Yon Ill Wind by Piers Anthony

over his shoulder.
    “Are you the cab?” Chlorine inquired, admiring his muscles.
    “I'm no cad,” the man protested.  “I'm just a passing lumberjack.” He glanced at the jug.  “But you'd be best off, miss, to ease off on that applejack before your head spins off.”
    Chlorine put her hands up to stop her head from completing another revolution.  It did make her feel less dizzy.
    “Thank you.”
    “You're welcome, lovely lass.” The man ambled on.
    Chlorine flushed with pleasure at his compliment.  Then she remembered that she really was lovely, now, so the compliment was well deserved.  Still, it was a pleasure she was not well accustomed to, so she knew she would continue to enjoy it.
    In due course a cloud of dust zoomed up and abruptly stopped.  On its side was printed SPEED DEMON CAB.  A door opened in its side.
    Chlorine didn't quite trust this.  She looked at Nimby.
    Nimby got up and climbed into the cab.  So she followed.
    It had a plush seat in the back, wide enough for the two of them.
    The door slammed closed.  The cab leaped into motion with a loud squeal.  Suddenly they were zooming at frightening speed along the path; the tree trunks were passing at a blurring rate.  “Are you sure—?” Chlorine asked Nimby.
    Nimby nodded yes.  So she relaxed.  There was another seat ahead of them, and beyond that a transparent pane, and beyond that the onrushing forest.  They were going somewhere very fast.
    She saw a sign in the front.  It said “YOUR DRIVER:  Demon Strator.  Unsafe, unreliable, discourteous.”
    For some reason, that caused her to be worried again.
    “Nimby, that sign—”
    Then a creature appeared on the front seat.  It had horns, so did seem to be a demon.  “That's just to scare away low tippers,” Strator said.  “You paid plenty of jack in advance, so you have nothing much to fear.  Unless I lose control.” The cab swerved perilously close to a tree.
    “Oh.” Chlorine pondered.  “What is a tip?”
    “From you, I will accept a kiss, you luscious creature.”
    She glanced again at Nimby, who nodded, so she leaned forward and kissed the demon on his right ear.
    The cab zoomed into the air, looped, and landed again at speed.  “Hoo!” Strator said.  “That's one potent kiss!”
    “Thank you,” she said, blushing.  It was fun, because she had seldom had cause to blush before.
    The cab zoomed on until it came to a squealing halt at the very brink of an awesomely deep crevasse.  “Transfer,” Strator announced.  “The Gap Chasm is beyond my range.”
    “Thank you,” Chlorine said, climbing out of the cab.
    “I think you're a nice speed demon.”
    This time it was the demon who blushed.  He turned a rich royal purple, and steam rose from him.  “Gotta go now,” he muttered, and the cab spun about and zoomed back northeast.
    It was now dusk, so the speedy ride had taken at least some time.  A large dark shape swooped out of the deep shadow of the Gap and landed before them.  It seemed to be a bird almost as big as a roc, completely black.  It clutched a small basket in its talons, and on the basket was a tag:  FLY BY NIGHT.
    Chlorine nodded.  That surely meant that this bird flew only by night, so their timing was right.
    Nimby climbed into the basket, which turned out to be much larger than it had first appeared; the bird's size had dwarfed it.  Chlorine joined him.  Then the bird spread its wings and hopped over the brink, into the chasm.
    Chlorine's gizzard surged up to her throat as the basket dropped, not realizing that the rest of her was falling.  Then the wings caught the dark air, and things settled into place.
    They sailed not across, but along inside the chasm, remaining in its pooled darkness while the last of daylight touched its rims and the clouds floating above it.  Chlorine peered down, hoping to catch a glimpse of the notorious Gap Dragon, but all she saw was palpable blackness.  Since she didn't feel like palpating