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could stop them, if they came down singly.
    But about five of them folded their wings partway and dived at him together. Their beaks looked very sturdy and sharp.
    "No!" he cried as they converged.
    It was almost too late for them to change course. Two birds plummeted into the water. Two more swooped just overhead, striving desperately to rise. The fifth did a crazy wiggle in air, using its wings to brake,
    and barely managed to reverse course before colliding with Chex's shoulder.
    The wake in deeper water was coming toward them again. Esk tucked the staff under one arm and grabbed new holds on the mane. "Resume speed!" he said.
    Chex resumed, flapping her wings to assist her progress. They made it around the rest of the lake without further event, rejoining the path.
    Esk slid down. "I think we make a fair team," he said. "You have the go, and I have the stop."
    "That's a nice way to put it," she agreed. "I was terrified!"
    "Well, you're a filly; you're supposed to be frightened of violence."
    "And you aren't?"
    "Yes, I'm not supposed to be." He smiled. "Just don't ask me how it really is."
    "No questions," she agreed.
    The more he got to know her, the better he liked her. Despite their differences of culture, she tended to understand the fundamentals well enough.
    They walked again. Soon they encountered a mountain. The path went through it, forming a dark tunnel around itself.
    They paused. "It's supposed to be safe," Esk said. "But after the dragons and the lake, I'm nervous."
    "Suppose we went in—and it wasn't safe?"
    "Let's not go in."
    "I like your thinking."
    "But how do we get around it? I see tangle trees on the slopes."
    "And dozens more of those birds roosting on the upper slopes," she said. "You know, I am quite sure there was no such mountain or tunnel on the map my dam showed me."
    "Your damn what?" he asked, disgruntled by her language.
    "My dam. My—you would call it mother."
    "I wouldn't call my mother a damn anything!"
    She laughed. "I suspect we have a barrier of communication. I mean that my mother's map did not have this particular feature of geography on it, so this must be the wrong path."
    "Oh. Yes. Then we shouldn't have to try to pass this damn—this mother of a mountain."
    She looked at him somewhat curiously. Evidently the barrier was still in operation. But they were agreed. They would turn back and try the north fork. He did not relish the return trip around the lake, but at least that was a known hazard.
    Chapter 3. Volney
    1 he lake wasn't fun, but this time they were prepared, and they made it around without damage. They celebrated by pausing for lunch and drink. Chex had a cup she produced from her pack, with which she dipped water from the fringe of the lake and drank delicately. Then they traveled at a more leisurely pace north. In due course they reached the intersection, and this time proceeded along the north extension.
    Yet another little dragon appeared. "I'm fed up with this!" Esk exclaimed. He charged forward, wielding his staff, feeling his ogre strength manifesting unbidden. He struck the dragon on the head, then rammed the staff under its body, picked it up, and heaved it into the forest. The dragon was not actually hurt, but was so surprised that it scuttled for cover elsewhere.
    Chex was amazed. "That dragon weighed as much as you!" she exclaimed. "Yet you tossed it like a toy!"
    "I told you, I'm quarter ogre," he said, relaxing. "Every so often something triggers it, and I do something ogreish."
    "Evidently so," she agreed. "I can't say I was ever partial to ogres, but I must confess it was a pleasure watching that dragon fly!"
    "It would be more of a pleasure if I could summon that power at will," he said. "But it's involuntary, like a sneeze, and it doesn't last long. My father is much more of an ogre than I am, and my grandfather Crunch—"
    "I'm happy with you," she said quickly. "After all, an ogre's intellect is inversely proportional to his strength."
    "And his