Again he paused in his thoughts. Oh, no!
Yet he could hardly doubt his sudden emotion. He had imbibed from a spring, and become enamored of the first maiden he had seen thereafter. It must have been a love spring!
But why had his talent let him drink it?
The answer was distressingly obvious. He wished he hadn't thought of the question. His talent had no regard for his feelings, or those of others. It protected only his physical, personal welfare. It must have decided that his wife Chameleon represented some kind of threat to his welfare, so it was finding him another love. It had not been satisfied with separating him from Chameleon temporarily; now it intended to make that separation permanent.
'I will not have it!' he cried aloud. 'I love Chameleon!'
And that was true. Love potions did not undo existing relations. But now he also loved this nymph- and she was a great deal more accessible.
Was he at war with his own talent? He had ethics it evidently did not; he was civilized while it was primitive. Who was to be the master, here?
He fought, but could not undo the effect of the love spring. Had he anticipated what his talent was leading him into, he might have balked it before he drank, but now he was the victim of a fait accompli. Well, he would settle with his talent when he found a better occasion.
All was fair in magic. 'Nymph, come here and tell me your name, or I'll steal all your treasure!' he yelled.
When she did not respond, he righted the keg and began scooping up gems. There was an amazing assortment: diamonds, pearls, opals, emeralds, sapphires, and too many others to classify. How had the nymph come by such a fortune?
Now the nymph appeared, peeking around a curve in the tunnel. Coincidentally, Bink smelled the fleeting scent of woodland flowers. 'But I need that treasure!' she protested.
Bink continued his work. The stones sailed into the barrel. 'What is your name?' he demanded.
'What's yours?' There was an odor like that of a hesitant deerfly at the edge of a glade.
'I asked you first.' All he wanted to do was keep her in conversation until he could catch her.
'But you're the stranger!' she pointed out with female logic.
Ah, well He liked her logic. He knew it was the effect of the potion, but he was captive to her mannerisms. 'My name is Bink.'
'I am Jewel,' she said. 'The Nymph of Jewels, if you insist on the whole definition. Now give me back my stones.'
'I'll be glad to, Jewel. For a kiss.'
'What kind of a nymph do you think I am?' she protested in typical nymphly fashion. Now there was the odor of pine-oil disinfectant.
'I hope to find out. Tell me about yourself.'
She edged farther into the room, distrusting him. 'I'm just a rock nymph. I see that all the precious stones get properly planted in the ground, so that goblins, dragons, men, and other voracious creatures can mine them.' Bink smelled the mixed fumes of hard-laboring men and goblins. 'It's all very important, because otherwise those creatures would be even wilder than they are. The mining gives them something to do.'
So that was how the jewels got planted. Bink had always wondered about that, or would have wondered had he thought about it 'But where do you get them to start with?'
'Oh, they just appear by magic, of course. The keg never empties.'
'It doesn't?'
'See, it is already overflowing with the gems you are trying to put back. You aren't supposed to put them back.'
Bink looked, surprised. It was so. He had assumed the keg was empty without really checking it, because his main attention had been on the nymph.
'How am I ever going to process all those extra stones?' she demanded with cute petulance. 'Usually it takes an hour to place each one, and you have spilled hundreds.' She stamped her sweet little foot, not knowing how to express her annoyance effectively. Nymphs had been designed for appearance, not emotion.
'Me? You spilled them when you ran!' Bink retorted. 'I'm trying to pick them up.'
'Well, it's your fault because you scared me. What were you doing behind the wall? No one's supposed to go there. That's why it's walled off. The water-' She paused with new alarm. 'You didn't-?'
'I did,' Bink said. 'I was thirsty, and-'
She screamed again, and fled again. Nymphs by nature were flighty. Bink continued his gathering, arranging the surplus jewels in a pile beside the keg, knowing she would be back. He hated himself somewhat, knowing he should leave her alone, but found himself unable to stop himself. And he did owe it to her to clean up this mess as well as he could, though the pile was getting unwieldy.
Jewel peeked back around the corner. 'If you'd just go away and let me catch up-'
'Not until I've finished cleaning up this overflow,' Bink said. 'As you pointed out, it is my fault' He placed a huge egg-shaped opal on top of his mound-and watched the whole thing subside, squirting out diamonds and things. He was getting nowhere.
She edged in closer. 'No, you're right I spilled it. I'll catch up somehow. You just-just leave. Please.'
