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lizards, this place that wasn’t Kentucky. Having survived a crazy childhood and adolescence helped, I guess. All the survival rigmarole Dad insisted on made sense if he was leading up toward making me assistant Hero—or whatever he planned to spring on me for my twenty-first birthday. And it did fit in with a lot of the things I had always written off as testaments to Dad’s general nuttiness.
    The difficulty with accepting the major premise was that I also had to accept the minor premise, the likelihood that my parents were in mortal danger, or worse. It took forever to get back to sleep. I still didn’t dream, but I woke several times before I heard Parthet stirring in the other room. When he came out and lit the Coleman lantern, I was up and folding my blanket.
    “Ah, good lad, you’re an early riser.” He peered at me more or less through his glasses.
    “Not when I can help it,” I said. “When I can get away with it, I like to sleep till a more civilized hour, like noon.”
    Parthet clucked over that. “Still, you’re up early today, and that’s what matters. We can get an early start.”
    “We are going to wait for sunup, aren’t we?” I rubbed at my leg again. It was still a little tender.
    “Hmmm. I guess that would simplify matters.”
    “Do we have time for a little breakfast?” It had been a long time since those peanut butter sandwiches.
    “We don’t want to spoil our appetites, do we, lad? We’ll have a fine meal when we get to Pregel’s castle, as much as you can possibly eat.”
    “I thought we were going to this border castle, the one that was captured by the whoozis.”
    “By the Etevar of Dorthin.” Parthet nodded. “Of course we’re going there. First, however, we must drop by the palace to see if they have any news. And for a good meal.” It sounded as though the meal was the more important reason. “I take most of my meals there.”
    “So how far is it from here to the king’s place?”
    “How far?” He stopped bustling around and stared at me. “Why, I think it’s about twenty miles. I’ve never paid much attention. Why?”
    Twenty miles before breakfast? I stifled my groan. “I was just wondering how far we had to hike on empty stomachs.”
    Parthet’s mouth dropped open. “Hike? You mean as in walk?” A dazed sound. “Who said anything about walking?” He seemed to gather his thoughts then. “Oh.” He blinked several times. “I forgot. You’re new to this. We won’t walk at all. We’ll just pop straight through. The doorway there.” He pointed at his bedroom door.
    I felt foolish, and then I felt even more foolish for feeling foolish. I wasn’t used to thinking in terms of magic doors to anywhere. I wasn’t used to not having the faintest idea what was going on. I’m not stupid, but I certainly felt that way then.
    “There’ll be a grand meal awaiting when we get there,” Parthet said. “Always a fine table in the hall of Pregel. He sets great store by it.” So, obviously, did Parthet.
    A good meal close at hand made me feel better. I looked at the doorway. The silver tracing was almost as tarnished as on the doorway in the cave. Then I checked the front door and saw tracing there too.
    “Where does this one lead?” I asked.
    “To Basil,” Parthet said.
    “Who’s Basil?”
    “Not who, what. Or where. Basil is our market town, just below Pregel’s castle, which is also called Basil. That door”—the bedroom door—”goes to the castle, the other to the town.”
    “Does everybody use magic doors here?”
    “Oh, no, lad. Only a few people have the key. Most folks don’t even know they exist. A family affair.” Yeah, I forgot.
    I started to ask what “most folks” thought when people popped in and out, but the lantern sputtered out of fuel just then. Parthet said, “Thunderation!” quite loudly, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
    “Did you do that?” I asked, jumping.
    “Do what?” Parthet looked at me, then at the front