"Oh, yes," Chester agreed, flexing his needles eloquently. "The mischief of Good Queen Iris, the bitch-Sorceress. Have you found a way into the palace yet?"

       "No. In fact, I ran into a-" But Bink wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the sword just yet "A zombie."

       "A zombie!" Chester laughed. "Pity the poor oaf in that costume!"

       A costume! Of course! The zombie had not been real; it had merely been another of the Queen's illusion-costumes. Bink had reacted as shortsightedly as Chester, fleeing it before discovering its identity. And thereby encountering the sword, which certainly had not been either costume or illusion. "Well, I don't much like this game anyway," he said.

       "I don't go for the game either," Chester agreed. "But the prize-that is worth a year of my life."

       "By definition," Bink agreed morosely. "One Question Answered by the Good Magician Humfrey-free. But everyone's competing for it; someone else will win."

       "Not if we get hoofing!" Chester said. "Let's go unmask the zombie before it gets away!"

       "Yes," Bink agreed, embarrassed by his previous reaction.

       They passed the sword, still stuck in the tree. "Finders keepers!" Chester exclaimed happily, and put his hand to it.

       "That's a gluebark; it won't let go."

       But the centaur had already grasped the sword and yanked. Such was his strength there was a shower of bark and wood. But the sword did not come free.

       "Hm," Chester said. "Look, tree-we have a glue-bark in Centaur Village. During the drought I watered it every day, so it survived. Now all I ask in return is this sword, that you have no use for."

       The sword came free. Chester tucked it into his quiver of arrows, fastening it in place with a loop of the coil of rope he also carried. Or so Bink guessed, observing the contortions of the cactus. Bink had put a hand to his own sword, half-fearing a renewal of hostilities, but the other weapon was quiescent. Whatever had animated it was gone.