CHAPTER 4

Children's Suite

The enormous room, a combination of playroom and gymnasium, was a humming hive of potential pests.

Kids of every age and description and size were there, up to an apparent age of twelve. There were instructors and nursemaids and teachers, all of whom had to be witches or the representatives of witches, conducting numerous and varied activities. There were footraces and other athletic contests conducted with the help of magic. There were games designed to teach and exercise magical skills as well as physical and mental abilities. There were kids talking among themselves. Kids fighting. Kids screaming.

Kids everywhere. In short, it was routine.

Kelvin breathed a great sigh. He had expected something like a large cage. This, though noisy, was better than anything he had visualized.

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objects, intruding in conversations, being typically rude and bothersome and satisfied. The adults just stood and watched, each undoubtedly thankful that these little demons would be here and not enlivening the convention proper.

A light-colored bird flew down from above and lit by Helbah's feet. There was a puff of white smoke and a most attractive blonde wearing horn-rim glasses replaced the bird. The blonde smiled at Kelvin.

Kelvin gulped. She wasn't nude, but to his mind glasses and a body stocking hardly counted as clothed.

It seemed impossible to get used to this style of (un)dress, assuming he wanted to. Naturally he had to be standing next to Helbah, who would not miss a thing.

Zudini made quick introductions. "Zally, my daughter, majoring in pedimagic at Magicon U."

Kelvin stammered something appropriate. Her nearness and bareness unsettled him in somewhat the manner the waitress had, squared. He had to focus his mind on Heln and leave it there.

"I wonder, Witch Zally—" Jon began.

"It's neophyte witch Zally," the beautiful creature corrected her. "I can't be just Witch Zally for at least another hundred years."

Jon frowned, though only briefly. "I was wondering about adult visitors—"

"Any of you may come and go as you wish: Our only restriction is for the safety of the children and the peace of adult conventioneers. No child is allowed to leave here unaccompanied."

"That means any of you," Zudini said to Merlain, who had come back to listen, trailed by the kinglets.

"There are no bad people here, and we intend to see that none enter."

"Do practitioners of malignant magic ever show up?" Charlain asked.

"Infiltrate, you mean?" Zudini said with a grim smile. "They've tried it a few times in the past. That's why we take all possible precautions, especially with the children. We've never lost a child or had one harmed. Shall we get to that meeting, Helbah?"

Helbah made a pass. One of the kinglets jumped as if an ear stung, and put his hand back down without smacking Zally's pretty bare bottom.

"Yes, better get it over," Helbah said, seeming not even to notice her own background activity in the disciplinary arena. "Charlain, Heln, John, Kelvin—why don't you go to the rooms and wait? I know you'll be comfortable. Or you can just browse around the con. We'll all meet here when it's time to go for lunch."

Kelvin watched as Helbah and the handsome old wizard walked away toward what he'd heard called the "liftivators." He felt, irrationally, that she was abandoning them.

The children disappeared into the melee of the chamber. Those remaining, of the intermediate generations, exchanged glances. "I know we can get to our suite," John said. "The elevators here are just like those in the store. They call them liftivators, but I call them elevators. Anyone want to do anything else?"

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"I think I'd rather stay here," Jon said, surprising Kelvin as well as their father. "I'm interested in what the children are doing."

Kelvin wondered whether the failure of Jon and Lester to have children of their own was affecting her.

He knew Jon wanted a child, but she had refused to invoke any magical remedies. For that, at least, he could not fault her. After what had happened to Heln's pregnancy, because of magic—she had given birth to twins and a dragon—Jon had reason to be well wary of it. But she did want a child. Maybe she thought it was Lester's fault, so she was looking at other men's anatomy, wondering whether there was more fertility there. That just might explain her weird attitude here.

"The children are mainly making noise," Heln said, clapping her hands to her ears.

"They'll quiet down," Zally said. Her form was as pretty from the rear as it had been from the front, as she walked out into the battlefield to try to arrange a truce. These witches must be using magic to make their bodies so good! Kelvin realized he was staring again when he felt Heln's warning touch on his arm.

"You can do whatever you want, but I want to stay and watch the children and their instructors," Jon said.

"Anyone else?" John Knight asked.

Kelvin wondered whether his sister could be planning something involving one of the handsome wizards.

No, that thought was simply unworthy of him. But try to rationalize it as he might, she was acting strange.

No one mentioned Jon's decision as they left the suite, but seeing all the nudity and near nudity forced Kelvin to wonder. Just how different was Jon in her revealing dress from Jon in greenbriar shirt and brownberry pantaloons? She was an adult, and she was married, but just the same, the way she was acting bothered him. In addition to showing an uncharacteristic interest in men other than her husband, there was something else: Jon, impudent, saucy Jon, his irrepressible little sister, had taken lately to being entirely too polite.

Merlain was rapidly tiring of the games. Children's games were, after all, of only limited interest to real children; they were mostly the adults' idea of what children should enjoy. She had beaten Kildom and Kildee and even Charles without difficulty. The teacher had beamed at her and called her a "little natural,"

but she didn't care. It was all so easy to know what cards were coming up, and in fact she didn't hardly have to cheat. She wondered whether Charles had known she mind-peeked. Had he mind-peeked himself? The teacher didn't know; in fact she had made sure of this. Kildom and Kildee were just too dumb to know.

"That concludes our precog series," neophyte witch Zally said. Her smile was nice, but Merlain had peeked a little too deeply and knew that at times she thought naughty. That young-man warlock who went around without clothes and some pretty good male contours really flamed an instinct Merlain would not encounter in herself for years. She was in no hurry to grow up, seeing what mush it made of the mind of an adult, though some of the bodily contortions it seemed to want to lead to were interesting. Why should anyone want to do that with that? But since that was the way it was, why didn't Zally just tell the big-muscled hunk? Maybe if she whispered to him herself...?

"Oh, Zally," the young warlock said, coming close to their teacher with all his male equipment. "I was wondering if we could have lunch together."

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Zally's pulse leaped so high it almost made Merlain wince. But she affected indifference. "Oh, of course, Fredrich," she said. She wanted more, much more, but Fredrich wasn't supposed to know. What a curious business it was, being adult!

"And a talk in the bar," Merlain suggested. "And then maybe during your off time, a visit to her room, and—"

"Merlain!" Zally's cheeks flamed. Then, to Fredrich: "I'm sorry, but she's a natural."

"You're not sorry at all!" Charles piped, proving that he too had peeked. That was just as well; Merlain had begun to worry about him.

"Chimaera," Fredrich whispered. "They have to be the ones."

"You think?" she asked, seeming awed.

"I know. Helbah brought them, didn't she?"

"Oh. Oh, dear!"

"So they can read minds. We're both practitioners of the art, and adult."

"Yes, yes, that is true."

"You can go at it now and we won't tell anyone," Merlain suggested. "Will we?" She looked around at her brother and the nominal kings. Kildom and Kildee were clearly puzzled, but Charles had his head bobbing, and an expression to go with the way Zally felt: guilty desire.

"I know you both want to," Merlain persisted.

Fredrich squatted down, not without a certain difficulty, until his face was at Merlain's level. "Young lady, didn't they teach you anything?"

"I was told not to peek. I don't, usually. But—"

"But you did."

"Uh-huh. Because it's interesting." She knew he wanted her to feel uncomfortable. Adults were so predictable.

"Merlain, what happens or doesn't happen between grown-ups is none of your concern."

"That's what Mama says."

"You won't do it again? Not ever again, at least during your stay here?"

"N-no." She made some tears come to dress it up a little. Why did adults always want her to lie?

He stood up, more readily than he had squatted. He looked the blonde straight in her blue eyes. "Well?"

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"They have things to do and it's not as if they're unsupervised," she said, her flush not quite fading out.

"Here comes that girl who was here."

"Auntie Jon!" Charles exclaimed.

Jon stood alone where she had been earlier. She had some packages: possibly presents.

Merlain didn't try to stop herself; she just had to peek. Auntie Jon was thinking something about two pearl drops put into a chokabola shared by Zally and Fredrich. Then Aunt Jon's thoughts got dark and ugly and then blank.

Merlain gasped aloud. Never before had she experienced this mental shutout. Auntie Jon was smiling a smile that was not a smile at all under the surface, and that suggested she was going to punish her for peeking. But Auntie said nothing of the kind; her thoughts, Merlain realized, were now hidden.

"Oh come, Zally!" Such urgency in the hunk's voice. At first Zally had been the interested one, but once Fredrich caught on to her interest, his interest had leaped way up.

"Oh yes, Fredrich!"

The two of them walked away, as if guided by some unheard instruction, arms circling each other's waists.

Their passion tempted Merlain not at all, now, though a moment before it had been weaker and she had been far more interested. That was odd! Even if she had wanted to break her promise, there was now Auntie. There was fire in the eyes that were usually mischievous. It held Merlain, preventing her from diverting or dividing her attention.

"This is for you," Auntie Jon said, placing a package in her hands. The wrapping felt smooth, almost like skin. "And for you," she said, placing a similar package into the hands of a red-haired king.

"Can we open them now?" Charles asked eagerly. It was a natural law: anything in a surprise package was exciting.

"That would be unwise. You must not let adults or even children see you try these on."

Oh, then it was clothes. That was the glaring exception to the law: clothing was almost never interesting, especially if an adult picked it out. Merlain tried to stifle her disappointment. She was quite satisfied with the outfits that Helbah had bought, if only because Merlain had really chosen hers herself.

"You are going to have fun with these," Auntie Jon promised. She made a sweeping gesture with her hand that completely circled them. "There! Now no one will hear or see and you may try."

Merlain hadn't realized that Auntie Jon could do that kind of magic. But if she could now shield her thoughts, it made sense that she could do other witchy things. She must have been practicing in secret. It didn't matter; it just might mean that the packages really were interesting.

Hurriedly they ripped open their packages. The strings, so much like dried guts, came untied without Merlain doing any picking. Magic indeed! The skin—yes, it definitely felt more like skin than paper, and looked it too!—peeled back from her fingers. She held in her two outstretched arms—nothing.

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The twin who was either Kildom or Kildee—she couldn't tell without peeking into his mind, because she had forgotten which mirror image was which—was standing exactly as she was, as if Auntie Jon had commanded it. He was similarly baffled, and about to make a loud and probably indecent protest.

"There are two cloaks in each package," Auntie Jon said. "One for each of you. Put them on."

Merlain felt gingerly in the nothingness. She found substance after all. Almost without willing herself to, she took hold of what her fingers touched and lifted it. It was very, very light, with no texture feel at all.

Only the slight resistance of it against her fingers satisfied her that it was even there.

"Be careful not to drop them," Auntie Jon warned. "They can be difficult to find."

Ignoring Auntie and the rest, Merlain felt out the lines of a cloak. When she put her hands and arms under it, they vanished. Oho! This was a magic cloak! She whipped it up and drew it around her shoulders. She felt the same, but now she couldn't see herself. Could anyone else?

"You are now invisible, Merlain," Auntie said. "You can go anywhere and not be seen. Even witches and warlocks won't see you. But you will have to be quiet, lest they hear you."

"Oh, Auntie! Auntie!" Merlain was overwhelmed. It was the best present she'd ever had!

"You can go right into people's rooms. You can take their things without their knowing."

The kinglets and Charles were now donning their cloaks. Charles left his head uncovered so that it appeared to float in the air. Then he drew the cloak all the way up so that his face seemed to disappear into some invisible hole, from the bottom to the top. Kildom and Kildee put theirs on from the top of the head down; their bodies seemed first decapitated, then cut off at the chests, waists, and legs, until only their four feet were standing, and then nothing. No one now seemed to be present except Auntie.

"Take things?" Merlain whispered. This disturbed her. She had always been taught that stealing was wrong.

"Of course," Auntie Jon replied. "Taking is fun. At this convention there are many, many magical things that you can enjoy without anyone catching you. Books that tell secrets. Elixirs that make people do things and behave in many different ways. Love potions can really be fun, and hate potions even more fun—especially when you slip one to one member of a couple and the other to the other. Toys that you'd never, never get to play with without your cloaks. You can play tricks on people and never get caught.

Not as long as you are careful and quiet. You can see things children are forbidden to see."

"Like what Zally and Fredrich are doing?" Merlain asked, her interest in that subject returning. It wasn't that the subject fascinated her; it was the idea of spying on something the participants didn't want spied on.

"Exactly like that," Auntie Jon agreed, smiling.

"Tricks?" a kinglet asked. "You mean like kicking butts? Pinching? Fun things like that?"

"Oh yes, yes. I see you do have a quick imagination. Only you must not allow people to know you're there. If they realize, they will use magic on you and then you will be caught and punished."

"Helbah would box our ears," said one royal.

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"Or spank our butts," the other pain continued.

"Maybe take our cloaks away," the first added.

"Possibly worse," Auntie said. "Remember, this is not your home. If you are caught in mischief here, there is no telling what your punishment may be. Any people you hurt here will enjoy hurting you more than you enjoyed hurting them."

"But," Charles whispered, confused, "hurting people is wrong."

"Pooh," said Auntie, and made a naughty gesture. Merlain had not realized that adults were capable of such gestures. Then Auntie made motions of throwing a cloak over her own head and pulling it snug. Her body vanished as the rest of them had. Merlain could see clearly, but there was nothing but empty floor where she knew they all stood.

"What should we do first?" asked a kinglet.

"Go back where we had lunch and get chokabolas," the other kinglet replied.

"Yes," said Charles. "Let's."

Merlain felt a little disappointed. She wanted first to see what Zally and the hunk were doing. She thought she knew, having mind-peeked her mother and father. But seeing it, actually being there in the room to see with her real eyes instead of her mind's eye—what fun!

"Maybe we'd better join hands," Charles suggested practically. "We don't want to get separated or lost.

We can't talk where anyone might hear us."

"That's an excellent suggestion, Charles," Auntie Jon said. "I can see you have an aptitude for this. You children run along. Have fun, be naughty. Auntie Jon is going to be doing some naughty things herself."

"Like with that hunk?" Merlain asked, interested.

"Perhaps. We shall see. 'Bye." There was a poof as that same dirty gray, really ugly bird appeared on the floor. It hopped into the air, its wings beating, and took off. It passed over their heads, then over the heads of others in the room, dropping a large squishy dropping in some unlucky wizard's upturned eye.

Then through the doorway, out of the suite, and it was gone.

Merlain was truly amazed. Auntie Jon had really learned a lot of magic in a short time!

"Let's go!" Charles said. She felt a tug on her hand, and started walking. It was strange, not being able to see her own feet; it made her a bit dizzy. But it was worth it. First they'd drink all the chokabola they could hold, and then—

It was later in the day after they had seen many things that children weren't supposed to that they decided to revisit the hawkers' room. "We haven't stolen anything yet," one of the kings explained. "The stuff we ate and drank wasn't important. We need to steal something valuable that will be missed."

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"Yes, watching that old woman in the bathroom wasn't much fun," the other king said. "And Fredrich and Zally were just lying there, hardly moving at all. What's the fun in that? We have to do something."

Merlain felt less than enthusiastic. She had managed to dissuade the kings from pinching women's bottoms, because that would have led to an instant clamor that could have resulted in them all getting caught. But watching things without interfering wasn't much fun either. Also, she had guzzled one big chokabola too many and gobbled one too-rich desert more than her tummy wanted to handle. Now she wanted more than anything to go back to the lavatory, lest she do something truly spectacular right where she stood. Of course she knew the boys would wait for her as they had before. At least she hoped they'd waited; there might have been a suspicious sound that wasn't hers. Maybe she could wait a little longer.

"Now everyone's quiet," the kinglet's voice persisted. "Lot of people in here. Don't stumble against anyone. Don't get caught."

"I've an idea," said the farthest kinglet. "Let's let go of each other's hands. We'll each take something, hide it under our cloaks, and then get together in that room we were in."

"Great idea, Kildom!" said the closet kinglet. "I know because I thought of it first. Once we're together in the room, we'll see what each of us got."

"I think I'd rather take something from one of the other rooms," Merlain said, thinking of the lavatory.

"Me too," Charles said.

"But," Merlain said, thinking of her need for privacy, "we'll each go to a different room. Kildom, Kildee, you can start your stealing here, if you like. Or if you want, you can go steal somewhere else."

"I'm going back to the kitchen," Charles whispered. "I'm hungry!"

Hungry! The very notion made her yearn for the lavatory!

She felt her brother's hand loosen and she knew that now they each were entirely on their own. It was scary, but scary could be fun. She decided to go straight to the lavatory, knowing that none of the others could see to follow. Once she'd done what had to be done, she could get down to some serious thieving.

Strange, Auntie Jon suggesting that. But then Daddy had always said Auntie was strange and adventuresome. She was beginning to think she knew what he meant.

She followed a pretty, dark-haired witch into the lavatory, and did what was proper. It was a great relief. No one saw her, she felt. But when the witch closed off the running water before Merlain had her hands washed, she was annoyed; that stickiness, after all, had bothered her ever since she spilled the chokabola. So as the witch walked away Merlain stuck out a foot and tripped her. The witch fell, inelegantly, and Merlain choked on a laugh.

"Sooo, Krissie, you are jealous!" the witch said to the empty air. "Two can play at that! Just you wait until I get my spellbook! You'll be sorry you did that!"

Merlain shuddered delightfully at the young witch's anger. Some witch who might have done what Merlain had done would get her punishment. What fun! What a way to get even with someone!

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wouldn't give her away.

She waited patiently by the door until another witch entered, then went out, catching the swing of the door at just the right place. Down the hotel corridor was the one who had left. The dark-haired witch was quite recognizable because of her shoulder-length glassy hair and alabaster bottom. Why did Mama and Daddy concern themselves that some people were undressed? It was warm and comfortable here, and inside there could be no rain. In fact, rain would hurt those who were clothed more than those who weren't. Maybe, just maybe, she'd try going bare herself—someday.

The witch's back was very straight and there was no question that she was angry. Merlain decided to follow her. She did. Up one corridor, down another, and to a room with a number on it. The witch made a short, angry clearing pass with her hand before going inside. Merlain followed right after her.

The witch went straight for the wooden dresser on which was cluttered a lot of stuff. There were unguents, powders, creams, jells, and potions. The witch hesitated over these, picked up a large stoppered bottle, then set it back down. She opened a drawer, took out a large, leather-bound book, and flipped through its pages. Muttering to herself, she left the hotel room, book in hand. Krissie, whoever she was, was in for trouble.

Merlain sighed. Here she was alone with an array of stuff used by witches. She should take something; it was only right that she fulfill Auntie Jon's faith in her. But what? She picked up the bottle the dark-haired witch had hesitated over. It had a label: "Alice Water."

Alice Water? Alice Water? Where had she heard of that? Surely it did not mean water from Alice; no one would want to save that! It was probably something magical, but what? There had been a girl named Alice in a book. What was it called? Alice in the Appleberry Patch? Alice and the Squirbets? Close.

Close. But not quite.

Then she remembered it. It hadn't been Alice anything, though it had been about Alice. Down the Squirbet Hole! It had been about an ordinary girl with pointed ears who couldn't mind-peek. There had been a bottle in it labeled "Drink Me." Take a drink from the bottle and it made you big or it made you tiny. Nice story, and now here was something that reminded her of it. Just possibly a drink from the bottle would make her big or small. But which? Maybe she could get the royal pains to drink from it, and then if they got small, she and Charles could get even with them for those laxaberries!

The door started opening again. Oh-oh, the witch was back! Hurriedly, hardly thinking what she did, Merlain opened her cloak and pulled the bottle out of sight. She'd just barely gotten the bottle under her cloak and the cloak closed when the witch was at the dresser.

"That'll fix her!" the woman muttered. "See how she likes having all her hair fall out! Steal my warlock, will she!"

Steal her warlock? All Merlain had done was trip her! There must be an ongoing feud, and the tripping was taken as a reminder of it. Merlain had been lucky—maybe.

The witch put the book back in the drawer and slammed the drawer back. She looked at the contents of the dresser and saw that the Alice Water bottle was gone. Oh-oh!

"So you got in here, did you, Krissie? You're going to regret that! Last time I borrow anything from you!

I hope you drink the entire bottle! I hope it changes you so much you'll never get back to your normal size! Assuming anything about you is normal, ha-ha!"

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So it would shrink a person, or make her big! She'd been right, and she hadn't mind-peeked. But now maybe she should. Just in case she was misunderstanding about the bottle. Suppose the size change was in the head instead of the whole body? Or the belly? That would be horrible!

She tried to read the dark-haired witch's mind, but it was as closed as Auntie Jon's had been. She should have expected that. She had not encountered many witches before, and wasn't used to their abilities, but she was learning quickly!

The witch started circling the room, feeling with her hands as though for someone invisible. Merlain moved back and aside, keeping the witch's hands from touching her, holding her breath when she had to keep quiet. How glad she was that she had washed off the chok smell; that would have given her away for sure! Once, the witch reached right over her, almost touching her head.

It really wasn't hard remaining clear, but Merlain was afraid her beating heart would give her away with its thumping. All she had to do was keep her nerve, but she wasn't sure of her supply of nerve right now.

Abruptly the witch gave up in disgust and went out. Merlain followed in her steps. The witch turned left; Merlain turned right. In a moment she was clear. Phew! It had been easy, yet also nervously difficult, and she would be much more careful next time she blithely followed anybody into a private room.

She paused for her heart to settle back to its normal place in her body. Then she resumed motion down the hall. It was time to go to the vacant room and meet the others. Now that she had done the right thing and stolen something.

She wondered what Charles and the royal pains would have gotten that could offer quite so much fun—maybe—as a bottle of size-changing potion.

Charles felt as if he were being led. He couldn't have explained it, but his invisible feet had carried him right to this door. Something just made him want to come this way.

No one was in the hallway with him, so he opened the door and went on in. For a moment he was disappointed; it was just a room, not much different than their own. There wasn't a lot of baggage scattered about, let alone magical paraphernalia. It was more like a storage chamber for the convention, with boxes of props and things. He was wasting his time here. What stupid whim had led him to this washout?

Then his eyes fell on the bed, and on the small weapon lying across it. A toy? No, surely not!

Charles gasped. It was a short dragon-leather scabbard with jewels on it, and protruding from its widest end was the jeweled pommel of a sword. On the pommel, worked into the precious metal, was a design of a shining sun wearing a smiling face. It was beautiful to look at, and right away he wanted it.

A sob sounded. Was his sister in this room? If so, what would she be crying about? No, she couldn't be here. No matter, he had to have this sword.

He picked it up in both hands, as gently as if it were alive. He grasped the handle and drew out the blade. The blade shone as if held in bright sunlight. It was beautiful, this sword, and just his size. It was probably part of someone's costume for a play, a child's role; everything had to look authentic. A hero Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

prince!

As he bent over the blade, studying it, testing its sharp edge with a careful touch of his thumb, the sob came again. It seemed close, and sounded heartbroken.

He glanced at the dresser mirror. There, looking cutely forlorn, was a little girl in a nightdress. It seemed as if she were getting ready for bed. She had long, light hair that glowed as he looked at it. Blue eyes, soft, with tears. She was astonishingly pretty.

For a moment the ghost, or whatever she was, looked at him from the glass. Then, in the manner a spent candle guttered, dimmed, and went out, she faded. The mirror was just a glass. It reflected the room with the sword and the scabbard apparently floating in midair.

Charles mentally shook himself. That girl had seemed to see him—but she wasn't really there. A magical something was here, but maybe only an illusion. Something set up to make an intruder think someone was watching. But it seemed to be no threat. Had it been an unfriendly dragon in the mirror, it might have been more effective. The girl wasn't scary at all. Still, it was a warning of sorts; he had best take the weapon and go.

He put the sheathed sword under his invisibility cloak and made certain he could not see it in the mirror, and that his hands and feet did not show. Weren't Merlain and the pains going to be surprised when he showed them what he had found!

Happy that he had done the right wrong thing, Charles left the hotel room, closing the door gently in his unseen wake.

In the room the redhead who said he was Kildee—he was lying, Merlain thought, as both pains often did—had a book. Its title was Spells and it had a cover that felt like the wrappings on their cloaks: peeled human skin. On the first page was a warning: "Adepts Only."

"With this," the kinglet said, "we can do magic. That's what it's for. Helbah had a book of spells but it doesn't have these pictures."

Merlain and Charles looked at the pictures. They were gross. Did witches really do things like that? She had never suspected! Butchering babies. Pulling out people's guts. Chewing on people's parts. Some pictures were confusing, but she suspected that if she were old enough to understand exactly what they meant, she would be utterly appalled. One section labeled "Ectoplasm" showed funny taffylike, cloudlike stuff coming out of several different orifices of witches. Didn't that hurt?

"I've got another," the twin pretending to be Kildom said. He took it out from the cloak now lying invisibly on a chair with no apparent bottom. It was a book, but it didn't have the same cover as his brother's. This one was titled Opal.

"Opal's a girl's name," Merlain said. She was proud that she knew that, and could read, a little. What had the royal brat imagined he was taking? Another volume of magic?

"Wrong!" the pain said stoutly. "It's a gem. A very magical stone with very special powers. With it anyone—you don't have to be a witch or a warlock—can go anywhere in an instant, even into another frame! We could go home if we wanted to, kick some butts, and then disappear back to here."

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"Just by wanting to?" Charles was skeptical. "Without a transporter?"

"Yeah, and look here—this is who has it."

Charles squinted at the picture. The pictures were prettier than those in the other book, Merlain decided, but not by much. This one showed a creature resembling both man and fish: it showed a fish's scales, fins, and eyes, and a man's arms, legs, nose, and forehead. It was a giant, judging from the trees that came to its scaly elbows. Maybe they were small trees; still it was scary. There were gills on its throat and broad greenish nostrils. It was crying out something and brandishing a club that dangled tree roots from the giant's greenish hand.

"Ugh," Charles said. "What do you call that thing? It sure isn't human!"

"It's an orc," the kinglet said smugly. "You babies are really dumb, aren't you! Nobody teaches you anything!"

Merlain grabbed Charles' arm before he could do more than make his customary fist. There might come a time for him to fight the little king, but that was hardly now.

"What did you get, Charles?" she asked him, hoping to distract him, and also hoping it would be something more impressive than the efforts of the kinglets. She had figured them for something better than mere books. Maybe they had done it just to spite her expectations.

She was too successful on both counts. "This!" Charles said, and whipped up his folded cloak to reveal a shining sword. He brandished it before the twin faces, still in its scabbard.

Charles, don't kill him! she thought desperately.

Why not? He insulted us!

He's a king. They're both kings. Pains and brats, but also kings. Helbah wouldn't give us presents if we hurt the kinglets.

Yeh. You're right. I wasn't going to anyway.

She had picked that up as she mind-talked to him, but it hadn't seemed expedient to remark on it.

Charles, like all males, liked to make a bold, dramatic play, even if it was a bluff, and the kings certainly deserved to be scared.

Carefully, almost reverently, Charles drew a polished blade from the heavily jeweled sheath. The blade gleamed, and though it could have been used by a grown man, it was as if it had been made for a person of Charles' size. It was a small weapon, but definitely a real one.

"That's a sword!" the kinglet of the insults said, admiring the thin edge. "Is it magic?"

"I don't know. I just took it from the room I was in. There seemed to be magic there, like someone watching, but it didn't stop me."

The kinglet reached out and grabbed his brother by a lock of red hair. He pulled out one of the hairs as the other yowled a protest. Those two didn't treat each other any better than they treated others!

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"Have to test the edge," the hair puller said. He held the hair between thumb and forefinger at either end.

Slowly, respectfully, he brought the middle of the hair against the edge.

With no apparent pressure the hair parted. It hardly seemed to touch the blade; it fell in two parts.

"Sharp!" the kinglet exclaimed appreciatively. "What are you going to do with it?"

Don't say it, Charles! Merlain warned her brother. Don't tell him you're going to ram it up his —

I wasn't going to. You think I'm as dumb as they? Actually, she read on the next level down, he had been mollified by the kinglet's appreciation of the weapon. "I'm going to wear it when I can. Take it home if I can. Slay a bandit with it, maybe."

"You slay a bandit?" The kinglet was skeptical.

"Or assist Dragon Horace with his lunch."

"Now that I want to see! Your dragon Horace."

"You will when we're back. I'll show you." Maybe feed you to him, too!

You wouldn't! Merlain thought, alarmed.

Naw. You know what a delicate gizzard Dragon Horace has. Raw meat is one thing, but rotten meat is another.

Actually their brother dragon could get quite intrigued by rotten meat too, as the episode of the stinky smell had shown. Still, she feared what might happen if Charles got mad while holding the sword. Don't even think that way! We have to get along with the kinglets. It's been a long time since they fed us those laxaberries. Besides, I told Helbah every naughty thing they did until Mama and Daddy made me stop. We got our revenge.

I still don't like them.

So what? They know better than to play king with us. After Helbah made them eat all those naughty words they'd written, they were sicker'n us.

Charles smiled. I made them feel even sicker when they vomited.

You did! That was brilliant, Charles! Why I never even thought of that! A little flattery never hurt.

Copper-haired girls can't think as well as copperhead boys, he thought smugly.

This was getting out of hand. She used her flattery judiciously, but he was believing it. You start calling me Sister Wart the way Daddy does Auntie Jon and you'll get the point!

Truce. Charles was not wholly stupid about interpersonal relations. I won't think that again. Not to you, anyway.

Truce, she agreed. They had to get along as a brother and sister should. They might not agree on Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

everything, but they had to be united against the pains.

"Why are you two looking at each other like that?" the kinglet demanded suspiciously.

Charles shrugged. Merlain smiled in the manner she knew adults loved. The brat might not love her smile, but now he'd worry about what they might have been thinking to each other inside their heads.

That would make him cautious. Any caution they could encourage in the kings was a good thing.

"That orc," Charles said, buckling on the sword. "What's it doing with the opal?"

"The orc is king of Ophal, the water country right next to the Kingdom of Rotternik. There are other orcs but mostly in different frames. Ophal's king is Brudalous."

"What a silly name!" Then she thought of what Brudalous looked like and changed her mind. Certainly it shouldn't have a name like a person.

"What'd you get?" Charles asked her.

She showed him the bottle of Alice Water. The other two were immediately unimpressed.

"Perfume!" a kinglet pronounced.

"Toilet water!" said his brother, sniggering. When the kinglets spoke of toilet water, they had something other in mind than women did.

Merlain didn't feel like arguing the matter. Just then Charles, showing unusual compassion, helped her out. "It's obviously a potion. They can be anything from love to poison."

"Yeah," the kinglets agreed together, learning respect. Potions could indeed be fun, in the wrong hands.

"Let's get back to the children's suite, before we're missed," Charles said.

It was such an obvious suggestion that each of them put on a cloak. Merlain, though she now felt embarrassed about it, carefully retained the bottle of Alice Water and held on to it on the way back.