She was suddenly afraid, thinking of night falling outside, and the weaselfolk that surrounded the Wizard’s demesne. She had barely escaped one of the creatures, and there were dozens out there in gathering dark …
“Of course,” said the Wizard. “Beds have been made up for you in the library. Guests usually like to sleep there. Very handy for getting a spot of nighttime reading. We will talk in the morning, and you may choose your gift before you go.”
“Gift?” asked Ardent.
At the same time, Anya said, “We have to go in the morning?”
“Wizards may give a quester a gift,” said the Wizard. “If we feel like it, which I do. And yes, you do need to go in the morning. None may stay here more than a night and a day, save they be a wizard or in the wizard’s service.”
“Says who?” asked Shrub.
“The All-Encompassing Bill of Rights and Wrongs says so,” said the Wizard. “As written on the Only Stone, which was made a thousand years ago by my predecessor’s predecessor’s predecessor.”
“The Only Stone!” exclaimed Shrub.
“Don’t get him started,” warned Ardent.
“Ah,” said Anya. “So it was made by wizards too. What’s the Only Stone’s flaw?”
“While it offers the bearer total protection against all kinds of magic, they themselves can work no magic, nor have beneficial magic cast upon them.”
“And what about the laws carved in the stone? How does the Only Stone make people obey them?”
“It doesn’t,” said the Wizard. “They were carved in the Stone as a means of ensuring they could never be lost, the Stone being essentially indestructible, unlike paper records, or even ordinary stone tablets. No one considered that the Stone might fall into the hands of evil sorcerers and end up locked away in their fortress in New Yarrow.”
“Their meetinghouse is a fortress?” asked Anya. She looked at Shrub. “Your mother didn’t mention that. How did you even manage to get on the roof in the first place?”
“Told you I was training to be a thief,” muttered Shrub. “I’ve got all the moves down, I have. Or I did when I wasn’t a newt.”
He hesitated, licked both eyes, and went on.
“Besides all that, I asked around. There’s supposed to be a way in through the sewers as well, but I didn’t fancy that, because the bloke who told me about it said it goes through the sorcerers’ prison, a horrible place they call the Garden, and I heard enough about that to fair give me the blue jeebles. So I bought a ladder from a chimney sweep’s boy and he showed me how to get onto the roof and told me which chimney to go down. Only it was the wrong one, and then I ended up in the Garden anyway, which would have been all right if only I hadn’t got soot in my eye, and on the way out I tripped and fumbled the Stone and that Grey Mist got me. Another minute and I’d have been clean away with the loot.”
“Hmmm,” said Anya. She looked at the Wizard. “I was going to ask about the League of Right-Minded Sorcerers’ meetinghouse.”
“Indeed?” said the Wizard. There was a slight smile, just visible under her beard.
“It occurred to me—while I was in the bath, thank you—that the best place for me to find all the ingredients I need for a sorcerous potion is in a sorcerer’s house,” said Anya. “Or better still, somewhere where there are a lot of sorcerers. Am I wrong?”
“No,” said the Wizard carefully. “Though you might not find everything you need, that is a reasonable, if dangerous, assumption.”
“A pint of witches’ tears might be a bit much,” said Anya. “But I’ve an idea about that as well. From the vision. Do you know anything about witches?”
“A fair amount,” said the Wizard. “Besides what we call book knowledge, my great-aunt Deirdre is a witch. I used to help her out from the time when I was a child.”
“So I have some questions about witches too,” said Anya. She yawned as she spoke, only just covering her mouth at the end, surprised by her own weariness. It had been a very long day, and a lot had happened, but she felt much more tired than she had only minutes before.
“Your questions can wait until morning. The Mirror’s visions take their toll,” said the Wizard. “Come. I will take you to the library. I suspect there will be no reading for you tonight.”
Anya nodded. She was suddenly so tired she could barely stay awake, and staggered at the first step on the way out. Dimly, she was aware of the Wizard taking her arm to help her up the stairs, and Ardent talking.
“I’m not tired,” said Ardent. “Have you got any books about dogs?”
Anya woke between clean sheets, under an eiderdown, with her head half on a plump goose-feather pillow. There was a heavy weight on her legs, but it shifted as she struggled to get up. She heard and felt the familiar happy thump of Ardent’s tail upon the bed as he moved off her feet.
“About time you woke up,” he said. “Everyone else is at breakfast already.”
“But you waited,” said Anya sleepily, giving him a hug.
“I did have a first breakfast,” admitted Ardent, licking Anya’s face. His breath smelled slightly of bacon. “With the apprentices. Second breakfast is with the Wizard and the dwarves.”
“Oh!” said Anya, waking up properly. She let go of Ardent and looked around. Her broad and comfortable bed was in a niche on the second level of a very large room that was open in the middle like a courtyard. Galleries ran around all four sides … and every gallery was lined floor to ceiling with books!