anyway. And if she could make ordinary potatoes taste like a banquet, and medicine taste like candy-oh yes, it was a marketable talent!
Iris returned, bearing a steaming platter. She had changed into a housewifely apron, and her crownlet was gone. She looked less regal and a good deal more female. She set things up on a low table, and they sat crosslegged on cushions, facing each other.
'What would you like?' she inquired.
Again Bink felt nervous. 'What are you serving?'
'Whatever you like.'
'I mean-really?'
She made a frown. 'If you must know, boiled rice. I have a hundred-pound bag of the stuff I have to use up before the rats catch on to the illusory cat I have guarding it and chew into it. I could make rat droppings taste like caviar, of course, but I'd rather not have to. But you can have anything you want-anything at all.' She took a deep breath.
So it seemed-and it occurred to Bink that she was not restricting it to food. No doubt she got pretty lonely here on her island, and welcomed company. The local farmers probably shunned her-their wives would see to that!-and monsters weren't very sociable.
'Dragon steak,' he said. 'With hot sauce.'
'The man is bold,' she murmured, lifting the silver cover. The rich aroma wafted out, and there lay two broiled dragon steaks steeped in hot sauce. She served one expertly onto Bink's plate, and the other onto her own.
Dubiously, Bink cut off a piece and put it to his mouth. It was the finest dragon steak he had ever tasted-which was not saying much, since dragons were very difficult prey; he had eaten it only twice before. It was a truism that more people were eaten by dragons than dragons eaten by people. And the sauce-he had to grab for the glass of wine she had poured for him, to quench the heat. But it was a delicious burn, converting to flavor.
Still, he doubted. 'Uh-would you mind??'
She grimaced. 'Only for a moment,' she said.
The steak dissolved into dull boiled rice, then back into dragon meat.
'Thanks' Bink said. 'It's still a bit hard to believe.'
'More wine?'
'Uh, is it intoxicating?'
'No, unfortunately. You could drink it all day and never feel it, unless your own imagination made you dizzy.'
'Glad to hear it.' He accepted the elegant glass of sparkling fluid as she refilled it, and sipped. He had gulped down the first too fast to taste it. Maybe it was actually water, but it seemed to be perfect blue wine, the kind specified for dragon meat, full-bodied and delicately flavored. Much like the Sorceress herself.
For dessert they had home-baked chocolate-chip cookies, slightly burned. That last touch made it so realistic that he was hard put to it to preserve his disbelief. She obviously knew something about cooking and baking, even in illusion.
She cleared away the dishes and returned to join him on the cushions. Now she was in a low-cut evening gown, and he saw in more than adequate detail exactly how well-formed she was. Of course, that too could be illusion-but if it felt the same as it looked, who would protest?
Then his nose almost dripped onto the inviting gown, and he jerked his head up. He had been looking a mite too closely.
'Are you unhappy?' Iris inquired sympathetically.
'Uh, no. My nose-it-'
'Have a handkerchief,' she said, proffering a lovely lace affair.
Bink hated to use such a work of art to honk his nose into, but it was better than using the pillows.
'Uh, is there any work I can do before I go?' he inquired uneasily.
'You are thinking too small,' Iris said, leaning forward earnestly and inhaling deeply. Bink felt the flush rising along his neck. Sabrina seemed very far away-and she would never have dressed like this, anyway.
'I told you-I have to go to the Good Magician Humfrey to find my magic-or be exiled. I don't really think I have any magic, so-'
'I could arrange for you to stay, regardless,' she said, nudging closer.
She was definitely making a play for him. But why would such an intelligent, talented woman be interested in a nobody like him? Bink mopped his nose again. A nobody with a cold. Her appearance might be greatly enhanced by illusion, but mind and talent were obviously genuine. She should have no need of him-for anything.
'You could perform magic that everyone would see,' she continued in that dismayingly persuasive way of hers, nudging up against him. She certainly felt real-most provocatively so. 'I could fashion an illusion of performance that no one could penetrate.' He wished she hadn't said that while touching him so intimately. 'I can do my magic from a distance, too, so there would be no way to tell I was involved. But that is the least of it. I can bring you wealth and power and comfort-all genuine, non-illusive. I can give you beauty and love. All that you might desire as a citizen of Xanth-'
Bink grew more suspicious. What was she leading up to? 'I have a fiance-'
