"Not on the open tome!" he exclaimed. "You'll muss the pages!"
The Gorgon moved the bag to the side of the book. Then she dropped to her knees before Humfrey. "Oh, my lord, must you go into this thing? Can't you rule from here?"
"What's this 'my love, my lord' business?" Grundy demanded. "The Gorgon kneels to no one!"
Humfrey picked up the bag. "What must be must be," he said. "So it is written-there." He jammed a gnarled finger on the open page of the tome.
Imbri looked. The book said: IT IS NOT FOR THE GOOD MAGICIAN TO BREAK THE CHAIN.
The Gorgon's veil was darkening as moisture soaked through it. Imbri was amazed; could this fearsome creature be crying? "My lord, I implore you--at least let me come with you, to petrify your enemies!"
Grundy looked at her with sudden, horrified understanding. "To petrify--and she wears a concealing veil she wouldn't need for an invisible face. The Gorgon's been loosed!"
"Her power must not be loosed prematurely," Humfrey said. "Not till the King of Xanth so directs, or it will be wasted and Xanth will fall. She must fetch her sister for the time when the two of them are needed."
"But how will we know?" the Gorgon demanded. "You restored the Siren's dulcimer and have it waiting for her here. But we may not even have a King of Xanth, let alone one who knows what to direct!"
"Someone will know," Humfrey said. "Mare Imbrium, I must borrow you until I recover my flying carpet. Golem, you must baby-sit this castle until the girls return."
"Me? But--"
"Or until need calls you elsewhere."
"What need?" the golem asked, baffled.
"You will know when it manifests." Humfrey cocked a forefinger at the miniature man. "Do not diddle with my books. And leave my spells bottled."
"But suppose I'm thirsty?"
"Some of those bottled spells would turn you into a giant--"
"A giant!" the golem exclaimed happily.
"--purple bugbear," the Gorgon concluded, and the golem's excitement faded.
The Magician climbed onto Imbri, using a corner of his desk as a stepping block. He was small, old, and infirm, and Imbri was afraid he would fall. Then he hauled up the heavy bag of spells and almost did fall as it overbalanced him. "I'd better use a fixative spell," he muttered. He opened the bag and rummaged in it. He brought out a bottle, worked out the cork, and spilled a plaid drop.
A plaid banshee formed and sailed out through the ceiling with a trailing wail.
"Wrong bottle," the Gorgon said, standing. "Here, let me get it." She reached into the bag and drew forth a white bottle. She popped the cork and spilled out a drop. Immediately it expanded into a white bubble that floated toward Imbri and the Magician, overlapped them, and shrank suddenly about them, cementing Humfrey and his bag firmly to the mare's back.
"You see, you do need me," the Gorgon said. "I know where every spell is packed."
"Stay," Humfrey said, as if addressing a puppy. "Move out, mare."
Imbri moved out, phasing through the wall and leaping down to the ground beyond the moat. In her insubstantial state, such leaps were safe.
They were on their way to Castle Roogna, but Imbri was dissatisfied. "Why didn't you let her be with you?" she sent reprovingly to the Magician. "The Gorgon really seems to care for you."
"Of course she cares for me, the idiot!" Humfrey snapped. "She's a better wife than I deserve. Always was."
"But then--"
"Because I don't want her to see me wash out," he said. "A man my age has few points of pride, and my doom will be ignominious."
That seemed to cover it. Humfrey loved the Gorgon; his way of showing it was subtle. Still, Imbri had a question. "If you know you will fail, and are only going to your doom, why do you go at all?"
"To buy time and allow my successor to return from Mundania," Humfrey replied. "Xanth must have a King, a Magician King, and Bink is the next. But he is in Mundania. Without a King, Xanth will fall to the Nextwave."
"But to go to your death--"
"It is not death, precisely," Humfrey said. "But since I can not be sure it will not in due course become death, I do not care to temporize. My wife will perform better if not handicapped by hope. I have locked up hope."
"That is a cruel mechanism," Imbri sent, shuddering as they entered the eye of a gourd.
"No more cruel than the dreams of night mares," he retorted.
The raw material of those bad dreams now surrounded them. Mirrors loomed before them, distorting their reflections, so that Humfrey resembled now a goblin, now a squat ghoul, now an imp, while Imbri passed through stages of bovine, ursine, and caprine resemblances. They entered a region of paper, where nothing existed that was not formed of painted paper, and the birds and animals were folded paper.
"This is fascinating," Humfrey said. "But I have more immediate business. Mare, I mean to unriddle the identity of the hidden enemy before he takes me out. I will record his name on a magic slate and hide it in a bottle he can not find. You must salvage that bottle and recover that Answer so that my successor may have it."
"You are the Magician of Information," Imbri sent "How is it you do not know the Answer?"
"Some knowledge is self-destructive," Humfrey replied. "Some Answers I could fathom, but my fathoming would cause the situation to change, perhaps creating uglier Questions than the ones answered. But mainly, I can not accurately foretell a future of which I am an integral part, and the discovery of the identity of the ensorceller is in that future. Answers might seem valid but be false, because of my conflict of interest."
Imbri could not quite understand that, but decided it probably made humanish sense. After all, the Good Magician was supposed to know.
They emerged from the gourd in the patch nearest to Castle Roogna and trotted toward the castle. Dawn was threatening, for Imbri's travels did take a certain amount of time. But she phased through the stone ramparts and delivered the Good Magician to the throne room, where Queen Iris awaited him.
"Excellent," she said. "The resources of this castle and of Xanth are at your disposal, Good King Humfrey."
"Naturally," Humfrey grumped. "Just let me dismount." But he was unable to dismount, for the adhesion spell held him securely on Imbri's back. He had to fish in his bag for an antidote. He did not get it right the first time, instead releasing a flock of green doves, then a fat book titled Mundane Fatuities; remarking that that had been lost for some years and would now be useful for entertainment reading, which was probably why the Gorgon had packed it, he then brought out a rolled pair of polka-dot socks. The Gorgon had indeed remembered! Finally he found the antidote and was free to return to his own two feet.
"Now let's review the situation," King Humfrey said. "We've lost five Kings, with five to go--"
"What?" Queen Iris asked, startled.
"Five Kings," he repeated, irritated.
"What five?"
"Bink, Humfrey, Jonathan--"
"You're counting backward," Queen Iris said. "And you and Bink haven't been lost yet--" She paused. "Bink?"
"I just told you. Iris!" Humfrey snapped.
"It was me you told, Magician," Imbri sent hastily.
"Bink is to succeed you as King."
"Same thing. You're both females. How can I remember you apart? Now, the essential thing is to beware the Horseman and break the chain. Bink is the one most likely to--"
"But Bink has no magic!" Queen Iris protested.
"Stop interrupting, woman!" Humfrey snapped. The Queen's notorious ire rose. Her standard evocation of temper, black thunderclouds, boiled in the background, split by jags of lightning. This was impressive, since they were inside the castle. Imbri liked to generate similar storms when she herself was angry, but hers remained within the dreamer's mind. "Whom do you suppose you are addressing, gnome?"
"King Gnome," Humfrey corrected, reaching into his bag. He withdrew a vial, removed the cork, and shook out a drop that scintillated at the lip of the container. As it fell, the
drop exploded in heat and light. The Queen's storm cloud sizzled and shrank as if being fried in a hot pan, and the lightning jags drooped limply. The Queen's display of temper subsided. The Magician had made his point. He had destroyed illusion.
"King Gnome," she repeated sullenly.
"The nature of Bink's talent is this," Humfrey said. "He can not be harmed by magic. Since the Mundanes represent a nonmagical menace, he may not be able to stop them-- but he may be able to break the chain of lost Kings--"
"The chain of lost Kings!" Queen Iris exclaimed. "That was what you meant!"
"And thereby provide essential continuity of government for Xanth. Given that, the Mundane menace can be contained."
The Good Magician paused. When Queen Iris saw that he had finished, she ventured another question. "Why wasn't Bink's magic known before? He should have been King by now--"
"If it had been generally known that he was secure from the threats of magic, his enemies would have turned to nonmagical means to harm him," Humfrey explained. "Therefore his magic would betray him after all. So it protected him by protecting itself from revelation, making his immunity from magical harm seem coincidental. Only King Trent knew the secret, and he protected it rigorously, lest Bink's talent turn against him as a magical enemy. For Bink's magic is powerful indeed, however subtle its manifestation; in fifty years of his life, nothing magical has ever harmed him, though often it seemed to, or was aborted only by apparent coincidence. I myself was unable to fathom his secret"
"But obviously you know it now!" the Queen protested.
"I was able to penetrate it when he went to Mundania," Humfrey said smugly. "That temporarily nullified his power. I knew he had magic all along; I simply had not known its nature. But even after I ascertained this, I couldn't tell anyone. Until now, when he is away again-- and must be recognized as the legitimate heir to the throne of Xanth."
"He shall be recognized," Queen Iris said grimly. "But how can there be five more Kings after him if he is to break the chain of Kings?"
"That detail is unclear to me," the Good Magician confessed. "Yet my references suggest it is so."
"How can there be five more Kings when there are no more Magicians in Xanth?" the Queen persisted.
"There is one more--Magician Arnolde," Humfrey said.
"But he's a centaur!"
"Still a Magician."
"But his magic operates only beyond Xanth. Inside Xanth he has no power!"
"The law of Xanth does not specify what type of magic a Magician must have or where it should operate," Humfrey reminded her. "After Bink, Arnolde will be King."
"And after Arnolde?"
Humfrey spread his hands. "I would like to know that myself, but my references were opaque. If the full chain of future Kings were known, our hidden enemy might nullify them in advance; paradox preserves the secret."
Queen Iris shrugged. She evidently suspected Humfrey was getting senile, but didn't want to say it. "What can I do to help save Xanth, your Majesty?"
"Bide your time, woman. Acclaim each King as he comes. When the chain is broken, you will have your reward. The single thing you most desire."
"I've been biding my time while three Kings have been lost!" she exclaimed. Then, as an afterthought: "What single thing?"
"You don't know?"
"I asked, didn't I?"
"I don't remember. Whatever it is, you'll get it. Maybe before the chain breaks. Meanwhile, these are difficult times." Humfrey yawned. "Now let me sleep; later in the day I must bait my trap." He sighed. "Too bad it won't be effective." He reached into his bag again, brought out a small, folded wallet, and unfolded it lengthwise and breadth wise again and again, until it became a small folding cot. He lay down on this and commenced snoring.
Queen Iris shook her head. "Difficult times indeed!" she repeated. "They don't make Kings the way they used to. Humfrey always was the most annoying man."
There was a noise outside as the sun came up. Queen Iris walked to the largest window and opened it. The magic carpet sailed in and landed neatly on the floor. Chameleon was on it, slightly less pretty than before. "I just had to come," she said apologetically. "My husband is due home from Mundania tonight, and I have to be here to meet him."
Queen Iris greeted her with open arms. Imbri noted that human women did a lot more hugging than did other creatures. "My dear, I have a lot to tell you, not much of it good." They moved into another room.
Imbri went down and out to the deserted zombie graveyard to graze and sleep on her feet. The best grazing was always around graves. She knew Magician King Humfrey would summon her when he needed her.
At noon Good King Humfrey summoned her back to the castle. "Carry me to the baobab tree," he said. "I shall set my trap there."
The baobab! That was where she had gone to meet the day horse! Would he be there today?
Chameleon appeared. "Your Majesty--may I go now to meet my husband? I want to be sure he does not blunder into the Mundanes, who are between him and here."
"He's due in the isthmus tonight," Humfrey said. Now that he was King, he did not seem at all vague or confused, though he remained stooped by age. "Imbri will fetch him then, when she can travel swiftly and safely."
"But I want to go with her," Chameleon said. "I've lost my King, my son, and my friend the Zombie Master; I must see to my husband myself."
Humfrey considered. "Perhaps this is wise. The Night Stallion believes you are important in coming events. There will be much to prepare Bink for, in the short time remaining to him. But you will need another steed. Arnolde will be with him, but the centaur will be tired; he is almost as old as I am, you know."
Imbri, of course, was older than either. But night mares were eternal. "The day horse!" she sent. "He helped before. He meets me at the baobab tree. He can be the second steed."
Humfrey’s brow wrinkled even more than normal. "The day horse? I have not researched that one. Is he magic?"
"No, he's an escaped Mundane horse," Chameleon explained. "He is very nice. He would be an excellent companion."
The Magician shrugged. "As you wish." He loaded himself and his bag of tricks onto Imbri and spelled the works into place.
"We'll be back for you tonight!" Imbri sent in a dreamlet to Chameleon. Then she headed off, carefully using the doors and stairs, since this was solid day.
She trotted out to the baobab. She did not see the day horse--but of course he would hide from the Magician, being very shy of strangers. "Day horse!" Imbri sent. "It is all right! This is Good Magician King Humfrey."
The day horse came out from behind the upside-down tree. "He's not Mundane?" he asked within the dreamlet.
"Far from it! He's a great Magician. He knows everything."
The day horse stepped back, alarmed.
"Not everything," Humfrey grumped. "Only what I choose to research--and I haven't researched Mundane horses and don't have time now. Come on--we have to set up my spells."
The day horse hesitantly followed them inside. Humfrey spelled himself free of Imbri's back, then began setting out his devices. Bottles and vials and packages and books emerged from his bag in bewildering number and variety, until the volume of them was obviously more than the bag could have enclosed. Naturally the Magician used a magic bag that held an impossible amount.
"What are these things for?" Imbri asked in a dreamlet, her equine curiosity getting the better of her. She wasn't sure the Magician would deign to answer.
"It's best that you know," he said, surprising her. "First, I need to keep informed of the progress of the Nextwavers. Therefore I shall release these Spy I's." He opened a metallic container by rolling up its top on a kind of key. This seemed like an absolutely senseless way to package anything, but of course the Good Magician had his own ways of doing things. Inside were packed a score of white eyeballs. He shook the can, and several popped out and hovered in the air uncertainly.
"Go peek at the Gap Chasm," he directed them. "Snoop on the Mundanes. S
et up a regular schedule of reports."
The balls flew off in a line. "Eye Spy!" they whistled as they departed.
Now Humfrey brought out a bundle of paper-thin doll cutouts. "I must also lure them to this spot so as not to endanger Castle Roogna," he said. He untied the string binding the cutouts, and the first ones began peeling off. As they did, they expanded and filled out. Hair unstuck itself and billowed about the head-sections; breasts popped forward from the upper torso-frames, and legs rounded from the lower portions. The dolls became floating, airfilled nymphs, lovely in the manner of their kind, but fundamentally empty. They hovered, bounced, and jiggled expectantly.
"Follow the Spy I's," Humfrey directed them. "Put on your airs on the return trip, staying just ahead of those who pursue you. Any of you who get caught are apt to get punctured." He smiled obscurely.
Silently the nymph shapes flew away.
"But if the Mundanes come here, they'll attack you!" Imbri sent protestingly.
"Naturally," Humfrey agreed. "And I shall destroy them with my remaining spells." He seemed to have forgotten his earlier remark about his plans being doomed to failure. He reached in the bag again and drew forth a wet-looking loop of substance. "Now pay attention, mare, in case I need your help, though obviously I won't need it." He held up the loop. "This is the River Elba, conveniently coiled." He hung it on his right arm, demonstrating its convenience. "It says 'Able was I ere I saw elbow,' close enough. If you untie the cord binding it, Elba will be unbound and will flood out the region. Do not free the river unless you have the enemy in a floodable region."
The day horse snorted. Humfrey's nose wrinkled. "You doubt me, horse? Note this." He took hold of a single strand of the loop and broke it where it passed under the binding cord. This enabled him to separate the strand from the main loop. He tossed it at the day horse.
The loop-strand expanded in midair, becoming a torrent of water. The day horse was soaked. The water splashed down his legs to his hooves and flowed on out of the baobab tree, tapering off as its volume diminished. It was indeed part of a fairly substantial river.
"Well, you did snort!" Imbri sent mirthfully. The day horse shook himself, not particularly pleased. He did not snort again.
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