They had gone several miles and Killer's objections had degenerated into occasional terrified brays when Brandel slowed the laundry basket.
Morwen matched his reduction in speed, and a moment later they landed in a small stand of trees near the top of a hill.
"That's enough of that!" Killer said. "I don't care if you want to get there quickly, I don't care if I have to run, I don't care if those wizards turn me into a pancake and eat me for breakfast. I'm not doing that again."
"You won't have to," Brandel said, climbing out of the laundry basket.
"Vamist's house is over this hill and down the road about a quarter of a mile." He looked at Cimorene a little apologetically. "I know you'd rather be closer, but with him making all that noise-" "You'd make noise, too, if you were being hauled along three times as fast as any reasonable rabbit should go," Killer said unrepentantly.
"Well, you're not being pulled anywhere now, so be quiet," Cimorene said. "If you do anything that messes up our getting Mendanbar's sword, I'll... I'll turn you into a pancake and eat you myself."
"You can't do that!" Killer's ears jerked nervously. "Can you?"
"Killer will behave himself." Morwen looked at her cats. "Scorn and Trouble will see to it." And between keeping Killer out of mischief and acting as lookouts, the cats might actually have so much to do that they wouldn't get up to anything unfortunate. She hoped.
Cimorene nodded and turned to Brandel. "How easy will it be to sneak up on this house without being seen?"
"It shouldn't be too difficult," Brandel replied. "There are a lot of trees and bushes around the house."
"Let's go, then."
"What about these?" Brandel asked, waving at the empty laundry basket and broomstick.
"Leave the basket here," Morwen said. "It's too awkward to carry, and I can always enchant another one for you when this is all over. I'll take the broomstick in case Cimorene and I need to get away quickly."
"Then we're ready," Cimorene said. "Let's go."
Twisting his rings absently, Telemain nodded and started up the hill.
The rest followed in silence. No one seemed to feel much like talking as they went up over the hill and down the tree-lined lane on the other side.
A few minutes later, Brandel stopped and looked at Cimorene.
"Vamist's house is just around the bend. If you and Morwen cut through these bushes and head off to the right, you should come out in his backyard."
"Good," said Morwen. "Scorn, Trouble, run ahead and find out which room the sword is in and where Antorell and Vamist are. Don't forget to come back and let me know."
"We aren't amateurs," Scorn said, switching her tail.
"Right," said Trouble. "And Kazul's not here, so I get first crack at the wizard." He stood up and stretched to show that it wasn't all that important, then vanished into the bushes.
"I don't know why you care so much about the wizard," Scorn said, following. "That obnoxious idiot with no hair is the one I want dibs on. The things he said…"
Frowning, Morwen looked after the cats. "When we get back I'm going to have to make one of them tell me just what Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist said when he called the other day. Scorn is really annoyed."
"Yow mrow," said Horatio, and began washing his left front paw.
A few minutes later, the two cats returned. "Vamist and Antorell are in a big room with glass doors at the side of the house," Trouble reported.
"They've got the sword on the table and they're arguing."
"Arguing?" said Morwen.
"About what to do with the sword. Vamist thinks the Society of Wizards should stick it into a rock and leave it somewhere because that's traditional, but Antorell says that's only for important swords that are supposed to be found again. I don't think he knows what that sword does."
"Or else he doesn't want it found," said Scorn.
"Hmph. We'll see about that." Morwen turned to the others. "Trouble says things haven't changed much since we saw them in the mirror.
Cimorene and I will leave now; Killer, you come with us." She looked at Telemain. "You two get ready, and I'll send Scorn to signal you when to knock on the door."
"Good luck," Telemain said, and the two groups started off in different directions.
Sneaking up on Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist's home was much easier than Morwen had expected. The garden at the rear of the house was wildly overgrown, so there were plenty of shrubs to hide behind, and most of the windows were covered with dense vines. As far as Morwen could tell, all anyone would be able to see out of those windows were the back sides of leaves.
As they approached, Scorn vanished under a scraggly chrysanthemum.
She returned a moment later. "They're still arguing. The doors are over here on the left."
Morwen translated for Cimorene, who nodded and murmured, "Good.
Killer, you stay here. And don't eat anything. Arona Vamist consorts with wizards, so there's no telling what he has in his garden."
Weeds, mostly. It looks as if he hasn't paid attention to it for years, Morwen thought, but this was no time to say so. She looked at Scorn and said softly, "As soon as we're next to the doors, go around to the front so Telemain and Brandel will know when to knock."
"No problem," said Scorn.
"And don't forget to come back when they've seen you," Trouble said.
"You don't want to get left behind."
Scorn looked at him. "I won't be left behind. Telemain's the one who's doing the transport spell."
"Enough," said Morwen. "Do your jobs and argue about it later." She started toward the corner of the house.
"Are you going to be long?" said Killer.
"Keep your voice down," Cimorene whispered. "I don't know, so stay alert. We're going to be leaving in something of a hurry."
Trouble snorted. "There's an understatement."
Cautiously, they edged up to the corner, leaving Killer to watch anxiously from among the vines. Long ago, someone had built a stone patio along the far side of the house, with a flower border along the south edge and a row of tall bushes to the west for privacy. Now, weeds and grass grew in the cracks between stones, the bushes were an untidy mass of prickly twigs, and the flower border was full of thistles. Cimorene and Morwen had to step carefully to avoid being stuck.
Scorn directed them to a spot that was in easy reach of the glass doors but still out of sight. As soon as they were in position, Trouble insinuated himself between the vines and the wall of the house and crept around the corner and out of sight.
"He's ready," said Scorn after a minute. "See you later." She threw Morwen a slow blink of affection and disappeared into the unpruned hedge.
The wait that followed seemed to last hours. Morwen could feel Cimorene's tension, and she was not exactly calm herself. Planning to avoid a direct confrontation with any wizard-even if it was only Antorell-was all very well, but there was no guarantee that the wizard would cooperate. She fingered her sleeves, wishing that witches' spells did not take such a long time to perform, or that there were some way of storing them for quick use, the way wizards did.
The ivy trembled, and an instant later Trouble appeared. "They've left the room. Both of them. And the sword is just sitting on the table."
"Did you spot any alarm spells?" Morwen asked.
"Nope." Trouble lashed his tail.
"This sounds too easy." But Morwen turned to Cimorene anyway and said, "They're gone."
"Then let's go." Cimorene stepped over a patch of gigantic dandelions onto the ruined patio, and Morwen followed. Together they crossed to a set of double doors made of small rectangular windowpanes, eight down and four across on each door.