Chapter 13
Magic Loss
Instantly the Demon burst loose. The seeping magic of X(A/N)th immediate environment was as nothing compared to the full magic of his release. There was a blinding effulgence, a deafening noise, and an explosion that threw Bink across the cavern. He crashed jarringly into a wall. As his senses cleared be perceived the collapse of the cavern in slow-motion sight and sound. Huge stones crunched to the floor and shattered into sand. All the world seemed to be collapsing into the space left by the Demon, This was a demise Bink had not anticipated: not willful destruction by X(A/N)th, not the tedium of loss of magic, but careless extinction in the wake of the Demon's departure. It was true: the Demon didn't care.
Now, as the dust clouded in to choke him and the only light was from the sparks of colliding rocks, Bink wondered: what had he done? Why hadn't he heeded the brain coral's warning, and left the Demon alone? Why hadn't he yielded to his love for Jewel, and-
Even in the ongoing carnage, while expecting momentary conclusion of his life, this made him pause in surprise. Love? Not so! He was out of love with Jewel!
That meant the magic really was gone. The love potion had been nullified. His talent would no longer protect him. The Land of Xanth was now one with Mundania.
Bink closed his eyes and cried. There was a great deal of dust in the air that needed washing out of his eyes, and he was wrackingly afraid, but it was more than that. He was crying for Xanth. He had destroyed the uniqueness of the world he knew; even if he survived this cave-in, how could he live with that?
He did not know how the society he had belonged to would react. What would happen to the dragons and tangle trees and zombies? How could the people live, without magic? It was as if the entire population had abruptly been exiled to the drear realm of no-talents.
The action abated. Bink found himself grimed with rock powder, bruised, but with limbs and sword intact Miraculously, he had survived.
Had anyone else? He peered through the rubble. Dun light descended from a hole far above, evidently the Demon's route of departure. X(A/N)th must simply have shot up and out, forging his path heedlessly through the rock. What power!
"Magician! Jewel!" Bink cried, but there was no answer. The fall of stone had been so complete that only his own section remained even partially clear. His talent must have saved him, just before it faded. He could not depend on it any more, however; it was evident that spells had been the first magic to go.
He stepped out over the rubble. More dust swirled up; it coated everything. Bink realized that though he thought he had been aware of the whole process of the Demon's departure, he could actually have been unconscious for some time. So much dust had settled! Yet he had no bruise on his head, and no headache. Yet again, the physical and magical explosion of the Demon's release could account for many incongruous effects.
"Magician!" he called again, knowing it was futile. He, Bink, had survived-but his friends had lacked his critical protection at the key moment. Somewhere beneath this slope of stone
He spied a glint, a wan reflection, only a glimmer between two dusky rocks. He pried them apart, and there it was: the bottle containing Crombie. Strewn across it was a bit of rag. Bink picked up the bottle, letting the cloth fall-and saw that it was what remained of Grundy the golem. The little man-figure had owed its animation to magic; now he was just a limp wad of material.
Bink closed his eyes again, experiencing another chill seizure of grief. He had done what he had felt was right-but he had not truly reckoned the consequence. Fine points of morality were intangible; life and death were tangible. By what right had he condemned these creatures to death? Was it moral for him to slay them in the name of his morality?
He put the cloth in his pocket along with the bottle. Evidently the golem's last act had been to grab the bottle, protecting it with his body. That had been effective, and so Grundy had given up his life for that of the griffin he served. He had cared, and therefore achieved his reality-just in time to have it dashed by circumstance. Where was the morality in that?
Startled by another thought, Bink drew out the bottle again. Was Crombie still in there? In what form? With magic gone, he could be dead-unless some magic remained corked in the bottle-
Better not open it! Whatever lingering chance Crombie had, resided in that bottle. If he were loosed and the magic dissipated into the air-would Crombie emerge as a man again, or a griffin, or a bottle-sized compressed mass? Bink had just gambled enormously, freeing the Demon; he was not about to gamble similarly with the life of his friend. He repocketed the bottle.
How drear it was, this depth of the hole. Alone with a bottle, and a defunct golem and his own mortification. The ethical principle on which he had based his decision was opaque to him now. The Demon Xanth had lain prisoner for over a thousand years. He could have lain for another century or so without harm, couldn't he?
Bink discovered he was not at the bottom of the hole, after all. The rubble opened into a deeper hole, and at the bottom was dark water. The lake! But the level had lowered drastically; now the dank gray convolutions of a formerly submerged structure lay dimly revealed. The brain coral! It, too, was dead; it could not exist without the potent magic of the Demon.
"I fear you were right, Coral," Bink said sadly.
"You let me through, and I destroyed you. You and our world."
He smelled smoke-not the clean fresh odor of a healthy blaze, but the smoldering foulness of incompletely burning vegetation. Evidently the Demon's departure had ignited some brush, assuming there was brush down here underground. The intense magic must have done it, leaving behind a real fire. It probably would not burn far, here deep in the ground, but it certainly was stinking up the place.
Then he heard a delicate groan. Surely not the coral! He scrambled toward the sound-and found Jewel wedged In a vertical crevice, bleeding from a gash on the head, but definitely alive. Hastily he drew her out, half-carrying her to a brighter place. He propped her up against a rock and patted her face with his fingertips, trying to bring her to consciousness. She stirred. "Don't wake me, Bink. Let me die in peace."
"I've killed everyone else," he said sullenly. "At least you will be able to-"
"To return to my job? I can't do it without magic." There was something strange about her. Bink concentrated and it came: "You don't smell!"
"It was magic," she said. She sighed. "If I'm alive, I'm alive, I suppose. But I really do wish you'd let me die."
"Let you die! I wouldn't do that! I-" She glanced up at him cannily. Even through the blood-caked dust on her face, she was lovely. "The magic is gone. You don't love me any more."
"Still, I owe it to you to get you home," Bink said. He looked up, trying to decide on the most feasible route, and did not see her enigmatic reaction.
They checked through the rubble a little longer, but could not find the Magician. Bink was relieved, in a fashion; now he could hope that Humfrey had survived, and had departed before him.
Bink peered up at the Demon's exit. "We'll never make it up there," he said glumly. "Too much of it is sheer cliff."
"I know a way," Jewel said. "It will be difficult, without the diggle, but there are natural passages-oh!" She broke off suddenly.
There was a monster barring the way. It resembled a dragon, but lacked wings and fire. It was more like a very large serpent with legs.