No doubt. Like most teenage girls, she could twist her father around her littlest finger, just as she did with her grandfather on the goblin side. Cheiron had to admit that she could indeed be useful, because most goblins were surly and guilty ones would be worse. How surly would they be when they encountered her? Several rungs, grades, and degrees less than otherwise, surely, especially if there were young young males who were interested in pretty young females. That was to say, all of them.

They flew on to Mount Rushmost. Cheiron felt marginally better, because the scope of the plot had been reduced. But the matter was still desperately serious.

A harpy flew up as he landed. "News, horse-bird!" she screeched. "I saw your foal!"

"Where?" Cheiron asked, excited.

"Trudging south with a funny big elf, captive of the Golden Horde."

Cheiron felt a terrible chill. "The horde? Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure!" she screeched. "That's my home territory. I snatch their leavings. That's why I watch them. When their spies reported fresh meat on the river, they hustled up there and nabbed it, with help from Fracto the cloud. I'll bet they're going to cook them both!"

Cheiron was seldom speechless, but for some reason he was this time. So Gloha filled in for him. "Thank you, harpy. We appreciate your information, and will go there immediately to rescue Che." Then she reconsidered. "Did you say an elf?"

"Yes, an odd one," the harpy screeched. "Pointed ears and four-fingered hands. A girl, bigger than any other."

"She must have gotten very weak, so far from her elm."

"She was tired but not weak," the harpy screeched. "She was helping the foal when he stumbled. They looked like friends." She laughed raucously. "Can you imagine! Friends!" She spread her wings and took off, her backdraft smelling awful, in the typical harpy way.

Cheiron remembered something Chex had said, as she had babbled out her message: she had briefly encountered an odd elf girl, and her orange cat. Could this be the same elf? How did this relate to the abduction of Che? And how could they be friends? Che had no elf friends; the elves generally kept to their own business, and there was no elm near the home glade. They were good enough folk and a bulwark against goblins in their territory. But Che must have met her since the abduction. Friends? Che was more choosy than that!

But the elf was captive too, evidently. Maybe she had been traveling alone and the goblins had captured her on the same foray, so had lumped the two together. That would not be friendship, but common misery. That made more sense. Nevertheless, he could afford to take nothing for granted. "We shall have to rescue that elf, too," he said.

"Oh, good!" Gloha exclaimed. "I'd love to meet her. I get along well with odd creatures."