Like death-had that been the meaning of his omen? He had not died, but he had killed-without meaning to, in a manner completely foreign to his normal state. Had the omen been fulfilled?
Bink sat up, another realization coming. "Trent's talent is genuine. We were transformed. We really were."
"It is genuine. We really were," she agreed somberly. "I admit I doubted-but now I believe."
"He must have changed us back while we were unconscious."
"Yes. He was only making a demonstration."
"It was an effective one."
"It was." She shuddered. "Bink-I-I don't know whether I can take that again. It wasn't just the change. It was-"
"I know. You made a hell of an ugly basilisk."
"I would make a hell of an ugly anything. But the sheer malignancy, stupidity, and awfulness-those things are foul! To spend the rest of my life like that--"
"I can't blame you," Bink said. But still something nagged at his mind. The experience had been so momentous that he knew it would take a long time for his mind to sift through all its aspects.
"I didn't think anyone could make me go against my conscience. But this--this--" She put her face into her hands.
Bink nodded silently. After a moment he shifted the subject. "Did you notice--those creatures were male and female."
"Of course," she said, gaining control of herself now that she had something to orient on. "We are male and female. The Magician can change our forms but not our sexes."
"But the basilisks should be neuter. Hatched of eggs laid by roosters--there are no parent basilisks, only roosters."
She nodded thoughtfully, catching hold of the problem. "You're right. If there are males and females, they should mate and reproduce their own kind. Which means, by definition, they aren't basilisks. A paradox."
"There must be something wrong with the definition,'' Bink said. "Either there's a lot of superstition about the origins of monsters, or we were not genuine basilisks."
"We were genuine," she said, grimacing with renewed horror. "I'm sure now. For the first time in my life, I'm glad for my human form." Which was quite an admission, for her.
"That means Trent's magic is all-the-way real," Bink said. He doesn't just change the form, he really converts things into other things, if you see what I mean." Then the thing that had nagged at his mind before came clear. "But if magic fades outside Xanth, beyond the narrow magic band beyond the Shield, all we would have to do--"
"Would be to go into Mundania!" she exclaimed, catching on. "In time, we would revert to our proper forms. So it would not be permanent."
"So his transformation ability is a bluff, even though it is real," he said. "He would have to keep us caged right there, or we'd escape and get out of his power. He has to get all the way into Xanth or he really has very little power. No more power than he already has as General of his army-the power to kill."
"All he can get now is the tantalizing taste of real power," she said. "I'll bet he wants to get into Xanth!"
"But meanwhile, we're still in his power."
She set out the bricks, catching the limited sunlight. "What are you going to do?" she asked.
"If he lets me go, I'll travel on into Mundania. That's where I was headed before I was ambushed. One thing Trent has shown me--it is possible to survive out there. But I'll make sure to note my route carefully; it seems Xanth is hard to find from the other direction."
"I meant about the Shieldstone."
"Nothing."
"You won't tell him?"
"No, of course not," he said. "Now we know his magic can't really hurt us worse than his soldiers can, some of the terror is gone. Not that it matters. I don't blame you for telling him."
She looked at him. Her face was still ugly, but there was something special in it now. "You know, you're quite a man, Bink."
"No, I'm nothing much. I have no magic."
"You have magic. You just don't know what it is."
"Same thing."
"I followed you out here, you know."
Her meaning was coming clear. She had heard about him in Xanth, the traveler with no spell. She had known that would be no liability in Mundania. What better match-the man with no magic, the woman with no beauty. Similar liabilities. Perhaps he could get used to her appearance in time; her other qualities were certainly commendable. Except for one thing.
"I understand your position," he said. "But, if you cooperate with the Evil Magician, I won't have anything to do with you, even if he makes you beautiful. Not that it matters--you can get your reward in Xanth when he takes over, if he honors his given word this time."
"You restore my courage," she said. "Let's make a break for it."
"How?"
"The bricks, dummy. They're hard now. As soon as it's dark, we'll make a pile--"
"The grate keeps us in; its door is still locked. A step won't make any difference. If just getting up there were the only problem, I could lift you-"
