"I don't see the connection between children and spinning straw into gold," Mendanbar said before the dwarf could start complaining again.

"Would you be good enough to explain it to me?"

"Explain?" the dwarf fumed. "That's what the last girl said, and what happened? Twins, that's what happened! And she claimed she couldn't remember which one was first, so I ended up with both of them."

"I can see why that would be annoying," Cimorene said noncommittally.

The dwarf glared at her. "Yes, you say that now, but-oh what's the use? You'll get it out of me one way or another."

"If you'd rather not tell us-" Mendanbar started, but the dwarf cut him off with a despairing wave.

"It doesn't matter. It's my fate, that's what it is. I should never have agreed to learn to spin straw into gold in the first place."

"Why did you?" Mendanbar asked.

"It's a family tradition," the dwarf answered gloomily. "Of course it doesn't work if you're just spinning for yourself. So, a long time ago, my great-grandfather offered to use his talent to help out a girl who was in a sticky situation. If he hadn't been such a do-gooder, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"What good did he do, exactly?" Mendanbar asked.

"The local prince had gotten a notion that the girl could spin straw into gold," the dwarf said. "Brainless young idiot, but they're all like that. If she could spin straw into gold, why was she living in a hovel? Anyway, Gramps said he'd do her spinning for her in return for part of the gold and her firstborn child. She agreed, but naturally when the baby was born she didn't want to give him up. So Gramps agreed to a guessing game: if she could guess his name, she could keep the baby. Then he let her find out what his name was. She kept the baby and Gramps kept the gold, and everyone went home happy."

"I think I'm beginning to get the idea," Cimorene said. "It's not just spinning straw into gold that's a family tradition, is it? It's the whole scheme."

The dwarf nodded sadly. "Right the first time. Only I can never make it work properly. I can find plenty of girls who're supposed to spin straw into gold, and most of them suggest the guessing game, but I've never had even one who managed to guess my name."

"Oh, dear," said Cimorene.

"I even changed my name legally, so it would be easier," the dwarf said sadly. "Herman isn't a difficult name to remember, is it? But no, the silly chits can't do it. So I end up with the baby as well as the gold, and babies eat and cry and need clothes, and the gold runs out, and I have to find another girl to spin gold for, and it happens all over again, and I end up with another baby. It isn't fair!"

"You, um, seem to be fond of the children, though," Mendanbar said.

The dwarf looked around to see whether any of the children were within hearing distance, then nodded sheepishly. "They're good kids. It's just that there are too many of them. I moved out here so it would be harder for the silly girls to find me and talk me into spinning for them, but they keep finding me anyway."

"It was a rather drastic move, wasn't it?" Cimorene said. "What about the dragons and giants and rock snakes and so on?"

"Oh, they're no problem. The house used to belong to a magician, and he left a lot of guarding spells on it. Nothing nasty can get anywhere near."

"That's why it feels magical," Mendanbar said, relieved.

"It's an odd sort of house for a wizard," Cimorene said, studying it.

"Why so many windows?"

"Not a wizard," the dwarf said. "A magician. He was trying to find out which kinds of windows work best when they're enchanted."

"Did he find out?"

"I suppose so, or he wouldn't have let me buy it. Most of the windows don't work anymore, but there's a round one at the end of the attic that still shows things once in a while."

"What kinds of things?" Mendanbar asked. "Can you ask to see something in particular, or does it just show scenes at random?"

"You have to ask," said the dwarf, "and you don't always get an answer.

Would you like to see it?"

"Yes, please," Cimorene said quickly.

Mendanbar looked doubtfully at the carpet, wondering whether it would be safe to leave it where it was with all the children around, and thinking how much trouble it would be to haul along if they didn't.

"Let it be," the dwarf said, following Mendanbar's gaze. "The kids won't touch it."

With some reluctance, Mendanbar nodded and followed the dwarf and Cimorene into the house. The inside was just as mazelike as Mendanbar had expected from the rambling exterior. The dwarf led them down a passage, around a corner, up a flight of creaky wooden stairs, through a room lined with pictures, up another flight of stairs, and down a long hall to a cramped, stuffy little room under the farthest slope of the roof. The only light came from a circular window about twice the size of Mendanbar's head.

"There it is," said the dwarf. "If you want to see something, ask; but I can't guarantee it'll work."

"Show me Kazul, the King of the Dragons," Cimorene commanded at once.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Mendanbar felt a tentative swelling of magic around the window. "I think it needs a boost," he said and reached for his sword.

"No, let me," said Cimorene. She thought for a minute, then raised her right hand and pointed at the window.

"Power of water, wind, and earth, Cast the spell to show its birth.

Raise the fire to stop the harm By the power of this charm."

Power surged around the window, and the glass went milk-white.

"What did you do?" Mendanbar said, impressed.

"It's a dragon spell," Cimorene told him, keeping her eyes fixed on the window. "It's easy to remember, and it's not hard to adapt it to do just about anything. I found it in Kazul's-look!"

The window glass had cleared. Through the circular pane, Mendanbar could see the inside of a large cave. A sphere of golden light, like a giant glowing soap-bubble, covered half the cave, and inside the glow was a dragon. She was easily four times as tall as Mendanbar, even without counting her wings. Three short, stubby horns stuck out of her head, one on each side and one in the center of her forehead, and her scales were just starting to turn gray around the edges. An angry-looking trickle of smoke leaked out of her mouth as she breathed.

In front of the bubble stood two tall, bearded men in long robes, carrying staffs of polished wood.

"Wizards," Cimorene said angrily. "I knew it!"

Mendanbar stared at the window, angrier than he could remember being in a long time. In the back of his mind, he could hear a voice reminding him that the King of the Dragons was no concern of the King of the Enchanted Forest and that the Society of Wizards was a dangerous group to offend or interfere with. He could hear another voice that sounded very like Willin's, suggesting envoys and formal complaints. But he was in no mood to pay attention to either of them. Mendanbar was not going to stand by and let the Society of Wizards kidnap and imprison anyone, King of the Dragons or not.

"Huh," said the dwarf. "So you weren't kidding about looking for that dragon."

"Of course not," Cimorene snapped. Her eyes were fixed on the window, and there was a little crease between her eyebrows. "But where are they? Window! Show me where they are."

Magic rose up around the window in a great wave, and Mendanbar felt an answering surge in his sword. The window turned bright green, glowing brighter and brighter, then suddenly shattered into dust.

"Hey!" said the dwarf. "My window!"

"Drat!" Cimorene's hands clenched into fists, and she glared at the empty space where the window had been. After a moment, she shook her head and turned to the dwarf. "I'm sorry, Herman. I didn't know it would do that. And we don't really know any more than we did before."