of dragons and other magic beasts in Mundane texts. The Mundanes don't see dragons any more, so they think the old texts are fantasy-but this proves that it takes a while for the magic in a creature or person to dissipate.'
'So a Sorceress could retain her illusion for a few days after all,' Bink said.
She sighed. 'Maybe so. But I'm not Iris, though I certainly wouldn't mind being her. I had entirely different and compelling reasons to leave Xanth.'
'Yes, I remember. One was to lose your magic, whatever it was, and the other you wouldn't tell me.'
'I suppose you deserve to know. You're going to have it out of me one way or another. I learned from Wynne and Dee what sort of a person you were, and-'
'So Wynne did get away from the dragon?'
'Yes, thanks to you. She-'
A light was coming. 'Chameleon,' Bink said.
Fanchon scrambled to hide her bricks. This time the light came all the way to the pit. 'I trust you have not been flooded out down there?' Trent's voice inquired.
'If we were, we'd swim away from here,' Bink said. 'Listen, Magician-the more uncomfortable you make us, the less we want to help you.'
'I am keenly aware of that, Bink. I would much prefer to provide you with a comfortable tent-'
'No.'
'Bink, I find it difficult to comprehend why you should be so loyal to a government that treated you so shabbily.'
'What do you know about that?'
'My spies have of course been monitoring your dialogues. But I could have guessed it readily enough, knowing how old and stubborn the Storm King must be by now. Magic manifests in divers forms, and when the definitions become too narrow-'
'Well, it doesn't make any difference here.'
The Magician persisted, sounding quite reasonable in contrast to Bink's unreason. 'It may be that you do lack magic, Bink, though I hardly think Humfrey would be wrong about a thing like that. But you have other qualities to recommend you, and you would make an excellent citizen.'
'He's right, you know,' Fanchon said. 'You do deserve better than you were given.'
'Which side are you on?' Bink demanded.
She sighed in the dark. She sounded very human; it was easier to appreciate that quality when he couldn't see her. 'I'm on your side, Bink. I admire your loyalty; I'm just not sure it's deserved.'
'Why don't you tell him where the Shieldstone is, then-if you know it?'
'Because, with all its faults, Xanth remains a nice place. The senile King won't live forever; when he dies they'll have to put in the Magician Humfrey, and he'll make things much better, even if he does complain about the time it's wasting him. Maybe some new or young Magician is being born right now, to take over after that. It'll work out somehow. It always has before. The last thing Xanth needs is to be taken over by a cruel, Evil Magician who would turn all his opposition into turnips.'
Trent's chuckle came down from above. 'My dear, you have a keen mind and a sharp tongue. Actually, I prefer to turn my opponents into trees; they are more durable than turnips. I don't suppose you could concede, merely for the sake of argument, that I might make a better ruler than the present King?'
'He's got a point, you know,' Bink said, smiling cynically in the dark.
'Which side are you on?' Fanchon demanded, mimicking the tone Bink had used before.
But it was Trent who laughed. 'I like you two,' he said. 'I really do. You have good minds and good loyalty. If you would only give that loyalty to me, I would be prepared to make substantial concessions. For example, I might grant you veto power over any transformations I made. You could thus choose the turnips.'
'So we'd be responsible for your crimes,' Fanchon said. 'That sort of power would be bound to corrupt us very soon, until we were no different from you.'
'Only if your basic fiber were not superior to mine,' Trent pointed out. 'And if it were not, then you would never have been any different from me. You merely have not yet been subjected to my situation. It would be best if you discovered this, so as not to be unconscious hypocrites.'
Bink hesitated. He was wet and cold, and he did not relish spending the night in this hole. Had Trent been one to keep his word, twenty years ago? No, he hadn't; he had broken his word freely in his pursuit of power. That was part of what had defeated him; no one could afford to trust him, not even his friends.
The Magician's promises were valueless. His logic was a tissue of rationalization, designed only to get one of the prisoners to divulge the location of the Shieldstone. Veto power over transformations? Bink and Fanchon would be the first to be transformed, once the Evil one had no further need of them.
Bink did not reply. Fanchon remained silent. After a moment Trent departed.
'And so we weather temptation number two,' Fanchon remarked. 'But he's a clever and unscrupulous man; it will get harder.'
Bink was afraid she was right.
Next morning the slanting sunlight baked the crude bricks. They were hardly hard yet, but at least it was a start. Fanchon placed the items in the privacy cubicle so that they could not be seen from above. She would set them out again for the afternoon sun, if all went well.
Trent came by with more food: fresh fruit and milk. 'I dislike putting it on this footing,' he said, 'but
