"Well, anyway, we'll get homesteads and settle in. And our kids will be magic. I tell you, it's that last that recruited me. I don't believe in magic, understand-or I didn't then-but I remember the fairy tales from when I was a little tyke, about the princess and the frog, and the mountain of glass, and the three wishes--well, look, I was a metalworker for a crooked shop, know what I mean? And I really wanted out of the rat race."
Bink shook his head silently. He understood only part of what the sailor was saying, but it did not make Mundania look very good. Stores that were built off balance, crooked? Rats that raced? Bink would want to get out of that culture, too.
"A chance to have a decent life in the country," the sailor continued, and there was no question about his dedication to his vision. "Owning my own land, making good things grow, you know? And my kids knowing magic, real magic-I guess I still don't really believe that part, but even if it's a lie, you know, it's sure nice to think about."
"But to invade a foreign land, to take what doesn't belong to you-" Fanchon said. She broke off, evidently certain that it was pointless to debate that sort of thing with a sailor. "He'll betray you the moment he doesn't need you. He's an Evil Magician, exiled from Xanth."
"You mean he really can do magic?" the man asked with happy disbelief. "I figured all this stuff was sleight of hand, you know, when I really thought about it. I mean, I believed some of the time, but-"
''He sure as hell can do magic," Bink put in, becoming acclimatized to the sailor's language. "We told you how he changed us-"
"Never mind about that," Fanchon said.
"Well, he's still a good leader," the sailor insisted. "He told us how he was kicked out twenty years ago because he tried to be King, and how he lost his magic, and married a gal from here and had a little boy-"
"Trent has a family in Mundania?" Bink asked, amazed.
"We don't call our country that," the sailor said. "But yes-he had a family. Until this mystery bug went around-some kind of flu, I think, or maybe food poisoning-and they both got it and died. He said science hadn't been able to save them, but magic could have, so he was going back to magicland. Xanth, you call it. But they'd kill him if he just walked in alone, even if he got by the thing he called a Shield. So he needed an army-oooh!" Fanchon had finished her work and heaved his shoulder up onto a pillow.
So they had the sailor as comfortable as was feasible, his shoulder bound up in stray cloths. Bink would have liked to hear more of the man's unique viewpoint. But time had passed, and it was apparent that the other ship was gaining on them. They traced its progress by its sail, which moved laterally, back and forth, zigzagging against the wind-and with each pass it was closer. They had been wrong about the capabilities of ships in adverse wind. How much else were they wrong about?
Bink went into the cabin. He was feeling a bit seasick now, but he held it down. "Jennifer," he said hesitantly, proffering some of the dog food they had found. The small spotted monster wagged her tail. Just like that, they were friends. Bink screwed up his courage and patted her on the head, and she did not bite him. Then, while she ate, he opened the chest she had guarded so ferociously and lifted out the vial of greenish fluid he found therein, in a carefully padded box. Victory!
"Miss," the sailor called as Bink emerged with the vial. "The Shield-"
Fanchon looked about nervously. "Is the current carrying us into that?"
"Yes, miss. I wouldn't interfere, but if you don't turn this boat soon, we'll all be dead. I know that Shield works; I've seen animals try to go through it and get fried."
"How can we tell where it is?" she asked.
"There's a glimmer. See?" He pointed with difficulty. Bink peered and saw it. They were drifting toward a curtain of faint luminescence, ghostly white. The Shield!
The ship progressed inexorably. "We can't stop it," Fanchon cried. "We're going right through."
"Throw down the anchor!" the sailor said.
What else was there to do? The Shield was certain death. Yet to stop meant capture by Trent's forces. Even bluffing them back by means of the vial of elixir would not suffice; the ship remained a kind of prison.
"We can use the lifeboat," Fanchon said. "Give me the vial."
Bink gave it to her, then threw over the anchor. The ship slowly turned as the anchor took hold. The Shield loomed uncomfortably close-but so did the pursuing ship. Now it was clear why it was using the wind instead of the current; it was under control, in no danger of drifting into the Shield.
They lowered the lifeboat. A reflector lamp from the other ship bathed them in its light. Fanchon held the vial aloft. "I'll drop it!" she screamed at the enemy. "Hit me with an arrow-the elixir drowns with me."
"Give it back," Trent's voice called from the other ship. "I pledge to let you both go free."
