Piers Anthony - The Source of Magic

Chester glanced around. "She's a bitch, and she shows off, but I have to admit her magic is impressive. But I'm worried about the quantity of food; if there isn't enough-"

There turned out to be no danger of a shortage. The refreshments were mountainous, and under the personal guard of Queen Iris. She had a picklepuss on a little leash. Whenever someone had the temerity to take a delicacy, the picklepuss pickled it. "No one eats it until the grand prize is awarded," Iris announced, glaring about. Since she had garbed herself as a warrior-queen-mermaid, complete with spiked crown, trident, and powerful tail, and the points of the trident glistened with a coating of slime that was probably illusion too but just might possibly be genuine poison, this was an effective enough deterrent even without the picklepuss.

Bink and Chester separated, mixing with the other guests. Just about every creature of note in Xanth was present, except for Chester's filly Cherie, who was no doubt still wrapped up in the colt, and Bink's Chameleon, wrapped up in her misery. And the Good Magician Humfrey, who never socialized voluntarily.

Bink spotted his father Roland, down from the North Village. Roland was careful not to embarrass Bink by any overt show of affection; They shook hands

"Nice shoes, son."

This was nevertheless a miscue, after the scene with Chameleon. "Fresh from the tree," Bink said awkwardly.

"What have you been doing these past few months?" Bubbles rose from Roland's mouth as he spoke, quivering spherically as they sought the surface of the ocean. When Queen Iris put on an illusion, it was some illusion! Ordinary citizens, with their motley individual magic talents, could only look upon the works of the Sorceress and despair. Which was, of course, why the Queen was putting on this show.

"Oh, practicing with the sword, tilling the garden, that sort of thing," Bink said.

"I understand Chameleon is expecting momentarily."

"That, too," Bink said, again experiencing the frustration of his situation.

"A son will help fill the house."

Provided it turned out to be a normal, talented son. Bink changed the subject. "We have a delicate young slipper plant just blossoming; I think it will bear her first pair of slippers soon."

"The ladies will be pleased," Roland said gravely, as if this were significant news. Suddenly Bink realized that he had very little to show for his past year. What had he accomplished? Virtually nothing. No wonder he felt out of sorts!

The illumination dimmed. It was as if dusk were falling, causing the sea to darken, too. But the diffused daylight was replaced by nocturnal fluorescence. The flotation sacs on the seaweed glowed like little lamps, and the neon-coral was brightly outlined in assorted colors. Even the puffy sponges emitted wan beams. The animal life had sharper light, with electric eels flashing searchlight beams, and assorted fish shone translucently. The overall effect was bewilderingly beautiful.

"If only her personality were as excellent as her taste," Roland murmured, referring to the Queen.

"We shall now award the door prize," Queen Iris announced. She glowed most of all: streams of light emanated from the points of her crown and trident, and her beautifully bare mermaid torso was clearly outlined. She was the mistress of illusion; she could make herself as lovely as she chose, and she chose well.

"I understand it was a marriage of convenience," Roland continued. Though no Magician himself, Roland was the King's regent north of the Gap, and did not hold royalty in awe. "It must be extremely convenient at times."

Bink nodded, slightly embarrassed by his father's evident appreciation of the well-displayed if illusory charms of the Queen. The man was bordering on fifty, after all! Yet it had to be true. The King professed no love for the Queen, and governed that temperamental woman with a subtly iron hand that amazed those who had known Iris before her marriage. Yet she thrived under that discipline. Those who knew the King well understood that not only was he a more powerful Magician than she, he was also a stronger person. In fact, it looked as if the magic Land of Xanth had its most effective King since the Fourth Wave Reign of Roogna, the builder of this castle-palace. Already formidable changes were occurring; the magic shield that had protected Xanth from intrusion had been removed, and Mundane creatures are allowed to cross the border. The first to cross had been the members of the King's former Mundane army; they had been settled in wilderness regions and were becoming productive citizens of Xanth. The requirement that each citizen demonstrate a magic talent had been abolished-and to the amazement of some conservatives, chaos had not resulted. People were becoming known and respected for their total qualities, not just the accident of their magic. Selected parties were exploring nearby Mundania, where no magic existed, and outlying guard posts were being established so that no invasion could happen by surprise. The King had not destroyed the shieldstone; he would restore the shield if it were ever needed.

At any rate, Bink was sure King Trent had an eye for all things good and useful, including the flesh of fair women, and the Queen was his to command. She could and would be anything the King wished, and he would not be human if he did not avail himself of this, at least on occasion. The question was, what did he want? This was common palace speculation, and the prevailing opinion was that the King wanted variety. The Queen seldom appeared in the same guise twice.

"Palace Guard, your report," the Queen demanded peremptorily.

Soldier Crombie came forward slowly. He was resplendent in his palace uniform, every inch the soldier in a kingdom that hardly needed soldiers. He could fight well and savagely with sword or bare hands and did not like serving as lackey to a woman-and he showed it. Therefore she enjoyed ordering him about. But she could not push him too far, for his loyalty was to the King, and the King's favor lay on him.

"The winner-" Crombie began, consulting his notes.

"No, not that way, idiot!" she exclaimed, blotting him out with a cloud of diffusing dye. More illusion, of course, but quite effective. "First you give the runner-up, then you give the winner. Do something right, for a change."

Crombie's scowling face emerged from the thinning illusion "Women!" he muttered with caustically.

The Queen smiled, enjoying his ire. "The runner-up, with nine correct identifications, is-" He scowled again. "A woman. Bianca of the North Village."

"Mother!" Bink breathed, surprised.

"She always did enjoy guessing games," Roland said with pride. "I think you inherit your intelligence as well as your looks from her."

"And my courage and strength from you," Bink said, appreciating the compliment.

Bianca walked sedately to the stage area. She was a handsome woman who in youth had been beautiful, and unlike the Queen she was genuine. Her talent was the replay, not illusion.

"So the distaff proves itself again," the Queen said, smirking at Crombie the woman-hater. "The prize is-" She paused. "Doorman, fetch the second prize. You should have had it ready."

Crombie's scowl became truly ominous, but he walked to a cabinet half concealed by seaweed and brought out a covered container.

"The prize is," the Queen repeated, then whipped off the cover. "A potted snapdragon!"

There was a murmur of well-meaning awe and envy from the ladies present as the plant's several flower-heads flexed about on their stems, snapping viciously. Snapdragons were very good for eliminating insect and animal pests, and served as useful guards for houses. Woe to the intruder who stepped in or near such a plant! But they did not take readily to potting, so that a special and rather difficult spell was necessary to confine them. Thus wild snapdragons were common enough, but potted ones rare and much prized.