The Source of Magic

  Chester galloped along the path, catching up to Bink. His powerful hands picked Bink up by the elbows. "Don't go, Bink! It's nonsense!"

  But Bink would not be denied. "Put me down, horserear. I have to go!" And his feet kept walking in midair.

  "I can't hear you, but I know what you're saying, and it's not worth listening to," Chester said. "Only one way to stop this before the others are lost."

  He set Bink down, then unslung his great bow. The siren was still far away, but there was no archery like that of a centaur. Chester's bowstring twanged, and the deadly shaft arced across the water toward the island and the female figure there.

  There was a scream of anguish, and the melody halted abruptly. Chester's arrow had scored. Suddenly they all were freed; the compulsion was gone. Bink's talent had prevailed at last, saving him from harm without revealing itself.

  They ran to the island. There lay the siren--the loveliest mermaid Bink had ever seen, with hair like flowing sunshine and tail like flowing water. The cruel arrow had passed entirely through her torso, between and slightly below her spectacular bare breasts, and she was bleeding from front and back. Her torso had collapsed across her dulcimer.

  Yet she was not dead. Though the arrow, with that uncanny marksmanship of the centaur, must have pierced her heart, she still breathed. In fact she was conscious. She tilted her beautiful face weakly to look up at Chester. "Why did you shoot me, handsome male?" she whispered.

  "He can't hear you; he's deaf," Bink said.

  "I meant no harm--only love," she continued. "Love to all men, you--why should you oppose that?"

  "What joy is there in death?" Bink demanded. "We have brought to you what you have brought to a hundred other men." He spoke gruffly, yet his heart ached to see the agony of this lovely creature. He remembered when Chameleon had been similarly wounded.

  "I brought no death!" she protested as vehemently as she was able, and gasped as the effort pushed a gout of blood from her chest. Her whole body below the shoulders was soaked in bright blood, and she was weakening visibly. "Only--only love!"

  Then at last she subsided, losing consciousness. Bink, moved despite what he knew, turned to the Magician. "Is--is it possible she speaks the truth?"

  Humfrey brought out his magic mirror. It showed the smiling baby face. "It is possible," he said, wise to the ways of the mirror. Then he addressed it directly: "Did the siren speak the truth?"

  The baby smiled again. "She meant no harm," the Magician said. "She is not the killer, though she lured men here."

  The men exchanged glances. Then Humfrey brought out his bottle of healing elixir and sprinkled a drop on the siren's terrible wound. Instantly it healed, and she was sound again.

  The Magician offered Chester a drop of elixir for his ears, but the centaur disdained it. So Humfrey sprinkled it on the centaur's rear, and suddenly it was as beautiful as ever.

  "You healed me!" the siren exclaimed, passing her hands wonderingly over her front. "There is not even blood, no pain!" Then, startled; "I must sing!" She reached for her dulcimer.

  Chester kicked it out of her reach. The musical instrument flew through the air, smashed, and plunked into the water. "There is the source of her magic!" he cried. "I have destroyed it!"

  The source of magic, destroyed. Was that an omen?

  Experimentally, the siren sang. Her upper torso expanded marvelously as she took her breath, and her voice was excellent--but now there was no compulsion in it The centaur had, indeed, deprived her of her devastating magic.

  She broke off, "You mean that was what summoned all the men? I thought they liked my singing." She looked unhappy.

  Apparently she really was the lovely innocent, like Chameleon in her beauty-phase. "What happened to all the men?" Bink asked.

  "They went across to see my sister," she said, gesturing toward the other island. She pouted. "I offer them all my love--but they always go to her."

  Curious! Who could lure victims away from the siren herself? "Who is your sister?" Bink asked. "I mean, what is her magic? Is she another siren?"

  "Oh, no! She is a gorgon, very pretty."

  "A gorgon!" Bink exclaimed. "But that is death!"

  "No, she would not harm anyone, no more than I would," the siren protested. "She cherishes men. I only wish she would send some back to me."

  "Don't you know what the gaze of a gorgon does?" Bink demanded. "What happens to someone who looks upon the face of--?"

  "I have looked into my sister's face many times! There is no harm in her!"

  Humfrey lifted his mirror again. "It affects men only?" he asked, and the smiling baby agreed.

  It seemed the siren really did not know the devastating effect her sister's face had on men. So for years she had innocently lured in males--for the gorgon to turn to stone.

  "We shall have to talk with your sister," Humfrey said.

  "The path continues to her island," the siren informed him. "What will I do, without my dulcimer?"

  "Your voice is pretty enough without any accompaniment, and so are you," Bink said diplomatically. It was true as far as it went; had she a lower portion to match her upper portion, it would have been true all the way. "You can sing acapella, without accompaniment."

  "I can?" she inquired, brightening. "Will it bring nice men like you?"

  "No. But perhaps a nice man will find you, regardless." Bink turned to the Magician. "How can we approach the gorgon? One glance--"

  "We shall have to deal with her in the morning," Humfrey decided. Bink had lost track of time. The stars had been emerging at the village, then they had charged into the night of the jungle to battle the tangle tree, thence to this island--where it seemed dusk was only now falling. Did that make sense? Bink had somehow assumed that the sun set all over Xanth at the same instant, but realized that this was not necessarily so. But he had other things to worry about at the moment, and listened to the rest of Humfrey's speech: "Siren, if you have food and bed--"

  "I'm not really that kind of female," she demurred.

  Bink looked at her sleek fishtail. "Obviously not. We only want a place to sleep."

  "Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Actually, I could become that kind, if--" She shimmered, and her tail transposed into two fetching legs.

  "Just sleep," Chester said. It seemed his hearing was returning naturally. "And food."

  But her indignation had not yet run its course. "After you impaled me with your old messy arrow, and broke my dulcimer?"

  "I'm sorry," Chester said shortly. "I have a headache."

  As well he might, Bink thought. Why hadn't the ornery creature accepted a drop of elixir for his head as well as for his tail?

  "If you were really sorry, you'd show it," she said. Crombie squawked. "She's setting her hooks into you already, ass," the golem said.

  Doubly annoyed, Chester glowered at the siren. "How?"

  "By giving me a ride on your back."

  Bink almost laughed. Nymphs of any type loved to ride!

  "Ride, then," Chester said, disconcerted. She walked to his side, but was unable to mount "You're too tall," she complained.

  Chester turned his front portion, wrapped one arm about her slender waist, and hauled her up easily. "Eeek!" she screamed, delighted, as her feet swished through the air. "You're so strong!"

  Crombie squawked again, and his remark needed no interpretation. She was, indeed, working her wiles on the centaur, needing no siren song.

  Chester, not in the best of moods after his encounter with the pineapple, was visibly mollified. "All centaurs are strong." He set her neatly on his back, and walked forward.

  The siren grabbed two handfuls of his mane. "My, your shoulders are so broad! And what sleek fur you have. You must be the handsomest centaur of all!"

  "From the rear, maybe," he agreed. He began to trot.

  "Oooh, that's fun!" she cried, letting go just long enough to clap her hands together girlishly. "You must be the smartest centaur, and the fastest--" She paused.
"Could you, maybe, make a little jump?"

  Chester, now quite puffed up by her praise, made a tremendous leap. The siren screamed and flew off his back. They were at the edge of the water, since this was a small island, and she plunked into the lake. "Uh, sorry," Chester said, mortified. "Guess I overdid it." He reached down to fish her out.

  Fish her out he did: her legs had changed back into a tail. "No harm done," the mermaid said. "I am quite at home in the water." And she wriggled within his grasp, bringing her face to his and planting a wet kiss on him.

  Crombie squawked. "There's no fool like a horse-reared fool," the golem said.

  "That's for sure," Chester agreed, now in a good mood. "Just don't tell Cherie."

  "Cherie?" the siren asked, frowning.

  "My filly. The prettiest thing in Xanth. She's back home, tending our foal. His name is Chet."

  She assimilated that. "How nice," she said, disgruntled. "I'd better see to your fodder now, and stall space."

  Bink smiled privately. Chester wasn't such a fool after all!

  They had a modest repast of fish and sea cucumber, and bedded down in a pile of soft dry sponges. Bink stretched out his feet--and banged into another pile of dirt. This time he was too tired to stomp it flat, so he ignored it.

  The siren, having given up on the centaur, nestled down in the dark beside Bink. "Say," he said, remembering. "We have to give service for hospitality!"

  Crombie squawked. "You give service, noodle-brain," Grundy said. "You're closest to her."

  "Service?" the siren inquired, nudging him.

  Bink found himself blushing furiously in the dark. Damn Crombie's innuendo! "Uh, nothing," he said, and pretended to fall suddenly asleep. Very soon it was no pretense.

  In the morning they bade farewell to the siren after taking the time to break up some wood for her cooking fire--a service she appreciated, as she was not much for that sort of thing. They set about braving her sister. "The rest of you must be blindfolded," Humfrey decided. "I will use the mirror."

  So he could view the gorgon indirectly, of course. That was the only way to look at such creatures; everyone knew that. Yet why did a mirror work? The image in the glass should be as horrendous as the original.

  "Polarization," the Magician explained without being asked. "The magic of partial images."

  That didn't clarify things much. But a more important question remained. "What do we do, to stop the--" Bink did not want to use the word "kill" in the presence of the innocent siren. Getting close to the gorgon was one thing; dispatching her while blindfolded was another.

  "We shall see," Humfrey said. They submitted to blindfolding, including the golem. Then they formed a chain to follow the Good Magician, who walked backward on the path between the islands, using the mirror to see ahead. In this case he was not utilizing its magic, but merely the ordinary reflection: the natural magic all mirrors possessed.

  It was strange and uncomfortable, crossing the water sightlessly. How awful it would be, to lose forever the power of seeing! What magic was better than the natural senses of life?

  Bink's feet felt hard land. "You stand here, facing out," Humfrey told them. "Just in case. I will deal with the gorgon."

  Still nervous, Bink obeyed. He felt tempted to rip off the blindfold, turn about, and look at the gorgon--but not strongly tempted. Once he had stood atop a tall mountain and suffered an urge to throw himself off it, similarly; it was as if there were a death urge in him along with the life urge. Perhaps the urge to adventure was drawn from the same wellspring. "Gorgon," Humfrey said.

  Right behind Bink, she answered. "I am she. Welcome to my isle." Her voice was dulcet; she sounded even more attractive than her sister. "Why do you not look at me?"

  "Your glance would turn me into stone," Humfrey said bluntly.

  "Am I not beautiful? Who else has locks as serpentine as mine?" she asked plaintively, and Bink heard the faint hissing of the snakes. He wondered what it would be like to kiss the gorgon, with those snake-hairs twining around their two faces. The notion was both alarming and tempting. Yet what was the gorgon except the literal personification of the promise and threat embodied in every woman?

  "You are beautiful," Humfrey agreed gravely. She must be beautiful indeed, Bink thought, for the Good Magician did not waste compliments. Oh, for a single look! "Where are the other men who came to you?"

  "They went away," she said sadly.

  "Where did they go?"

  "There," she said, and Bink assumed she was pointing. "Beyond those rocks."

  Humfrey moved over to investigate. 'These are statues," he said, unsurprised. "Statues of men, exquisitely realistic. Carved, as it were, from life."

  "Yes," she agreed brightly. "They look just like the men who came to me."

  "Does that not suggest anything to you?"

  "The men left the gifts behind, pictures of themselves, sculptures. But I would rather have had the men stay with me. I have no use for stones."

  She didn't realize what she had done! She thought these were mere images offered as remembrances. Maybe she refused to realize the truth, blocking it out from her consciousness, pretending she was an ordinary girl. She refused to believe in her own magic. What a fateful delusion!

  Yet, Bink thought, wasn't this too typical of the thought processes of females? What one among them chose to recognize the mischief her sex worked among men!

  But that was Crombie's contention, therefore probably an exaggeration. There might be a little siren and a little gorgon in every girl, but not a lot. There was hardly any in Chameleon.

  "If more men come," Humfrey continued with unusual gentleness, "they will only leave more statues. This is not good."

  "Yes, there are already too many statues," she agreed naively. "My island is getting crowded."

  "The men must not come any more," Humfrey said. "They must stay at their homes, with their families."

  "Couldn't just one man come--and stay a while?" she asked plaintively.

  "I'm afraid not. Men just aren't, er, right for you."

  "But I have so much love to give--if only a man would stay! Even a little one. I would cherish him forever and ever, and make him so happy--"

  Bink, listening, was beginning to appreciate the depth of the gorgon's tragedy. All she wanted was to love and be loved, and instead she sowed a harvest of horrible mischief. How many families had been destroyed by her magic? What could be done with her--except execution?

  "You must go into exile," Humfrey said. "The magic shield has been lowered by order of the King; you can pass freely out of Xanth. In Mundania your magic will dissipate, and you will be able to interact freely with the man or men of your choice."

  "Leave Xanth?" she cried, alarmed. "Oh, no, I would rather die! I can not leave my home!"

  Bink experienced a pang of sympathy. Once he himself had faced exile....

  "But in Mundania you would be an ordinary girl, under no curse. You are extremely lovely, and your personality is sweet. You could have your pick of men there."

  "I love men," she said slowly. "But I love my home more. I can not depart. If this is my only choice, I beg of you to slay me now and end my misery."

  For once the Good Magician seemed shaken. "Slay you? I would not do that! You are the most attractive creature I have ever seen, even through a mirror! In my youth I would have--"

  Now a little ordinary feminine artifice manifested. "Why, you are not old, sir. You are a handsome man."

  Crombie stifled a squawk, Chester coughed, and Bink choked. She had made a gross exaggeration, if not an outright distortion! Humfrey was a good man, and a talented one, but hardly a handsome one. "You flatter me," the Magician said seriously. "But I have other business."

  "Of all the men who have come here, you alone have stayed to talk with me," the gorgon continued. "I am so lonely! I beg of you, stay with me, and let me serve you always."

  Now Crombie squawked aloud. "Don't turn about, fool!" the golem cried. "Keep using the mir
ror!"

  "Um, yes," Humfrey agreed. The griffin's hearing must be acute, Bink thought, to detect the sound of the Magician's incipient turning! "Gorgon, if I were to look at you directly--"

  "You would feel obliged to go away, leaving only a stone memento in your likeness," she finished. "I do not understand why men are like this! But come, close your eyes if you must, kiss me, let me show you how much love I have for you. Your least word is my command, if you will only stay!"

  The Magician sighed. Was the old gnome tempted? It occurred to Bink that it might not have been disinterest in women that kept Humfrey single, but lack of a suitable partner. The average woman was not interested in a wizened, dwarfish old man--or if she expressed interest, it was likely to be only because she wanted a piece of his formidable magic. Here was a woman who knew nothing of him but his appearance, and was eager to love him, asking only his presence.

  "My dear, I think not," Humfrey said at last "Such a course would have its rewards--I hardly deny it!--and I would normally be inclined to dally with you a day or three, though love be blindfolded. But it would require the resources of a Magician to associate safely with you, and I am on a quest that takes precedence, and may not--"

  "Then dally a day or three!" she exclaimed. "Be blindfolded! I know no Magician would have interest in me, but even a Magician could not be more wonderful than you, sir!"

  Did she suspect the magnitude of Humfrey's talent? Did it matter? The Magician sighed again. "Perhaps, after my present quest is over, if you would care to visit at my castle--"

  "Yes, yes!" she cried. "Where is your castle?"

  "Just ask for Humfrey. Someone will direct you. Even so, you can not show your face to man. You would have to wear a veil--no, even that would not suffice, for it is your eyes that--"

  "Do not cover my eyes! I must see!"

  Bink felt another surge of sympathy, for at the moment he could not see.