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understand perfectly, so Grundy Golem was translating. First the rocs and griffins listened to the
squawks, and ruffed out their feathers and flexed their claws. Then the dragons listened to the growls,
and puffed out slow jets of fire, smoke, or steam, depending on their species.
"I will not attack the mountain at the outset," Cheiron continued as the translations caught up. "I will
deliver an ultimatum: they will have a set time in which to deliver Che to me, unharmed. If they do so,
we will depart in peace." As the translations reached that point, the creatures showed disappointment.
They preferred to fight. It was not that they didn't want to save Che, it was that it was more glorious to
wrest him by battle than to have him handed over without struggle.
"If they do not do so, we will attack," Cheiron said, and at that point there were squawks of approval and
fierce jets of fire, smoke, and steam. "We will take out their guards at the surface and smoke out the
deeper denizens." Here the smokers exhaled, for a moment disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Some folk
thought that smoke was not as effective as fire, but the fact was that in an enclosed space, smoke was
more deadly than fire. Those goblins would come out coughing! "But we shall do so in an orderly
manner, halting the moment they capitulate. This is a rescue mission, not a destruction mission."
"But suppose they kill the foal?" the sphinx inquired.
Cheiron saw Chex flinch. He wished that question had not been asked, but he had to answer it. "Then we
destroy that tribe completely," he said grimly.
They made suitable expressions of regret for the loss of the foal, but were thrilled at the prospect of
mayhem on this level. It had been a long time since there had been a prospect like this. Cheiron was
privately disgusted, but knew that his posse had to have the capacity to reduce that mountain to rubble;
otherwise the goblins would laugh at me ultimatum. They might laugh anyway, until a demonstration of
power was made.
"We expect to arrive at night," Cheiron concluded. "We will rest until morning, and then survey the
situation while we negotiate. Remember: we may make a show of force, but we will not actually attack
until they either refuse to yield the captive or show bad faith. Discipline is paramount."
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They understood. They did not enjoy discipline, but it was the price of admission into the posse.
Grundy Golem joined Gloha on Cheiron's back, because he expected to use both of them in the
negotiations. Gloha would talk to the goblins, and Grundy would translate for the benefit of the posse.
They took off. The small creatures hitchhiked rides with the larger ones, so dragon files kept company
with full dragons and the cockatrice rode with a roc. The harpies were relatively clumsy flyers, so they
too had to hitch rides, promising not to befoul their steeds.
They flew in formation, north-northeast. The strongest flyers were the rocs, so they stifled their pace and
formed a wedge in front, forging a channel for the others. The posse made swift progress to the Gap
Chasm and beyond, as the day waned into dusk and then into night. They skirted the Kingdom of the
Flies and die Element of Air, not wanting trouble on the way.
"I don't think I know you, Gloha," Grundy said. "I know of you, of course; when your parents came
together, it almost made for a war. But you've been among the winged monsters, mostly, and not at
Castle Roogna."
"Well, I am a winged monster" she replied.
"I never saw a prettier monster!" he exclaimed.
She grew hot, evidently blushing. Cheiron didn't mean to snoop on their dialogue, but there was little
way to avoid it. "I wish there were a monster of my kind. But I'm the only one."
"I'm the only one of my kind, too," Grundy said. "But I found it didn't matter, when I met Rapunzel, the
only one of her kind."
"But you're not a winged monster," she pointed out. "You don't have an obligation to establish a new
species, without sacrificing its best properties."
"You've got a point," Grundy said. "The goblins and the harpies have been fighting so long that there
hasn't been any interbreeding in centuries. But I guess there used to be, in the early days. I wonder if
there are any winged goblins in the Brain Coral's pool?"
"The Brain Coral's pool!" she exclaimed. "I never thought of that! Oh, I wonder if it could be so? Maybe
there's a man for me in there!"
"Who knows?" Grundy agreed. "Maybe you should go and ask the Good Magician."
"Maybe I should! After we rescue Che."
"You know, Che faces the same problem," Grundy said. "He's another winged monster, with no other of
his kind. You might go together, and maybe one Question would answer you both."
"Maybe it would! Oh, Grundy, you've given me something to look forward to!"
The same applied to Cheiron. He had worried about the fate of his foal, knowing that there were none
for him to mate with; even if there were one year a sister-foal, she would not do. If the species was to
become established, they needed to find other winged centaurs-and as far as he knew, there were none in
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