Dolph landed before the thing and assumed his natural form. "What are you?" he asked. "Where are you from?"

The jaw hinges cranked open. "I'm the monster," it rasped. "I'm looking for my master, Frankenstein."

"Well, he's not here," Dolph said. "He must be on the other side of the hole. Why don't you go back and look for him?"

Without further word the thing turned and marched into the hole. This was a shimmering ragged circle just above the ground, with flickering darkness inside. From above it had looked like a line, but from the ground it looked like a tear in the scenery—which was probably what it was. The demoness had been telling the truth, maybe.

The thing disappeared beyond the hole, as if it had never existed. But Metria was right: they didn't want any more such things coming through.

"How do we plug the hole?" he asked.

"I wouldn't know."

"But you brought me here for this! What was the point, if you can't tell me what to do about it?"

"I brought you here because you're interesting in your assorted na vet s and idiocies, and it amuses me to watch you tackle things you know nothing about," she said. "I'll be as satisfied to show you the way of stork summoning, because I know you'll make fumbles and blunders never before dreamt of in your kind's philosophy, and that will be more entertaining than anything else I could think of at the moment. But you don't want to play, so this is next best. I don't much care which problem you care to tackle first."

She was baiting him again. The question was, how much was true and how much false? Was this really a hole in Xanth or just some odd natural effect she was using to confuse him?

"Maybe I should go on over to the With-a-Cookee River and help rescue Che," he said, hoping he could learn something from her response.

"Yes, that might be best," she agreed. "I understand it's getting pretty messy there, and your Betrothees are headed right into trouble."

"Nada and 'Lectra?" he asked, alarmed.

"Who else?" she said carelessly. "They went and asked the Good Magician where Che was, and he—" She broke into a chuckle.

"What's so funny about that? I think it made sense to ask him, in case the rest of us didn't find the foal."

"But he thought they were going to ask a different Question," she said, still jiggling with the mirth of it.

"What Question?" he demanded, knowing that if she responded, he wouldn't like the answer.

"How to resolve the problem of your betrothals."

He stared at her. Of course Grey would think that! Why else would the two young women come to him a week before Elec-tra's eighteenth birthday? This business with Che's foal-knapping had come up so suddenly that Grey Murphy had probably been working on something else and never heard about it. The real Good Magician, Humfrey, would not have been caught unawares like that, but Grey lacked age and experience. Also, he had Ivy pestering him all the time; that would drive anyone crazy. Dolph knew that from long experience as her brother.