The difficulty with the goblins was that they had the intelligence of men and the scruples of rodents. They slunk just out of sight, but they were not cowards. It was simply that no one, three, or six of them could stand up to Bink's sword, and there was not room for a greater number of them to approach him at one time. So they stayed clear-without giving up.
"I think they know I freed the Demon," Bink muttered. "They're out for revenge. I don't blame them."
"You did what you believed was right!" Jewel flared.
He put his arm about her slender waist. "And you are doing what you believe is right, helping me reach the surface-even though we both know I was wrong. I have destroyed the magic of Xanth."
"No, you weren't wrong," she said. "You had empathy for the Demon, and-"
He squeezed her. "Thank you for saying that. Do you mind if I-" He stopped. "I forgot! I'm not in love with you any more!"
"I don't mind anyway," she said.
But he let her go, embarrassed. There was an evil cackle of laughter from a goblin, Bink stooped to pick up a stone to hurl at the creature, but of course it missed.
Bink armed himself with a number of rocks, and hurled one every time he saw a goblin. Soon he got remarkably accurate, and the goblins gave him a wider berth. Stones had a special magic that had nothing to do with real magic; they were hard and sharp and plentiful, and Bink had a much better arm than any goblin possessed. Still, they did not give up. Beauregard's warning had been accurate: Bink had not encountered goblins as brave and tenacious as these before.
Bink wanted to rest, for he was tired, but dared not. If he rested, he might sleep, and that could be disaster. Of course he could have Jewel watch while he slept-but she was after all only a nymph-rather, a young woman, and he was afraid the goblins would overwhelm her in such a situation. Her fate in goblin hands would probably be worse than his.
He glanced at her covertly. This rough trek was taking its toll. Her hair had lost its original sparkle and hung in lusterless straggles. She reminded him somewhat of Chameleon-but not in her beauty phase. They dragged on, and made progress. Near the surface the ascent became more difficult. "There's not much communication with the topworld," Jewel gasped. "This is the best route-but how you climb it without wings or a rope I don't know."
Bink didn't know either. If this had been a convenient route, Crombie's talent would have pointed it out on the way in. The day sky was visible through a crack in the ground above-but the walls sloped in from the broader cavern-space below, and they were slick with moisture. Impossible to climb, without magic.
"We can't stay here long," Jewel said worriedly. 'There's a tangle tree near the exit, and its roots can get ornery." She stopped short, startled. "I'm still doing it! Without magic-"
That was why Crombie's talent hadn't pointed this way, he realized. A tangler! But the bad magic was gone with the good. "Let's go!" he cried.
He found the tangle roots and ripped them out of the rock, and severed them where they would not come free. Quickly he knotted them into a strong if ragged rope. Tangle roots were strong; they were made for holding struggling prey fast. No question: this rope would hold his weight!
"But how can we get it up there?" Jewel asked anxiously.
"There's a major tangle root-trunk crossing at the narrowest section," Bink said. "See, right up there." He pointed.
She looked. "I never noticed! I must have been here half a dozen times before, teasing the tangler and wondering what the world above was like. I was supposed to be planting gems " Her nymphly confession trailed off. "You certainly are observant."
"You certainly are complimentary. Don't worry; you will get to see the surface world this time. I won't leave you until you're safe on the surface and in good hands. Maybe at the magic-dust village."
She looked away, not answering. He glanced at her, peering through the smoke of the smoldering weed rope she held, concerned. "Did I say something wrong?"
She looked back at him with sudden decision. "Bink, you remember when we first met?"
He laughed. "How could I forget! You were so beautiful, and I was so grimy-almost as grimy as we both are now! And I had just taken the-" He shrugged, not wanting to get into the embarrassing matter of the love potion again. "You know, I'm almost sad that's over. You're an awfully nice nymph, and without your help-"
"You loved me then, and I didn't love you," she said. "You were devious, and I was simple. You lured me in close, then grabbed me and kissed me."
Bink fidgeted. "I'm sorry, Jewel. I-it won't happen again."
"That's what you think," she said, and flung her arms about him and planted a passionate kiss on his half-open mouth. Dirty as she was, it was still a remarkable experience; almost he felt the tug of the love potion again. He had loved her before without knowing her; now he knew her and understood her nymphly limitations and respected her for trying so hard to overcome them, and he liked her more than was entirely proper. A genuine affection had been developing beneath the artificial love, and that affection remained. What would Chameleon think, if she saw this embrace?
Jewel released him. "Turnabout's fair play," she said. "I am more complex than I was a few hours ago, and you are simpler. Now get on up your rope."
What did she mean by that? Bemused, Bink weighted the rope with a solid rock and lofted it up toward the root-trunk. It fell short, because of the weight of the rope. He tried again, harder, but the rope was still too heavy. It dragged steadily, its weight becoming greater as the rock got higher. Finally he made a wad out of the rope and hurled the mass of it up; this time it got there-and fell back, having failed to pass over the root. But he was making progress, and after several more tries he got it over. The rock fell down, hauling the rope after it. It snagged before the rock came down within reach, but several jerks on the other end of the rope freed it. Bink knotted the ends together, forming a complete loop of rope that could not come loose.
"I can climb this first, then you can sit in the loop and I'll haul you up," he said. He knew there was no chance of her climbing by herself; her arms were too delicate. "Blow the torch up high, so the goblins won't come too close."
She nodded. Bink took a few deep breaths, feeling his worn system revving up in anticipation of this final effort. Then he took hold and began to climb the rope.
It started out better than he had feared, but soon got worse. His arms tired quickly, since they had been none too fresh to begin with. He clamped his legs about the rope, hanging on, to give his arms a rest, but they recovered reluctantly. Oh for some healing elixir! Still, Jewel was waiting, and so were the rats and goblins; he could not afford to delay too long. Excruciatingly he dragged himself up with smaller and smaller wrenches. His breath rasped, his head felt light, and his arms seemed to turn into waterlogged wood just beyond the elbows, but he kept moving.
So suddenly it seemed a miracle, he was at the top. Maybe his mind had simply gone a bit dead too, cutting out the agony of the continuing effort, and revived when he arrived. He clung to the big root, which was somewhat furry: the better to grip its prey, perhaps, He had never, before this adventure, anticipated gladly embracing a tangle tree!
He swung a leg over, missed, and felt himself falling. It was almost a relief, this relaxation! But the rope was still there, and he wrapped himself about it and hung, panting. So little to go, so hard to do!