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think you could find your way out of a pigpen, let alone accomplish a quest, you awesomely stupid runt?”
    Hannah eyed the peeve thoughtfully. “My voice—spoken by a bird.” She looked at Goody. “This was the case with you?”
    “Yes,” Goody agreed, relieved. “That's a pet peeve. It insults everything, using your voice.”
    “Shut your face, you loathsome gob,” her voice said.
    “And what's your business with me, goblin?” the real Hannah inquired.
    “I'm supposed to deliver this bird to a good home. You're supposed to guard me.”
    She nodded. “I think I can see why. Take back your bird.” She shook her arm so that the parody had to jump off. It landed neatly on Goody's raised arm.
    “About time, you crazy man-hating schemer,” his voice said. “It's a good thing your panties don't show, because they wouldn't freak out anything.”
    “I gather you're not a typical male goblin,” she said.
    “I am the one polite male goblin,” he agreed. “I always seek non-confrontation. I apologize for inflicting the bird on you, but—”
    “I understand. It made you sound exactly like a typical male goblin.”
    “That's what you think, you typical petticoat slacker.”
    “Exactly,” Goody said. “I can appreciate why you would not want to take on this onerous duty.”
    “No, it will be a challenge, now that I know the rules.”
    “You mean you'll do it?” Goody asked, amazed.
    “The more fool you,” his voice said. “Better to stick to your kitchen.”
    “I like challenges,” Hannah said. “I like combat. This promises the best of both. You will certainly need competent protection.”
    “I certainly will,” Goody agreed.
    “Not that you can provide it, you sissy colleen,” his voice said.
    “Just for the record, I'm a feminist, not a man-hater. I believe in female rights being just as important as male rights. Do you have a problem with that?”
    “I have a problem with your whole existence,” Goody's voice said. “You're as poor an excuse for a female as this goblin is for a male.”
    “Now that's interesting,” Hannah said. “You can insult your companion too? Doesn't that rather give away the ploy? How can others blame him for insulting himself?”
    “Oops,” the parody said, its feathers turning pink.
    In the momentary silence, Goody answered for himself. “No, I believe in feminine rights. My wife—” He choked off.
    “She's assertive?”
    “No, not exactly. It was that anything she wanted, I wanted, so there was never a conflict. I wish she could have lived longer. I loved her.”
    “You're a widower?”
    “Yes.”
    “So you're looking for another woman.”
    “Never! There could only ever be one Go-Go.”
    “But you're wearing a rose.”
    “It's a grief rose.”
    Hannah considered. “May I touch it?”
    “I wouldn't recommend it. Theoretically only the woman I could love can take it. I think that means no woman.”
    “I understand. I don't want to take it, just touch it, to verify something.”
    “As you wish,” he said with resignation.
    She reached out with a finger and lightly brushed the stem of the rose. She winced. A drop of blood fell from her finger.
    “Serves you right, tender piece.”
    “I'm sorry,” Goody said.
    “Don't be. I just verified that it is indeed magic, and that there will be no foolishness about our association.”
    Then Goody realized the nature of her concern. She did not want to maintain close contact with a male who might get ideas about her. It wasn't that he would ever, or could ever, force any male attentions on her, but even the idea of such interest could be embarrassing. She was a warrior, but also a very fine figure of a human woman.
    “I'm glad we have come to this understanding,” Goody said. “Your concern was sensible.”
    “You're a bleeding idiot,” his voice said.
    Goody and Hannah laughed together. The peeve was back in style.
    “Let's get to know each other,” Hannah said. “My talent is to be deadly