The Source of Magic (32 page)

“So they might as well relax,” Bink said.

“To continue: because of the inverse ratio, the enemy was not able to harm you on the surface, though he tried with demonic persistence and cunning. (I distinguish between the terms ‘demonic’ and ‘demoniac’; the latter has a pejorative connotation that is unwarranted.) Which is why I am convinced it is in fact a demon you face. But here in the nether region, the enemy can and will bring to bear overwhelming magic. Therefore it is foolish to pursue your quest further.”

“I’m human,” Bink said.

“Yes, unfortunately. A demon would be more rational. Since you
are
a foolish human of exactly the type my research paper describes, you will continue inevitably to your doom—for the sake of your ideals and friendships.”

“I must be more human than demon,” Jewel said. “I think he’s noble.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Bink warned her. “It only exaggerates the effect of the potion.”

She looked startled, then prettily resolute. “I’m sorry the potion had to—I mean, you’re such a nice, handsome, courageous, decent man, I—I can’t say I’m sorry it happened. When we get back maybe I
will
take a drink myself.”

“But one reason I need the Magician is to find the antidote,” Bink pointed out. “Apart from my friendship for him, I mean. In fact, we should have asked Crombie to point out the locale of the antidote, so—”

“I could summon them again,” Beauregard said. “But I would not advise it.”

“Why not?” Bink asked.

“Because in the event the enemy is not yet aware of the precise location of their bottle, we do not wish to call further attention to it. We do not know what mechanisms the enemy has to observe you, now that its squiggle is gone, but we can not
afford to assume they are negligible. It would be better to rescue your friends first, then attend to your more personal business.”

“Yes, that is true,” Bink said. He turned to the nymph. “Jewel, I regret having to inconvenience you further, but my loyalty to my friends comes first. I promise, as soon as we rescue them—”

“That’s all right,” she said, seeming not at all displeased.

“She could wait here,” Chester said. “Or go about her normal business. Once we obtain the antidote, we can bring it back and—”

“No, only the diggle can take you there fast enough,” Jewel said. “And only I can guide the diggle. There’s lots of bad magic in the river channel, and very little in the solid rock. I’m coming along.”

“I hoped you would say that,” Bink said. “Of course my feeling doesn’t count, since—”

Jewel stepped up and kissed him on the mouth. “I like your honesty, too,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

Bink, momentarily stunned by the potency of this first voluntary kiss, forced his mind to focus on the mission. “Yes—we must hurry.”

“The goblins are very bad in the deeper reaches,” Beauregard said. “In recent years they have lost their savagery on the surface, but below they retain it. You have not encountered goblins like these.”

“It is not a matter of choice,” Bink said. “We have to go there.”

“Then stay on well-lighted routes, when you’re not phasing through actual rock. Like nickelpedes, they don’t like light. They will face it if they have to, but generally they avoid it.”

Bink turned to the nymph. “Is that why you’re afraid of the dark? Can you keep us in the light?”

She nodded. “Yes … yes,” she agreed to each question. Bink somehow had the impression that he could have asked somewhat more personal questions and had the same response. Or was that a flight of romantic fancy spawned by the potion?

“At least get a good night’s rest,” Beauregard urged. “We
demons don’t need sleep, as such, but you humans can get very irritable if—”

“No, we’d better move right along,” Bink said. “A few hours could make the difference.”

“So could fatigue,” Beauregard pointed out “You will need all your faculties about you, when you face the big magic.”

“Seems to me one demon’s stalling,” Chester said.

Beauregard spread his hands. “Perhaps I am, centaur. There is one thing I have not told you.”

“If you plan to tell it, tell it now,” Bink said. “Because we’re leaving now.”

“It is this,” the demon said reluctantly. “I am not at all certain that your quest is proper.”

“Not proper!” Bink exploded. “To rescue my friends?”

“To seek the source of the magic of Xanth.”

“All I want is information! You, of all demons, should understand that!”

“Too well,” Beauregard said. “Information can be the most dangerous thing there is. Consider the power of your Magician, who specializes in information. Suppose he were armed with full knowledge about the ultimate nature of magic? Where would be the limits of his power then?”

“Humfrey wouldn’t hurt Xanth,” Bink protested. “He’s a
good
Magician!”

“But once knowledge of the nature of the source of magic were known, what would stop an evil Magician from obtaining it? With the strongest magic of all, he could rule Xanth—or destroy it.”

Bink considered. He remembered how an Evil Magician
had
taken over the crown of Xanth—and had turned out not to be evil at all. But that had been a special situation. Suppose a truly evil man—or woman—obtained unconscionable power? “I see your point. I’ll think about it. Maybe I won’t go all the way to the source. But I must rescue the Magician, regardless.”

“Yes, of course,” Beauregard agreed, seeming ill at ease for a demon.

They boarded the diggle and moved out, following the direction Crombie had indicated. “I don’t know the deeper
depths so well,” Jewel said. “But there’s a whole lot of solid rock here, since we’re not following so close to the river. I’ll tell the diggle to stay within the rock until we get there, and only to come out where there is light. I think you could sleep some while we travel, while I sing the worm along.”

“You are beautiful,” Bink said gratefully. He leaned his head against her back and was lulled to sleep by her singing, amplified and sweetened by his contact with her. And the worm ground on.

B
ink woke with a start as the diggle halted. “I think we’re here,” Jewel murmured. Her voice was hoarse from hours of singing.

“You should have waked me before!” Bink said. “To take my turn singing the worm along. You’ve sung yourself out.”

“Your head was so nice on my shoulder, I couldn’t disturb you,” she rasped. “Besides, you’ll need all your strength. I can feel the magic intensifying as we move along.”

Bink felt it too: a subtle prickle on his skin like that of the magic dust. For all he knew, the rock through which they traveled might be the magic-dust rock, before it welled to the surface. But the mystery remained: what was it that imbued that rock with magic? “Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly. “You’re a sweet nymph.”

“Well—” She turned her head, making it easy to kiss. She smelled of especially fine roses: this magic, too, was enhanced by the environment. Bink leaned forward, inhaling the delicious fragrance, bringing his lips close to—

They were interrupted by the sight of the bottle. It bobbled on the glowing surface of another lake. Something was attached to it, a bit of string or tar—

“Grundy!” Bink cried.

The golem looked up. “About time you got here! Fetch in this bottle, before—”

“Is it safe to swim in this lake?” Bink asked, wary of the
glow. It might keep the goblins away, but that didn’t make it safe for people.

“No,” Jewel said. “The water is slowly poisonous to most forms of life. One drink won’t hurt much, if you get out of it soon, up at the headwaters where it is diluted by the fresh flow from the surface. But down here, where it has absorbed much more horrible magic—”

“Right. No swimming,” Bink said. “Chester, can you lasso it?”

“Out of range,” the centaur said. “If the eddy currents carry it closer to shore I can snag it readily enough.”

“Better hurry,” Grundy called. “There’s something under the lake, and it—”

“The fiends lived under a lake,” Chester said. “Do you think the enemy—?”

Bink started stripping off his clothing. “I think I’d better swim out and get that bottle right now. If the lake harms me, the Magician can give me a drop of his healing elixir. That should be more potent, too, here.”

“Don’t do that!” Jewel cried. “That lake—I don’t think you’d ever reach the bottle. Here, I’ll have the diggle phase through the water. Nothing hurts him when he’s in phase.”

At her direction, and hoarse singing, the worm slid into the water, erecting its circular flange to form a temporary tunnel through the liquid, as through rock. He moved very slowly, until Chester’s flute appeared and played a brisk, beautiful marching tune. The flute seemed larger and brighter than it had before, and its sound was louder: more magical enhancement. The diggle speeded up, expanding and contracting in time to the music. He advanced purposefully toward the bottle. “Oh, thank you, centaur,” Jewel whispered.

“Hurry! Hurry!” the golem called. “The coral is aware of the—is trying to—is—HELP! IT’S COMING UP TO GET ME!”

Then Grundy screamed horribly, as if in human pain. “I’m not real enough, yet,” he gasped after the scream had torn its way out of his system. “I’m still just a golem, just a thing, string and gum. I can be controlled. I—”

He broke off, then screamed again, then resumed more quietly. “I’m gone.”

Bink understood none of this, yet had the sinking feeling that he should somehow have tried to help the golem to fight off—what? Some encouragement, some reminder of the feelings Grundy evidently did have. Maybe the golem could have fought off his private personal horror, if—

Now the worm was almost at the bottle. Quickly Grundy wrapped his string-arms about the cork, braced his feet against the neck of the bottle, and heaved. “By the power of the brain coral, emerge!” he gasped.

The cork flew out. Smoke poured from the bottle, swirled into a whirlwind, ballooned, then coalesced into the figures of the Good Magician and the griffin. “Grundy rescued them!” Chester exclaimed as his flute faded out.

“Fly to shore!” Bink cried. “Don’t touch the water!”

Humfrey caught hold of Crombie, who spread his wings and bore them both up. For a moment they tilted unsteadily, then righted and moved smoothly forward.

Bink ran up as they landed at the shore. “We were so worried about you, afraid the enemy would get you first!”

“The enemy did,” Humfrey said, reaching for a vial as he let go of the griffin. “Turn about, Bink; desist your quest, and you will not be harmed.”

“Desist my quest!” Bink cried, amazed. “Right when I’m so close to accomplishing it? You know I won’t do that!”

“I serve a new master, but my scruples remain,” Humfrey said. There was something sinister about him now; he remained a small, gnomish man, but now there was no humor in that characterization. His gaze was more like that of a basilisk than that of a man: a cold, deadly stare. “It is necessary that you understand. The bottle was opened by the agency of the entity that lies beneath this lake, a creature of tremendous intelligence and magic and conscience, but lacking the ability to move. This is the brain coral, who has to operate through other agencies to accomplish its noble purpose.”

“The—enemy?” Bink asked, dismayed. “The
one who sent
the magic sword, and the dragon, and the squiggle—”

“And countless other obstructions, most of which your own magic foiled before they manifested. The coral can not control a conscious, intelligent, living entity; it must operate through thought suggestions that seem like the creature’s own notions. That was why the dragon chased you, and the squiggle spied on you, and why the other seemingly coincidental complications occurred. But your talent brought you through almost unscathed. The siren lured you, but the gorgon did not enchant you into stone; the midas fly was diverted to another target, the curse of the fiends missed you. Now, at the heart of the coral’s magic, you are finally balked. You must turn back, because—”

“But it can not control
you
!” Bink protested. “You are a man, an intelligent man, a Magician!”

“It assumed control of the golem, possible only because Grundy’s reality was not complete and this is the region of the coral’s greatest power. It caused the golem to open the bottle. Crombie and I are subject to the holder of the bottle. It does not matter that the bottle is now floating on the surface of the coral lake; the conjuration was done in the name of the brain coral, and it is binding.”

“But—” Bink protested, unable to continue because he could not formulate his thought.

“That was the most savage engagement of this campaign,” Humfrey continued. “The struggle for possession of the bottle. The coral managed to dislodge it from your clothing, but your magic caused the cork to work loose, and we started to emerge. That was the impact of the fiends’ curse, aiding you by what seemed like an incredible coincidence. It shook the bottle within the vortex. But the coral used a strong eddy current to jam the stopper back, trapping Grundy outside. But your magic made the magic mirror get caught halfway, shattering it, with fragments inside and out, enabling us to establish communication of a sort. Then the coral’s magic caused you to lose your fragment of glass. But your magic guided you to Beauregard, who re-established communication. You very nearly reached the bottle in time, by turning the liability of your infatuation for the nymph into an asset—your talent outmaneuvered the coral neatly there!—but here the coral’s magic is stronger than
yours, and so it got the bottle first. Barely. In effect, your two talents have canceled out. But now the coral, through the power of the bottle, controls Crombie and me. All our powers are at its service, and you have lost.”

Chester stood beside Bink. “So you have become the enemy.” he said slowly.

“Not really. Now that we have access to the coral’s perspective, we know that it is on the side of reason. Bink, your quest is dangerous, not merely for you, but for all the land of Xanth. You
must
desist, believe me!”

“I do not believe you,” Bink said grimly. “Not now. Not now that you’ve changed sides.”