"In Nada's form, yet," she said. "I wonder what color her panties are?"

That almost got him! But he clung to the fading belief that Metria didn't actually know what color Nada's panties were, so could not duplicate them. He felt as if his eyes were yanking themselves out of his head, being so eager to look, just in case the demoness wasn't bluffing. If he lost this contest, the real Nada might be in deadly danger. That kept him firm.

There was a pause. "Very well, Dolph, you win," she said after a bit. "Stop ignoring me, and I'll tell you the truth, this one time. Demon's honor."

Was that to be trusted? He suspected that if it wasn't, then nothing about her was. He gambled. "Okay. Which is the true threat?"

"They both are. But the hole is more immediate and worse. Your Betrothees are threatened with being cooked in maybe a few hours, but if a monster comes through that hole, all Xanth will be threatened with worse."

"But a monster might not come through that hole," he argued. "Then I'd be better off going to the girls right now."

"I suspect that this is a significant trial of conscience for you, Dolph," she said. "I am always interested in observing such things, having no conscience myself. You know you should marry Electra, but probably won't; you know you should do what is good for Xanth, but probably will go seek your girls instead. With luck you might time it so that the goblins have captured them but not yet eaten them; they might be in the process of stripping them down for the pot, and you could see Nada's panties just before you rescued her."

"You're tormenting me again!" he accused her.

"You promised to react, if I told you the truth. Well, this is the truth, isn't it?"

He had to admit it was. He knew that his secret motives were unbecoming, but they were there. "So what should I do?" he asked lamely.

"You should plug the hole."

"But then if I did the right thing and married Electra, I might never get to see Nada's panties!"

"True, Prince."

"Oh, fudge!" he exclaimed, wishing he knew a fouler word. But somehow all the centaur education he had received had not added anything to his childhood vocabulary in certain respects. Some men could turn the air blue with their language, and a harpy could make a painted surface blister with a single fowl-mouthed expletive, but the best he could do was bring the trace of a smile to a lady's lips. He couldn't even get rid of a curse burr without changing to a form with scales that the burrs couldn't cling to.

"You're so cute when you struggle with right and wrong," Metria remarked. "Would it help you to do the right thing and remain here to plug the hole if I assumed Nada's likeness and donned panties?"

"Hey, yes!"

"Forget it, Prince! I'd rather see you struggle."