Piers Anthony - Source of Magic

The Source of Magic

Xanth Book 2

By Piers Anthony

Themagic-sniffer ambled toward Bink, its long limber snout snufflingindustriously. When the creature reached him it went into a frenzy ofenthusiasm, snorting out flutelike notes, wagging its bushy tail, andprancing in a circle.

"Sure,I like you too, Sniffer!" Bink said, squatting to embrace it.The creature's snout kissed his nose wetly. "You were one of thefirst to believe in my magic, when--"

Binkpaused, for the creature was acting strangely. It had stoppedfrisking and become subdued, almost frightened. "What's thematter, little friend?" Bink asked, concerned. "Did I saysomething to hurt your feelings? I apologize!" But the sniffercurled its tail between its legs and slunk away. Bink stared afterit, chagrined. It was almost as if the magic had been turned off,causing the thing to lose its function. But Bink's talent, like allothers, was inherent; it could not dissipate while he lived.Something else must have frightened the sniffer.

Binklooked about, feeling uneasy. To the east was the Castle Roognaorchard, whose trees bore all manner of exotic fruit, vegetables, andsundry artifacts like cherry bombs and doorknobs. To the south wasthe untamed wilderness of Xanth. Bink remembered how that jungle hadherded him and his companions in here, seeming so menacing, way backwhen. Today the trees were basically friendly; they had only wanted aMagician to stay and make Castle Roogna great again. King Trent haddone that. Now the considerable power of this region exerted itselffor the benefit of the kingdom. Everything seemed to be in order.

Well,on with his business. There was to be a ball tonight, and his shoeswere badly worn. He proceeded to the edge of the orchard where astray shoe-tree had rooted. Shoes liked to move about, and oftenplanted themselves in out-of-the-way places.

Thisone had several ripe shoes. Bink inspected individual ones withoutplucking them, until he was sure he had found a pair that fit him.Then he twisted them off, shook out the seeds, and put them carefullyon his feet. They were quite comfortable, and looked nice becausethey were fresh.

Hestarted back, walking with exaggerated motion to break in the shoeswithout scuffing them, his mind still nagged by the episode with themagic-sniffer. Was it an omen? Omens always came true, here in theLand of Xanth, but it was seldom possible to understand them properlyuntil too late. Was something bad going to happen to him? That reallyseemed unlikely; Bink knew it was no exaggeration to assume thatserious evil would have to fall on all Xanth before Bink himself washarmed. So it must be a misreading. The magic-sniffer had merelysuffered a fit of indigestion, and had to scoot off.

SoonBink was within sight of his home. It was a fine cottage cheese justoff the palace grounds, which he had moved into when he married. Therind had long since hardened and lost the better part of its flavor,and the walls were fine-grained creamy-yellow petrified cheese. Itwas one of the most tasteful cottages in existence, but since hehadn't hollowed it out himself he didn't see fit to brag about it.

Binktook a deep breath, nerved himself, and opened the front rind-door. Asweetish waft of seasoned cheese blew out, together with a raucousscreech.

"Thatyou, Bink? About time! Where did you sneak off to, right when there'swork to be done! You have no consideration at all, do you!"

"Ineeded shoes," he said shortly.

"Shoes!"she exclaimed incredulously. "You have shoes, idiot!"

Hiswife was much smarter than he, at the moment, Chameleon'sintelligence varied with the time of month, as did her appearance.When she was beautiful, she was stupid--in the extreme, for both.When she was smart, she was ugly. Very smart and very ugly. At themoment she was at the height of the latter phase. This was one reasonshe was keeping herself secluded, virtually locked in her room.

"Ineed good-looking ones, tonight," he said, mustering patience.But even as the words were out he realized he had phrased it badly;any reference to good looks set her off. "The hell you do,dunce!"

Hewished she wouldn't keep rubbing in his inferior Intelligence.Ordinarily she was smart enough not to do that. Bink knew he was nogenius, but he wasn't Subnormal either; she was the one who was both."I have to attend the Anniversary Ball," he explained,though of course she already knew that. "It would be an insultto the Queen if I attended sloppily dressed."

"Dolt!"she screamed from her hideaway. "You're attending in costume! Noone will see your stinking shoes!"

Oops,that was right. He had made his trip for nothing.

"Butthat's all too typical of your selfishness," she continued withrighteous ire. "Bugging off to the party to have a good timewhile I suffer home alone, chewing on the walls." That wasliteral; the cheese was old and hard, but she gnawed on it when shegot angry, and she was angry most of the time now.

Still,he tried to be positive. He had only been married a year, and heloved Chameleon. He had known at the outset that there would be goodtimes and bad times, and this was a bad time. A very bad time. "Whydon't you come to the ball too, dear?"

Sheexploded with cynical wrath. "Me? When I'm looking like this?Spare me your feebleminded sarcasm!"

"Butas you reminded me, it's a costume party. The Queen is cloaking everyattendee in a disguise of her choosing. So no one will see--"

"Youutter moronic nincompoop!" she bawled, and he had heardsomething crash.

Nowshe was throwing things, in a genuine temper tantrum. "How can Igo to a party in any guise--when I'm nine months pregnant?"

Andthat was what was really bothering her. Not her normal smart-uglyphase, that she had lived with all her life, but the enormousdiscomfort and restriction of her pregnancy. Bink had precipitatedthat condition during her lovely-stupid phase, only to learn when shegot smarter that she had not wanted such a commitment at this time.She feared her baby would be like her--or like him. She had wanted tofind some spell to ensure that the child would be positivelytalented, or at least normal, and now it was up to blind chance. Shehad accepted the situation with extremely poor grace, and had notforgiven him. The smarter she got, and the more pregnant she got, themore intense her ire became.

Well,soon she would be over the hump, and getting prettier--just in timefor the baby. It was due in a week or so. Maybe the baby would benormal, perhaps even strongly talented, and Chameleon's fears wouldbe laid to rest. Then she would stop taking it out on him.

If,however, the baby were abnormal...but best not even think of that."Sorry, I forgot," he mumbled.

"Youforgot!" The irony in her tone cut through his sensitivitieslike a magic sword through the cheese of the cottage. "Imbecile!You'd like to forget, wouldn't you! Why didn't you think of that lastyear when you--"

"Ihave to go, Chameleon," he muttered, hastily retreating out thedoor. "The Queen gets upset when people are tardy." In factit seemed to be the nature of women to get upset at men, and to throwtantrums. That was one of the things that distinguished them fromnymphs, who looked like women but were always amenable to the idlewhims of men. He supposed he should count himself lucky that his wifedid not have a dangerous talent, like setting fire to people orgenerating thunderstorms.

"Whydoes the Queen have to throw her ridiculous pointless dull partynow?" Chameleon demanded. "Right when she knows I can'tattend?"

Ah,the logic of women! Why bother to try to understand it. All theintelligence in the Land of Xanth Could not make sense of thesenseless, Bink closed the door behind him.

Actually,Chameleon's question had been rhetorical. They both knew the answer.Queen Iris took every Opportunity to flaunt her status, and this wasthe first anniversary of that status. Theoretically the ball was tohonor of the King, but actually King Trent cared little for theatricsand would probably skip the festivities. The party was really for theQueen--and though she could not compel the King to attend, woe betidethe lesser functionary who played hooky tonight! Bink was such afunctionary. And why was this so, he asked himself as he trod glumlyon. He was supposed to be an important person, title Royal Researcherof Xanth, whose duty it was to probe the mysteries of magic andreport directly to the King. But with Chameleon's pregnancy, and thenecessary organization of his homestead, Bink had not gotten aroundto any real research. For that he had only himself to blame, really.He should indeed have considered the consequence of impregnating hiswife. At the time, fatherhood had been the last thing on his mind.But Chameleon-lovely was a figure to cloud man's mind and excitehis--never mind!