"I--I'm real!" he cried. Then, seeing the Demon's gaze upon him, he remembered the question. "Yes, there is substance! It's part of being a feeling creature. You have to laugh, to cry, to experience sorrow and gratitude and--and it's the most wonderful thing--"
"Then I shall cogitate on it," the Demon said. "In a century or so, when I have worked out my revised nomenclature." He returned to Cherie. "Would one gift satisfy you, feeling filly?"
"I don't need anything," she said. "I already have Chester. Bink is the one."
"Then I grant Bink one wish."
"No, that's not it! You have to show you understand by giving him something nice that he would not have thought of himself."
"Ah, another challenge," the Demon said. He pondered. Then he reached out and lifted Cherie in one hand. Bink and Chester jumped with alarm, but it was not a hostile move. "Would this suffice?" The Demon put her to his mouth. Again Bink and Chester jumped, but the Demon was only whispering, his mouth so large that the whisper shook her whole body. Yet the words were inaudible to the others.
Cherie perked up. "Why yes, that would suffice! You do understand!" she exclaimed.
"Merely interpolation from observed gestures of his kind." The Demon set her down, then nicked another finger. A little globe appeared in air, sailing toward Bink, who caught it. It seemed to be a solid bubble. "That is your wish--the one you must choose for yourself," the Demon said. "Hold the sphere before you and utter your wish, and anything within the realm of magic will be yours."
Bink held up the globe. "I wish that the men who were restored from stone by the absence of magic, so they could return to the village of magic dust, will remain restored now that magic is back," he said. "And that the lady griffin will not turn back to gold. And that all the things killed by the loss of magic, like the brain coral--"
The Demon made a minor gesture of impatience. "As you see, the bubble did not burst. That means your wish does not qualify, for two reasons. First, it is not a selfish one; you gain nothing for yourself by it. Second, those stone and gold spells can only be restored by reapplication of their inputs; once interrupted, they are gone. None of those people have returned to stone or gold, and none of the similar spells in your land have been reinstated. Only magic life has been restored, such as that of the golem and the coral The other spells are like fire: they burn continuously once started, but once doused remain out. Do not waste my attention on such redundancy; your wish must go for a selfish purpose."
"Oh," Bink said, taken aback. "I can't think of any wish of that kind."
"It was a generous notion, though," Cherie murmured to him.
The Demon waved his hand. "You must carry the wish until it is expended. Enough; I become bored with this trivia."
And the party stood in the forest that Bink and Cherie and the colt had left It was as if the Demon had never been--except for the sphere. And Bink's friends, restored. And the reviving magic of the forest. Even Cherie seemed satisfied with that magic, now, Bink shook his head and pocketed the wish-globe. All he wanted to do now was to get home to Chameleon, and he needed no special magic for that
"I'll carry Bink, as usual," Chester said. "Cherie, you carry the Magician--" He paused. "Crombie! We forgot the loud-beaked griffin!"
Bink felt in his pocket. "No, I have him here in the bottle. I can release him now--"
"No, let him stew there a while longer," Chester decided. Evidently he had not quite forgiven the soldier for the savage fight the two had had.
"Maybe that's best," Cherie agreed. "He was in a life-and-death struggle when he was confined. He might come out fighting,"
"Let him come!" Chester said belligerently.
"I think it would be better to wait," Bink said. "Just in case."
It was dusk, but they moved on rapidly. The monsters of the night seemed to hold no terror, after their adventure. Bink knew he could use his stored wish to get them out of trouble if he had to. Or he could release Crombie and let him handle it. Most of the more dangerous wilderness entities were still recovering from the shock of the temporary loss of magic, and were not aggressive.
Chester had a problem, however. "I have paid the fee for an Answer," he reminded the Good Magician. "But I found my talent by myself. Now I could ask about Cherie's talent--"
"But I already know it," Cherie said, coloring slightly at this confession of near-obscenity. "Don't waste your Question on that!"
"You know your talent?" Chester repeated, startled. "What--"
"I'll tell you another time," she said modestly.
"But that leaves me without a wish--I mean without an Answer," he said. "I paid for it with my life, but don't know what to ask."
"No problem," Humfrey said. "I could tell you what to ask."
"You could?" Then Chester saw the trap. "But that would use it up! I mean, your telling me the Question would use up the Answer--and then I wouldn't have the Answer to my Question!"
"That does seem to present a problem," Humfrey agreed. "You might elect to pay another fee--"
"Not by the hair of your handsome tail!" Cherie cried. "No more adventures away from home!"
"Already my freedom is slipping away," Chester muttered, not really displeased.
Bink listened glumly. He was glad to be getting home, but still felt guilt about what had happened to Jewel. He had a wish--but he knew he could not simply wish Jewel out of love with him. Her love was real, not magical, and could not be abolished magically. Also, how would Chameleon react to this matter? He would have to tell her....
They galloped up to the palace as night became complete. The grounds were illuminated by shining luna moths whose fluttering green radiance gave the palace an unearthly beauty.
Queen Iris was evidently alert, for three moons rose to brighten the palace as they entered, and there was a fanfare from invisible trumpets. They were promptly ushered to the library, the King's favorite room.
Without ceremony, Bink told his story. King Trent listened without interrupting. As Bink concluded, he nodded. "I shall make arrangements to set the shield as you suggested," the King said at last. "I think we will not publicize the presence of the Demon, but we shall see that no one intrudes on him,"
"I knew you would see it that way," Bink said, relieved. "I--I had no idea there would be such a consequence to my quest. It must have been terrible here, without magic."
"Oh, I had no trouble," the King said. "I spent twenty years in Mundania, remember. I still have a number of little unmagic mannerisms about me. But Iris was verging on a nervous breakdown, and the rest of the kingdom was not much better off. Still, I believe the net effect was beneficial; citizens really appreciate their magic, now."
"I suppose so," Bink agreed. "I never realized how important magic was, until I saw Xanth without it. But here in our group we're left with distressing magical loose ends. Chester has a surplus Answer, and I have a wish I can't use, and Crombie is confined--"
"Ah, yes," the King agreed. "We'd better reconstitute him now."
Bink uncorked the bottle, releasing Crombie. The griffin coalesced. "Squawk!" he proclaimed.
"About time," Grundy translated.
King Trent looked at the griffin--and it became a man. "Well," Crombie said, patting himself to make certain of his condition. "You didn't need to leave me bottled up. I could hear what was going on, all the time." He turned to Chester. "And you, you hoof-headed hulk--I only fought you because the coral controlled me. You didn't have to be scared of me once that was settled."
Chester swelled up. "Scared of you! You featherbrained punk--"
"Anytime you want to try it again, horsetail--"
"That will suffice," the King said gently, and both shut up, albeit with imperfect grace.
King Trent smiled, returning his attention to Bink. "Sometimes you miss the obvious, Bink. Let Chester give his Answer to you."
"To me? But it's his--"
"Sure, you can have it," Chester said. "I don't need it"
"But I al
ready have a wish I can't use, and--"
"Now you use Chester's Question to ask the Good Magician what to do with your wish," the King said.
Bink turned to Humfrey. The man was snoring quietly in a comfortable chair. There was an awkward pause.
Grundy went up and jogged the Magician's ankle. "Get with it, midge."
Humfrey woke with a small start. "Give it to Crombie," the Magician said before Bink opened his mouth, and lapsed back into sleep.
"What?" Chester demanded. "The Answer I sweated for only brings a free wish to this bird?"
Bink marveled himself, but handed the wish-bubble to Crombie. "May I ask what you mean to use it for?"
Crombie fidgeted a moment, an unusual performance for him. "Uh, Bink, you remember that nymph, the one who--"
"Jewel," Bink agreed. "I dread trying to explain about her to--"
"Well, I--uh, you see, I had this fragment of the magic mirror in the bottle, and I used it to check on Sabrina, and--"
"I fear consistency was never her strong suit," the King interposed. "I don't believe you two were right for each other anyway."
"What about her?" Bink asked, perplexed.
"She was two-timing me," Crombie said, scowling. "Right when she had me on the verge--but the other guy is married, so she was going to let on the kid was mine, and--I knew I couldn't trust a woman!"
So Sabrina had deserted Crombie, as she had deserted Bink himself, before he knew Chameleon. Yet she connived to marry Crombie anyway--and it had been fated that he would have to marry her unless he married someone else first "I'm sorry," Bink said. "But I think it would be best simply to let her go. No sense wasting a wish for vengeance."
"No, that's not what I had in mind," Crombie assured him. "I wouldn't trust any woman now. But I think I could love a nymph--"
"Jewel?" Bink asked, amazed.
"I don't expect you to believe this," Crombie said seriously. "I don't really believe it myself. But a soldier has to face realities. I lost the battle before it started. There I was, lying in that cleft where you had slain me, Bink. I don't blame you for that; it was a hell of a good fight, but I was really hurting. Suddenly she came, smelling of pine needles and gardenias, bringing the healing elixir. I never saw anything so sweet in my life. She was weak and hesitant, just like a nymph. No threat to any man, least of all a soldier. No competition. The kind of female I could really get along with. And the way she stood by you--" Crombie shook his head. "That's why I went back in the bottle, after pointing out the antidote for you. I wouldn't do anything to hurt that nymph, and killing you would have torn her up. And if you got the antidote, you'd get out of love with her, which was how I wanted you. She's lovely and loyal. But since she still loves you--"
"That's hopeless," Bink said. "I'll never see her again, and even if I did--" He shrugged. "There can be nothing between us."
"Right. So if you don't mind, I'll just take this wish and wish her to drink some of that love potion--and to see me next thing. Then she'll feel about me the way you felt about her. Only I'll be available, seeing as I have to marry someone anyway."
And Crombie was a dashing soldier and a handsome man. Inevitably the love the potion started would become real. The hurt Jewel felt for what Bink had done to her, striking her down with his sword, would make the transition easier. Except--"But you like to travel about," Chester said before Bink could formulate the same objection. "She lives below, planting precious stones. That's her job; she wouldn't leave it"
"So we'll separate--and rejoin," Crombie said. "I'll be seeing her part-time, not all the time. That's the way I like it. I'm a soldier."
And that, neatly, solved Bink's problem. "What about me?" Grundy demanded. "Without birdbeak, I have no job. I'm real, now; I can't just disappear."
"There is occasional need for translation around this court," the King said, "We shall find employment for you." He glanced about "That about suffices for tonight. Quarters have been arranged for all of you, here at the palace." With that he ushered them out. Bink was last to go. "I--I'm sorry I caused all this trouble," he said. "The Good Magician tried to warn me, and so did Beauregard the demon, but I wouldn't listen. Just because I wanted to know the source of magic--"
"Have no concern, Bink," the King said with a reassuring smile. "I was aware that there was an element of risk when I sent you--but I was as curious about the source of magic as you, and I felt that it was best to have the discovery made by you, protected by your talent I knew your talent would see you through."
"But my talent was lost when the magic went, and--"
"Was it, Bink? Didn't it strike you that the Demon's return was unusually fortuitous?"
"Well, he wanted a private place to--"
"Which he could have arranged anywhere in the universe. What really brought him back? I submit that it was your talent, still looking out for your long-range interests. Your marriage was in trouble, so your magic indulged in an extraordinary convolution to set it straight."
"I--I can't believe my talent could operate to affect the origin of magic itself!" Bink protested.
"I have no such difficulty. The process is called feedback, and it can and does reflect profoundly on the origin. Life itself may be regarded as a feedback process. But even if that were not the case, your talent could have anticipated the chain of events, and established a course that would inevitably bring magic back to the Land of Xanth, much as an arrow shot into the air inevitably returns--"
"Uh, when we fought the constellations, Chester's arrows didn't--"
The King shook his head. "Forgive an inept analogy. I shall not bore you further with my Mundane perspective. I am satisfied with the result of your quest, and you should be satisfied too. I suspect that had any other person released the Demon, X(A/N)th would never have returned to our realm. At this point the matter is academic. We shall have to find another occupation for you, but there is no rush. Go home to your wife and son."
"Son?"
"Oh, did I forget to inform you? As of dusk you became the father of a Magician-class baby, my likely successor to the throne--in due course. I suggest that infant's talent is the Demon's selected gift to you, and perhaps another reason your own talent put you through this adventure."
"What talent does the baby have?" Bink asked, feeling giddy. His son--an overt Magician at birth!
"Oh, I wouldn't spoil the surprise by telling you! Go home and see for yourself!" King Trent clapped him heartily on the shoulder. "Your home life will never be dull again!"
Bink found himself on his way. Talents never repeated in the Land of Xanth, except maybe among fiends, so his son could not be a transformer like the King or a storm master like the prior King, or a magic-adapter like King Roogna who had built Castle Roogna, or an illusionist like Queen Iris. What could it be, that showed so early?
As he approached the cabin at the edge of the palace estate, and smelled the faint residual odor of cheese from the cottage, Bink's thoughts turned to Chameleon. It had been only a week since he had left her, but it seemed like a year. She would be in her normal phase now, ordinary in appearance and intelligence: his favorite. Their mutual worry about the prospects of their baby was over; the boy was not variable like her, or seemingly without talent like him. His love for her had been tested most severely, by the love potion and availability of a most desirable alternative. What a relief to have Crombie going after Jewel...though that could be another action of his talent. At any rate, now Bink knew how much he loved Chameleon. He might never have realized, had he not had this adventure. So the King was right; he--
Someone emerged from the cabin. She cast a triple shadow in the light of the three moons, and she was beautiful. He ran to meet her with an exclamation of joy, grabbed her and--discovered it was not Chameleon.
"Millie!" he exclaimed, turning her hastily loose. She had phenomenal sex appeal, but all he wanted was Chameleon. "Millie the ghost! What are you doing here?"
"Taking care of your wife," Millie said. "And y
our son. I think I'm going to like being a nursemaid again. Especially to so important a person."
"Important?" Bink asked blankly.
"He talks to things!" she blurted enthusiastically. I mean, he goo-goos at them, and they answer back. His crib sang him a lullaby, his pillow quacked like a duck, a rock warned me not to trip over it so I wouldn't drop the Magician--"
"Communication with the inanimate!" Bink breathed, seeing the significance of it. "He'll never get lost, because every rock will give him directions. He'll never be hungry, because a lake will tell him the best place to fish, or a tree--no, not a tree, that's alive--some rock will tell him where to find fruit. He'll be able to learn more news than the Good Magician Humfrey, and without consorting with demons! Though some of my best friends are demons, like Beauregard...No one will be able to betray him, because the very walls will tell him about any plots. He--"
A grim shape loomed out of the dark, dripping clods of earth, Bink gripped his sword.
"Oh, no, it's all right!" Millie cried. "That's only Jonathan!"
"That's no man--that's a zombie!" Bink protested.
"He's an old friend of mine," she said. "I knew him back when Castle Roogna was new. Now that I'm alive again, he feels responsible for my welfare."
"Oh." Bink sensed a story there--but at the moment he only wanted to see his wife and son. "Was he the zombie I met--?"
"In the garden," she agreed. "He got lost in the Queen's maze, the night of the anniversary party. Then he came to me, inside, and got pickled. It took quite a spell to undo that! Now we're looking for a spell to make him alive again, too, so we can--" She blushed delicately. Obviously the zombie had been more than a friend, in life. Millie had displayed an embarrassing interest in Bink himself, during that party, but it seemed the appearance of the zombie ended that. Another loose end Bink's talent had neatly tied up.
"When my son gets older we can have him ask about that," Bink said. "There must be some rock, somewhere, that knows where a spell to restore zombies would be."