Within the shielded area there was a fine greensward rising in soft hillocks, rather like the torso of a woman. Sweet perfume odors wafted through, and the air was pleasantly warm. In short, this was a seemingly ideal place to seek shelter-and that was by design. It had certainly fooled the hephalumph. Obviously this was a good location, for the tangler had grown to enormous girth. But right now they were here rent-free.
"Well, my magic was right all the time," Crombie said. "I should have trusted it. But by the same token " He glanced meaningfully at Dee.
Bink wondered about that. He believed in the soldier's sincerity, and the location magic was obviously functional. Had it malfunctioned in Dee's case, or was she really a bad if obscure threat? If so, what kind? He could not believe she meant him harm. He had suspected her of being Iris the Sorceress, but now he didn't believe that; she showed no sign of the temperament of the mistress of illusion, and personality was not something that magic could conceal for very long.
"Why didn't your magic warn you of the stab in the back?" Bink asked the soldier, making another attempt to ascertain what was reliable and what was not.
"I didn't ask it," Crombie said. "I was a damned fool. But once I see you safely to your Magician, I'll sure as hell ask it who stabbed me, and then " He fingered the blade of his sword meaningfully.
A fair answer. The talent was not a warning signal; it merely performed on demand. Crombie had obviously had no reason to suspect danger, any more than Bink had reason to feel threatened now. Where was the distinction between natural caution and paranoia?
The storm continued. None of them were willing to sleep, because they did not trust the tree to that extent, so they sat and talked. Crombie told a tough story of ancient battle and heroism in the days of Xanth's Fourth Wave. Bink was no military man, but he found himself caught up in the gallantry of it, and almost wished he had lived in those adventurous times, when men of no magic were considered men.
By the end of that story, the storm had eased off, but the hail was piled so high that it didn't seem worthwhile to go out yet. Usually the meltoff from a magic storm was quite rapid once the sun came out again, so it was worth waiting for.
"Where do you live?" Bink asked Dee.
"Oh, I'm just a country girl, you know," she said. "No one else was going to travel through the wilderness."
"That's no answer," Crombie snapped suspiciously.
She shrugged. "It's the only answer I have. I can't change what I am, much as I might like to."
"It's the same answer I have, too," Bink said. "I'm just a villager, nothing special. I hope the Magician will be able to make me into something special, by finding out that I have some good magic talent no one ever suspected, and I'm willing to work for him for a year for that."
"Yes," she said, smiling appreciatively at him. Suddenly he felt himself liking her. She was ordinary-like him. She was motivated-like him. They had something in common.
"You're going for magic so your girl back home will marry you?" Crombie asked, sounding cynical.
"Yes," Bink agreed, remembering Sabrina with sudden poignancy. Dee turned away. "And so I can stay in Xanth."
"You're a fool, a civilian fool," the soldier said kindly.
"Well, it's the only chance I have," Bink replied. "Any gamble is worthwhile when the alternative-"
"I don't mean the magic. That's useful. And staying in Xanth makes sense. I mean marriage."
"Marriage?"
"Women are the curse of mankind," Crombie said vehemently. "They trap men into marriage, the way this tangle tree traps prey, and they torment them the rest of their lives."
"Now that's unfair," Dee said. "Didn't you have a mother?"
"She drove my worthy father to drink and loco," Crombie asserted. "Made his life hell on earth-and mine too. She could read our minds-that was her talent.''
A woman who could read men's minds: hell indeed for a man! If any woman had been able to read Bink's mind-ugh!
"Must have been hell for her, too," Dee observed.
Bink suppressed a smile, but Crombie scowled. "I ran off and joined the army two years before I was of age. Never regretted it."
Dee frowned. "You don't sound like God's gift to women, either. We can all be thankful you never touched any."
"Oh, I touch them," Crombie said with a coarse laugh. "I just don't marry them. No one of them's going to get her hooks into me."
"You're disgusting," she snapped.
"I'm smart. And if Bink's smart, he'll not let you start tempting him, either."
"I wasn't!" she exclaimed angrily.
Crombie turned away in evident repugnance. "Ah, you're all the same. Why do I waste my time talking with the likes of you? Might as well argue ethics with the devil."
"Well, if you feel that way, I'll go!" Dee said. She jumped to her feet and stalked to the edge.
Bink thought she was bluffing, for the storm, though abating, was still in force with occasional flurries. Colored hailstones were mounded up two feet high, and the sun was not yet out.
But Dee plunged out into it.
"Hey, wait!" Bink cried. He ran after her.
Dee had disappeared, hidden by the storm. "Let her go, good riddance," Crombie said. "She had designs on you; I know how they work. I knew she was trouble from the start."
Bink put his arms up over his head and face against the hail and stepped out. His feet slid out from under, skidding on hailstones, and he fell headlong into the pile. Hailstones closed in over his head. Now he knew what had happened to Dee. She was buried somewhere out here.
He had to close his eyes, for powder from crushed stones was getting into them. This was not tree ice, but coalesced vapor, magic; the stones were dry and not really cold. But they were slippery.
Something caught his foot. Bink kicked violently, remembering the sea monster near the island of the Sorceress, forgetting that it had been an illusion and that there could hardly be a sea monster here. But its grip was tight; it dragged him into an enclosure.
He scrambled to his feet as it let go. He leaped on the troll shape he saw through the film of dust,
Bink found himself flying through the air. He landed hard on his back, the creature drawing on his arm. Trolls were tough! He squirmed around and tried to grab its legs-but the thing dropped on top of him and pinned him firmly to the ground. "Ease up, Bink," it said. "It's me-Crombie."
Bink did as much of a double-take as he was able to, considering his position, and recognized the soldier.
Crombie let him up. "I knew you'd never find your way out of that mess, so I hauled you out by the one part I could reach, your foot. You had magic dust in your eyes, so you couldn't recognize me. Sorry I had to put you down."
Magic dust-of course. It distorted the vision, making men seem like trolls, ogres, or worse-and vice versa. It was an additional hazard of such storms, so that people could not see their way out of them. Probably many victims had seen the tangle tree as an innocent blanket tree. "That's okay," Bink said. "You soldiers sure know how to fight."