“Let me look.” She fuzzed into smoke, which then faded. That was something else she would have to stop: acting like a demoness. Soon it reformed. “Yes.”
“Can you take me there?” He knew the adult demoness could, but this one was much smaller.
“Sure.”
“Then do it, but don’t take me right there. Take me nearby, so Debra doesn’t see me travel and know you are a demoness. After we get there, don’t do any demonly things. Better hide those magic matches, too.”
“Okay.” She fuzzed back into smoke. This time it spread out to encompass him. Then there was the half-familiar wrench, and they were elsewhere.
“Thank you,” he said as the smoke retreated and condensed back into the child. “That was very good, Trace.”
“Ooo,” she said, pleased.
“Now remember, you’re a girl, not a demon.”
“Got it, Daddy,” she said winsomely.
“Where is Debra?”
“Around that copse.”
He looked around. “What corpse?”
“Copse. A thicket of small trees. I’m small, so I relate.”
But she had an adult vocabulary, when she wanted it. “So let’s join them.” But then immediately he had a second thought. “Let’s spy on them first. Go into the copse and see what you can learn.”
“Okay!” the child disappeared into the copse.
Soon she was back. “I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them. They said something about finding the Factor—”
“The Factor!”
“And the Nameless Castle. Only they don’t know where it is.”
They were looking for him? That meant that Debra was coming directly after him. But what was this about the Nameless Castle? What did that have to do with it?
But he doubted that the girl knew what he looked like, because he had been confined for so long in the dungeon cell. So he would try to bluff it out.
They walked around the copse. And there was a woman, a young centaur, and two children. This set him back; which one was Debra? She was supposed to be a teen girl. These were too old, too young, or not human. He couldn’t just ask, because that would give away his advance knowledge.
“Why didn’t you tell me one was a centaur?” he whispered to Trace.
“You didn’t ask.”
Even as a child, this demoness could be annoying.
“People!” the little boy exclaimed, spying them.
Commitment. “Hello,” the Factor called. “May we join you?”
“That depends on who you are,” the woman said.
“Fabian. And my half-orphaned daughter Trace.”
“A girl,” the boy said somewhat disdainfully. “I’m Glow.”
Trace smiled at him. It was almost bigger than she was, and surely owed much to the adult demonesses’ experience. The boy visibly melted.
“I’m Ilene,” the girl said. She looked to be about eleven.
“I am Wira,” the woman said.
“And I am Debra,” the centaur said.
She was a centaur! How could that be? Had the demon been wrong?
“Transformed human,” Debra added.
Oh. “You weren’t satisfied in your original form?” he asked.
“She is carrying me,” Wira said. “I am blind.”
What was the agent doing with a blind woman? This was one curious business. “My regret,” he said politely.
She ignored that, surely fathoming that he hardly cared. She was evidently the leader of this little party. “Where are you going?”
He suffered a sudden flash of genius. “I promised Trace a tour of the Nameless Castle.”
That got the woman’s attention. “You know where it is?”
“Yes,” he lied. Not only did he not know, he had no idea what it was. But he had a plan.
“Well, then,” Wira said. “May we travel with you?”
Exactly. Now he just had to find it. “Of course,” he agreed. Then, to Woe Betide: “Trace, didn’t you have to do something in the woods before we get going?”
She glanced at him, and understood. She had to get out of sight so she could turn demoness and locate the Nameless Castle. Then she could quietly tell him, and he would lead the party there.
“I guess so,” she said. She made her way into the copse.
“What happened to your wife?” the girl, Ilene, asked. It was the sort of question girls did ask.
“She ran afoul of a dragon,” he said. “We don’t like to speak of it.”
“That’s so sad,” the centaur said sympathetically.
That surprised him. That was the Factory Agent who was going to capture him? The oddest thing was that he rather liked the look of her, especially her front. He almost wanted to touch it. But of course that would not be wise, for several reasons. She was a centaur, she was underage, and she was the agent. He had to learn her secret weapon and somehow nullify it. So he had no business liking any aspect of her. She was dangerous. Yet she was a winsome creature, quite unlike either the nymphs or the demoness.
“So who’s taking care of your little girl?” Ilene asked.
“I am. It’s quite a job.”
“Surely so,” Debra agreed with further sympathy. And again it got to him. It would be so easy to believe that she really was a nice girl who really did care. He couldn’t afford that. He had to fathom her secret weapon, then figure out how to nullify it. Before she discovered who he was.
Trace returned. “Done,” she reported matter-of-factly. She meant that she had located the castle, because of course as a demoness she had no natural functions unless she wanted them.
“Then it is time to be on our way,” he said, picking her up in a fatherly manner.
“It’s in the sky,” she whispered in his ear. “Floating over the eastern Gap Chasm now.”
He turned to the blind woman, Wira. “There is one problem. The Nameless Castle is out of reach at the moment.”
“Not out of Debra’s reach,” Wira said.
“Oh, of course. She can fly there. However—”
“You can’t,” the little boy, Glow, said.
“Readily solved,” Wira said. “Debra can carry you there, if you show her the way. Then she’ll know, and fetch the rest of us at leisure.”
Ride the centaur? Suppose she knew his identity, and this was a trap to get him on her so that she could carry him helplessly back to the Factory? She had given no indication that she knew, but of course she wouldn’t. Not until her trap sprung.
Yet if she didn’t know, that would give him a far better chance to discover her weapon. He would have to gamble if he wanted to win. And riding on her could be a rather pleasant experience. He decided to gamble. “Excellent,” he said, evincing no doubt.
“Good enough,” Debra said. “Just let me flick you light.” She stepped up close to him, turned about, and flicked him with her tail.
Suddenly he felt astonishingly light. That was the magic of winged centaurs, he remembered. They did not fly by powerful wingbeats, but by lightening themselves and their burdens. It was a convenient system.
“Now mount,” she reminded him.
He did so, putting one hand on her back and jumping. He sailed right over her. She reached up and caught his foot as he passed. “Easy does it,” she murmured as she set him down on her back.
“Thank you,” he said, embarrassed. “I haven’t done this before.”
“Understandable. Now hold on to my mane.”
He took hold of her luxurious hair. “Got it, I think.” Her mane was continuous with her beautiful hair. He wanted to stroke it. In fact he wished he could reach around her torso and stroke something else. What was stirring him?
She spread her wings and flapped them as she leaped into the air. They were thus readily airborne. She spiraled up until they were well above the forest. “Now where to?”
“It is floating over the eastern Gap Chasm,” he said. “Perhaps anchored there for the time being.”
“Anchored in t
he air,” she said, laughing.
He liked it when she laughed. He wished he could see her front, which surely shook in a really interesting manner. At the same time he knew this was flirting with destruction, because she was the agent of his doom.
And he realized that this might be no coincidence. She might have been crafted by the Factory to be exactly the kind of maiden he liked. So that he would be attracted, and come to her, so she could take him in. So he was in more than one kind of danger.
Yet why should they have sent an underaged maiden? It griped him at times, but he did honor the Adult Conspiracy to Keep Interesting Things from Children. If she was supposed to seduce him into mischief, she should have been of age. It wasn’t as if the nymphs or demoness had had any trouble on that score. Surely they had adult maidens to send. It didn’t seem to make sense. That bothered him, because he was sure the Factory was not being nonsensical. Factory folk were always supremely programmed. That’s why they couldn’t abide his randomness.
Unless she was merely an advance scout, sent to locate him and report him to the Factory, which would then send out a competent agent to haul him in. Maybe they didn’t want to waste the time of a full-fledged agent, so wanted to make sure of him first.
Yet the demon had said she was the agent. Could the demon have been wrong? Or was the answer incomplete? Could she be older than she claimed, the seeming youth a mere cover to conceal her real nature? Maybe to keep other men from bothering her until she could orient on the right one, and then turn older, reeling him in? He didn’t dare gamble. He would have to treat her like the real agent, until he knew for sure.
“You became suddenly quiet,” Debra remarked. “Did I laugh inappropriately? I did not mean to give offense.”
Which was an entirely appropriate response for an innocent girl. Which made him think he should try to verify the state of her innocence. The real agent would be anything but innocent. “I had an inappropriate thought,” he said.
“Oh? I don’t think I understand.”
“When you laughed, I wished I could have seen your front.”
She considered. “I still don’t—” She paused. “Or maybe I do.” She blushed, her entire human section turning red, as far as he could see.
“And I wish I could see it now,” he said.
“You are embarrassing me something awful,” she said, the red deepening.
“Centaurs are not embarrassed by natural functions, and male interest in the fronts of females is natural.”
The blush became a flush that heated her skin; he could feel its radiation. “I am not really a centaur. Please, I don’t want you thinking of me like that.”
She was certainly innocent. He doubted any person could fake such color.
Then it came to him: she didn’t know she was an agent. So she really was young and innocent.
“I apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have told you my thought.”
“But I don’t want you to lie to me.” Her color was starting to fade.
And indeed he did not want to lie to her. He wanted her to trust him, and he wanted to be trustworthy for her. He hated the fact that it was necessary to deceive her. He would have to step carefully.
“You appear to be a young grown woman,” he said. “Or filly, as the case may be. Grown men have private thoughts about grown women, finding them attractive. But I know you are several years short of grown, so I should not have expressed my thought. I apologize, and will try not to do it again.”
“Centaurs don’t honor the Adult Conspiracy,” she said. “And I’m from Mundania, where most young folk know what’s in it even if they’re not supposed to. So you really didn’t say anything wrong.”
Yet she had blushed furiously. She might know the content, but she wasn’t used to it. “Still, it was unkind, and I regret it.” And he did.
“It wasn’t even unkind,” she said. “It just caught me off guard. I never thought—as a centaur I am better formed than I was as a human, so it didn’t occur to me that—even though I have caught others looking. So—Oh, I’m all confused!”
“That’s why the Conspiracy exists. To protect young folk like you from concepts they aren’t yet equipped to handle. Your reaction proves it. I’m sorry I was so unpleasant.”
“But I did ask. You did say it was inappropriate. So it was really my fault.”
She was getting to him. “Don’t say that! I was trampling on your innocence. I’m sorry and I wish I could take it back.” The weird thing was that he meant it. She was either a phenomenal actress, or truly as innocent as she seemed.
“No, I need to learn how to handle things. I’m sorry I blushed. I’ll try not to, next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
She paused, then shrugged. He wished he could see that, too, from the front. “I don’t quite know how to say this, so I’ll surely mess it up. But I’d like there to be a—a next time.” Her blush was returning.
He was surprised. “You want me to say something crude again?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I hate it, but I like it. I know that’s crazy.”
She wanted to come across as a girl, but womanly instincts were manifesting. Adults could handle their mature urges, while teens tended to misplay them. It was the classic struggle of teendom. Adults were not supposed to take advantage of it. Yet he was sorely tempted. There was just something about her that drew him in, making him like her. That might be cynically crafted, but it nevertheless worked. He cursed himself for falling into a trap he could plainly see, but continued falling. Still, he temporized. “I shouldn’t.”
“Do you really want to—to see my front?” she asked timidly. “When I laugh?”
What was left but the truth? “Yes.”
She half folded her wings and glided down toward the ground. “Then think of something funny to say after we land.”
“I don’t understand.”
“To make me laugh. While you’re watching.” Her blush intensified again. “Oh, I’m so disastrously naughty! If I had panties I’d be flashing them at you. And I don’t even know you.”
She wanted to impress him. Which meant that she was as eager to have a relationship as he was, probably for no better reason. She was attracted to him, as he was to her. Even though there could be nothing between them, and not merely because of her age and species, and his need to avoid the trap she represented.
“We hardly know each other,” he agreed, mainly because it was the right thing for a proper man to say.
“Yes. That makes it worse.” She came down in a glade, and her legs ran as she touched the ground, so that there would not be a sudden stop.
“This is crazy,” he protested. “For all you know, I could be a—a really bad man.”
“There’s something about bad men,” she agreed. “Maybe you’ll show me what it is.”
He dismounted and faced her. As a centaur, her human portion was significantly higher than he was. “I can’t think of anything funny to say. This is dangerously serious.”
“That’s hilarious!” she said, laughing. “I think I’m hysterical.” She continued laughing, unable to stop.
The effect was every bit as impressive as he had anticipated. He feared this was disaster, but couldn’t help himself. “Get down on your knees,” he said.
“Crazy!” she said, folding all four knees. That brought her head down parallel to his.
He stepped up, put his arms around her bare torso, drew her close against him, and kissed her.
She kissed him back, fiercely. The passion of it flared, encompassing them both. They remained there, timelessly embraced.
At last they fell apart. The Factor sat on the ground before her, not trusting his balance. She remained kneeling, her mane and hair flaring as if electrically charged. He saw the swirling hearts sailing up and away, a dissipating cloud.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“What is it?”
“We have entered a dangerous
new dimension.”
“What is it?” she repeated.
“It’s love. Forbidden love.”
“Forbidden love,” she echoed. “I never expected it.” She pondered half a moment. “But why is it forbidden? I don’t mean because I’m too young. Time will take care of that, and I may be only thirteen, but I know love when I feel it. Or because I’m a centaur. I’ll be a girl again soon enough. Or because you’re a stranger. You aren’t any more. I don’t care about any of that. There’s something else, much worse. I know it, I feel it. What is it?”
He would have to tell her the whole truth, though it damned him. Because he had abruptly fallen in love, and he couldn’t deceive her any more. “You won’t like this.”
“I can’t stand not to know.”
“It will force us to separate, probably forever. It might be better to hide it, so we can be together, at least for a while.”
“I love you,” she said simply. “Nothing can change that.”
“I love you,” he said. “And that is part of the problem.”
“You’re married!” she said with sudden alarm.
“No! I have been with women—well, nymphs and a demoness—but you’re all I want, henceforth.”
“So you’re experienced. I want that, because I’m not. If that’s the worst of it—” She paused. “But it isn’t, is it. You know I truly won’t like it.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me anyway. But kiss me again, first.”
Now he laughed, ruefully. He got up, stepped up, embraced her, and kissed her again. This time the floating little hearts were so thick he could feel them brushing his shirt and her bare back. When they separated, after a brief eternity, he saw that one heart had gotten tangled in her mane. And in his own hair. After a moment the two hearts managed to free themselves, came together, and merged into one larger heart which floated away on the breeze.
He sat down and talked. “I am the Random Factor.”
“The what?”
She didn’t even know of him! “I worked at the Factory some time ago, but I was random, and messed up their business. So they confined me in the dungeon cell of Castle Maidragon, where I wreaked random magic on anyone who opened my cell door. I had no choice; I was cursed to do it, so that no one would try to free me.”