The Color Of Her Panties by Piers Anthony

on a nearby bush.  “There.”
    She looked.  “But that's only a bug!”
    “That's a winged monster.  He will report to the others if anything happens, or take care of it himself.”
    “I don't believe it,” Jenny said.
    “Ixnay,” Gwenny murmured warningly.
    She was too late.  The dragonfly had taken umbrage.  It jetted into the air, leaving a trail of sparks and a contrail of vapor.  It zoomed away.
    In a moment it returned, leading a phalanx of dragonflies.  Now the sound of their wings was audible.  They swung around in formation and oriented on Jenny Elf.
    “Duck!” Che cried.  “It's a strafing run!”
    The three of them threw themselves to the ground.  Little streaks of flame passed over them and burned the nearby foliage.  The dragonflies flew on out of sight.
    They picked themselves up.  “They weren't shooting for effect,” Che said.  “If we hadn't ducked, they would have held their fire.  I think.”
    “I guess they made their point,” Jenny said.  “I'm sorry I doubted.”
    The purple dragonfly reappeared and perched on her shoulder.  “He accepts your apology,” Che said.
    Gwenny laughed.  “But you don't have to kiss him.”
    Jenny was serious.  “Still, they can't help us with the Good Magician's challenge.  It's not allowed.”
    “Maybe Sammy can find a safe way in,” Che suggested.
    Immediately the little cat bounded across the gingerbread drawbridge.
    Jenny ran after him, as she always did.
    “Wait for me, Sammy!” she cried.
    Gwenny rolled her eyes.  “You're my two best friends, but sometimes I do wonder about both of you,” she said.
    “You should know better than to suggest that Sammy find something, and she should know better than to dash madly into a strange castle.”
    “We should,” Che agreed apologetically.  “But we don't.
    “I just hope there's not a mean witch in there.”
    They hurried after Jenny, who was by this time across the drawbridge and coming to the main entrance gate of the castle.  The drawbridge surface was slightly spongy, but solid.  The gate was open, and the cat was scampering on in.
    They almost banged into Jenny, who had suddenly stopped just inside the gate.  She was staring up.
    Che looked in that direction.  There was a giant.  More correctly, a giantess:  a huge human woman.
    Sammy, no help in this crisis, had curled up for a snooze under the giant's chair.
    “Come in, children,” the woman said, her voice boomingly dulcet.
    “She doesn't I-look like a witch,” Gwenny said faintly.
    “No, I am not a witch, dear,” the woman said.  “I am the archetypal Adult.  I am here to initiate you into the Adult Conspiracy.”
    “No!” Gwenny cried, affrighted.
    “We're too young,” Che protested in what he hoped was a reasonable tone.
    “Two of you are on the verge, and one of you is of a culture that recognizes another standard,” the Adult said, gazing down at Che.
    “But I'm with those of human derivation who honor the Conspiracy,” Che said.  “So I honor it too.”
    “I have a question for each of you,” the Adult said.
    “Each will answer in turn.  If any of you fail to answer, or answer incorrectly, none of you will be admitted to the presence of the Good Magician.  Is that clear?”
    Che opened his mouth to protest that the rationale wasn't clear, but the Adult's gaze bore down on him with such severity that he was daunted.  He realized belatedly that it had been a rhetorical question:  one that allowed only the answer desired by the one who put the question.  He scuffled his front hooves.  “I guess so,” he said reluctantly.
    The gaze moved across to the girls.  Then they too fidgeted and mumbled their agreements.
    “You,” the Adult said, fixing imperiously on Gwenny.
    “Identify yourself.”
    'I-I'm Gwendolyn Goblin, from Goblin Mountain.  I'm here to-”
    “That is quite enough.  Gwendolyn, what is the Adult Conspiracy?“
    Gwenny was taken aback.  “That's my