Cimorene looked at the page Alianora was holding. “‘Thus these Caves of Fire and Night are, in some sense, indivisible, whereas the Caves of Chance are, by contrast, individual, though it is preposterous to claim that these descriptions are true of either group of caves in their entirety . . . ’ That’s one of the bits I copied word for word; the whole book is like that. I think it means that if you have a piece of something magical from the Caves of Fire and Night, you can use it in a spell as if it were the whole thing.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t be sure,” Alianora said. “Do you think it would help you figure things out if you stopped for a while?”

“I have stopped,” Cimorene pointed out. “Or did you have something more specific in mind?”

“I’m almost out of feverfew,” Alianora said, looking down at the table. “I was hoping you’d come with me to pick some more.”

“You’re almost out?” Cimorene said in surprise. “How did that happen?”

Alianora shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been working that fireproofing spell every hour or so for the past two days,” she admitted. “Woraug has been getting more and more unpredictable, and I don’t feel comfortable otherwise. Hallanna was visiting yesterday when he came in—in the middle of the afternoon!—and he was roaring and dripping little bits of flame when he breathed. She was terrified, and I don’t blame her. If it weren’t for the spell, I’d be scared to death.”

“What’s the matter with him?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me anything about dragon politics or wizards or what he’s been getting so worked up about. He’s not like Kazul.”

Cimorene frowned, considering. “Maybe Kazul will have some idea what’s bothering him. I’ll ask her this evening. In the meantime, let’s go get that feverfew. You’re right to say that I could use a break.”

“Oh, good,” said Alianora in tones of considerable relief. “I’ve never picked herbs before, and I’m not sure what feverfew looks like. I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d said you wouldn’t come.”

Cimorene put her notes away and got two wicker baskets and a small knife from one of the storage rooms. “Up or down?” Alianora asked as they left the cave.

“Up,” Cimorene said. “The other way is the ledge I told you about, and I wouldn’t be surprised if bits of it are still invisible.”

The path through the Pass of Silver Ice twisted and turned past the openings of other dragons’ caves. Most of the rocks around the caves had scorch marks, and Cim­orene and Alianora didn’t see much growing among them.

“At this rate, we’ll have to go nearly all the way to the Enchanted Forest to find any grass, much less herbs!” Alianora complained.