“And its flaw?” Anya inquired.
“The biscuit,” said the Wizard with a shudder. “However, it will keep you alive.”
“And the fifth possible gift?”
“Very traditional. An Ever-Filled Purse. It contains a gold coin, a silver coin, and a copper coin. A noble, a shilling, and a penny. Of the old Yarrow minting, or so they seem. If you spend it, the coin will reappear in the purse at midnight. The flaw in this case is that they’re counterfeit coins, so using them is doubly dishonest. If you’re caught with false coins, the usual punishment is death. And if you’re not caught, then you’ll be bilking whoever you pay.”
The Wizard went on. “And the sixth choice is something I made myself; all the others were made by my various predecessors. Cloudwalking Boots. Seven leagues in a single step! Provided you step from cloud to cloud, of course.”
“What happens if there are no clouds?” asked Anya. “Or they blow away while you’re up in the air?”
“If you’re quick enough to tell the boots to take you to the ground, then all will be well.”
“And if you’re not?”
“If you’re not, or you try to take another step not to a cloud, then you fall.”
“From the height of the cloud?”
“Yes.”
“So you’d die.”
“Usually. But with proper practice, focus, and bad weather, they are an admirable means of getting around. And quite fetching—lovely doeskin lined with silk, with blued steel buckles. But enough of this. It is time for you to choose.”
Anya looked at the envelopes in the Wizard’s hand. For all her protestations about not interfering directly, one particular envelope really stood out, and there had been that thing with the eyebrows, which seemed as good as a wink.
Anya took the sticking-out envelope.
It was sealed with a rectangular silver wax seal bearing the device of a tall hat and crossed staff. Anya slid her fingernail under the seal and broke it off, then opened the envelope. There was nothing inside, but she was used to this style of letter. Unfolding the envelope all the way, she read what was written on the inside.
“A Wallet of Inexhaustible Munchings and Crunchings.”
“What? Let me see that!”
The Wizard took the opened envelope and read the message with a scowl on her face.
“Um, thank you,” said Anya.
“Wasn’t supposed to … ” muttered the Wizard, her words trailing off into an incomprehensible mumble.
“It will likely be very handy,” said Anya hesitantly.
“You haven’t tasted the biscuit,” said the Wizard, extending her hand to pull a small leather bag apparently out of thin air. But this time Anya was positioned in exactly the right place to see the invisibility cloak worn by the apprentice open and shut. In fact it was more like a small tent than a cloak. The young man underneath was wearing a strange kind of wicker work hat on his head, a pyramidal frame of thin sticks that extended out, so it supported and spread the cloak, enabling him to easily carry things and keep them invisible as well. It looked quite awkward, and doubtless would be very hot and airless in summer.
Anya took the wallet.
“Go on,” said the Wizard. “Try it. You might as well know the worst.”
Anya opened the small bag. There was a rather grayish, unappealing hard biscuit inside. She took it out, nibbled at the edge without making much of a dent, and put it down on the table. A moment later, Ardent’s nose appeared, the biscuit disappeared, and there was a loud crunching noise reminiscent of rocks being broken with a hammer.
“You see?” remarked the Wizard. “Highly nutritious, though. You’ll never starve with that. Though you might lose some teeth in the process. Now, how to get you to the witches’ meeting in time? I had … err … hoped … you’d get the flying carpet.”
“Do I get a gift too?”
The words were a little inhibited by crumbs in his throat, but Ardent’s question was clear.
“I’m afraid not,” said the Wizard. “I may only give questers gifts. You are a quester’s helper. Shrub, Smoothie, and Prince Denholm are the beneficiaries of the Quest.”
“I have a Quest too,” said Ardent. “Separate from the princess’s.”
“You do?” asked the Wizard, brightening up. “What is it?”
“Secret,” said the dog. “I c-c-an whisper it to you, though.”
“What?” asked Anya. “What about me?”
“C-c-an’t tell you, Princess,” said Ardent apologetically. “Dog business. Tanitha told me not to tell.”
“Hmmph.” Anya was immediately burning with curiosity. What could Ardent have a Quest for? A magic bone? And why couldn’t he tell her about it?
While the princess sat fuming, the Wizard bent down. Ardent stuck his nose almost in her ear and whispered just a few words.
“Good,” said the Wizard as she straightened up. “That’s clear. You are a quester, and I am delighted to offer you a gift. Now, to hurry things along, we’ll just go with these envelopes I prepared earlier for Anya. Oh, my eyes are quite tired. Glasses, please.”
An invisible servant handed over the same gold-rimmed glasses the Wizard had put on the day before. She sat them on the end of her nose and peered at the envelopes carefully, before fanning them out and holding them down for Ardent. Again, one was poking out a little more than the others.
Ardent sniffed them all twice, then very carefully bit down on the one that was projecting out a little, and drew it from the Wizard’s hand. Putting it on the floor, he set one paw on it and opened it with his teeth. Anya leaned across to read over his shoulder.
“A Thirty-League Flying Carpet!”
“Fancy that,” said the Wizard. “Now, is there anything else you need?”