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him. But Wira can’t search for him alone.”
    “She can’t? Why not?”
    “Because I am blind,” Wira said.
    Debra stared at her. “But you led me through the castle with no misstep!”
    “I am familiar with the castle. I am not familiar with the outside.”
    Now Debra saw that there was a certain blankness to the woman’s gaze. She really was blind. “I’m sorry.”
    “I am long accustomed to it,” Wira said. “But now I need help. Someone must go with me to be my eyes. Someone I can trust.”
    “You want me to—to go with you? But you don’t even know me. Anyway, I hardly know Xanth myself. I wouldn’t be much help.”
    “Do you lack the nerve simply to say no?” Wira asked.
    Debra was caught. The woman was quoting her own words back to her. She couldn’t say no. “I just don’t want to get us both eaten by a dragon. Surely there are many far more competent people to do this.”
    “Surely there are,” the Gorgon agreed. “But none of them came on this day as querents. You are the one we have. We may have a way to enable you to protect yourself from dragons.”
    Debra was trying not to feel sorry for the blind woman. She did want to help, if she could. “Okay, I’ll make that deal. I’ll help, and get my Answer later. But how can I protect myself from dragons, let alone anyone else? I’m just a poor weak young inexperienced girl with no magic. None that I want, anyway.”
    “We have a potion that will transform you into a winged centaur.”
    Debra stared at the Gorgon. “But—but they’re—bare breasted!”
    “No problem about a bra,” the Gorgon agreed.
    “But I couldn’t possibly—to show myself like that—” Then she saw Wira’s silent disappointment. She couldn’t say no. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
    “Thank you,” the Gorgon said. “I will fetch the potion.” She got up and left the room.
    “Thank you,” Wira echoed. “This gives me my chance to solve the mystery and recover Hugo.”
    “You’re welcome,” Debra said, feeling faint. What had she gotten herself into?”
    3
    CLOUDS
     
     
     
    The Gorgon brought the potion in a small vial. “Drink this, and the transformation should occur in the next few minutes.”
    Suddenly Debra was beset by doubts almost as bad as the Giggles had been. “Should occur? You’re not sure?”
    “Well, it’s an old potion. But they’re supposed to keep indefinitely.”
    “But what if it goes wrong? What will become of me?”
    “Are you saying no?”
    That got to her. Debra was beginning to regret her extemporaneous little speech. She took the vial, uncorked it, and gulped down the potion before she could change her mind.
    It tasted good, and it had a kick like boot rear, only all over her body. Something was definitely happening.
    “You took it so quickly,” the Gorgon said. “I was going to suggest that you remove your clothing first.”
    Debra was halfway distracted. “Why?”
    “Because the potion doesn’t affect clothing, just the body. And centaurs are—”
    “Larger,” Debra said, catching on. She tried to remove her shirt and skirt, but she was already changing, and they were caught tight. All she could do was let them be.
    Her belly and rear were ballooning. Knobs protruded from her hips, extending into hairy sticks that dropped down to touch the floor. Her buttocks swelled big enough to burst her panties, pushing back and back, carrying her hind legs along with them. Her chest remained much the same, but her breasts overflowed her bra, then snapped its strap and pushed victoriously forward. Now she remembered: centaurs were better endowed than humans. She had a bosom that would have made her an instant starlet in Mundania. The split shirt and torn bra hung uselessly from it. Her skirt and panties were stretched across the solid rump of a horse. And her hind hooves were jammed precariously into the remnants of her shoes.
    Indeed, she should have removed her clothing first. She just hadn’t been thinking.
    “Let