He got the dragon to describe the other folk as well as it could, and gradually he pieced it together. One girl was stunningly beautiful: that sounded like Nada Naga. Chex had said that a number of search parties had gone out, and the two Betrothees of Prince Dolph formed one party. The dragon had also noted the pointed ears of the elf girl. So the Betrothees could have rescued Che and the elf, and then Prince Dolph could have come and assumed the form of a sphinx, so as to carry them. The goblins must be prisoners, perhaps hostages. So Che had been saved.

But the dragon said the party was going north, away from Che's home. That seemed to make no sense! The sphinx could have crunched right through the goblin camp, gone directly home, and been there by now. Why was it going the wrong way?

"You look puzzled, centaur," a voice said.

He looked but saw nothing. "Who are you?" he demanded, in no mood for mischief.

A form appeared, vaguely human. "I am D. Metria."

"A demon!" he exclaimed. "You're no winged monster! You don't belong here."

"Yes I am," the figure said, sprouting wings and breasts. "Yes I do. I have come to impart olds that will interest you and cause you much perplexity."

"Impart what?"

"History, information, bulletin, communication, ancient or recent intelligence—"

"News?"

"Whatever." She flapped her wings in annoyance. "About your foal. But if you aren't interested—" She began slowly fading.

"I am interested," Cheiron said quickly.

"Well, you didn't act interested." She faded further.

Cheiron suspected that she was teasing him. He did not appreciate it. "Either impart your news or fade out entirely," he snapped, turning away.

"What will you give me for it?"

"Nothing, because I do not trust demons." He walked on ignoring her.

This evidently unsettled her. "Do you have a creature who can verify truth? Let me talk to that one."

"The zombie owl can do that," he said shortly. "Over there." He pointed to the perch where the decrepit bird slept by day.

The demoness flew to the owl. "Listen, you rotter," she said, "tell the centaur whether I speak truth. The Prince's Betrothees made a deal with Godiva Goblin of Goblin Mountain to work together to save the foal from the Golden Horde and then decide where he should go, because neither side wanted the foal dead. They saved the foal with the help of the foreign elf girl, and then played a game of godo to decide. Godiva won, so they had to help her take the foal to Goblin Mountain."

The owl opened one big rancid eye. "Trhoo," it squawked.

So it was true! This complicated things further. If a deal had been made to save Che, he could not in honor abrogate it. Goblin Mountain was bad, but not nearly as bad as the Golden Horde. "Why north? That's not the way to Goblin Mountain either."