"Mendanbar!" For an instant, Zemenar looked thoroughly startled.

Then he smiled nastily. "How nice to see you. I've been hoping you would turn up, so we could finish this little business at last."

As he spoke, Zemenar stepped forward and shifted his staff to point at Mendanbar. Mendanbar raised his sword and stayed where he was. He felt magic building around the staff once more and decided not to wait to find out what Zemenar intended it to become. Instead, he reached out through the sword and touched the wizard's spell, the same way he touched the magic threads of the Enchanted Forest.

It was much easier to do here than it had been in the Mountains of Morning. The sword sopped up the spell in an instant. Mendanbar could sense the channels of power Zemenar had been using to feed his spell, and he touched those, too, and pulled. The sword obligingly drank them in.

"What are you doing?" Zemenar cried in astonishment, lowering his staff. His hair stood out around his head, as wild and tangled as the magical mess he'd left on the floor of Mendanbar's castle.

"I'm stopping you," Mendanbar said. His whole arm tingled with the power the sword had absorbed. If he could just think of the right thing to do with it…

"And a good thing, too," Morwen said from several pillars over.

"You're too greedy for your own good, or anyone else's, for that matter."

"I am not greedy," Zemenar protested angrily. "I have every right to-" "You're greedy, all right," Cimorene said from just behind Mendanbar.

"And you wouldn't know what to do with all the power you want even if you got it. Just look at you! Your hair's like a bird's nest."

Zemenar scowled. Mendanbar stared at him without really seeing him, trying to remember why Cimorene's words sounded familiar.

"The gargoyle!" he said suddenly. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"What gargoyle?" one of the wizards asked.

"Never mind him," Zemenar said. "He's only trying to distract us. All together, now: blast them?"

The line of wizards raised their staffs. Mendanbar grinned and twisted the mass of power in the sword, just as he had done two days earlier when he had grown tired of the gargoyle's complaints. Soapy water spurted out of the empty air in front of the wizards in a hard, fast stream, as if it were being pumped through an invisible hose. The foaming spray washed over the entire line, thoroughly soaking them all.

Puddles grew rapidly on the stones underfoot, and wizards shouted and slid on the suddenly slippery floor.

Several of them dropped their staffs to rub at their eyes, which had apparently gotten soap in them. None of them melted.

Mendanbar felt a moment of panic. He'd been sure that his magically created soapy water would work just as well as the buckets they had hauled with them from the castle, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. The wizards would get themselves together any minute, and what would he do then?

"Did you remember the lemon juice?" Cimorene said in his ear.

"Oh, right," said Mendanbar. He twisted the power again, and another spray of soapy water (this time smelling strongly of lemon) squirted over the wizards. To Mendanbar's considerable relief, they collapsed into gooey puddles, one after another. In another moment, there were no wizards left in the cave at all, only staffs, soggy robes, and a great deal of water and soapsuds.

Mendanbar studied the puddles, then set his bucket of soapy water on the ground. It didn't look as if he'd be needing it anymore. He kept his sword out, however, since he didn't know how many more wizards might still be outside.

"Fascinating," said Telemain. He moved forward and knelt at the edge of a puddle. "This mess appears to be mainly the liquefying agent."

"It does?" Cimorene asked.

"He means it's mostly soapy water," Mendanbar said.

"And a good thing, too, or it would take forever to clean up," Morwen said. "Wizards are a nuisance even when they're gone."

"It's a pity it isn't permanent," Cimorene said. "I'd like to get rid of that Zemenar once and for all."

"Removing their staffs will delay their reappearance," Telemain said.

"I suggest we do so before we leave."

"Good idea," Morwen said. She picked her way between puddles and began collecting the wizards' staffs. Telemain went back to studying the puddle.

Cimorene turned to Mendanbar. "Now, if Kazul can just-oh, no!"

Mendanbar followed Cimorene's gaze. The glowing, golden shield spell still blocked half of the cavern, imprisoning Kazul.

There was a long silence. Then Cimorene said, "Telemain, were those wizards right when they said they were the only ones who could take down that spell?"

"What's that?" Telemain said, looking up. "Really, must you interrupt so constantly? I'm never going to get anything finished at this rate."

"But think of all the interesting things you're finding out," Mendanbar said. Kazul's shield, for instance. Have you ever seen anything like it before?"

"Now that you mention it, no," Telemain replied, scrambling to his feet. "Let me look at it."

"That was the idea," Cimorene muttered.

They all watched while Telemain examined the shield. He walked from one end to the other, then put a hand gingerly against the glow and pushed.

When nothing seemed to happen, he twisted one of his rings twice and touched it to the glow.

"Can you get rid of it?" Cimorene asked.

"I don't know yet," Telemain said. "I'm still checking the parameters of the primary enchantment."

"Oh."

The magician twisted a different ring and touched it to the glow. This time there was a spark. "Ah!" Telemain said in a satisfied tone. "I suspected as much."

"Well, are you going to tell us about it?" Morwen said as she dropped a load of wizards' staffs in a pile against the wall.

"It's a self-sustaining barrier produced by a recirculation of the initial power input," Telemain explained. "Because of the rotation effect, most physical substances cannot pass through the shield in either direction. Unlike the majority of spells, this one needs no exterior energy source, so the usual procedures for dismantling such sorceries would be completely ineffective."

"What does that mean?" Cimorene demanded.

"The spell keeps itself up, we can't get in or out, and we don't have any way of getting rid of it," Mendanbar translated.

"Then how did the cat get in?" Cimorene asked, pointing at Morwen's large silver-and-cream cat, which had climbed onto Kazul's back and lay curled up between her wings.

"Cats are like that," Morwen said. "When he comes out, I'll ask him how he did it, if you want me to, but don't expect too much in the way of an answer. Cats enjoy being mysterious."

"I don't care what they enjoy," Cimorene said. "We have to get Kazul out of there, and if that cat can help-" "It is unlikely," Telemain interrupted, stepping back from the glow.

"The cat's method of moving through the barrier is, in all probability, useless to anyone else. Fortunately, we have other resources."

"We do?"

Telemain looked at Mendanbar. "While I have not had a chance to make a thorough and complete examination of that extremely intriguing weapon you carry, I have observed enough to determine that its function is fundamentally antithetical to wizards and their magic. A straightforward penetration appears quite possible and would disrupt the recirculation effect, resulting in the collapse of the self-sustaining mechanism."

"What?" said Cimorene.

"Really, Telemain, must you?" said Morwen.

"Right," said Mendanbar. He took three steps forward and stuck his sword into the glowing spell.

A jolt of power ran up his arm and the globe of light flashed brighter than the sun. Mendanbar's eyes were dazzled by the flare, so he couldn't see anything except purple spots, but he heard a loud roar, the angry hiss of a cat, and the sound of scales on stone, so he was sure the barrier was gone.