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pavilion where a young stallion of about Sean's age stood.  “I found these Mundanes near the shore,” Cedric said.  “They call themselves the Baldwin family, and seem to be stranded here.  There may be a rift in the Gate.  Take care of the matter, Carleton.” He turned and trotted back the way they had come.
    Carleton stepped forward.  “Welcome to Centaur Isle,” he said.  “Unfortunately you can't remain here, unless you care to become servants.  As Mundanes, you have no magic, which is good; nevertheless I suspect you will be better off on mainland Xanth, among your own kind.”
    Dad finally got hold of himself.  “Just exactly what kind of a place is this?”
    Carleton paused, briefly considering.  “You have no prior knowledge of Xanth?”
    “Unless you are referring to a yellow nitrogenous compound, xanthine—” Dad paused at the centaur's blank look.  “Evidently not.  Then we know nothing of this.”
    “Then perhaps we should exchange information,”
    Carleton said.  “Would you like a meal while we converse?”
    “Yes!” Karen said, as usual, before she thought.  They hadn't had breakfast yet, and she was hungry.
    Carleton lifted one hand, and in a moment a filly centaur trotted over, her large full firm bare breasts quivering in a way that made Sean and David stare.  Karen felt a tinge of resentment, because she knew that never in her fullest future adult-maturity would she ever develop a bosom like that.  “Yes, Carleton?” she inquired.
    “Sheila,-these Mundanes are in need of fodder.”
    “Coming right up,” Sheila agreed, trotting bouncily off.
    “Fodder?” David asked.
    But soon the filly returned with big bowls of odd fresh fruit and other items.  She set them on a table under the pavilion.  “Yellows, greens, reds, and oranges,” she said, indicating the fruits.  “Pink, purple, black, and blue berries.
    A loaf of breadfruit and a butterfly.  And milkweed pods.”
    She glanced at Karen.  “Including chocolate.”
    Mom lifted the breadfruit.  It fell into several slices.  She picked up the butterfly.  Its wings detached and flew away, leaving the butter to be used.  “These will do nicely,” she said, terrifically poised.  “Thank you, Sheila.”
    The filly made a partial bow with her foresection that almost made Sean's eyeballs pop out of his head.  in fact, Karen's own almost popped, and she was a girl.  She had once sneaked a peek at an X-rated video, but these were more than those, and better formed.  Then Sheila trotted off, evidently to Mom's relief.
    Karen picked up the chocolate milkweed pod and sniffed it.  Then she bit off the end.  Sure enough, chocolate milk, and very good.  Meanwhile the boys piled into the various-colored fruits and berries.  Mom passed a slice of buttered bread to Dad, and started another for herself.
    “The Land of Xanth is magical,” Carleton said.  “There are many magical artifacts, and most human beings possess magic talents, one to each person.  Centaurs don't, of course; we regard magic in our own kind as obscene.  But sometimes it happens.  My sister Chena—” He winced.
    “But that is irrelevant.  We centaurs use magic tools on occasion, however.  Beyond Xanth is Mundania, a rather dreary region because of its lack of magic.  The normal route to Mundania is to the north and west, via the isthmus.
    That may be your route of choice, to return to your homeland.  Now, if I may inquire, what are the details of your arrival here?”
    Dad filled him in on the drive and the storm, and how they stalled out on No Name Key.  “You mentioned a gate,” he concluded.  “That must be a connection between our two realms.  The eye of the storm passed over us, and perhaps swept us into this, um, dimension.  Unless this is after all some experimental project on No Name Key.”
    “Centaur Isle is no experiment,” Carleton said firmly.
    “We constructed it centuries ago, from the scattered islets of the