"You lie!" Crombie exclaimed. "You mean harm to this man, my friend who saved my life. Confess!" And he lifted his sword again.
"For God's sake--let her be!" Bink yelled. "You made a mistake. She's obviously harmless."
"My talent's never been wrong before," Crombie said. "This is where it pointed your greatest threat."
"Maybe the threat is behind her, beyond," Bink said. "She was merely in the line of sight."
Crombie paused. "Could be. I never thought of that." He was evidently a reasonable man, under the violence. "Wait, I'll verify."
The soldier withdrew somewhat, stationing himself to the east of the girl. He shut his eyes and rotated. His pointing finger came to bear squarely on Dee.
The girl burst into tears. "I mean you no harm-I swear it. Don't hurt me!"
She was a plain girl, of strictly average face and figure, no beauty. This was in contrast to the several females Bink had encountered recently. Yet there was something vaguely familiar about her, and Bink was always unnerved by feminine distress. "Maybe it's not physical danger," he said. "Does your talent differentiate?''
"No, it doesn't," Crombie admitted, a bit defensively. "It can be any kind of threat, and she may not actually mean you harm-but sure as hell, there's something."
Bink studied the girl, whose sniffles were drying up. That familiarity-where had he seen her before? She was not from the North Village, and he really had not encountered many girls elsewhere. Somewhere on his current journey?
Slowly the notion dawned on him: a Sorceress of illusion did not have to make herself beautiful. If she wanted to keep track of him, she could adopt a completely different appearance, thinking he would never suspect. Yet the illusion would be easiest to maintain if it corresponded somewhat to her natural contours. Take off a few pounds here and there, modify the voice--could be. If he fell for the ruse, he could be in dire danger of being led into corruption. Only the soldier's special magic gave it away.
But how could he be sure? Even if Dee represented some critical threat to him, he had to be sure he had identified the right danger. A man who stepped around a venom mouse could be overlooking a harpy on the other side. Snap judgments about magic were suspect.
A brilliant notion came to him. "Dee, you must be thirsty," he said. "Have a drink of water." And he proffered his canteen.
"Oh, thank you," she said, taking it gladly.
The water cured all ills. An enchantment was an ill, wasn't it? So if she drank, it might show her-at least momentarily-in her true guise. Then he would know. Dee drank deeply. There was no change.
"Oh, this is very good," she said. "I feel so much better."
The two men exchanged glances. Scratch one bright notion. Either Dee was not Iris, or the Sorceress had better control than he had supposed. He had no way of knowing.
"Now be on your way, girl," Crombie said curtly.
"I am going to see the Magician Humfrey," she said contritely. "I need a spell to make me well."
Again Bink and Crombie exchanged glances. Dee had drunk the magic water; she was well. Therefore she had no need to see the Good Magician on that score. She had to be lying. And if she were lying, what was she concealing from them?
She must have picked this particular destination because she knew Bink was going there. Yet this was still conjecture. It could be pure coincidence-or she could be an ogre in female form-a healthy ogre!-waiting for the expedient moment to strike.
Crombie, seeing Bink's indecision, made a decision of his own. "If you let her go with you, then I'm coming too. With my hand ever on my sword. Watching her-all the time."
"Maybe that's best," Bink agreed reluctantly.
"I bear you no malice," Dee protested. "I would do nothing to hurt you, even were I able. Why don't you believe me?"
Bink found it too complicated to explain. "You can travel with us if you want to," he said.
Dee smiled gratefully, but Crombie shook his head grimly and fingered the hilt of his sword.
Crombie remained suspicious, but Bink soon discovered he enjoyed Dee's company. She had no trace of the personality of the Sorceress. She was such an average girl that he identified with her to a considerable extent. She seemed to have no magic; at least, she evaded that subject. Perhaps she was going to the Magician in the hope of finding her talent; maybe that was what she had meant by needing a spell to make her well. Who was in good shape in Xanth without magic?
However, if she were the Sorceress Iris, her ruse would quickly be exposed by the divination of the Magician. So the truth wound be known.
They stopped at the Spring of Life to refill their canteen, traveled half a day, then got caught by a technicolor hailstorm. It was magic, of course, or magic-augmented. The colors gave it away. Which meant that there would not be any great melting or runoff. All they had to do was take shelter from it until it passed.
