In the mirror, Trent charged, running at the tail of the monster, grabbing it with his bare hands, causing it to whirl on him furiously. Both heads had struck-and the thing had abruptly become another caterpillar. A two-headed caterpillar.
Roland whirled. For an instant the two men looked into each other's eyes, their deadly talents equivalent at this range. They seemed very similar to each other. Then Roland squinted, and Trent froze in place. The stun had scored before the transformation.
Or had it? Trent never even tried to resist, Bink thought futilely. He could have transformed my father instead of the serpent-or simply let the serpent strike.
"Elders, have you seen enough?" Humfrey inquired gently.
If I could have the throne of Xanth at the expense of Trent's life, I would not take it, Bink thought savagely. The trial had been a farce; they had never let Trent speak for himself, to present his eloquent thesis of the damage magic was doing to the human population of Xanth, or of the threat of a future attack from Mundania. Were they going to dispose of him the same way they had exiled Bink? Thoughtlessly, by rote law, regardless of the meaning behind the facts?
The Elders exchanged glances gravely. Each nodded slowly, affirmatively.
At least let him talk! Bink cried mutely.
"Then it would be best to release the spell," Humfrey said. "He must be free of magic for the denouement, as is our custom."
Thank God!
Roland snapped his fingers. Trent moved. "Thank you, honorable Elders of Xanth," he said politely. "You have granted me a fair presentation, and I stand ready to accept your judgment."
Trent wasn't even defending himself. This horrendously partial, silent investigation, obviously a mere ritual to justify a decision privately arrived at-how could the Evil Magician lend credibility to that?
"We find you guilty of violating exile," Roland said. "For this the set penalty is death. But we are in a unique situation, and you have changed substantially since we knew you. You always had courage, intelligence, and strong magic; now you are also possessed of loyalty, honor, and mercy. I am not unmindful that you spared the life of my son, who had foolishly challenged you, and that you protected his chosen one from the ravages of wild beasts. You have some guilt in these matters, but you expiated it. We therefore waive the set penalty and grant you leave to remain in Xanth, under two conditions."
They were not going to kill Trent. Bink almost danced for joy. But immediately he realized that there would still be stringent restrictions, to prevent Trent from ever again aspiring to the throne. Humfrey had mentioned blinding him, so that he would be unable to perform his magic. Bink had some idea of what a life without magic would be like. Trent would be forced to assume some menial occupation, working out his days in ignobility. The Elders were generally old, but not necessarily gentle; no smart citizen ever crossed them twice.
Trent bowed his head. "I thank you sincerely, Elders. I accept your conditions. What are they?"
But there was so much more to be said! To treat this fine man as a common criminal, to force his agreement to this terrible retribution-and Trent was not even protesting.
"First," Roland said, "that you marry."
Trent looked up, startled. "I can understand a requirement that I reverse all prior transformations and desist from any future exercise of my talent-but what has marriage to do with it?"
"You are presuming," Roland said grimly. And Bink thought: Trent hasn't caught on. They have no need to make restrictions-if they blind him. He will be helpless.
"I apologize, Elder. I will marry. What is the other condition?"
Now it comes! Bink wished he could blot out the sounds, as if by failing to hear the words of the sentence he could alleviate it. But that was not his type of magic talent.
"That you accept the throne of Xanth."
Bink's beak fell open. So did Chameleon's mouth. Trent stood as if stun-frozen again.
Then Roland bent one knee and slowly dropped to the ground. The other Elders followed, silently.
"The King, you see, is dead," Humfrey explained. "It is essential to have a good man and strong Magician in the office, one who has the demeanor of command coupled with restraint and perspective, yet who will muster savagery when necessary in the defense of Xanth. As in the event of a wiggle invasion or similar threat. One who may also provide a potential heir, so that Xanth is not again caught in the difficult situation just past. It is not necessary to like such a monarch, but we must have him. I obviously do not qualify, for I could hardly bring myself to devote the required attention to the details of governance; the Sorceress Iris would be unsuitable even if she were not female, because of her lack of restraint; and the only other person of Magician caliber has neither personality nor talent appropriate to the needs of the crown. Therefore, Xanth needs you, Magician. You can not refuse." And Humfrey, too, bent his knee.
The Evil Magician, evil no longer, bowed his head in mute acceptance. He had conquered Xanth after all.
The ceremony of coronation was splendid. The centaur contingent marched with dazzling precision, and from all over Xanth people and intelligent beasts came to attend. Magician Trent, henceforth the Transformer King, took both crown and bride together, and both were radiant.
There were of course some sly remarks at the fringe of the spectator crowd, but most citizens agreed that the King had chosen wisely. "If she's too old to bear an heir, they can adopt a Magician-caliber boy." "After all, he's the only one who can control her, and he'll never suffer from lack of variety." "And it eliminates the last real threat to the kingdom." They were not yet aware of the other formidable external and internal threats.
Bink, restored to his natural form, stood alone, contemplating the place where Justin Tree once stood. He was glad for Trent, and certain the man would make a fine King. Yet he suffered also from a certain anticlimactic disappointment. What would he, Bink, do now?
Three youths passed, one middle-aged. Zink, Jama, and Potipher. They were chastened, their eyes downcast. They knew that the days of wild nuisance were over; with the new King in power, they would have to behave-or else be transformed.
Then two centaurs trotted up. "So glad to see you, Bink!" Cherie exclaimed. "Isn't it wonderful you weren't exiled after all? She nudged her companion. "Isn't it, Chester?"
Chester forced his face into a tortured smile. "Yeah, sure," he mumbled.
"You must come and visit us," Cherie continued brightly. "Chester speaks so often of you."
Chester made a little throttling motion with his two powerful hands. "Yeah, sure," he repeated, more brightly.
Bink changed the subject. "Did you know, I met Herman the Hermit in the wilderness," he said. "He died a hero. He used his magic-" Bink paused, remembering that the centaurs regarded magic in a centaur as obscene. That would probably change, once Trent publicized the knowledge gained from the Castle Roogna archives. "He organized the campaign that wiped out the wiggle swarm before it infested all of Xanth. I hope Herman's name will be honored among your kind in future."