pell For Chameleon

They entered Roogna. All six ghosts greeted them in the front hall, every one in full human shape. Milly quickly popped off to notify the Queen of the King's arrival.

Iris and Chameleon swept up together, wearing castle tunics and slippers. The Sorceress was in her natural form, but so neatly garbed and coiffed that she was not unattractive, and Chameleon was almost back to her "center" stage, average in both appearance and intellect.

The Queen made no pretense of affection for Trent; it had been a marriage of convenience, as anticipated. But her pleasure in the position and her excitement about the castle were obviously genuine.

"This place is marvelous!" Iris exclaimed. "Chameleon has been showing me around, and the ghosts instructed our toilettes. All the room and grandeur I ever wanted-and it's all real. And it wants so much to please-I know I'm going to love it here."

"That's good," Trent said gravely. "Now put on your pretty face; we are entertaining company."

The middle-aged woman was instantly replaced by a stunningly smooth and buxom young woman with a low d colletage. "I just didn't want to embarrass Chameleon-you know, in her 'average' phase."

"You cannot embarrass her in any phase. Now apologize to Bink."

Iris made a breathtaking curtsy to Bink. She was ready to do anything to remain Queen-and human. Trent could make her into a warty toad--or he could make her into the very figure she now resembled. He could probably make her young enough to bear a child, the heir to the throne. Trent was the master, and Iris seemed to lack even the inclination to question this. "I'm sorry, Bink, I really am. I just got carried away there during the duel, and after. I didn't know you were going to fetch the Elders, to make Trent King."

Bink hadn't known that either. "Forget it, Your Majesty,'' he said uncomfortably. He looked at Chameleon, so close now to Dee, the girl he had liked from the outset despite Crombie's dire warnings. A fit of shyness overcame him.

"Go ahead, get it over with," Trent muttered in his ear. "She's smart enough now."

Bink thought about how much of his adventure had centered around Chameleon's quest for a spell to make her normal-when she really was quite satisfactory, and even somewhat challenging, as she was. How many people similarly spent their lives searching for their own spells--some gratuitous benefit such as a silver tree or political power or undeserved acclaim--when all they really needed was to be satisfied with what they already had? Sometimes what they had was better than what they thought they wanted. Chameleon had thought she wanted to be normal; Trent had thought he wanted armed conquest; and Bink himself had thought he wanted a demonstrable magic talent. Everyone thought he wanted something. But Bink's real quest, at the end, had been to preserve Chameleon and Trent and himself as they were, and to make Xanth accept them that way.

He had not wanted to take advantage of Chameleon in her stupid phase. He wanted to be sure she understood the full implications, before he--before he-Something tickled his nose. Embarrassingly, he sneezed.

Iris nudged Chameleon with her elbow.

"Yes, of course I'll marry you, Bink," Chameleon said.

Trent guffawed. Then Bink was kissing her-his ordinary, extraordinary girl. She had found her spell, all right; she had cast it over him. It was the same as Crombie's curse-love.

And at last Bink understood the meaning of his omen: he was the hawk who had carried away Chameleon. She would never get free.

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