The 'hippuses started falling over dragon tails and flipping into the pits, too. From twenty, only fourteen hunters still remained in the chase. Ooops, ouch. I winced. Make that eleven, as three of them stumbled into a net that dropped out of the trees. Glory had leaped over the tripwire as she passed, but the 'hippuses had gone right through it, setting off the trap.

A shower of love-doe powder claimed four more, as the hunters suddenly had to fend off the advances of a herd of amorous deer-elk stags who bounded out of the woods, looking for the wonderful females they smelled. The number dropped again, as two riders were suddenly thrown out of their saddle ridges and onto the ground ahead of their 'hippuses. Their mounts, unable to move, bellowed for help. The remaining five leaped over the sward of stickum turf and pounded forward after the remaining dragons. The furry, skinny-butt female shrieked as she and another rider were lifted straight out of their saddles by huge birds of prey. They would be able to fight their way free, but they were effectively out of the contest for the time being. Glory had left all these surprises for last. That's my girl, I thought with pride.

Behind Gloriannamarjolie, only three hunters remained: the Samiram, the Deveel called Alf, and Prince Bosheer. They were all looking desperate, grim, and tired. I crossed my fingers. Glory didn't have far to run. She was going to win.

The woods thickened ahead of me. Fireball protested as I led him off the main path, making him pick his way through the undergrowth. I didn't want to interrupt the exchange, but I wanted to make sure no one else interrupted it, either. The king and his litter clanked along. Navigating behind him by sound, I paid attention to the rhythmic jingling, creaking, clattering, and clop-clop-clopping. Suddenly, the noise came to a halt.

"Have you got the chest?" a female voice demanded. The representative from COW was a woman. They occupied about half the council seats. The current president was a Gnome named Helvita.

"Of course!" the king's deep voice rolled out. I pulled Fireball to a silent halt. I slid out of the saddle and tiptoed forward, trying to see the exchange. Henryarthurjon and his challenger were in a stand of woods too deep to let in much light Perfect place for a little daylight robbery, I thought. I saw the silhouette nod.

"Hand it over, then. Hurry up! We haven't got much time."

"Patience, patience, good dame," the king said. More clinking and clunking as he untied the bindings holding the chest in place on its litter. "My goodness, you're a strong little thing, aren't you? Oh, I say! Take it easy, wench!"

"Shut up," the figure hissed. "We have to make this look good. Hold still!"

"Ah, I see. Mmm. Mmmph!"

All was going according to the plan. I gave the COW representative a few minutes to finish her work and leave with the chest. A short implosion of air told me she'd used a D-hopper to depart. I shoved through the trees. King Henryarthurjon stood tied up like a bundle of sticks inside a circle of his own spears stuck point down in the ground, his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth. I loosened the gag.

"Yell," I said. "I'll get help."

"Aid! Aid to the king!" bellowed Henryarthurjon. "What ho! Aid to the king!"

"Aid for the king!" I shouted. I ran to Fireball and spurred him down the hill and into the midst of the hunt "Help the king! He's up there! He needs help!"

"The king? What happened to the king!" Everyone not directly in the running went to the rescue, including most of the disappointed hunters. I was feeling kind of smug, being in on the facts. I tipped the king a wink as we untied him and helped him back onto his stallion.

"That was a little bit of a too-convincing robbery, what ho?" he told me in an undertone. "You could have reminded your compatriot it was all a sham, eh?"

"My compatriot?" I asked. I admit my expression went blank.

"Yes, a scaly wench, a little taller than you, but otherwise could have been your sister. Do you have a sister?"

"Not in this neck of the woods," I said. I kept my face impassive, but my heart sank.

A Pervect. The image in my mind slid over one notch and clicked down. That's where I had seen a silhouette like it in my own mirror every morning. I gritted my teeth. If the COW rep from Perv was here, the least she could have done was to tip me the wink.

"Nothing to do with me, majesty," I assured him sincerely, though inwardly I was smarting with humiliation. I was still in disgrace at home for having lost my magik— not because it had happened, but because it had been in such a stupid accident. The Pervect representative probably didn't want anything to do with me. "I'm here with Massha."

"Eh?" the king asked, puzzled. "Oh. Her governess. Ah. 'Course y'are. Welcome, too. Welcome. Ah, well, let's go back to the castle. Glory ought to be getting there pretty soon. C'mon, we're all of ten minutes' ride away."

A few steps away we heard, "Mmrrph! Mllph! Lllp!"

"I say," the king exclaimed. "Do you hear something?"

But with my more acute hearing I was way ahead of him. The sounds were coming from a copse of nut bushes not far away. I swung off Fireball and pushed into the undergrowth toward the sound. I noticed that the twigs were broken off during some kind of struggle.

Behind a tree I found a mousy little Djinn in blue robes with his wire-rimmed glasses hanging from one pointed blue ear. He was bound and gagged with snare-ropes, magikal bindings that never let go unless you knew the release word. Fortunately, they're commercially available in nearly every dimension, and few people ever bother to reset the factory passwords.

"Undo," I commanded. The ropes collapsed from him like overcooked pasta.

"You!" the Djinn said, leveling a finger at me. I noticed it was shaking. It took guts for a little Djinn like that to threaten a Pervect. We had a reputation throughout the dimensions, and it was well-earned. "How dare you restrain a representative of the most august Council of Wizards ... wait a moment, you're not the one who tied me up!"

"No. It was a female, right?" I asked, helping him out of the bushes.

He adjusted his spectacles and peered up at me, wonderingly. "Yes. How did you know?"

"Ask the king," I said, hoisting him up into the now-empty litter. "His royal majesty, King Henryarthurjon of Brakespear."

"Temolo, of the Council of Wizards," the Djinn said, extending a hand, which was swallowed up by the king's huge paw. He straightened his spectacles. "Dear me, there seems to have been a terrible mistake."

The three remaining riders were in a line directly behind Glory. We five judges flew directly over them, making sure that no funny stuff would happen in the last few minutes of the race. For the first time, I saw Glory slow down slightly. In spite of her excellent condition, she was getting tired. She'd been running all day, a hard feat even for a Brakespearan.

The hunters were alone. The last three big dragons had been clotheslined by an almost invisible wire stretched from the top of one huge, ancient oak on one side of the castle to another. The trees bowed slightly as three adult dragons rammed into the wire, then sprang up taut. The dragons were flung backward, and lay in a heap wondering what had happened to them. Gleep sat down on the ground in front of him to chew mud out of his nails. Nunzio emerged from the crowd of trainers and courtiers to help groom him. His work was done.

But mine wasn't yet. Glory hadn't reached the drawbridge. She was panting with exhaustion. The 'hippuses drew closer, and closer, and closer. The Samiram reached out one long, scaly hand, almost grabbing hold of the running girl's long tail of blond hair.

Suddenly, I lost my grip on the Samiram's dragon-control device that I was holding. It fell out of my hands and landed on his head. He bellowed a curse. The 'hippus between his knees, sensing a change, slowed a little. The Samiram looked up at me, his tongue flicking furiously.