you?”
“I am afraid so. That's the real reason I came here for the night, instead of to a camp closer to the home range. I knew it could not pursue me along the enchanted path.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I did not wish to concern you. You are in no danger from it, as long as you remain on the path.”
“But I am concerned. A dragon!”
“You are a nice person. But you must be on your way. I shall merely wait here until the dragon tires of the pursuit.”
“But surely you want to get home. Can you follow the enchanted path instead?”
“I could hoof it, if the path went where I am going. But it does not. I must fly, when I can. Once I get close to home, I have a friend whose talent is to make any animal friendly for half an hour, and that will enable me to get the rest of the way in peace.”
“I have heard that all centaurs are excellent archers. Could you shoot it with an arrow?”
Karia glanced down at her harness. “Ordinarily I could. But it seems this dragon has somehow learned my name.”
Cube saw the problem. “It would make you be carried away, and would pounce on you while you are helpless.”
“Precisely.”
“Maybe I can help you.”
“There is no need. I have enjoyed your company, but do not wish to inconvenience you.”
“No, I want to help, and I think I can. I'll give you some nickelpedes.”
“Nickelpedes!”
“It's my talent: to summon and control them.” Cube squatted and put down a hand, summoning a nickelpede, and one came to her from a nearby crevice. She lifted it. “You see, it doesn't gouge me.”
“That's remarkable! I should have thought the enchantment would prevent them from coming here.”
“I suppose it would, ordinarily. But this one means no harm, so must be all right.” Cube set it on her head, and it nestled in her somewhat messy hair, contented. “I can tell them not to bother you. Then you can throw them at the dragon, and it will go away.”
“That's an interesting ploy. But I fear I would hear my name and be carried away before I could get close enough to do that.”
“Suppose I stay close to you, so I can snap you back?”
“That would do it. Of course if you were with me, you could throw the nickelpedes yourself.”
“Yes I could. I'll do it.”
“But this would take you off the path, and cost you time. I can't ask you to make that sacrifice.”
“It's no sacrifice. I want to help.”
“You're so nice. But--” Karia paused again. “There is one thing. There is a good-sized river. The enchanted path of course has a safe crossing, but that is some distance downstream. I could carry you across a shortcut, saving you as much time as I cost you, perhaps more.”
“That's great.”
“And the dragon would assume that we were vulnerable while over the river. So it would attack. I will drift, but slowly, and you can deal with it when it gets close enough.”
“Done.”
“Get on my back and I will take you to the river. Then we shall see.”
Karia settled on the ground, and Cube climbed on her back. “I've never ridden a centaur before, or anything else. I hope I don't fall off.”
“You will not.” The centaur's tail flicked, and Cube suddenly felt very light. “I have made you light so I will be able to fly with you. If by some mischance you did fall off, you would merely drift slowly to the ground.”
“Fabulous.”
They set off along the enchanted path. Karia trotted competently; she did not need to use her wings. She had made herself light, using the winged-centaur magic, so was using very little energy. Her wings were folded against her back, looking like a feather cloak.
The dragon followed, watching them from the sky. Cube had not realized