive green girl sitting beside the path. She was holding a baby. This seemed odd, because the storks normally did not deliver to children.
    “Let's leave the peeve out of this,” Hannah said. “Better that you talk to her alone.”
    “Bleep!” But the bird fluttered to her shoulder, knowing that nothing would happen until it did.
    Goody walked on. The girl continued to croon to her baby.
    “Hello, little girl,” Goody said, wondering whether it would be polite to inquire about the baby. Probably not, but he could ask about No Woman's Land.
    “Hello, goblin girl,” the child replied.
    “I am Goody. I was wondering—”
    “I am I love you.”
    That set him back. “I don't think I—”
    “Olive Hue,” she repeated carefully. “Because I'm green.”
    Oh. “I apologize for mishearing.”
    “That's all right. Everybody does. I'm green because I envy all you normal folk with real friends. What's your talent?”
    “I'm not sure I have one. Most goblins don't.”
    “Mine's to make imaginary friends. This is Lorlai.”
    “Lorelei?” he asked, surprised, because that was the name of the Siren's sister.
    “Lorlai Fiona,” she said carefully. “She's 4.7 months old. She needs me.”
    “I apologize for—”
    “Everybody does. I can make others.”
    “Others?”
    “Imaginary friends.” The baby faded out.
    Goody was finding this exchange to be more challenging than anticipated. “Uh, all right.”
    Two bigger girls appeared. They were evidently twins, one of light complexion, the other dark.
    “Hello, Goody,” the dark one said. “I am Olive's imaginary friend Suretha. My talent is to turn day to night.” The light of day faded, and the scene became dark.
    “And I am her sister Sharina,” the other girl said. “My talent is to turn night to day.” The darkness abated, and it was day again.
    Goody digested this. Imaginary friends with