Free The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

air filled with roasts and tarts so tiny you can’t see them?”
    The tablecloth folded itself, and Rhys gave it to me. “I don’t think so.” He laughed. “But how would anyone tell?”
    I laughed too, but I was surprised a sorcerer couldn’t tell.
    “You have to say the words precisely as I did—‘Good tablecloth, please set thyself’ and—”
    The tablecloth leaped out of my arms.
    Rhys added hastily, “And then, ‘Good tablecloth, I thank thee for a fine meal.’”
    It hung in the air for a moment and then started to fall, but I caught it.
    “Remember—if you add a word or leave one out, nothing will happen.”
    I repeated the words, doubting that the magic would work for me. It did, however. It was a wonderful gift. I would have food on my quest—unless I became food first.
    But I knew I mustn’t think that way. The tablecloth would keep me fed, and the cloak would keep me safe.
    I sat again. “Thank you. Your gifts are marvelous.”
    “And these . . .” He reached into his bundle again, although it was now quite flat. “Look.” He handed me a thin stack of parchment papers.
    I took them on my lap and held up the top one to catch the light. “It’s a map of the Eskerns!” I peered at it. The markings were thin and spidery, but clear if I looked closely. Ogres’ camps dotted the slopes. I caught my breath. So many! And gryphon nests capped the peaks. Not every peak, but many. I would need my magic cloak in the Eskerns.
    “The maps aren’t magical,” Rhys said. “Apprentice sorcerers draw them.”
    I put the map of the Eskerns aside and picked up another one.
    He went on. “Some maps are older than others, and the old ones may not be completely accurate. Monsters move. New monsters are born.”
    The next map was of Bamarre castle and the land around it. There were the farms, Lake Orrinic and its nearby cave, and the pine forest. I saw a word along the southeastern fringe of the forest: Specters . The spectral child had been in the west, however, so they’d spread westward since the map had been drawn.
    The next map was of the Kilkets. There were seven maps in all: Mulee Forest; the western desert where the dragons dwell; the ocean shore and the elf queen’s castle; the sorcerers’ citadel and the plains around it, which were in southwestern Bamarre, between the desert and Mulee Forest.
    “Is there a map of Mount Ziriat and how to reach it?” I’d take the quest straight to the fairies if I could.
    “We don’t know where the mountain is. It’s invisible to us, too. Occasionally a fairy or two visits the elders, but I’m not privy to why they come or what they say.” He was quiet. “I would love to see a fairy.”
    “I would too.”
    We smiled at each other. Wistful smiles.
    If I died, I’d never see him again.
    But I wasn’t going to die.
    “Never mind about the fairies.” I tapped the maps. “These are the best gifts of all.”
    “I wish they were perfectly reliable. I wish . . .” He shrugged, looking unhappy.
    I didn’t want to end by weeping. “I’ll find the cure and come back fat from your marvelous tablecloth.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then I blushed at my audacity.
    He looked startled, and then solemn. My last sight of him: He was bowing.

Chapter Thirteen
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    O N THE WAY TO my chamber I realized I couldn’t tell Bella and Milton about my quest, because they might think it their duty to tell Father’s councillors.
    But I wanted to tell them. I blinked back tears. I wanted their advice. Bella knew a thousand tales of monsters, and some of her lore might help me, and Milton might have useful elvish counsel. More than that, though, I wanted them to follow me with their eyes as I prepared to leave. I wanted to feel their love, to carry it away with me.
    I’d tell Meryl late tonight, when she was alone. She wasn’t so sick yet that she needed an elf through the night.
    In my room I wrote a letter to Father.
    “Sire,”