"You should not have said that," Godiva murmured. "A centaur speaks only the literal truth. You have hurt his feelings."

Jenny was appalled. "Oh, Che, I'm sorry," she cried, dropping the brush. "I didn't mean to—I misunderstood! Please forgive me!"

"Of course," he said, brightening. "I should have realized. I apologize."

She decided not to argue with that. She just hugged him. Then she turned to Godiva. "I am ready to go with you."

She glanced down at Sammy, who had not moved since entering the chamber. "Sammy will keep you company, Che, while I am gone. He won't move or speak, but he can understand you, and if you lose something, he can find it."

"I think I have lost my confidence," Che said with a weak smile.

Godiva rapped on the door again, and it was unbarred. It opened, and they stepped out into the hall. The goblins barred it again behind them.

Godiva led the way along the passage. Soon she came to another chamber. She opened the door and ushered Jenny in.

This chamber was quite different from the last. It had rugs on the floor and carpets on the walls and a painting of the sky on the ceiling. It had soft-looking chairs. It was the kind of chamber that could make a person forget all her problems.

"This will be yours to share with Che, if you wish," Godiva said. "If you get him to consider my proposal."

Jenny had heard the demoness Metria struggle to find a word. She felt like that now. There was surely a word that covered this situation, but she didn't know it. The gobliness was offering her something nice to do what she probably should not do. But she had agreed to listen. "I will listen and not tell anyone else except Che, if I decide to," she said. "That is all I promise."

"That is enough. I want Che to be companion and steed for my daughter, Gwendolyn. I knew he is not yet of age to be a steed, for his bones are not yet grown, but he can be her companion until they both are of age. That will be some years. How old are you, Jenny Elf?"

Jenny saw no reason not to answer. She showed three hands of four fingers each.

"Twelve, by our reckoning. That is Gwendolyn's age. It is perhaps a fortunate coincidence that you match her so closely. She is a child, like you, but will not remain so much longer. She is my only offspring, and the first heir to the chiefship. It has not before passed to a woman, but this time it shall, for Gwendolyn will have the magic wand."

Jenny appreciated the difference that made. She had seen that wand in action. "But why should she need a steed, when she has that?"