Cimorene blinked. “Isn’t that the door you came in through?” she asked Kazul.

Kazul nodded. “Of course.”

“I thought it led out into Morwen’s yard.”

“It leads wherever Morwen wants it to lead,” Kazul said.

“I see,” said Cimorene, wishing her father’s court philosopher were there. He was very pompous and stuffy, particularly about magic, which he claimed was 90 percent trickery and the rest illusion. Cimorene had found him very trying. Dealing with Morwen’s door would probably have given him a headache.

Morwen came back into the kitchen holding a thin red book. “Here it is. I’m sorry it took me so long to find it, but the nonfiction isn’t organized as well as it should be yet.”

Kazul surged to her feet, shedding cats in all directions. The cats gave her reproachful looks and then stalked out the front door with affronted dignity. Kazul paid no attention. She curled her head around to peer at the book over Morwen’s shoulder.

“I suppose you’ll want to borrow it?” Morwen said.

“I certainly do,” Kazul said. “Is there a problem?”

“Only if it gets stolen,” Morwen said. “There are very few of these around, and I’m not sure I could replace it.”

“I’ll keep it in the vault with the treasure,” Kazul promised. “Zemenar won’t think to look for it there, and even if he does, he won’t get in. I’ve got enough anti-wizard spells on the door to stop the whole Society. They can’t get in unless someone invites them.”

“All right,” Morwen said, handing the book to Kazul. “Is that everything you came for?”

“No,” said Kazul. She looked at Morwen with limpid eyes and went on in a plaintive tone, “I still haven’t had any cider.”

Morwen laughed and went to one of the cupboards. She pulled out two mugs and a large mixing bowl and filled them with an amber-colored liquid she poured from a heavy-looking pottery jug. She set the mixing bowl in front of Kazul and gave one of the mugs to Cimorene, then sat down with the second mug herself.

They were in Morwen’s kitchen for over an hour, drinking cider and speculating about what the wizards were up to. After a while several of the cats came back, and Morwen gave them a dish of goat’s milk, which soothed their ruffled feelings somewhat.

“How is that fireproofing spell of yours coming?” Morwen asked as she returned to the table.

“I have everything I need except the powdered hens’ teeth, and I’m beginning to think I’m never going to find any,” Cimorene said. “Kazul has offered to let me look through the jars in the treasury, but if there isn’t any there, I don’t know where I’ll look next.”