Cimorene said. "It would solve your money problems for sure. Special schools are always horribly expensive. You could charge the parents of your children for just the training part, and take on a few more kids at training plus full room and board."
The dwarfs eyes gleamed at the idea, but then his face fell. "what about my spinning?" he said. "It's a family tradition."
Cimorene rolled her eyes. "Haven't you done enough of that already?"
"Well-" "I have an idea about that, too," Mendanbar put in. "The problem with the spell is that you can't spin for yourself or for anyone who's your responsibility, right?"
"That's it in a nutshell," the dwarf said. "And there's nothing to be done about it."
'"what if you set up a scholarship fund?" Mendanbar said. "I'll bet a really good lawyer could design one that would get around the spell's restrictions so you could spin for it." Good thing. And if that doesn't work, you could spin for other scholarship funds and only take part of the gold, the way you usually do."
"I never thought of spinning for a fund," the dwarf said in wonder.
"You think about it, then," Mendanbar said. "We have to go."
"Yes," said Cimorene. "I won't feel quite comfortable until I know Kazul is out of that bubble. Thank you again."
They left the dwarf in the doorway, muttering to himself about rooms and expenses, and walked over to the rolled-up carpet.
Mendanbar looked at it with distaste, remembering their wild ride. He hoped Cimorene wasn't going to insist on using it right away. His stomach hadn't completely settled from the last time. He turned his head. Cimorene was looking at him with a wary expression.
"Let's carry it for a while," she suggested. "The children are probably watching, and we shouldn't give them ideas."
"Right," Mendanbar said with relief. "Do you want the front end or the back?"
Cimorene took the back end, and they hoisted the carpet to their shoulders and started off. Walking with the carpet was surprisingly easy.
Cimorene was a good match for Mendanbar in height, and she was quite strong. Mendanbar supposed it must be from carrying around dragon-sized servings of lamb and beef, and before he thought, he said as much.
"Actually, it's the chocolate mousse and cherries jubilee," Cimorene said.
"I didn't think chocolate mousse was particularly heavy."
"It is when you've got a bucket full of it in each hand," Cimorene retorted.
"Oh," said Mendanbar. "Yes, I suppose it would be."
He was trying to figure out how much a bucket of mousse would weigh when the carpet jerked suddenly. Mendanbar grabbed at it, thinking Oh, no, it's going to start dancing around on its own-Then he realized that the carpet had jerked because Cimorene had stopped. He looked reproachfully over his shoulder.
"It's time for lunch," Cimorene said. "All this talk about food is making me hungry, and I don't want to have to face a lot of wizards on an empty stomach."
Now that she mentioned it, he was hungry, too. "Good idea," Mendanbar said with enthusiasm. "And this looks like a nice spot to stop.
Will you serve, or shall I?"
Cimorene laughed. They set the rolled-up carpet on a stretch of grass between two pines and got out Ballimore's package, then sat down to see what the giantess had sent along with them. It was, as Mendanbar had expected, an enormous quantity of food-seven fat pastries stuffed with chicken and herbs, a large bottle of cold spring water, a round loaf of bread and a generous wedge of yellow cheese, four large red apples, and a small box filled with a wonderful, creamy chocolate fudge.
"My goodness," Cimorene said when they had unpacked everything.
"Ballimore certainly believes in feeding people well. Look at all of this!"
No, no," Mendanbar said, picking up one of the pastries and handing it to Cimorene. "Don't look at it. Eat it."
"I wonder where she got the fudge," Cimorene mused. "Everything else is probably from the Cauldron of Plenty, but it doesn't do desserts very well."
"Maybe she made it herself."
"I hope so." Cimorene smiled at Mendanbar's look of surprise. "If she did, I can ask her for the recipe."
By an unspoken mutual agreement, neither Mendanbar nor Cimorene mentioned Kazul or the wizards during lunch, though they were both certainly thinking about them. Instead, they had a pleasant talk about some of the odd and interesting people they had each met over the past few years.
Cimorene knew a lot of unusual folk. Many of them were dragons, of course, but her position as Kazul's Chief Cook and Librarian meant that she had also met most of the visitors from outside the Mountains of Morning who came to pay their respects to the Kin g of the Dragons or to ask her questions.
Near the end of the meal, Mendanbar noticed that Cimorene was gazing intently at him. No, not at him: at his sword.
"What is it?" Mendanbar asked worriedly.
"Have you been doing things with that sword again?" Cimorene demanded.
"No," Mendanbar said, puzzled. "I used it on your sink, and to stop the nightshade, and when the carpet started falling, but that's all.
Why?"
"Because it's leaking magic all over the place," Cimorene said. "I thought so before, but now I'm positive." She finished her second pastry and stood up, brushing crumbs from her lap. "That sheath must not be as good as I thought. Would you mind letting me look at it? Without the sword."
"Not at all," Mendanbar answered. He stood up and drew the sword.
Cimorene flinched. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't know," Cimorene said. "Can't you feel it?"
"Feel what?"
"Your sword. It isn't the sheath after all; it's that dratted sword.
It's gotten worse. Put it away, quickly."
Thoroughly puzzled, Mendanbar did as Cimorene asked. "All right," he said. "Now, would you please explain?"
"I'm not sure I can," Cimorene said. "You didn't know what I meant before, when I said your sword reeked of magic, so I suppose it's reasonable that you can't tell that the reek is twice as strong now.
You'll just have to take my word for it."
Mendanbar looked down at the sword, thinking hard. "It's linked to the Enchanted Forest , and I've never taken it out of the woods before," he said at last. "Maybe it doesn't like it. Maybe it's trying to make the mountains more like the Enchanted Forest ." It sounded silly put that way, but he couldn't think how else to say it. It would sound even sillier if he told her that he thought the sword was trying to stuff some magic into the empty, barren-feeling land around it.
"Um," said Cimorene, gazing absently at the sword. After a moment, she looked up. "I'll bet you're right. Bother. That means we have to use the carpet." She bent and started packing up the remains of their lunch.