Free Demons of the Dancing Gods by Jack L. Chalker

lifted off effortlessly, like
    Peter Pan or something, often hovering as if gravity didn't exist
    for her, and quite often without spreading those wings at all.
    JACK L. CHALKER
    45
    They weren't necessary for her to fly, that was for sure, and
    he wondered if they were just decorative or whether they had
    some different kind of function. They definitely made wearing
    clothes impossible, so her unnatural endowments were out there
    for the world to see. That, too, would take some getting used
    to. He wanted her, and he knew that any other man who was
    the least bit turned on by women would want her, too. He
    wasn't sure how he'd take that. He'd gone crazy during her
    whole celibacy period, but at least it had been the same for
    every other man she knew. Now, though—well, creatures
    weren't put together that way just for the hell of it. Every fairy
    he'd run into since being in Husaquahr had a particular role to
    play and was more or less designed for the part. It didn't take
    a lecture in fairy lore to tell him what the Kauri's obvious role
    in the supernatural scheme of things was.
    In a sense, it made him feel even more alone, since he knew
    that there was now a gulf separating them forever. She was no
    longer human, nor could she be expected to be human again.
    The fairies always did what they had to do, what they were
    supposed to do, his teachers back at Terindell had assured him.
    While that made them somewhat predictable, it made Marge
    and him more than a world apart.
    He continued to brood as they slowly approached the Firehills,
    alternately cursing Ruddygore for bringing him here and
    himself for feeling weaknesses inside himself he never really
    knew were there.
    The Firehills looked more intimidating the closer he got to
    them. Less a mountain chain than a whole line of continuous
    small volcanoes, their tops were shrouded in white smoke,
    through which occasional flashes of fire were visible now. He
    was worried about that fire, and by the fact that there seemed
    no break as far as the eye could see in that solid, if fairly low,
    black wall. They had been following the now tiny Bird's Breath
    all the way, but soon it petered out into a not-very-wet marsh,
    while the path continued right toward the barrier ahead, with
    no pass in sight.
    There were bushes and many odd-looking groves of trees,
    but now in the air there was the unmistakable smell of sulfur
    and the rotten-egg odor of hydrogen sulfide. The path led through
    brilliantly colored mud pots, some of which occasionally gurgled
    and bubbled and steamed their foul odors. Here and there
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    DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS
    were pools of very clear water, but he could see within the
    pools the discolorations from the settling out of minerals and
    the steam rising off their surfaces. Clearly the Bird's Breath
    had its origins in volcanic waters, and probably should have
    been named Dragon's Breath. It sure smelled like it, anyway.
    Page 37
    Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
    Off in the distance, a geyser spouted a hundred feet or more
    into the air with a great rush and roar, and he stopped momentarily
    to watch it, then became acutely aware that there
    were a lot of geyser holes all around him. He sighed and pressed
    on, trying to reassure himself that it had been Ruddygore who
    had recommended this route. It didn't reassure him all that
    much, though, since Ruddygore had always been more certain
    to get them in trouble than out of it in the past.
    The sun was low in the sky when, threading his way through
    a virtual mine field of volcanic manifestations, not to mention
    leading Marge's horse through it, he finally reached the base
    of the Firehills themselves. The horses were getting jumpy and
    acting uncomfortable from all the hissing, roaring, bubbling,
    smoke, and smells, but they didn't feel anything he didn't feel
    double. He decided that it was time Marge woke up, no matter
    how much beauty sleep she needed.
    After finding that yelling and