Dealing
With Dragons / Book One of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles
Patricia
C. Wrede
Copyright
1990 by Patricia C. Wrede
1
In
Which Cimorene Refuses to Be Proper
and Has
a Conversation with a Frog
Linderwall
was a large kingdom, just east of the
Mountains
of Morning, where philosophers were
highly
respected and the number five was fashionable.
The
climate was unremarkable. The knights kept their
armor
brightly polished mainly for show—it had been
centuries
since a dragon had come east. There were the
usual
periodic problems with royal children and un-
invited
fairy godmothers, but they were always the sort
of
thing that could be cleared up by finding the proper
prince
or princess to marry the unfortunate child a few
years
later. All in all, Linderwall was a very prosperous
and
pleasant place.
Cimorene
hated it.
Cimorene
was the youngest daughter of the King
of
Linderwall, and her parents found her rather trying.
Their
first six daughters were perfectly normal prin-
cesses,
with long, golden hair and sweet dispositions,
each
more beautiful than the last. Cimorene was lovely
enough,
but her hair was jet black, and she wore it in
braids
instead of curled and pinned like her sisters.
And she
wouldn't stop growing. Her parents were
quite
sure that no prince would want to marry a girl
who
could look him in the eye instead of gazing up at
him
becomingly through her lashes. As for the girl's
disposition—well,
when people were being polite, they
said
she was strong-minded. When they were angry or
annoyed
with her, they said she was as stubborn as a
Pig-
The
King and Queen did the best they could. They
hired
the most superior tutors and governesses to teach
Cimorene
all the things a princess ought to know—
dancing,
embroidery, drawing, and etiquette. There
was a
great deal of etiquette, from the proper way to
curtsy
before a visiting prince to how loudly it was
permissible
to scream when being carried off by a giant.
(Linderwall
still had an occasional problem with giants.)
Cimorene
found it all very dull, but she pressed
her
lips together and learned it anyway. When she
couldn't
stand it any longer, sh^ would go down to the
castle
armory and bully the armsmaster into giving her
a
fencing lesson. As she got older, she found her reg-
ular
lessons more and more boring. Consequently, the
fencing
lessons became more and more frequent.
When
she was twelve, her father found out.
"Fencing
is not proper behavior for a princess," he
told
her in the gentle-but-firm tone recommended by
the
court philosopher.
Cimorene
tilted her head to one side. "Why not?"
"It's
. . . well, it's simply not done."
Cimorene
considered. "Aren't I a princess?"
"Yes,
of course you are, my dear," said her father
with
relief. He had been bracing himself for a storm of
tears,
which was the way his other daughters reacted
to
reprimands.
"Well,
I fence," Cimorene said with the air of one
delivering
an unshakable argument. "So it is too done
by a
princess."
"That
doesn't make it proper, dear," put in her
mother
gently.
"Why
not?"
"It
simply doesn't," the Queen said firmly, and
that
was the end of Cimorene's fencing lessons.
When
she was fourteen, her father discovered that
she was
making the court magician teach her magic.
"How
long has this been going on?" he asked
wearily
when she arrived in response to his summons.
"Since
you stopped my fencing lessons," Cimorene
said.
"I suppose you're going to tell me it isn't proper
behavior
for a princess."
"Well,
yes. I mean, it isn't proper."
"Nothing
interesting seems to be proper," Cim-
orene
said.
"You
might find things more interesting if you
applied
yourself a little more, dear," Cimorene's
mother
said.
"I
doubt it," Cimorene muttered, but she knew
better
than to argue when her mother used that tone
of
voice. And that was the end of the magic lessons.
The
same thing happened over the Latin lessons
from
the court philosopher, the cooking lessons from
the
castle chef, the economics lessons from the court
treasurer,
and the juggling lessons from the court min-
strel.
Cimorene began to grow rather tired of the whole
business.
When
she was sixteen, Cimorene summoned her
fairy
godmother.
"Cimorene,
my dear, this sort of thing really isn't
done,"
the fairy said, fanning away the scented blue
smoke
that had accompanied her appearance.
"People
keep telling me that," Cimorene said.
"You
should pay attention to them, then," her
godmother
said irritably. "I'm not used to being hauled
away
from my tea without warning. And you aren't
supposed
to call me unless it is a matter of utmost
importance
to your life and future happiness."
"It
is of utmost importance to my life and future
happiness,"
Cimorene said.
"Oh,
very well. You're a bit young to have fallen
in love
already; still, you always have been a precocious
child.
Tell me about him."
Cimorene
sighed. "It isn't a him."
"Enchanted,
is he?" the fairy said with a spark of
interest.
"A frog, perhaps? That used to be quite pop-
ular,
but it seems to have gone out of fashion lately.
Nowadays,
all the princes are talking birds, or dogs,
or
hedgehogs."
"No,
no, I'm not in love with anyone!"
"Then
what, exactly, is your problem?" the fairy
said in
exasperation.
"This!"
Cimorene gestured at the castle around
her.
"Embroidery lessons, and dancing, and—and
being a
princess!"
"My
dear Cimorene!" the fairy said, shocked. "It's
your
heritage!"
"Ifs
boring."
"Boring?"
The fairy did not appear to believe what
she was
hearing.
"Boring.
I want to do things, not sit around all day
and
listen to the court minstrel make up songs about
how
brave Daddy is and how lovely his wife and
daughters
are."
"Nonsense,
my dear. This is just a stage you're
going through.
You'll outgrow it soon, and you'll be
very
glad you didn't do anything rash."
Cimorene
looked at her godmother suspiciously.
"You've
been talking to my parents, haven't you?"
"Well,
they do try to keep me up to date on what
my
godchildren are doing."
"I
thought so," said Cimorene, and bade her fairy
godmother
a polite good-bye.
A few
weeks later, Cimorene's parents took her to a
tourney
in Sathem-by-the-Mountains, the next king-
dom
over. Cimorene was quite sure that they were only
taking
her because her fairy godmother had told them
that
something had better be done about her, and soon.
She
kept this opinion to herself. Anything was better
than
the endless rounds of dancing and embroidery
lessons
at home.
Cimorene
realized her mistake almost as soon as
they
reached their destination, for the King of Sathem-
by-the-Mountains
had a son. He was a golden-haired,
blue-eyed,
and exceedingly handsome prince, whose
duties
appeared to consist entirely of dancing atten-
dance
on Cimorene.
"Isn't
he handsome!" Cimorene's lady-in-waiting
sighed.
"Yes,"
Cimorene said without enthusiasm. "Un-
fortunately,
he isn't anything else."
"Whatever
do you mean?" the lady-in-waiting said
in
astonishment.
"He
has no sense of humor, he isn't intelligent, he
can't
talk about anything except tourneys, and half of
what he
does say he gets wrong. I'm glad we're only
staying
three weeks. I don't think I could stand to be
polite
to him for much longer than that."
"But
what about your engagement?" the lady-in-
waiting
cried, horrified.
"What
engagement?" Cimorene said sharply.
The
lady-in-waiting tried to mutter something
about a
mistake, but Cimorene put up her chin in her
best
princess fashion and insisted on an explanation.
Finally,
the lady-in-waiting broke down.
"I
... I overheard Their Majesties discussing it
yesterday."
She sniffled into her handkerchief. "The
stipulations
and covenants and contracts and settle-
ments
have all been drawn up, and they're going to
sign
them the day after tomorrow and announce it on
Th-Thursday."
"I
see," said Cimorene. "Thank you for telling me.
You may
go."
The
lady-in-waiting left, and Cimorene went to see
her-
parents. They were annoyed and a little embar-
rassed
to find that Cimorene had discovered their
plans,
but they were still very firm about it. "We were
going
to tell you tomorrow, when we signed the pa-
pers,"
her father said.
"We
knew you'd be pleased, dear," her mother
said,
nodding. "He's such a good-looking boy."
"But
I don't want to marry Prince Therandil," Cim-
orene
said.
"Well,
it's not exactly a brilliant match," Cim-
orene's
father said, frowning. "But I didn't think you'd
care
how^big his kingdom is."
"It's
the prince I don't care for," Cimorene said.
"That's
a great pity, dear, but it can't be helped,"
Cimorene's
mother said placidly. "I'm afraid it isn't
likely
that you'll get another offer."
"Then
I won't get married at all."
Both
her parents looked slightly shocked. "My dear
Cimorene!"
said her father. "That's out of the question.
You're
a princess; it simply isn't done."
"I'm
too young to get married!"
"Your
Great-Aunt Rose was married at sixteen,"
her
mother pointed out. "One really can't count all
those
years she spent asleep under that dreadful fairy's
curse."
"I
won't marry the prince of Sathem-by-the-Moun-
tains!"
Cimorene said desperately. "It isn't proper!"
"What?"
said both her parents together.
"He
hasn't rescued me from a giant or an ogre or
freed
me from a magic spell," Cimorene said.
Both
her parents looked uncomfortable. "Well,
no,"
said Cimorene's father. "It's a bit late to start
arranging
it, but we might be able to manage some-
thing."
"I
don't think it's necessary," Cimorene's mother
said.
She looked reprovingly at Cimorene. "You've
never
paid attention to what was or wasn't suitable
before,
dear; you can't start now. Proper or not, you
will
marry Prince Therandil three weeks from Thurs-
day."
"But,
Mother—"
"I'll
send the wardrobe mistress to your room to
start
fitting your bride clothes," Cimorene's mother said
firmly,
and that was the end of the conversation.
Cimorene
decided to try a more direct approach. She
went to
see Prince Therandil. He was in the castle
armory,
looking at swords. "Good morning. Princess,"
he said
when he finally noticed Cimorene. "Don't you
think
this is a lovely sword?"
Cimorene
picked it up. "The balance is off."
"I
believe you're right," said Therandil after a mo-
ment's
study. "Pity; now I'll have to find another. Is
there
something I can do for you?"
"Yes,"
said Cimorene. "You can not marry me."
"What?"
Therandil looked confused.
"You
don't really want to marry me, do you?"
Cimorene
said coaxingly.
"Well,
not exactly," Therandil replied. "I mean, in
a way.
That is—"
"Oh,
good," Cimorene said, correctly interpreting
this
muddled reply as No, not at all. "Then you'll tell
your
father you don't want to marry me?"
"I
couldn't do that!" Therandil said, shocked. "It
wouldn't
be right."
"Why
not?" Cimorene demanded crossly.
"Because—because—well,
because princes just
don't
do that!"
"Then
how are you going to keep from marrying
me?"
"I
guess I won't be able to," Therandil said after
thinking
hard for a moment. "How do you like that
sword
over there? The one with the silver hilt?"
Cimorene
left in disgust and went out to the castle
garden.
She was very discouraged. It looked as if she
were
going to marry the prince of Sathem-by-the-
Mountains
whether she wanted to or not.
"I'd
rather be eaten by a dragon," she muttered.
"That
can be arranged," said a voice from beside
her
left slipper.
Qmorene
looked down and saw a small green frog
looking
up at her. "I beg your pardon. Did you speak?"
she
asked.
"You
don't see anyone else around, do you?" said
the
frog.
"Oh!"
said Cimorene. She had never met a talking
frog
before. "Are you an enchanted prince?" she asked
a
little doubtfully.
"No,
but I've met a couple of them, and after a
while
you pick up a few things," said the frog. "Now,
why is
it that you want to be eaten by a dragon?"
"My
parents want me to marry Prince Therandil,"
Cimorene
explained.
"And
you don't want to? Sensible of you," said
the
frog. "I don't like Therandil. He used to skip rocks
across
the top of my pond. They always sank into my
living
room."
"I'm
sorry," Cimorene said politely.
"Well,"
said the frog, "what are you going to do
about
it?"
"Marrying
Therandil? I don't know. I've tried talk-
ing to
my parents, but they won't'listen, and neither
will
Therandil."
"I
didn't ask what you'd said about it," the frog
snapped.
"I asked what you're going to do. Nine times
out of
ten, talking is a way of avoiding doing things."
"What
kinds of things would you suggest?" Cim-
orene
said, stung.
"You
could challenge the prince to a duel," the
frog
suggested.
"He'd
win," Cimorene said. "It's been four years
since
I've been allowed to do any fencing."
"You
could turn him into a toad."
"I
never got past invisibility in my magic les-
sons,"
Cimorene said. "Transformations are advanced
study."
The
frog looked at her disapprovingly. "Can't you
do
anything?"
"I
can curtsy," Cimorene said disgustedly. "I know
seventeen
different country dances, nine ways to agree
with an
ambassador from Cathay without actually
promising
him anything, and one hundred and forty-
three
embroidery stitches. And I can make cherries
jubilee."
"Cherries
jubilee?" asked the frog, and snapped at
a
passing fly.
10
"The
castle chef taught me, before Father made
him
stop," Cimorene explained.
The
frog munched briefly, then swallowed and
said,
"I suppose there's no help for it. You'll have to
run
away."
"Run
away?" Cimorene said. "I don't like that
idea.
Too many things could go wrong."
"You
don't like the idea of marrying Prince The-
randil,
either," the frog pointed out.
"Maybe
I can think of some other way out of get-
ting
married."
The
frog snorted. "Such as?" Cimorene didn't an-
swer,
and after a moment the frog said, "I thought so.
Do you
want my advice or not?"
"Yes,
please," said Cimorene. After all, she didn't
have to
follow it.
"Go
to the main road outside the city and follow
it away
from the mountains," said the frog. "After a
while,
you will come to a small pavilion made of gold,
surrounded
by trees made of silver with emerald leaves.
Go
straight past it without stopping, and don't answer
if
anyone calls out to you from the pavilion. Keep on
until
you reach a hovel. Walk straight up to the door
and
knock three times, then snap your fingers and go
inside.
You'll find some people there who can help you
out of
your difficulties if you're polite about asking and
they're
in the right mood. And that's all."
The
frog turned abruptly and dove into the pool.
"Thank
you very much," Cimorene called after it,
thinking
"that the frog's advice sounded very odd in-
deed.
She rose and went back into the castle.
11
She
spent the rest of the day being fitted and fussed
over by
her ladies-in-waiting until she was ready to
scream.
By the end of the formal banquet, at which she
had to
sit next to Prince Therandil and listen to endless
stories
of his prowess in battle, Cimorene was more
than
ready to take the frog's advice.
Late
that night, when most of the castle was asleep,
Cimorene
bundled up five clean handkerchiefs and her
best
crown. Then she dug out the notes she had taken
during
her magic lessons and carefully cast a spell of
invisibility.
It seemed to work, but she was still very
watchful
as she sneaked out of the castle. After all, it
had
been a long time since she had practiced.
By
morning, Cimorene was well outside the city
and
visible again, walking down the main road that led
away
from the mountains. It was hot and dusty, and
she
began to wish she had brought a bottle of water
instead
of the handkerchiefs.
Just
before noon, she spied a small grove of trees
next to
the road ahead of her. It looked like a cool,
pleasant
place to rest for a few minutes, and she hurried
forward.
When she reached the grove, however, she
saw
that the trees were made of the finest silver, and
their
shining green leaves were huge emeralds. In the
center
of the grove stood a charming pavilion made of
gold
and hung with gold curtains.
Cimorene
slowed down and looked longingly at
the
cool green shade beneath the trees. Just then a
woman's
voice called out from the pavilion, "My dear,
you
look so tired and thirsty! Come and sit with me
and
share my luncheon."
12
The
voice was so kind and coaxing that Cimorene
took
two steps toward the edge of the road before she
remembered
the frog's advice. Oh, no, she thought to
herself,
I'm not going to be caught this easily! She turned
without
saying anything and hurried on down the road.
A
little farther on she came to a tiny, wretched-
looking
hovel made of cracked and weathered gray
boards.
The door hung slantwise on a broken hinge,
and the
whole building looked as though it were going
to
topple over at any moment. Cimorene stopped and
stared
doubtfully at it, but she had followed the frog's
advice
this far, and she thought it would be silly to
stop
now. So she shook the dust from her skirts and
put on
her crown (so as to make a good impression).
She
marched up to the door, knocked three times, and
snapped
her fingers just as the frog had told her. Then
she
pushed the door open and went in.
2
In
Which Cimorene Discovers the Value
of a
Classical Education and Has Some
Unwelcome
Visitors
J,
nside,
the hovel was dark and cool and damp. Cim-
orene
found it a pleasant relief after the hot, dusty road,
but she
wondered why no sunlight seemed to be com-
ing
through the cracks in the boards. She was still
standing
just inside the door, waiting for her eyes to
adjust
to the dark, when someone said crossly, "Is this
that
princess we've been waiting for?"
"Why
don't you ask her?" said a deep, rumbly
voice.
"I'm
Princess Cimorene of Linderwall," Cimorene
answered
politely. "I was told you could help me."
"Help
her?" said the first voice, and Cimorene
heard a
snort. "I think we should just eat her and be
done
with it."
Cimorene
began to feel frightened. She wondered
whether
the voices belonged to ogres or trolls and
whether
she could slip out of the hovel before they
made up
their minds about eating her. She felt behind
her for
the door and started in surprise when her fin-
gers
touched damp stone instead of dry wood. Then a
third
voice said, "Not so fast, Woraug. Let's hear her
story
first."
So
Cimorene took a deep breath and began to ex-
plain
about the fencing lessons and the magic lessons,
and the
Latin and the juggling, and all the other things
that
weren't considered proper behavior for a princess,
and she
told the voices that she had run away from
Sathem-by-the-Mountains
to keep from having to
marry
Prince Therandil.
"And
what do you expect us to do about it?" one
of the
voices asked curiously.
"I
don't know," Cimorene said. "Except, of course,
that I
would rather not be eaten. I can't see who you
are in
this dark, you know."
"That
can be fixed," said the voice. A moment
later,
a small ball of light appeared in the air above
Cimorene's
head. Cimorene stepped backward very
quickly
and ran into the wall.
The
voices belonged to dragons.
Five of
them lay on or sprawled over or curled
around
the various rocks and columns that filled the
huge
cave where Cimorene stood. Each of the males
(there
were three) had two short, stubby, sharp-looking
horns
on either side of their heads; the female dragon
had
three, one on each side and one in the center of
her
forehead. The last dragon was apparently still too
young
to have made up its mind which sex it wanted
to be;
it didn't have any horns at all.
Cimorene
felt very frightened. The smallest of the
dragons
was easily three times as tall as she was, and
they
gave an overwhelming impression of shining
green
scales and sharp silver teeth. They were much
scarier
in person than in the pictures she remembered
from
her natural history books. She swallowed very
hard,
wondering whether she really would rather be
eaten
by a dragon than marry Therandil.
"Well?"
said the three-homed dragon just in front
of her.
"Just what are you asking us to do for you?"
"I—"
Cimorene stopped short as an idea occurred
to her.
Cautiously, she asked, "Dragons are . . . are
fond of
princesses, aren't they?"
"Very,"
said the dragon, and smiled. The smile
showed
all her teeth, which Cimorene did not find
reassuring.
"That
is, I've heard of dragons who have captive
princesses
to cook for them and—and so on," said Cim-
orene,
who had very little idea what captive princesses
did all
day.
The
dragon in front of Cimorene nodded. One of
the
others, a yellowish green in color, shifted restlessly
and
said, "Oh, let's just go ahead and eat her. It will
save
trouble."
Before
any of the other dragons could answer,
there
was a loud, booming noise, and a sixth dragon
16
slithered
into the cave. His scales were more gray than
green,
and the dragons by the door made way for him
respectfully.
"Kazul!"
said the newcomer in a loud voice.
"Achoo!
Sorry I'm late, but a terrible thing happened
on the
way here, achoo!"
"What
was it?" said the dragon to whom Cimorene
had
been talking.
"Ran
into a wizard. Achoo! Had to eat him; no help
for it.
Achoo, achoo. And now look at me!" Every time
the
gray-green dragon sneezed, he emitted a small ball
of fire
that scorched the wall of the cave.
"Calm
down, Roxim," said Kazul. "You're only
making
it worse."
"Achoo!
Calm down? When I'm having an allergy
attack?
Achoo, oh, bother, achoo!" said the gray-green
dragon.
"Somebody give me a handkerchief. Achoo!"
"Here,"
said Cimorene, holding out one of the
ones
she had brought with her. "Use this." She was
beginning
to feel much less frightened, for the gray-
green
dragon reminded her of her great-uncle, who was
old and
rather hard of hearing and of whom she was
rather
fond.
"What's
that?" said Roxim. "Achoo! Oh, hurry up
and
give it here."
Kazul
took the handkerchief from Cimorene, using
two
claws very delicately, and passed it to Roxim. The
gray-green
dragon mopped his streaming eyes and
blew
his nose. "That's better, I think. Achoo! Oh, drat!"
The
ball of fire that accompanied the dragon's
sneeze
had reduced the handkerchief to a charred
17
scrap.
Cimorene hastily dug out another one and
handed
it to Kazul, feeling very glad that she had
brought
several spares.
Roxim
went through two more handkerchiefs be-
fore
his sneezing spasms finally stopped. "Much bet-
ter,"
he said. "Now then, who's this that lent me the
handkerchiefs?
Somebody's new princess, eh?"
"We
were just discussing that when you came in,"
Kazul
said, and turned back to Cimorene. "You were
saying?
About cooking and so on."
"Couldn't
I do that for one of you for a while?"
Cimorene
said.
The
dragon smiled again; and Cimorene swallowed
hard.
"Possibly. Why would you want to do that?"
"Because
then I wouldn't have to go home and
marry
Therandil," Cimorene said. "Being a dragon's
princess
is a perfectly respectable thing to do, so my
parents
couldn't complain. And it would be much more
interesting
than embroidery and dancing lessons."
Several
of the dragons made snorting or choking
noises.
Cimorene jumped, then decided that they were
laughing.
"This
is ridiculous," said a large, bright green
dragon
on Cimorene's left.
"Why?"
asked Kazul.
"A
princess volunteering? Out of the question!"
"Thafs
easy for you to say," one of the other drag-
ons
grumbled. "You already have a princess. What
about
the rest of us?"
"Yes,
don't be stuffy, Woraug," said another. "Be-
sides,
what else can we do with her?"
18
"Eat
her," suggested the yellowish green dragon
in a
bored tone.
"No
proper princess would come out looking for
dragons,"
Woraug objected.
"Well,
I'm not a proper princess, then," Cimorene
snapped.
"I make cherries jubilee, and I volunteer for
dragons,
and I conjugate Latin verbs—or at least I
would
if anyone would let me. So there!"
"Hear,
hear," said the gray-green dragon.
"You
see?" Woraug said. "Who would want an
improper
princess?"
"I
would," said Kazul.
"You
can't be serious, Kazul," Woraug said irri-
tably.
"Why?"
"I
like cherries jubilee," Kazul replied, still watch-
ing
Cimorene. "And I like the look of her. Besides, the
Latin
scrolls in my library need cataloguing, and if I
can't
find someone who knows a little of the language,
I'll
have to do it myself."
"Give
her a trial run first," a purplish green dragon
advised.
Woraug
snorted. "Latin and cherries jubilee! And
for
that you'd take on a black-haired, snippy little—"
"I'll
thank you to be polite when you're discussing
my
princess," Kazul said, and smiled fiercely.
"Nice
little gal," Roxim said, nodding approvingly
and
waving Cimorene's next-to-last handkerchief. "Got
sense.
Be good for you, Kazul."
"If
that's settled, I'm going to go find a snack,"
said
the yellowish green dragon.
Woraug
looked around, but the other dragons
seemed
to agree with Roxim. "Oh, very well," Woraug
said
grumpily. "It's your choice, after all, Kazul."
"It
certainly is. Now, Princess, if you'll come this
way,
I'll get you settled in."
Cimorene
followed Kazul across the cave and
down a
tunnel. To her relief, the ball of light came with
her.
She had the uncomfortable feeling'that if she had
tried
to walk behind Kazul in the dark, she would have
stepped
on her tail, which would not have been a good
beginning.
Kazul
led Cimorene through a long maze of tunnels
and
finally stopped in another cave. "Here we are,"
the
dragon said. "You can use the small room over on
the
right. I believe my last princess left most of the
furnishings
behind when she ran off with the knight."
"Thank
you," Cimorene said. "When do I start my
duties?
And what are they, please?"
"You
start right away," said Kazul. "I'll want din-
ner at
seven. In the meantime, you can begin sorting
the
treasure." The dragon nodded toward a dark open-
ing on
the left. "I'm sure some of it needs repairing.
There's
at least one suit of armor with the leg off, and
some of
the cheaper magic swords are probably getting
rusty.
The rest of it really ought to be rearranged sen-
sibly.
I can never find anything when I want it."
"What
about the library you mentioned?" Cim-
orene
asked.
"We'll
see how well you do on the treasure room
first,"
Kazul said. "The rest of your job I'll explain as
we go
along. You don't object to learning a little magic,
do
you?"
20
"Not
at all," said Cimorene.
"Good.
It'll make things much easier. Go and wash
up, and
I'll let you into the treasure room so you can
get
started."
Cimorene
nodded and went to the room Kazul had
told
her to use. As she washed her face and hands,
she
felt happier than she had in a long time. She was
not
going to have to marry Therandil, and sorting a
dragon's
treasure sounded far more interesting than
dandng
or embroidery. She was even going to learn
some
magic! And her parents wouldn't worry about
her,
once they found out where she was. For the first
time in
her life, Cimorene was glad she was a princess.
She
dried her hands and turned to go back into the
main
cave, wondering how best to persuade Kazul to
help
her brush up on her Latin. She didn't want the
dragon
to be disappointed in her skill.
"Draco,
draconem, dracone," she muttered, and her
lips
curved into a smile. She had always been rather
good at
declining nouns. Still smiling, she started for-
ward to
begin her new duties.
Cimorene
settled in very quickly. She got along well
with
Kazul and learned her way around the caves with
a
minimum of mishaps. Actually, the caves were more
like an
intricate web of tunnels, connecting caverns of
various
shapes and sizes that belonged to individual
dragons.
It reminded Cimorene of an underground city
with
tunnels instead of streets. She had no idea how
far the
tunnels extended, though she rather suspected
that
some of them had been magicked, so that when
21
you
walked down them you went a lot farther than
you
thought you were going.
Kazul's
section of the caves was fairly large. IP
addition
to the kitchen—which was in a large cave near
the
exit, so that there wouldn't be a problem with the
smoke
from the fire—she had a sleeping cavern, three
enormous
treasure rooms at the far end of an intricate
maze of
twisty little passages, two even more enormous
storage
rooms for less valuable items, a library, a large,
bare
cave for eating and visiting with other dragons,
and the
set of rooms assigned to Cimorene. All the
caves
smelled of dragon, a somewhat musty, smoky
dnnamony
smell. Cimorene's first job was to air them
out.
Cimorene's
rooms consisted of three small con-
necting
caves, just off Kazul's living cavern. They were
furnished
very comfortably in a mixture of styles and
periods,
and looked just like the guest rooms in most
of the
castles Cimorene had visited, only without win-
dows.
They were much too small for a dragon to get
inside.
When asked, Kazul said that the dwarves had
made
them in return for a favor, and the dragon's tone
prevented
Cimorene from inquiring too closely into just
what
sort of favor it had been.
By the
end of the first week, Cimorene was sure
enough
of her position to give Kazul a list of things
that
she needed in the kitchen. The previous princess—
of whom
Cimorene was beginning to have a very poor
opinion—had
apparently made do with a large skillet
with
three dents and a wobbly handle, a wooden mix-
ing
bowl with a crack in it, a badly tarnished copper
teakettle,
and an assortment of mismatched plates,
22
cups,
and silverware, most of them chipped or bent.
Kazul
seemed pleased by the request, and the fol-
lowing
day Cimorene had everything she had asked
for,
except for a few of the more exotic pans and dishes.
This
made the cooking considerably easier and gave
Cimorene
more time to spend studying Latin and sort-
ing
treasure. The treasure was just as disorganized as
Kazul
had told her, and putting it in order was a major
task.
It was sometimes hard to tell whether a ring was
enchanted,
and Cimorene knew better than to put it
on and
see. It might be the sort of useful magic ring
that
turned you invisible, but it might also be the sort
of ring
that turned you into a frog. Cimorene did the
best
she could and kept a pile in the corner for things
she was
not sure about.
There
was a great deal of treasure to be sorted.
Most of
it was stacked in one of the innermost caves
in a
large, untidy heap of crowns, rings, jewels, swords,
and
coins, but Cimorene kept finding things in other
places
as well, some of them quite unlikely. There was
a small
helmet under her bed (along with a great deal
of
dust), a silver bracelet set with opals on the reading
table
in the library, and two daggers and a jeweled ink
pot
behind the kitchen stove. Cimorene collected them
all,
along with the other things that were simply lying
around
in the halls, and put them back in the store-
rooms
where they belonged, thinking to herself that
dragons
were clearly not very tidy creatures.
The
first of the Knights arrived at the end of the second
week.
Cimorene
was busy cleaning swords. Kazul had
-23
been
right about their condition; not only were some
of them
rusty, but nearly all of them needed sharp-
ening.
She was polishing the last flakes of rust from an
enormous
broadsword when she heard someone calling
from
the mouth of the cave. Feeling somewhat irritated
by the
interruption, she rose and, carrying the sword,
went to
see who it was.
As she
came nearer to the entrance, she was able
to make
out the words that whoever-it-was was shout-
ing:
"Dragon! Come out and fight! Fight for the Princess
Cimorene
of Linderwall!"
"Oh,
honestly," Cimorene muttered, and quick-
ened
her step. "Here, you," she said as she came out
into
the sunlight. Then she had to duck as a spear
flashed
through the air over her head. "Stop that!" she
cried.
"I'm Princess Cimorene."
"You
are?" said a doubtful voice. "Are you sure?
I
mean—"
Cimorene
raised her head cautiously and squinted.
It was
still fairly early in the morning, and the sun was
in back
of the person standing outside the cave, so that
it was
difficult to see anything but the outline of his
figure
against the brightness. "Of course I'm sure,"
Cimorene
said. "What did you expect, letters of ref-
erence?
Come around here where I can see who you
are,
please."
The
figure moved sideways, and Cimorene saw
that it
was a knight in shiny new armor, except for the
legs,
where the armor was dusty from walking. Cim-
orene
wondered briefly why he hadn't ridden, but de-
dded
not to ask. The knight's visor was raised, and a
24
few
wisps of sandy hair showed above his handsome
face.
He was studying her with an expression of wor-
ried
puzzlement.
"What
can I do for you?" Cimorene said after sev-
eral
moments had gone by and the knight still hadn't
said
anything.
"Well,
um> if you are the Princess Cimorene, I've
come to
rescue you from the dragon," the knight said.
Cimorene
set the point of the broadsword on the
ground
and leaned on it as if it were a walking cane.
"I
thought that might be it," she said. "But I'd rather
not be
rescued, thank you just the same."
"Not
be rescued?" The knighfs puzzled look deep-
ened.
"But princesses always—"
"No,
they don't," Cimorene said firmly, recogniz-
ing the
beginning of a familiar argument. "And even
if I
wanted to be rescued, you're going at it all wrong."
"What?"
said the knight, thoroughly taken aback.
"Shouting,
'Come out and fight,' the way you did.
No
self-respecting dragon is going to answer to a chal-
lenge
like that. It sounds like a child's dare. Dragons
are
very consdous of their dignity, at least all the ones
I've
met so far are."
"Oh,"
said the knight, sounding very crestfallen.
"What
should I have said?"
"
'Stand forth and do battle' is the usual chal-
lenge,"
Cimorene said with authority, remembering her
princess
lessons. She had always been more interested
in what
the knights and dragons were supposed to say
than in
memorizing the places where she was supposed
to
scream. "But the wording doesn't have to be exact
as long
as it's suitably formal. You're new at this, aren't
you?"
"Rescuing
you was going to be my first big quest,"
the
knight said gloomily. "You're sure you don't want
to be
rescued?"
"Quite
sure," Cimorene said. "I like living with
Kazul."
"You
like—" The knight stared at her for a moment.
Then
his expression cleared and he said, "Of course!
The
dragon's enchanted you. I should have thought of
that
before."
"Kazul
has not enchanted me, and I do not want
to be
rescued by anybody," Cimorene said, alarmed by
the
knight's sudden enthusiasm. "This place suits me
very
well. I like polishing swords and cooking cher-
ries
jubilee and reading Latin scrolls. If you don't
believe
me, ask anyone in Linderwall. They've been
complaining
about my un-princesslike behavior for
years."
"I
did hear something about fencing lessons," the
knight
said doubtfully, "but knights aren't supposed
to pay
attention to that kind of thing. We're supposed
to be
above rumors and gossip."
'The
fencing lessons were just the beginning,"
Cimorene
assured him. "So you see why I'm perfectly
happy
being a dragon's princess."
"Um,
yes," said the knight, but he did not look
convinced.
"Speaking of dragons, where's yours?"
"Kazul's
not my dragon," Cimorene said sharply.
"I'm
her princess. You'll never have any luck dealing
with
dragons if you don't get these things straight.
26
She's
gone to the Enchanted Forest on the other side
of the
mountains to borrow a crepe pan from a witch
she
knows."
"She's
what?" said the knight.
"She's
gone to borrow a crepe pan," Cimorene
repeated
in a louder voice. "Perhaps you'd better have
your
helmet checked when you get back. They're not
supposed
to interfere with your hearing, but some-
times—"
"Oh,
I heard you," the knight said. "But what does
a
dragon want with a crepe pan?"
"She
doesn't want it; I do. I found a recipe in the
library
that I want to try, and the kitchen just isn't
equipped
to handle anything but the most ordinary
cooking.
Kazul will fix that eventually, but for the time
being
we have to borrow things like crepe pans and
souffle
dishes."
"You
really do like it here," the knight said won-
deringly.
Cimorene
refrained from replying that this was
what
she had been trying to tell him all along and
instead
said, "How did you know where I was?"
"Things
get around." The knight waved a hand in
a vague
manner. "In fact, I had to hurry to make sure
I was
the first. Half of the Kingdom of Linderwall and
a
princess's hand in marriage is a reward rich enough
to
tempt a lot of people who wouldn't normally bother
with
this sort of thing."
"Father's
offered half the kingdom to whoever res-
cues
me?" Cimorene said incredulously. "That's more
than
all my sisters' dowries put together!"
"It's
the usual thing in cases like this," the knight
said
mildly.
"It
would be," Cimorene said in tones of deep
disgust.
"Well, at least you can go back and tell them
I don't
want to be rescued. Maybe that will keep anyone
else
from coming up here."
"I
can't do that!" the knight said. "Ifs—"
"—just
not done," Cimorene finished. "I under-
stand
perfectly." She gave him a polite farewell, more
because
she had been well brought up than because
she
felt like being polite, and sent him on his way.
Then
she went back into the cave and polished the
broadsword
until it was mirror-bright, which relieved
her
feelings a little.
There
were two knights the following day, and four
more
the day after that. On the fourth day there was
only
one, but he was exceptionally stubborn, and it
took
Cimorene nearly two hours to get rid of him. By
then
she was thoroughly disgusted and even consid-
ered
letting Kazul handle the knights from then on.
She
could not quite bring herself to do it. The knights
would
certainly attack Kazul as soon as they saw her,
since
that was what they were coming for, and sooner
or
later someone would get hurt. Cimorene did not like
to
think that someone might be hurt trying to rescue
her,
particularly since she did not want to be rescued,
so with
a sigh she decided that she would continue to
handle
the knights as long as Kazul would let her.
Prince
Therandil showed up at the end of the third
week.
He was limping a little, as if his metal boots
pinched
his toes, and the feathers attached to the top
28
of his
helmet sagged badly. He stopped and carefully
struck
an impressive pose before issuing the usual
challenge.
Cimorene
was not in a mood to be impressed.
Besides,
she could see that his helmet was a different
style
from his gold armor and that the armor had gaps
at the
knees and elbows where it didn't fit together
quite
right.
"Aren't
you a little slow?" she asked irritably.
"There've
been eight knights here before you."
"Eight?"
the prince said, frowning. "I thought by
now
there'd have been at least twelve. Perhaps I'd
better
come back later."
Cimorene
stared at him in surprise. "Why?"
"Well,
it would look better," Therandil explained
seriously.
"There's not much glory in defeating a
dragon
that hasn't already beaten ten or fifteen people
at
least. Sir Gorolax of Mirstwold won't even consider
going
after a dragon whose score is less than forty-five.
I don't
think I want to risk waiting that long, but eight
just
doesn't seem like enough."
"You're
going to go away and wait until Kazul has
defeated
fifteen knights before you come back to rescue
me?"
Cimorene said. She found Therandil's smug con-
fidence
very annoying, but she didn't like to say so
straight
out.
"Not
if you'd rather be rescued now, of course,"
Therandil
said hastily. "Though you ought to consid-
er the
advantages, and I expect it won't be so very
long .
. ." His voice trailed off, and he looked at her
hopefully.
'Tm
afraid it will be a very long time," Cimorene
29
said
with satisfaction. "You see, Kazul hasn't defeated
any
knights at all yet."
"B-b-but
I thought you said there'd been eight,"
Therandil
spluttered.
"I
said eight of them had come by; I didn't say
they'd
fought anybody. I sent them away."
"You
sent them away?" Therandil repeated, plainly
horrified.
"But that's—that's—"
"—not
done, I know." Cimorene smiled sweetly.
"But
I've done it. And I intend to go on doing it, so
you
might as well go home and warn your friends.
They'd
feel so foolish, you know, if they came all this
way
into the mountains to rescue me and then had to
turn
around and go back home without doing any-
thing."
"They
certainly would!" Therandil said indig-
nantly.
"What do you mean by playing these kinds of
tricks?
Don't you want to be rescued?"
"No,"
said Cimorene, losing her patience at last,
"I
don't. And I'm tired of having my work constantly
interrupted.
So please go away, and don't come back."
"You
can't possibly mean that," Therandil said.
"Besides,
everyone expects me to rescue you."
"That's
your problem," Cimorene told him. "I'm
going
to go fix dinner. Good-bye." Before he could say
anything
else, she turned and ducked back into the
cave,
hoping the prince wouldn't follow.
30
3
In
Which Cimorene Meets a Witch
and Has
Doubts about a Wizard
Iherandil
left, but he came back again the next day,
and the
day after that. It got so that Cimorene could
not
even step outside the cave without running into
him. She
might have been flattered if it hadn't been so
obvious
that Therandil was only worried about how
foolish
he'd look if he went home without fighting the
dragon.
On his fifth visit Cimorene was very sharp with
him,
and when he had not returned by midaftemoon
of the
next day, she began to hope that he had finally
left
for good.
Cimorene
was in the kitchen taking the pits out of
cherries
when she heard someone knocking at the
mouth
of the cave.
"Go
away," she shouted in complete exasperation.
"I've
told you and told you, I don't want to be rescued,
and I'm
not going to argue with you any more!"
"I
didn't come here to argue," said a no-nonsense
female
voice from outside. "I came to meet the person
who
keeps borrowing my crepe pan. It's not something
there's
normally much call for."
"Oh,
dear," said Cimorene. She wiped her hands
hastily
on a comer of her apron and hurried out to
greet
her visitor. "I'm sorry," she said, coming around
the
gray rock at the cave mouth. "But I've been having
a
problem with knights lately, and I thought—" She
stopped
short as she got a good look at her caller for
me
first time.
The
woman standing outside the cave was consid-
erably
shorter than Cimorene. Her ginger hair was piled
in
waves on top of her head. She had on a loose black
robe
with long sleeves, which she wore unbelted. A
small
pair of glasses with rectangular lenses sat firmly
on her
nose, and she carried an extremely twiggy
broom
in her left hand. Despite her unusual appear-
ance, she
projected an air of great self-assurance.
"I
quite understand," she said, studying Cimorene
shrewdly.
"You must be Kazul's new princess."
"Yes,
I'm Cimorene. And you are . . . ?"
"Morwen,"
said the black-robed woman, leaning
the
broom against the rock. "Kazul and I have been
friends
for a long time, ever since I moved to the En-
chanted
Forest, so I thought I'd come have a look at
her new
princess."
"You're
the person Kazul's been borrowing dishes
32
from,
aren't you?" Cimorene said, and blinked. "But
then
you must be—"
"A
witch," Morwen finished. "I don't see why you
find it
surprising. It's not exactly an unusual profession
in
these parts."
"It's
just that I haven't met one before," Cimorene
said,
not mentioning the fact that in Linderwall witches
were
considered dangerous and probably evil and were
therefore
avoided if at all possible. But then, people in
Linderwall
didn't like dragons much, either. "Won't
you
come in and have some tea?"
"I
certainly will," said the witch, and she did. She
prowled
around like a nervous cat while Cimorene put
the
kettle on the stove and got out the tea things.
"Well,"
Morwen said approvingly as Cimorene
filled
the teapot, "you're the first princess I've ever met
who has
the sense to keep up with the kitchen."
Cimorene
decided that she liked Morwen's down-
to-earth
manner. She soon found herself telling Mor-
wen
everything, from the fencing and philosophy and
Latin
lessons to the seemingly endless stream of
knights.
The story lasted through two cups of tea and
finished
with Therandil's stubborn insistence on res-
cuing
her.
"That
is absurd," Morwen said decidedly when
Cimorene
finished. "If this continues, you'll never get
anything
done."
"I
know," Cimorene said. "I keep telling them I
don't
want to be rescued, but they're all so honorable
that
none of them will tell anyone when they go back
because
they think it would be gossiping."
33
"More
likely they don't want to look foolish."
"Maybe,
but even if they did tell people, I'm no;
sure
anyone would believe it. I have a hard enougl.
time
convincing the knights when they show up ir
person."
"Ifs
just as well that your visitors have been hon-
orable,"
Morwen said, looking thoughtful. "Under-
wall's
a prosperous kingdom. Sooner or later the chance
of
getting hold of half of it is going to tempt someone
to try
rescuing you whether you want to be rescued or
not."
"That
hadn't occurred to me," Cimorene said witi'
a
worried frown. "What can I do about it?"
"I'm
not sure," Morwen replied. "The situation's
not at
all usual, you know. I've never heard of a prin-
cess
volunteering for a dragon before. Which rather sur-
prises
me, now that I think of it. A dragon's princess
is
practically guaranteed a good marriage, so you'd
think
princesses from the smaller kingdoms would be
clamoring
for the job."
"They're
probably worried about being eaten,"
Cimorene
said. "Do you think it would help if I sent
my
parents a letter?"
"Probably
not," Morwen said after a moment's
consideration.
"But it can't hurt to try. I'll check my
spell
books when I get home. It may give me an idea.
I
suggest that you hunt through Kazul's library. She's
been
collecting scrolls for centuries; you ought to be
able to
find something useful. Meanwhile, we'll put up
a
sign."
"A
sign?" Cimorene stared at Morwen for a mo-
34
ment,
then began to smile. " 'Road washed out,' " she
said.
" 'Use alternate route.' Is that the kind of sign
you
were thinking of?"
"Exactly,"
Morwen said with approval. "It won't
stop
anyone who's really determined, but it will cer-
tainly
slow them down. That should give us time to
come up
with something better."
The two
women set to work at once and in a short
time
produced a large, official-looking sign. Morwen
offered
to set it up on her way back to the Enchanted
Forest,
but Cimorene thought it would be too awkward
for her
to carry while riding the broom. So, once Mor-
wen had
gone, Cimorene tucked the sign under her
arm and
started down the path.
Cimorene
had not had a chance to do any real exploring
before,
though she had looked out at the mountains
every
day and wondered. She was happy to have an
excuse
to see more of the outside of her new home.
It was a
lovely day, warm and sunny, and at first
the
path was level and easy. Cimorene was just begin-
ning to
wonder whether anyone would believe her
sign,
once she got it put up, when the path swung left
around
a boulder and narrowed to a tiny ledge that
sloped
steeply upward.
Cimorene
stopped. Now she knew why none of
the
knights had ridden up to the cave. The ledge was
barely
wide enough for a person on foot to edge along
sideways;
the best rider in the world couldn't have
gotten
a horse down it. Cimorene rolled her sign up
into a
firm, tight cylinder and stuck it through her belt,
35
so she
would have her hands free while she climbed.
Then
she stepped out onto the ledge.
Sidling
up the slope took a long time, for Cimorene
was
careful to make sure that each part of the ledge
would
hold before she trusted her weight to it. She
was
also careful not to look down. Heights had never
bothered
her before, but there was a big difference
between
standing solidly on top of a tower in Under-
wall
Castle behind a four-foot parapet and inching
along a
ledge barely six inches wide with nothing be-
tween
her and a long fall.
She had
almost reached the top of the slope, where
the
path widened again, when a portion of the ledge
disappeared
just ahead of her. Cimorene pulled her
foot
back and tried to figure out what had happened.
She
hadn't seen or heard the rock crumble and fall
away;
there was simply a two-foot gap in the ledge that
hadn't
been there before. She studied it for a moment,
trying
to think of a way of getting past. Nothing oc-
curred
to her. She felt a twinge of annoyance at the
thought
of all her wasted efforts, but cheered up at
once
when she realized that this would solve the prob-
lem of
the visiting knights. If she couldn't get around
or over
the gap, an armored knight wouldn't be able
to get
by, either. Cimorene smiled and turned her head
to
creep back to safety.
There
was another two-foot gap in the ledge on
her
other side. Cimorene frowned. Something very odd
was
going on, and she didn't like it.
"You
look as if you are in need of assistance," said
a deep
voice from above her. "May I be of help?"
Cimorene
turned her head and saw a man standing
36
four
feet away, oh the path at the top of the ledge. He
was
tall and sharp-featured, and his eyes were a hard,
bright
black. Though he had a gray beard that reached
nearly
to his waist, his face did not look old. He wore
loose
robes made of blue and gray silk, and in one
hand he
held a staff as tall as himself made of dark,
polished
wood.
"Possibly,"
Cimorene answered. She was certain
that
the man was a wizard, though she had never met
one
before, and she did not want to agree to anything
until
she was sure of what she was agreeing to. The
court
philosopher had always claimed that wizards
were
very tricky. "May I know to whom I am
speaking?"
"I
am the wizard Zemenar," the man said. "And
you
must be Kazul's new princess. I hope you're not
trying
to run away. It's—"
"Not
done," Cimorene said, feeling particularly an-
noyed
because for once she was not doing anything
improper.
"Yes, I'm Cimorene."
"I
was going to say that it isn't wise to run away
from
your dragon," the wizard corrected mildly. "I
believe
ifs done all the time."
"I'm
sorry," Cimorene said, but she didn't try to
explain.
"And I'm not running away. How did you
know
who I was?"
"It
seemed unlikely that I would find any other
charming
young lady walking so casually through the
Pass of
Silver Ice," Zemenar answered. He smiled. "As
you
see, it is easy to find oneself in difficulties if one
is not
properly . . . prepared."
Cimorene
decided that she didn't like him. He re-
37
minded
her of one of her father's courtiers, a humor-
less,
sneaky little man who had paid her compliments
only
when he was after something and who couldn't
resist
giving advice even when nobody wanted it. "The
ledge
was all here when I started," she said. An idea
crossed
her mind, and she looked hard at Zemenar. "I
don't
suppose you know what happened to the two
missing
bits?"
A flash
of startled annoyance crossed the wizard's
face;
then his expression smoothed back into pleasant
politeness.
He shrugged. "The Pass of Silver Ice is a
strange
place. Odd things frequently occur."
"Not
like this," Cimorene muttered. She was sure,
now,
that the wizard had made the ledge vanish so
that he
could pretend to rescue her, but she had no
idea
why he would want her to think she owed him a
favor.
Actually, it surprised her that he had destroyed
the
ledge. She didn't think the dragons would be too
happy
when they found out. Unless he hadn't really
destroyed
it.
"What
did you say?" Zemenar said, frowning
uncertainly.
Cimorene
ignored him. Without looking down, she
slid her
right foot along the ledge. The rock felt firm
and
solid. Slowly she transferred her weight and
brought
her left foot up beside her right. She shifted
again,
still careful not to look down, and slid her right
foot
forward once again.
"What
are you doing?" Zemenar demanded.
"Getting
off this ledge," Cimorene replied. "I
should
think that was obvious." One more step would
38
bring
her to the path, but Zemenar was squarely in her
way.
"Would you mind moving back a little so I'll have
somewhere
to stand?"
Zemenar's
eyes narrowed, but he backed up sev-
eral
paces, and Cimorene stepped onto the path. She
wanted
to heave a sigh of relief, but she did not. She
wasn't
going to let Zemenar have the satisfaction of
knowing
she had been worried. Instead, she gave him
her
best royal smile and said with polite insincerity,
"Thank
you for offering to help, but as you see, it
wasn't
needed. Do stop by and visit some time."
"I
will," Zemenar said as if he meant it. "And a
very
good day to you. Princess Cimorene."
With
that he vanished. There was no smoke or fire
or
whirlwind. There wasn't even a shimmer in the air
as he
disappeared. He was simply and suddenly gone.
Cimorene
stared at the place where the wizard had
been
and felt a shiver run down her spine. It took a
very
powerful wizard indeed to vanish so quietly. And
she
still didn't know what he wanted.
She
shook herself and started down the path. She
would
worry about the wizard later; right now she had
to find
a place to put up her sign so she could get back
to the
cave. She didn't feel much like exploring any
more.
She
hadn't taken more than two or three steps
when a
dark shadow passed over her. Looking up,
startled,
she saw a flash of yellow-green scales. An
instant
later a dragon landed on the path in front of
her,
blocking the way completely. His tail hung over
the
edge, and he had to keep his wings partly unfurled
39
in
order to stay in balance. Cimorene recognized him
at
once. It was the yellow-green dragon who had
wanted
to eat her the day she arrived so unexpectedly
in the
dragons' cave.
"I
saw the whole thing," the dragon said with
nasty,
triumphant glee. "Running away—and talking
to a
wizard! Just wait until Kazul hears. She'll be sorry
she
didn't just let us eat you and be done with it."
"I
offer you greetings and good fortune on your
travels,"
Cimorene said, figuring that it was best to be
polite
to anyone as large and toothy as a dragon, even
if he
wasn't being at all polite to her. "I'm not running
away."
'Then
what are you doing? Kazul doesn't have any
business
that would bring you down this side of the
pass."
"I
came out to put up a sign to keep the knights
away,"
Cimorene said.
"That's
ridiculous." The dragon sniffed. "I've been
on
patrol in this part of the mountains for the past
week,
and I haven't seen or smelted even a hint of a
knight."
"You
haven't been by Kazul's cave, then," Cimo-
rene
said. "At least nine of them have shown up there
in the
past week. Though for the past couple of days
it's
been mostly a prince."
"Princes
don't smell any different from knights,
and I'd
have noticed if any of them were hanging
around,"
the dragon said flatly. "And what about that
wizard
you were talking to?"
"Chaaarrge!"
shouted a familiar voice from the
other
side of the dragon.
40
"Therandil!"
Cimorene shouted. "I told you to go
away!"
The
yellow-green dragon twisted his long neck and
glanced
back over his shoulder. He seemed to bunch
together
like a cat crouching. Then he sprang straight
up into
the air, and Cimorene was blinded by the cloud
of dust
raised by the flapping of his enormous wings.
She had
the presence of mind to flatten herself back
against
the rocks by the side of the path, and a moment
later
she heard someone blundering by. She stuck out
a foot.
"Ow!"
she said as Therandil fell over with a clatter.
She'd
forgotten that he'd be wearing iron boots along
with
the rest of his armor.
"Cimorene?
Is that you?" Therandil said.
"Of
course it's me," Cimorene replied, rubbing her
ankle.
"Open your eyes; the dust's settled." She looked
up as
she spoke and saw the dragon soar out of sight
behind
a cliff.
"I'm
sorry," Therandil said, and then in an anxious
tone he
added, "I hope I didn't hurt you, stumbling
into
you like that."
Cimorene
started to say that it was nothing and
that it
had been her fault anyway, when she suddenly
got a
much better idea. "I think you've sprained my
ankle,"
she declared.
"Oh,
no," Therandil said. He sounded truly dis-
mayed,
though Cimorene couldn't see his face because
he was
wearing his helmet with the visor down.
"I
probably won't be able to walk for at least a
month,"
she declared. "And there's certainly no way
I can
climb down this mountain."
41
"But
if you can't walk—" Therandil said, and
paused.
Then he squared his shoulders and went on,
"—then
I suppose I'll have to carry you." He didn't
sound
as if he liked the idea.
"I
don't think that would work very well," Cim-
orene
said quickly. "How will you fight when all the
dragons
come back if you're carrying me? No, you'll
have to
leave me here and go back alone."
"You
can't stay here!" Therandil protested, though
Cimorene's
talk of when all the dragons come back had
plainly
made him nervous.
"I
have to," Cimorene said, trying to sound noble
and
long-suffering. 'The dragons will make sure I get
safely
back to Kazul's cave, and a month isn't too long
a wait,
after all."
"I
don't understand," Therandil said, and he did
look
thoroughly puzzled.
"There's
no point in you or anyone else coming
up here
to rescue me for at least a month, not till my
ankle's
better," Cimorene explained patiently.
"Oh,
I see," Therandil said. He tilted his head back
and
scanned the empty sky. "You're quite sure you'll
be all
right? Then I'll just be going before those dragons
return."
He turned and started down the path as quick-
ly as
he could manage in full armor.
42
4
In
Which Kazul Has a Dinner Party,
and
Cimorene Makes Dessert
G
..imorene
watched Therandil go with feelings of great
relief.
Now she had at least a month to find a perma-
nent
way of discouraging the knights, for she was quite
certain
that Therandil would spread the news of her
"injury."
She decided to put up her sign anyway, just
in
case, and after a little looking she found a scrubby
tree
beside the path and hung the sign on it.
On her
way back to Kazul's cave, she noticed that
the two
pieces of the ledge were still invisible, and she
was
very careful about crossing them. She looked down
once,
out of curiosity, and was immediately sorry. She
was not
comfortable with the sight of her own feet
firmly
planted on nothing at all, with the sharp, spiky
43
tops of
spruce trees in full view some fifty feet below
Kazul
arrived only a few minutes after Cimorene
herself.
Cimorene was looking for some thread to mend
her
skirts (which had gotten torn and stained while she
was
climbing along the ledge) when she heard the ur.
mistakable
sounds of a dragon sliding into the main
cave.
"Cimorene?"
Kazul's voice called.
"Coming,"
Cimorene called back, abandoning her
search.
She picked up her lamp and hurried out to greet
Kazul.
"I'm
glad to see you're still here," Kazul said mildly
as
Cimorene came into the large cave. "Moranz was
quite
sure you'd run off with a knight or a wizard. I
couldn't
make out for certain which."
"Is
Moranz the yellow-green dragon who wanted
to eat
me?" Cimorene asked. "Because if he is, he's
just
trying to make trouble."
"I'm
well aware of that," Kazul said with a sigh
that
sent a-burnt-bread smell halfway across the cave.
"But
things would be easier for me if you didn't provide
him
with any material to make trouble with. Exactly
what
happened?"
"Well,
Morwen came to visit this afternoon," Cim-
orene
began. "We were talking about all the ... in-
terruptions
I've been having, and she suggested putting
up a
sign. ..." She explained why she had gone to
put up
the sign herself and told Kazul in detail about
her
meetings with the wizard, the dragon, and the
prince.
"So
Morwen was here," Kazul said. She sat back,
44
and the
scales on her tail rattled comfortably against
the
floor. "That simplifies matters. Did you bring the
sign
back with you?"
"No,
I found a tree and hung it by the path,"
Cunorene
said, wondering what this was all about, "hi
case
Therandil doesn't tell everyone about my ankle
after
all."
"Better
still," Kazul said, and smiled fiercely, show-
ing all
her teeth. "Moranz is going to regret meddling."
"Meddling
in what?"
"My
business."
'Td
like a little more of an explanation than that,
if you
don't mind giving one," Cimorene said with a
touch
of exasperation.
Kazul
looked startled, then thoughtful. Then she
nodded.
"I keep forgetting that you're not as empty-
headed
as most princesses," she said. "Sit down and
make
yourself comfortable. This may take a while."
Cimorene
found a rock and sat on it. Kazul settled
into a
more restful position, folded her wings neatly
along
her back, and began. "It has to do with status.
Dragons
aren't required to have princesses, you see.
Most of
us don't. There are never enough to go around,
and
some of us prefer not to have to deal with the
annoyances
that come with them."
"Knights,"
Cimorene guessed.
"Among
other things," Kazul said, nodding. "So
having
a princess in residence has become a minor mark
of high
status among dragons."
"A
minor mark?"
Kazul
smiled. "I'm afraid so. It's the equivalent of,
45
oh,
serving expensive imported fruit at dinner. It's a
nice
way of showing everyone how rich you are, but
you
could make just as big an impression by having
some of
those fancy pastries with the smooth glazed
icing
and spun-sugar roses."
"I
see." Cimorene did see, though she found her-
self
wishing that Kazul had found something else to
compare
it to. The talk of dinner reminded her too
much of
Moranz's repeated desire to eat her.
"Moranz
is young and not very bright, I'm afraid,"
Kazul
said, almost as if she had read Cimorene's mind.
"He
seems to have the mistaken impression that if a
princess
behaves badly, it reflects on the dragon who
captured
her. Possibly it comes from his inability to
keep
any of his own princesses for more than a week.
Some of
the lesser dragons were very snide about it
when he
lost his third one in a row. I believe she
sneaked
out while he was napping."
"I
don't see how he can blame his princesses,"
Cimorene
objected. "I mean, if most princesses are un-
willing,
it must be fairly usual for them to try to get
away."
"Of
course, but Moranz doesn't see it that way.
He's
been trying to catch someone else's princess in a
similar
foolishness for years, and he's quite sure he's
finally
done so. He's undoubtedly spreading the story
of your
escape far and wide at this very minute."
"Oh,
dear," said Cimorene.
Kazul
smiled again, and her teeth glittered silver
in the
lamplight. "He'll look extremely foolish when it
becomes
obvious that you're still here. Which is one
46
reason
I've asked a few of my friends to dinner to-
night."
"You've
what?" Cimorene said. All her worries
about
Moranz were instantly replaced by worries about
fixing
dinner on short notice for an unknown number
of
dragons. "How many? What time will they be here?
Where
are we going to put them all?"
"Six.
Around eight-thirty. In the banquet cave.
And you
won't be doing anything but dessert. I've
already
arranged for the rest of the meal."
"Arranged?
With whom?"
"Ballimore
the giantess. She's loaned me the
Cauldron
of Plenty that she uses when her twelve-
headed
son-in-law drops in for dinner unannounced.
It'll
handle most things, but all it can produce in the
way of
dessert is burned mint custard and sour-cream-
and-onion
ice cream."
"Ugh!"
said Cimorene. "I see your problem."
"Exactly.
Can you manage?"
"Not
if you want cherries jubilee," Cimorene said,
frowning.
"I haven't got a pot large enough to make
seven
dragons' worth of cherries jubilee. Would choc-
olate
mousse do? I can make two or three batches, and
there
should be time for all of them to chill if you're
not
starting until eight-thirty."
"Chocolate
mousse will be fine," Kazul assured
her.
"Come along and I'll show you where to bring it."
Cimorene
picked up a lamp and followed Kazul
into
the public tunnels that surrounded Kazul's private
caves.
She was a little surprised, but when she saw the
size of
the banquet cave, she understood. It was enor-
47
mous.
Fifty or sixty dragons, perhaps even a hundred
of
them, would fit into it quite comfortably. Obviously
it had
to be a public room; there simply wasn't enough
space
under the Mountains of Morning for every drag-
on to
have a cave this size.
Kazul
made sure Cimorene could find her way to
the
banquet cave without help and then left her in the
kitchen
to melt slabs of chocolate and whip gallons of
cream
for the mousse. By the time she finished, she
was hot
and tired, and all she really wanted to do was
to take
a nap. But Kazul was expecting her to serve the
mousse,
and Cimorene wasn't about to appear before
all
those dragons in her old clothes with sweaty strag-
gles of
hair sticking to her neck and a smear of chocolate
across
her nose, so instead of napping, she pumped a
cauldron
of water, heated it on the kitchen fire, and
took a
bath.
Once
she was clean she felt much better. She
checked
to make sure the mousse was setting properly,
then
went into her own rooms to decide what she
should
wear. Unfortunately, she was afraid she didn't
have
much choice. The wardrobe in her bedroom was
full of
neat, serviceable dresses suitable for cooking in
or
rummaging through treasure, but the only dressy
clothes
she had were the ones she had arrived in. She
got
them out of the back of the wardrobe and found
to her
dismay that the hem of the gown was badly
stained
with mud from her long walk. There was no
time to
dean it; she would have to wear one of the
everyday
dresses.
With a
sigh Cimorene turned back to the wardrobe
48
and
opened it once more to look for the nicest of the
ordinary
clothes. She gasped in surprise. The hangers
were
now full of the most beautiful gowns she had ever
seen.
Some were silk, and some were velvet; some were
heavy
brocade, and some were layers of feather-light
eauze;
some were embroidered with gold or silver, and
some
were sewn with jewels.
"Well,
of course," Cimorene said aloud after a
stunned
moment. "Why would a dragon have an or-
dinary
wardrobe? Of course it's magic. What's in it de-
pends
on what I'm looking for."
One of
the wardrobe doors waggled slightly, and
its
hinges creaked in smug agreement. Cimorene
blinked
at it, then shook herself and began looking
through
the gowns.
She
chose one of red velvet, heavily embroidered
with
gold, and found matching slippers in the bottom
of the
obliging wardrobe. She let her black hair hang
in
loose waves nearly to her feet and even dug her
crown
out of the back of the drawer where she'd stuffed
it on
her first night. She finished getting ready a few
minutes
early. Feeling very cheerful, she went to the
kitchen
to fetch the mousse.
It took
Cimorene four trips to get the mousse down to
the
serving area just off the banquet cave. A dragon-
sized
serving was a little over a bucketful, and she could
barely
manage to carry two at a time. When everything
was
ready, she stood in the serving area and waited
nervously
for Kazul to ring for dessert. She could hear
the muffled
booming of the dragons' voices through the
49
heavy
oak door, but she could not make out what any
of them
were saying.
The
bell rang at last, summoning Cimorene to serve
dessert.
She carried the mousse into the banquet cav-
ern,
two servings at a time, and set it in front of Kazul
and her
guests. The dragons were crouched around a
shoulder-high
slab of white stone. Ciniorene had to be
very
careful about lifting the mousse up onto it. For-
tunately,
she didn't have to wonder which dragon to
serve
first. She could tell which dragons were most
important
from their places at the table, and she made
a
silent apology to her protocol teacher, who had in-
sisted
that she leam about seating arrangements. (Pro-
tocol
had been one of the princess lessons Cimorene
had
hated most.)
As she
set the last serving in front of Kazul, one
of the
other dragons said in a disgruntled and vaguely
familiar
voice, "I see the rumors are wrong again, Ka-
zul. Or
did you have to go after her and haul her back
the way
the rest of us do?"
Cimorene
turned angrily, but before she could say
anything,
a large gray-green dragon on the other side
of the
stone slab said, "Nonsense, Woraug! Girl's got
more
sense than that. You shouldn't listen to gossip.
Next
thing you know, you'll be chasing after that imag-
inary
wizard Gaurim's been on about." Cimorene rec-
ognized
the speaker at once. He was Roxim, the
elderly
dragon she had given four of her handkerchiefs
to.
"I
suppose it was that idiot Moranz again, trying
to
cause trouble," a purple-green dragon said with
bored
distaste. "Someone should do something about
him."
"Kazul
still hasn't answered my question," Wor-
aug
said, and his tail lashed once like the tail of an
angry
cat. "And I'd like her to do so if the rest of you
will
stop sidetracking the conversation."
"Here,
now!" Roxim said indignantly. "Thafs a bit
strong,
Woraug! Too strong, if you ask me."
"I
didn't," Woraug said. "I asked Kazul. And I'm
still
waiting."
"I'm
very pleased with my princess," Kazul said
mildly.
"And no, I didn't have to haul her back, as you
would
realize if you'd given the matter a little thought.
Or does
your princess normally leave seven servings
of
chocolate mousse in the kitchen when she runs
away?"
"Hear,
hear!" Roxim said.
Cimorene
noted with interest that Woraug's scales
had
turned an even brighter shade of green than normal
and
that he was starting to smell faintly of brimstone.
"One
of these days you'll go too far, Kazul," he
said.
"You
started it," Kazul pointed out. She turned to
the
gray dragon. "Whafs this about Gaurim and a wiz-
ard,
Roxim?"
"You
haven't heard?" Roxim said, sounding sur-
prised.
"Gaurim's been raving about it for weeks.
Somebody
snuck into her cave and stole a book from
her
library. No traces, but for some reason she's pos-
itive
it was a wizard. Achoo!" Roxim sneezed, emitting
a ball
of flame that just missed hitting his bowl of
mousse.
"Gives me an allergy attack just thinking about
it."
"If
it wasn't a wizard, who was it?" the dragon at
the far
end of the table asked.
"Could
have been anybody—an elf, a dwarf, even
a
human," Roxim responded. "No reason to think it
was a
wizard just because Gaurim didn't catch him in
the act.
Not with the amount of time she spends away
from
home."
"Which
book did she lose?" said the thin, brown-
ish-green
dragon next to Kazul.
"What
does it matter?" the purple-green dragon
muttered.
"Some
history or other. And that's another thing—
what
would a wizard want with a history book? No,
no,
Gaurim's making a lot of fuss over a common thief.
That's
what I say."
"It
could have been a wizard," said the dragon at
the far
end. "Who knows why they want the things
they
want?"
"Ridiculous!"
Roxim replied with vigor. "A wizard
wouldn't
dare come through this part of the mountains.
They
know what we'd do to 'em, by George! Beg par-
don,"
he added to the silver-green dragon next to him,
who
appeared to have been rather shocked by his
language.
"I'm
afraid you're wrong there," Kazul said. "Cim-
orene
met one today, less than a two-minute flight from
my
cave."
"What?
What?" Roxim said. "You're sure?"
"Thafs
done it." The purple-green dragon rolled
his
head in an irritated gesture, so that his scales made
a
scratching noise as they rubbed together. "You'll
never
get him to quit talking about it now."
"Quite
sure," Cimorene assured Roxim, after
glancing
at Kazul to make sure she was expected to
answer
Roxim's question for herself. "He made two
bits of
the ledge I was standing on rum invisible so I
would
think it wasn't safe to keep going."
"Certainly
sounds like a wizard to me," the dragon
at the
far end commented.
"What
did he look like?" asked the silver-green
dragon.
Cimorene
described the wizard as well as she
could,
then added, "He said his name was Zemenar."
"Zemenar?
That's ridiculous!" Woraug snorted.
"Zemenar
was elected head of the Society of Wizards
last
year. He wouldn't waste his time playing games
with
somebody's princess."
"Not
unless he had a great deal to gain by it," the
thin
dragon said in a thoughtful tone. She turned her
head
and looked speculatively at Cimorene.
"Such
as?" Woraug said. He waited a moment, but
no one
answered. "No, I can't believe it was Zemenar.
The
girl's made a mistake; that's all."
"Perhaps
it wasn't him," Cimorene said, holding
on to
her temper as hard as she could. "I've never met
Zemenar,
so I wouldn't know. But that's who he said
he
was."
"And
wouldn't it be amusing if she were right?"
the
purple-green dragon said, showing some interest
in the
proceedings for the first time.
53
"I
don't see that it matters," the silver-green
dragon
said. "The important thing is that he was a
wizard,
poking around smack in the middle of our
mountains.
What are we going to do about it?"
"Tell
King Tokoz," Roxim said. "His job to handle
this
sort of thing, isn't it?"
"What
can Tokoz do about it?" Woraug said, and
there
was a faint undercurrent of contempt in his tone.
"He
could use the King's Crystal to find out what
the
wizards are really doing," the thin dragon said in
a prim
tone.
"He
won't use the crystal for anything less than a
full-fledged
war," Woraug said. "And why should he?
What
could Tokoz do even if he did find out some
wizard
was preying on poor defenseless dragons like
Gaurim?"
"Lodge
a formal protest with the Society of Wiz-
ards,"
Roxim answered promptly, ignoring Woraug's
sarcasm.
"Proper thing to do, no question. Then the
next
time anyone sees a wizard ..." His voice trailed
off,
and he snapped his teeth together suggestively.
"He'd
probably just set up a committee," the
purple-green
dragon said. "Can't anyone think of
something
else?"
"I
don't think we should do anything until we have
some
idea what Zemenar was after," said the thin
dragon.
"It could be important."
"We
have to do something!" the silver-green drag-
on
said. Her claws clashed against the stone table. "We
can't
have wizards wandering in and out whenever
they
please! Why, we'd lose half our magic in no time."
54
"Not
to mention everyone sneezing themselves
silly
every time one of those dratted staffs gets too
close,"
added the dragon at the far end.
The
dragons began arguing among themselves
about
what to do and how best to do it. It reminded
Cimorene
of the way her father's ministers argued.
Everyone
seemed to agree that something ought to be
done
about the wizards, but they each had a different
idea
about what was appropriate. Roxim insisted huffily
that
the only thing to do was to inform the King, who
would
then make a formal protest. The thin dragon
wanted
to find out what the wizards were up to (she
didn't
say how this was to be done) before anyone tried
to
chase them off. The silver-green dragon wanted pa-
trols
sent out immediately to eat any wizard who ven-
tured
into the Mountains of Morning. The dragon at
the far
end of the table wanted to attack the head-
quarters
of the Society of Wizards the following morn-
ing,
and the purple-green dragon thought it would be
most
entertaining to wait and see what the wizards did
next.
Woraug was the only one of the guests who did
not
have a proposal, though he made occasional com-
ments,
usually sarcastic ones, about everyone else's
suggestions.
Kazul
did not say anything at all. Cimorene was
at
first surprised and then puzzled by her silence, since
Kazul
was the one who had set the whole discussion
going
to begin with. As the argument grew more
heated,
however, Cimorene began to be glad that there
was at
least one dragon present who was not involved
in it.
The dragon at the far end of the table was starting
55
to
breathe little tongues of fire at the purple-green
dragon,
and Roxim was threatening loudly to have an-
other
allergy attack, but Cimorene was fairly sure that
Kazul
would stop the discussion before things got com-
pletely
out of hand.
She was
right. A moment later, while the dragon
at the
far end was taking a deep breath to continue
arguing
and the thin dragon was winding up a long,
involved
train of logical reasons why her proposal was
the
best, Kazul said, "Thank you all for your advice.
I'll
certainly think about it before I decide what to do."
"What
do you mean by that?" the thin dragon
asked
suspidously.
"It
was my princess who met the wizard," Kazul
pointed
out. "Therefore, it is my decision whether to
report
the matter to the King, or to take some action
on my
own, or to ask for cooperation from some of
you."
None of
the other dragons appeared to like hearing
this,
but to Cimorene's surprise none of them gave
Kazul
any argument about it. The dragon at the far end
of the
table made a few half-hearted grumbles, but that
was
all, and the conversation turned to the intricacies
of
several draconian romances that were currently in
progress.
As soon as her guests appeared to have
calmed
down, Kazul gave the signal for the empty
mousse
dishes to be taken away, so Cimorene only
heard a
few incomprehensible snatches of the new con-
versation.
She did not really mind. She had plenty to
think
about already.
56
5
In
Which Cimorene Receives a Formal Call
from
Her Companions in Dire Captivity
JXazul
slept late the following morning, and Cimorene
was
afraid that she would leave before Cimorene had
a
chance to ask about the dragons' after-dinner con-
versation.
To her relief, Kazul called her in as soon as
she was
thoroughly awake and asked Cimorene to
bring
in the brushes for cleaning her scales.
"What
was that crystal your friend mentioned last
night?"
Cimorene asked as she laid out the brushes,
"The
one she thought King Tokoz could use somehow
to find
out what the wizards are doing?"
"The
King's Crystal?" Kazul said. "It's one of the
magical
objects that belongs to the King of the
Dragons."
57
"But
what does it do? And why did Woraug think
that
King Tokoz wouldn't want to use it?"
"Using
the crystal is difficult and tiring, and Tokoz
is
getting old," Kazul replied. "Zareth was right to say
that
the crystal ought to be used, but it will take more
evidence
than we have right now to persuade the King
of
that. As to what it does, the crystal shows things
that
are happening in other times and places. It's use
ful,
but it can be very difficult to interpret correctly."
"Oh,
a crystal ball," Cimorene said, nodding. She
tapped
Kazul's side, and the dragon bent her elbow so
that
the scales were easier to reach. "The court wizard
at
Linderwall had one, but I had to stop my magic
lessons
before he got a chance to show me how to work
it."
"The
King's Crystal is more like a plate, but the
principle
is the same," Kazul said.
"A
crystal plate?" Cimorene blinked. "No wonder
nobody
talks about it much. It just doesn't sound
right."
Kazul
shrugged. "The King's Crystal is much more
accurate
than an ordinary crystal ball, and if 'crystal
plate'
sounds odd to most people, it means that fewer
of them
will try to steal it."
"Was
that what the silver-green dragon meant
when he
said that if the wizards started wandering
through
the mountains you'd lose half your magic in
no
time? I never heard that wizards stole magic rings
and
swords and things."
"Not
magic things," Kazul said. "Magic. Wizards
steal
magic. That's where their power comes from."
"How
can a wizard steal magic?" Cimorene said
58
skeptically.
She climbed on a stool and began working
at the
ribs of Kazul's wings.
"Wizards'
staffs absorb magic from whatever hap-
pens to
be nearby," Kazul said, stretching out her left
wing so
Cimorene could get at the base. "Thafs why
they're
always hanging around places like the Moun-
tains
of Morning and the Enchanted Forest. The more
magic
there is in the area, the more their staffs can soak
up."
"What
would happen if someone stole a wizard's
staff?
Would the wizard still be able to use it?"
"The
wizard wouldn't be able to work any magic
until
he got it back," Kazul said. "Most of them have
a great
many anti-theft spells on their staffs for exactly
that
reason. Of course, it happens anyway, now and
then.
And as long as the wizard and the staff are sep-
arated,
the staff doesn't absorb magic."
"It
doesn't sound like a very good arrangement to
me,"
Cimorene said. "I can think of half a dozen ways
a staff
could be lost or forgotten or stolen or something.
It
doesn't seem sensible for a wizard to depend so much
on
anything that's so easy to mislay."
Kazul
shrugged. "They seem to like it."
"I
can see why you don't want them in your part
of the
mountains."
"Can
you? Do you have any idea how unpleasant
it is
to have part of your essence sucked out of you
without
so much as a by-your-leave? Not to mention
the
side effects."
"Side
effects?" Cimorene said, puzzled. "There!
Turn
around, and I'll do your other side."
"Roxim
isn't the only dragon who's allergic to wiz-
59
ards,"
Kazul said dryly as she shifted her position. "Or
rather,
to their staffs. We all are. Roxim's just a little
more
sensitive than most. That's why we made the
agreement
with them in the first place."
"The
dragons have an agreement with the wiz-
ards?"
Kazul
nodded. "To be precise, the King of the
Dragons
has an agreement with the head of the Society
of
Wizards: the wizards stay out of our portions of the
Mountains
of Morning, and we allow them partial ac-
cess to
the Caves of Fire and Night. At least, that's the
way
it's supposed to work. King Tokoz is getting old
and
forgetful, and lately wizards have been turning up
in all
sorts of places they aren't supposed to be."
"Like
that wizard Zemenar I met on the path,"
Cimorene
said. "Do you think he really was the same
Zemenar
that's the head of the Society of Wizards?"
"I
doubt that anyone, even another wizard, would
dare
impersonate him," Kazul said. "He has a nasty
reputation."
Cimorene
remembered the hard black eyes and
sharp
features of the wizard she had met. He had cer-
tainly
looked nasty enough, even when he was pre-
tending
to be nice. He was sneaky, too, or he wouldn't
have
tried to trick her. And he had been very annoyed
when
Cimorene got off the ledge without his help.
Cimorene
frowned.
"I
wonder what he wanted, really," she mused.
"Do
you suppose he'll stop by the way he said he
would?"
"I
almost wish he would try," Kazul said. There
60
was an
angry glint in her eye, and her claws made a
scratching
sound against the stone floor of the cave as
she
flexed them.
"Don't
wiggle," Cimorene said. "If Zemenar is as
tricky
as everyone says, he won't come while you're
here.
He'll wait until you've gone somewhere and I'm
alone."
"True."
Kazul frowned. Then she looked at Cim-
orene,
and her eyes took on a speculative gleam. "He
probably
thinks you're as silly as most princesses, so
he'll
be hoping to trick you into giving him whatever
it is
he's after. And if he does—"
"Then
maybe I can fool him instead," Cimorene
finished.
"And once we know what he's after, we can
decide
what to do about it."
Kazul
and Cimorene discussed this idea while Cim-
orene
finished brushing the dragon's scales. There was
very
little they could do to prepare since they did not
know
when Zemenar might show up at the cave or
what he
might do when he arrived. Then Kazul went
off to
inspect the ledge where Cimorene had met the
wizard,
to see whether bits of it were still invisible.
When
Kazul had gone, Cimorene went into the
library
to hunt through all the books and scrolls of
spells.
The behavior of the dragons at dinner the pre-
vious
evening had made a considerable impression on
her,
and she wanted to see whether she could find a
spell
to fireproof herself. Until then she hadn't realized
that
when a dragon lost his temper, he started breath-
ing
fire. Not that she was planning to do anything to
irritate
Kazul—or any other dragon, for that matter—
6i
but the
dragons at dinner had been too annoyed to be
careful,
and she didn't want to get burned by accident,
no
matter how sorry the dragon might be afterward.
At
first Cimorene didn't have much luck. She hadn't
had
time to do much organizing in the library, and
most of
the books and scrolls were lying in haphazard,
dust-covered
piles. Some had even fallen onto the floor,
and
there were spiders everywhere. Cimorene realized
that if
she wanted to find anything, she was going to
have to
do some more cleaning first. With a sigh she
went to
get a bucket of water, some cloths for washing
and
dusting, and a handkerchief to tie over her hair.
She
worked for several hours, dusting books and
manuscripts,
wiping off the dirty bookshelves, and put-
ting
the books back in neat rows when the shelves were
dry.
She found two books and five old scrolls that
looked
as if they might be interesting. These she set
on one
of the tables to look at later. She had just pulled
a
stained and yellowed stack of papers out of the back
of the
second-to-last bookshelf when she heard some-
one
hallooing outside.
"Now
what?" she muttered crossly. She set the
papers
on the table with the rest of the books she was
planning
to look at later and went out to see who was
there.
To her
surprise, the noise was coming from the
back
entrance, not from the mouth of the cave. She
hurried
into the passage, rounded the corner, and
found
herself facing three beautiful, elegantly dressed
princesses.
They were all blonde and blue-eyed and
62
slender,
and several inches shorter than Cimorene. The
first
one wore a gold crown set with diamonds, and
her
hair was the color of sun-ripened wheat. The sec-
ond
wore a silver crown set with sapphires, and her
hair
was the color of crystallized honey. The last wore
a
pearl-covered circlet, and her hair was the color of
ripe
apricots. They looked rather taken aback by the
sight
of Cimorene in her dust-covered dress and
kerchief.
"Oh,
bother," Cimorene said under her breath.
Then
she smiled her best smile and said, "Welcome to
the
caves of the dragon Kazul. May I help you with
anything?"
"We
have made the perilous journey through the
tunnels
to see the Princess Cimorene, newly come to
these
caverns, to comfort her and together bemoan our
sad and
sorry fates," the first princess said haughtily.
'Tell
her we are here."
"I'm
Cimorene," Cimorene said. "I don't need
comforting,
and I'm not particularly sad or sorry to be
here,
but if you'd like to come in and have some tea,
you're
welcome to."
The
first two princesses looked as if they would
have
liked to be startled and appalled by this an-
nouncement
but were much too well bred to show what
they
were feeling. The princess with the pearl circlet
looked
surprised and rather intrigued, and she glanced
hopefully
at her companions. They ignored her, but
after a
moment the first princess said grandly, "Very
well,
we will join you, then," and swept past Cimorene
into
the cave.
63
The
other princesses followed, the one with the
pearl
circlet giving Cimorene a shy smile as she passed
Cimorene,
wondering what she had gotten herself into
brought
up the rear. The princesses stopped when they
reached
the main cave, and the ones in the gold and
silver
crowns looked a bit disgruntled. The one in the
pearl
circlet stared in unabashed amazement. "My
goodness,"
she said, "you certainly do have a lot ot
space."
"Alianora!"
the gold-crowned princess said sharp-
ly, and
the princess with the pearl circlet flushed and
subsided,
looking unhappy.
"This
way," Cimorene said hastily, and led the
three
princesses into the kitchen. "Do sit down," she
said,
waving at the bench beside the kitchen table.
The
gold-crowned princess looked at the bench
with
distaste, but after a moment she sat down. The
other
two followed her example. There was a brief si-
lence
while Cimorene filled the copper teakettle and
hung it
over the fire, and then the gold-crowned prin-
cess
said, "I am remiss in my duties, for I have not yet
told
you who we are. I am the Princess Keredwel of
the
Kingdom of Raxwel, now captive of the dread
dragon
Gomul. This"—she nodded toward the princess
in the
silver crown—"is the Princess Hallanna of the
Kingdom
of Poranbuth, now captive of the dread
dragon
Zareth. And this"—she waved at the girl in the
pearl
circlet—"is the Princess Alianora of the Duchy of
Toure-on-Marsh,
now prisoner of the dread dragon
Woraug."
"Pleased
to meet you," Cimorene said. "I am Prin-
64
cess
Cimorene of the Kingdom of Lmderwall, now prin-
cess of
the dragon Kazul. What sort of tea would you
like? I
have blackberry, ginger, chamomile, and gun-
powder
green. I'm afraid I used the last of the lapsang
souchong
this morning."
"Blackberry,
please," Keredwel said. She gave
Cimorene
a considering look. "You seem to be most
philosophic
about your fate."
"Would
that I had so valiant a spirit," Hallanna
said in
failing accents. "But my sensibility is too great,
I fear,
for me to follow your example."
"If
you don't like being a dragon's princess, why
don't
you escape?" Cimorene asked, remembering that
Kazul
had said that three princesses in a row had run
away
from the yellow-green dragon, Moranz.
Keredwel
and Hallanna looked shocked. "Without
being
rescued?" Hallanna faltered. "Walk all that way,
with
dragons and trolls and goodness knows what else
hiding
in the rocks, ready to eat me? Oh, I couldn't!"
"It
isn't done," Keredwel said coldly. "And I notice
that
you haven't tried it."
"But
I'm enjoying being Kazul's princess," Cim-
orene
said cheerfully. "I suppose I might have been
upset
if I'd been carried off the way you were, but I
can
hardly complain as it is, can I?"
Alianora
leaned forward. "Then you really did vol-
unteer
to be Kazul's princess?"
Keredwel
and Hallanna turned and stared at then-
companion.
"Where did you get that ridiculous idea,
Alianora?"
Hallanna said.
"W-Woraug
said—" Alianora faltered.
65
"You
must have misunderstood," Keredwel said
severely.
"No one volunteers to be a dragon's princess.
It
isn't done."
"Actually,
Alianora's quite right," Cimorene said
as she
set the teacups in front of her visitors. "I did
volunteer."
She smiled sweetly at the thunderstruck
expressions
on the faces of the first two princesses. "I
got
tired of embroidery and etiquette."
Keredwel
and Hallanna seemed unsure of how to
take
this announcement, so they made polite conver-
sation
about the tea and asked Cimorene questions
about
the current fashions. Alianora didn't say very
much,
and the few times she tried either Keredwel or
Hallanna
jumped on her. Cimorene felt rather sorry for
Alianora.
The
princesses swept off at last, still somewhat
puzzled
by Cimorene's attitude. Cimorene gave a sigh
of
relief and set about cleaning up the kitchen. She was
just
rinsing the last of the cups when she heard some-
one
hesitantly clearing her throat behind her. Cimorene
turned
and saw Alianora standing timidly in the
doorway.
"Hello
again," Cimorene said. "Did you forget
something?"
"Not
exactly," Alianora said. "I mean, I told Ker-
edwel I
did, but actually I just wanted to get away from
them
for a while. I hope you don't mind."
"I
don't mind at all as long as you don't expect
more
hospitality," Cimorene assured her. "I have to
get
back to work on the library."
"What
are you doing?" Alianora asked. She
66
seemed
really interested, so Cimorene explained about
the
fireproofing spell.
"It
sounds like,a wonderful idea," Alianora said
when
Cimorene finished. "The dragons are careful
around
us, but it would be nice not to have to depend
on them
not to lose their tempers." She hesitated. "May
I
help?"
"I
don't think Kazul would mind," Cimorene said.
"But
you'd better change clothes first. The library isn't
very
clean, I'm afraid."
Alianora
looked down at her silk gown, which was
embroidered
heavily with silver and pearls, and gig-
gled.
Cimorene took her into the bedroom and found
a
plain, serviceable cleaning dress in the magic ward-
robe.
It took two tries before the wardrobe figured out
that
she wanted a dress for someone else, but once it
caught
on, it provided a splendid selection in Alianora's
size.
Then they went to the library and got to work.
Cleaning
was much more enjoyable with Alianora for
company.
By the time they finished dusting and
straightening
the last bookcases, the two girls were fast
friends,
and Alianora was comfortable enough to ask
Cimorene
straight out how it was that she had come
to
volunteer for a dragon.
"It's
a long story," Cimorene said, but Alianora in-
sisted
on hearing it. So Cimorene told her and then asked
how
Alianora had happened to be carried off by Woraug.
To her
surprise, Alianora flushed. "I think it was
the
only thing left that they could think of," she said,
not
very clearly. "My family, I mean."
6?
"I
don't understand/' Cimorene said.
"It's
because I'm not a very satisfactory princess,"
Alianora
said. "I tried, I really did, but. ... It started
when
the wicked fairy came to my christening."
"She
put a curse on you?"
"No.
She ate cake and ice cream until she nearly
burst
and danced with my Uncle Arthur until two in
the morning
and had a wonderful time. So she went
home
without cursing me, and Aunt Ermintrude says
that
that's where the whole problem started."
"Lots
of princesses don't have christening curses,"
said
Cimorene.
"Not
if a wicked fairy comes to the christening,"
Alianora
said positively. "And that was only the be-
ginning.
When I turned sixteen. Aunt Ermintrude sent
me a
gold spinning wheel for my birthday, and I sat
down
and spun. I didn't prick my finger or anything."
Cimorene
was beginning to see what Alianora was
getting
at. "Well, if you didn't have a christening
curse
..."
"So
Aunt Ermintrude told Mama to put me and a
spinning
wheel in a room full of straw and have me
spin it
into gold," Alianora went on. "And I tried! But
all I
could manage was linen thread, and whoever heard
of a
princess who can spin straw into linen thread?"
"It's
a little unusual, certainly."
"Then
they gave me a loaf of bread and told me
to walk
through the forest and give some to anyone
who
asked. I did exactly what they told me, and the
second
beggar-woman was a fairy in disguise, but in-
stead
of saying that whenever I spoke, diamonds and
68
loses
would drop from my mouth, she said that since
I was
so kind, I would never have any problems with
my
teeth."
"Really?
Did it work?"
"Well,
I haven't had a toothache since I met her."
"I'd
much rather have good teeth than have dia-
monds
and roses drop out of my mouth whenever I
said
something/' Cimorene said. "Think how uncom-
fortable
it would be if you accidentally talked in your
sleep!
You'd wake up rolling around on thorns and
rocks."
"That
never occurred to me," Alianora said, much
struck.
"Was
that everything?" Cimorene asked.
"No,"
Alianora said. "Aunt Ermintrude persuaded
one of
her fairy friends to give me a gown and a pair
of
glass slippers to go to a ball in the next kingdom
over.
And I broke one before I even got out of the castle!"
"Thafs
not so surprising," Cimorene said. "Glass
slippers
are for deserving merchants' daughters, not
for
princesses."
"Try
telling Aunt Ermintrude that," Alianora said.
"I
think she was the one who found out that Woraug
was
going to ravage a village just Over the border and
arranged
for me to go and visit on the right day so I
could
be carried off. She didn't even warn me. I sup-
pose
she thought that if I knew, I'd mess it up some-
how."
"I
don't think I would get along very well with
your
Aunt Ermintrude," Cimorene commented thought-
fully.
69
"Oh,
it wasn't so bad, at least at first," Alianora
said.
"Woraug ignored me most of the time, especially
after
he found out I can't cook, and it was a real relief
not to
have Aunt Ermintrude around any more. Only
then
Gornul brought Keredwel and Zareth brought Hal-
lanna,
and ..."
"And
they've been making life miserable for you
ever
since," Cimorene finished. "Why don't you stand
up to
them?"
"I
tried, but you don't know what they're like,"
Alianora
said, sighing. "Keredwel goes on and on about
correct
behavior, and Hallanna dissolves in tears as
soon as
it looks like she's losing an argument. And
they've
both had dozens of knights and princes try to
rescue
them. I've only had two."
"How
do you do it?" Cimorene asked. "I've had
nine
already, and they're a dreadful nuisance." Al-
ianora
stared at Cimorene, then began to giggle.
"What's
so funny?" Cimorene demanded.
"Keredwel
bragged for a week because two knights
and a
prince tried to rescue her the first month she was
here,"
Alianora explained between giggles. "She said
it was
some kind of record. You've barely been with
Kazul
for four weeks, and you've had nine, and you
didn't
even mention it when Keredwel was here. She's
going
to be furious when she finds out."
"If
she wants them, she can have them," Cimorene
said.
Her expression grew thoughtful. "Maybe they'd
be
easier to get rid of if I sent them along to another
princess,
instead of just trying to get them to go home."
"Oh!"
said Alianora, and went off into gales of
70
laughter
again. Cimorene gave her a questioning look.
"It's
the idea of Keredwel being—oh, my—being res-
cued by
a secondhand knight," Alianora gasped. "Oh,
dear!"
Cimorene's
eyes began to dance. "I could take a
good
look at them first, to make sure they're worthy
of her
before I sent them on," she suggested.
This
was too much for either of them, and they
both
collapsed in laughter. "You wouldn't, really,
would
you?" Alianora said when she began to recover.
"Send
the knights to rescue someone else? I cer-
tainly
would," Cimorene said emphatically. "I meant
it when
I said they were a nuisance. I wouldn't want
to
upset Keredwel, though. I'll have to think about the
best
way of handling it. Ifs a good thing there probably
won't
be any more of them for a few weeks. I should
have
plenty of time to figure something out."
"How
do you know that?" Alianora asked. Cim-
orene
explained about the sign and Therandil and her
"sprained
ankle." Alianora was impressed and prom-
ised to
help if she could. "I'll tell Hallanna that you've
twisted
your ankle. I know she'll tell the next knight
who
comes to rescue her, and then it won't matter if
your
Prince Therandil doesn't tell anybody."
This
settled, the two girls sat down and began
looking
through the books and scrolls Cimorene had
piled
on the table. Alianora, having been brought up
as a
proper princess despite the tiny size of her country,
did not
read Latin, so Cimorene had to examine those
scrolls
herself. There was a sizable stack of books left,
however,
and Alianora waded into them with a will.
It was
Cimorene, however, who finally found the spell
they
were searching for.
"I
think this is it!" she said, looking up from an
ancient,
crumpled scroll. " 'Being a Spell for the Re-
sisting
of Heat and Flames of All Kinds, in Particular
Those
Which Are the Product of MagicaLBeasts,' " she
read.
"Yes, there's a list and it includes dragons."
"I
would think dragons would be at the top," Al-
ianora
said. "Is it difficult?"
"It
doesn't look hard," Cimorene said, studying
the
page. "Some of the ingredients are pretty rare, but
it says
you only need them for the initial casting. After
that,
you can reactivate the spell just by throwing a
pinch
of dried feverfew in the air and reciting a
couplet."
"That's
not bad," Alianora said. She came around
the
table and peered over Cimorene's shoulder at the
faded
ink. "Is it Latin?"
"No,
it's just an ornate style of writing," Cimorene
assured
her. "It's not hard to read, once you get the
hang of
it. See, there's the couplet.
"Power
of water, wind and earth,
Turn
the fire back to its birth."
"It's
a variation on a dragon spell," Cimorene added
thoughtfully.
"How
do you know that?" Alianora asked.
"The
court wizard at home mentioned it when he
was
teaching me magic," Cimorene replied, studying
the
directions.
"Then
maybe it really will work on dragon fire.
72
Can we
get all the ingredients for the initial casting?"
"I
think so, but it'll take a while," Cimorene said.
"I
don't have any wolfsbane, and I'm not at all sure
about
unicorn water. Come on, let's check and see what
we need
to get."
They
took the scroll into the kitchen and began
hunting
through the shelves and supplies. They found
more of
the ingredients than Cimorene had expected,
and she
began to wonder whether one of Kazul's pre-
vious
princesses might have studied magic. They did
not,
however, find any wolfsbane or unicorn water,
nor
were they able to locate any white eagle feathers.
Alianora
discovered a very cobwebby jar labeled
"POWDERED
HENS' TEETH," but it was quite empty.
Cimorene
made a list of the ingredients they still
needed,
while Alianora changed back into her pearl-
embroidered
dress. Alianora took a copy of the list and
went
back to her quarters, much excited, to see whether
she
happened to have anything useful in the dusty,
disused
comers of her dragon's kitchen. Cimorene
doubted
that she would find anything, but there was
no harm
in letting her look.
As soon
as Alianora left, Cimorene tidied up the
kitchen
and put all but two of the books back on the
shelves
in the library. One was the scroll of spells in
which
she had found the fireproofing spell, because
she
wanted to take a more careful look at some of the
other
charms and enchantments it described. The other
book
was a fat volume bound in worn leather, with the
words
Historia Dracorum in cracked and flaking gold leaf
on the
cover. Cimorene had decided it was time she
really
got to work on her Latin.
73
6
In
Which the Wizards Do Some Snooping,
and
Cimorene Snoops Back
LOT the
next three weeks, Cimorene spent most of her
free
time studying the fireproofing spell and collecting
the
ingredients she would need to cast it. A few, like
the
wolfsbane and feverfew, she could gather herself
from
the herbs that grew on the slopes of the moun-
tains.
Alianora found a little jar of hippopotamus oil
among
the cosmetics left by her predecessor. The uni-
corn
water Cimorene got from Morwen, after promising
her a
copy of the spell if it worked. She went to Kazul
about
the white eagle feathers, though she was a little
afraid
to explain what she wanted them for. She didn't
want
Kazul to think that she was worried about Kazul
losing
her temper and accidentally roasting her. For-
74
tunatety,
the dragon found the whole idea very
interesting.
"It
could be very useful," Kazul said reflectively.
"There
are enough hot-tempered youngsters around
that it
would be well worth fireproofing the princesses
who
have to deal with them."
"I'm
not sure I'll be able to fireproof anyone at all,"
Cimorene
said. "I still need the white eagle feathers
and the
powdered hens' teeth, and nobody seems to
have
any."
"I'll
see what I can do," Kazul said, and a few days
later
she dropped a bundle of white feathers at the door
of the
kitchen. Half a feather was stuck to one of her
right
daws, and another was caught between two of
her
teeth, and she looked very pleased with herself.
Cimorene
decided not to ask any awkward questions.
Even
Kazul, however, could not find any hens' teeth,
so
Cimorene had to keep putting off trying out the spell.
When
she wasn't working on collecting the ingre-
dients
for the fireproofing spell, Cimorene read the
Historia
Dracorum. It was very difficult at first. After all,
it had
been a long time since her last Latin lesson. She
kept
working at it until she started to remember the
right
endings for the declensions and conjugations and
cases.
Shortly after that she realized that she was not
having
to look up quite as many words as she had at
the
beginning.
From
then on, her progress was rapid. It helped
that
she found the book fascinating. Dragon history
was not
a subject commonly taught to princesses in
Linderwall.
But as she was now a dragon's princess,
75
she had
personal reasons to be interested. Besides, the
history
of the dragons was very exciting. Every page
was
full of descriptions of dragons ravaging villages,
carrying
off princesses, defeating knights and princes
(and
occasionally being defeated by them), and fighting
with
wizards, giants, and each other. When the book
wasn't
describing battles, it was describing famous
dragons'
hoards and peculiar draconian customs.
Cimorene
was in the library with the Historic Dra-
corum
in front of her and her Latin dictionary on the
table
beside her left hand when she heard someone
calling
from the front of the cave. She had hoped it
would
be at least a little longer before the knights
started
coming back, so she couldn't help sighing as
she
stuck a leather bookmark in the book and closed
it.
Then she went out to argue with whoever it was
until
they went away.
Two
wizards were standing just outside the mouth
of the
cave. Cimorene saw their wooden staffs first,
before
she was close enough to see their faces. As she
came
nearer, she recognized the one on the left as
Zemenar.
The one on the right was taller and younger;
his
brown hair and beard showed no trace of gray. His
blue
and brown robes were identical to the older wiz-
ard's,
except for the colors. His eyes were the same
bright
black as his companion's, and he looked at Cim-
orene
in a way that made her feel uneasy.
"Good
morning to you. Princess Cimorene," Zem-
enar
said. "I thought I would take you up on your kind
invitation
to visit. I hope we haven't come at an incon-
venient
time?"
76
"Not
at all," Cimorene said, thinking hard. She
had
promised Kazul that she would try to find out what
Zemenar
was after if he showed up, and here he was.
Maybe
if she convinced him that she was as silly as her
sisters,
he would be careless enough to let something
slip.
"I
thought perhaps we might have since it took
you so
long to come out," Zemenar said mildly, but
Cimorene
thought there was a hint of suspicion in his
eyes.
"I
must not have heard you right away," Cimorene
said,
batting her eyes innocently, the way her next
youngest
sister did whenever she had done something
particularly
foolish. "Kazul has quite a large set of
caves,
and I was in one of the ones at the back. I'm so
sorry."
"Ah."
Zemenar stroked his beard with his left
hand.
"That would make it difficult for you. Perhaps
we
could set up a spell for you, one that would let you
know
whenever anyone comes to visit. It would be
more
pleasant for visitors, too, if they didn't have to
shout.
What do you think, Antorell?"
"Like
the one at the headquarters of the society,"
the
second wizard said, nodding. "We could do it in
two or
three minutes, right from here. It'd be easy."
Zemenar
shot a dark look at his companion. Cim-
orene
was sure that he'd wanted to pretend he was
inventing
a difficult new spell, so that he would have
an
excuse to wander around Kazul's caves. "Quite so,"
said
Zemenar. "Well, Princess?"
"Oh,
dear, I don't know," Cimorene said, doing
77
her
best to imitate the way her eldest sister behaved
whenever
anyone wanted her to decide anything. "It
sounds
very nice, but Kazul is so picky about where
things
go and how things are done. . . . No, I couldn't,
I
simply couldn't let you do anything like that without
asking
Kazul first."
"What
a pity," Zemenar said. His companion
coughed
and shuffled his feet. "Ah, yes. Allow me to
present
my son, Antorell. I hope you don't mind my
bringing
him along?"
"Of
course not," Cimorene said politely.
"I
am pleased to make the acquaintance of such a
lovely
princess," Antorell said, bowing.
Cimorene
blinked. This wasn't getting anywhere.
Maybe
if she brought them inside they'd relax a little.
"Thank
you," she said to Antorell. "Won't you come
in and
have some tea?"
"We
would be delighted," Zemenar said quickly.
"If
you'll lead the way. Princess?"
"This
way," Cimorene said. She stopped just in-
side
the mouth of the cave and gave the wizards her
sweetest
and most innocent smile. "You can leave your
staffs
right here. Just lean them up against the wall."
Antorell
looked considerably startled, and Zem-
enar
frowned. "Is this, too, something your dragon
requires?"
he said.
"I
don't know," Cimorene said, wrinkling up her
forehead
the way her third-from-eldest sister did when-
ever
she was puzzled (which was often). "But they'll
be so
awkward in the kitchen. Don't you think so?
There's
not very much room."
78
"We'll
manage," Zemenar said.
Cimorene
hadn't really expected to get the wizards
to let
go of their staffs, but it had been worth a try.
She
shrugged and smiled and led them on into the
kitchen,
where she made a point of bumping into the
staffs
or tripping over them every time she went by.
Finally
Antorell turned his sideways and stuck it under
the
table. Zemenar hung onto his with a kind of grim,
suspidous
stubbornness that made Cimorene wonder
whether
she was fooling him at all with her pretended
silliness.
The
wizards made uncomfortable conversation
about
the weather and the size of the kitchen for several
minutes
while Cimorene fixed the tea and poured it.
"Are
the rest of Kazul's caves this large?" Zemenar
asked
as Cimorene handed him his teacup. She had
given
him the one with the broken handle, even though
he was
a guest, because she didn't trust him.
"Oh,
yes," Cimorene said. She was beginning to
think
she was never going to find out anything. The
two
wizards seemed perfectly happy to sit at the
kitchen
table and talk about nothing whatever for
hours.
"Remarkable,"
said Antorell in an admiring tone.
"You
know, we wizards don't often get to see the inside
of a
dragon's cave."
I'll
bet you don't, thought Cimorene as she gave him
a
puzzled smile. "That's too bad," she said aloud.
"Yes,
it is," Zemenar said. "Perhaps you'd be will-
ing to
show us around?"
Cimorene
thought very rapidly. It was obvious that
79
she
wasn't going to learn anything if the wizards j» ••<
sat at
the kitchen table and drank tea, so she decic. >',
to take
a chance. "Well," she said in a doubtful to, i ,
"I
suppose it would be all right as long as I don't take
you
into the treasure rooms."
"That's
fine," Antorell said, a little too quickly.
"You
won't touch anything, will you?" Cimorene
said as
they stood up. "Kazul is so particular about
where
things are kept . . ."
"Of
course not," Zemenar said, smiling insin-
cerely.
Cimorene
smiled back and led the way out into
the
hall. She watched the wizards carefully as she took
them
through the large main cave, the general storage
caverns,
and the big cavern where Kazul visited with
other
dragons. Zemenar made polite noises about the
size and
comfort of everything, but neither he nor An-
torell
seemed very interested. "And this is the library,"
Cimorene
said, throwing the door open.
"I
am impressed," Zemenar said, and Cimorene
could
tell that this time he meant it. She stepped side-
ways,
so that she could keep an eye on both of the
wizards
at the same time.
"A
remarkable collection," Antorell commented.
He
began walking around the room, admiring the book-
shelves
and scanning the titles of the books.
"What's
this?" Zemenar said, bending over the
table.
"The Historia Dracorum? A surprising choice for
light
reading. Princess." His eyes met Cimorene's, and
they
were hard and bright and suspicious.
"Oh,
I'm not reading it," Cimorene said hastily,
So
opening
her eyes very wide. "I just thought it would
make
the library look nicer to have a book or two sitting
out on
the table. More—more lived-in."
Zemenar
nodded, looking relieved and faintly con-
temptuous.
"I think it works very well. Princess," he
said.
"Very well indeed." Then he looked over at the
other
side of the room and said sharply, "Antorell!
What
are you doing?"
Cimorene
turned her head in time to see Antorell
put out
a hand and deliberately tip several books off
one of
the shelves. "Stop that!" she said, forgetting to
sound
silly.
"I'm
very sorry. Princess," Antorell said. "Will you
help me
put them back where they belong?"
Cimorene
had no choice but to go over and help
him. It
took several minutes to get everything back in
place
because Antorell kept dropping things. Cimorene
got
quite annoyed with him and finally did it all herself.
As she
started to turn back to the center of the room,
she
caught a glimpse of Zemenar hastily dosing the
Historia
Dracorum. Cimorene pretended not to notice,
but she
made a mental note that he had been looking
at
something near the middle of the book.
"That
was dreadfully careless of you," Cimorene
said,
frowning at Antorell.
"Very
clumsy," Zemenar agreed.
"I
don't know what Kazul will say when she finds
out
about it," Cimorene went on. "Really, it is too bad
of you.
I did ask you not to touch anything, you know."
"Yes,
you did," Zemenar said. "And I wouldn't
like to
think that we had gotten you in trouble. Perhaps
81
it
would be best if you didn't mention to Kazul that
we were
here at all."
"I
suppose I could do that," Cimorene said in a
doubtful
tone.
"Of
course you can," Antorell said encouragingly.
"And
I'll come back in a few days, to make sure every-
thing's
all right."
"I
think ifs time we were on our way," Zemenar
said,
giving his son a dark look. "Thank you for show-
ing us
around. Princess."
Cimorene
escorted them out of the cave and made sure
they
had left, then hurried back to the library. She spent
the
next several hours poring over the middle parts of
the
Historia Dracorum, trying to figure out what Zem-
enar
had been looking at. She was still there when
Kazul
arrived home and called for her.
"That
wizard Zemenar finally came, and h-'
brought
his son along with him," Cimorene said as sho-
came
out of the library.
"I
know," said Kazul. Her voice sounded a littt>-
thick,
as if she had a cold. "I could smell them th°
minute
I came in."
"Is
that why you sound so odd?" Cimorene askec
"You're
not going to sneeze, are you?"
"I
don't think so," Kazul replied. "Don't worn
about
it. I'll have plenty of time to turn my head away.
"I
wish I could get hold of some hens' teeth," Cim-
orene
said, frowning. "That fireproofing spell—"
"Have
you looked in the treasure rooms?" Kazul
asked.
82
"No,"
Cimorene replied, startled. She remembered
seeing
a number of jars and bottles of various shapes
and
sizes when she had been organizing the treasure,
and
none of them had been labeled. "I didn't think of
it and
besides, ifs your treasure."
"You're
my princess, at least until someone rescues
you or
I decide otherwise," Kazul pointed out. "Go
ahead
and look, and if you find any hens' teeth, use
them.
Be careful when you're checking the jars, though.
There
are one or two with lead stoppers that shouldn't
be
opened."
"Lead
stoppers," Cimorene said. "I'll remember."
"Good.
Now, what did those wizards want?"
"I'm
not sure." Cimorene explained everything
that
had happened, including how she had seen Zem-
enar
closing the history book as she turned and how
the two
wizards had been perfectly willing to leave right
after
that. "But just before they disappeared, Antorell
said he
might come back another time," Cimorene con-
cluded.
"So I don't know whether they found what
they
were looking for or not."
"Do
you know which part of the Historia Dracorum
Zemenar
was reading?" Kazul asked.
"Somewhere
in the middle, a little past my book-
mark,"
Cimorene replied. "I was just looking at it when
you
came in. Ifs the part about how the dragons came
to the
Mountains of Morning and settled into the caves
and
chose a king."
'That's
the section where the Historia describes the
Caves
of Fire and Night, isn't it?" Kazul said.
Cimorene
nodded. "There was a whole page about
83
somebody
finding a stone in the caves so that the drag-
ons
could pick a king. It didn't make much sense to me."
"Colin's
Stone," Kazul said, nodding. "We've used
it to
choose our king ever since the first time. When a
king
dies, all the dragons go to the Ford of Whispering
Snakes
in the Enchanted Forest and take turns trying
to move
Colin's Stone from there to the Vanishing
Mountain.
The one that succeeds is the next king."
"What
if there are two dragons strong enough to
move
it?" Cimorene asked curiously.
"It's
not a matter of strength," Kazul said. "Colin's
Stone
isn't much larger than you are. Even a small
dragon
could carry that much weight twice around the
Enchanted
Forest without any trouble at all. But Colin's
Stone
has an aura, a kind of vibration. When you carry
it, you
can feel it humming through your claws, and
the
humming gets stronger the farther you go until
your
bones are shaking. Most dragons have to drop it
or be
shaken to pieces, but there's always one who
is ...
suited to the stone. For that dragon, the stone's
humming
is just a pleasant buzz, so of course it's easy
to get
it to the Vanishing Mountain."
"You
sound as if you've had experience," Cim-
orene
said.
"Of
course," Kazul responded matter-of-factly. "I
was old
enough to participate in the tests when the last
king
died." She smiled reminiscently. "I got farther
than
anyone expected me to, though I wasn't one of
the top
ten by any means."
Cimorene
tilted her head to one side, considering.
"I
think I'm glad you didn't win."
84
"Oh?
Why is that?" Kazul sounded amused.
"Because
you wouldn't have had any use for a
princess
if you were the Queen of the Dragons, and if
you
hadn't decided to take me on, that yellow-green
dragon
Moranz would probably have eaten me," Cim-
orene
explained.
"You
mean, if I were the King of the Dragons,"
Kazul
corrected her. "Queen of the Dragons is a dull
job."
"But
you're a female!" Cimorene said. "If you'd
carried
Colin's Stone from the Ford of Whispering
Snakes
to the Vanishing Mountain, you'd have had to
be a
queen, wouldn't you?"
"No,
of course not," Kazul said. "Queen of the
Dragons
is a totally different job from King, and ifs
not one
I'm particularly interested in. Most people
aren't.
I think the position's been vacant since Oraun
tore
his wing and had to retire."
"But
King Tokoz is a male dragon!" Cimorene said,
then
frowned. "Isn't he?"
"Yes,
yes, but that has nothing to do with it,"
Kazul
said a little testily. " 'King' is the name of the
job. It
doesn't matter who holds it."
Cimorene
stopped and thought for a moment.
"You
mean that dragons don't care whether their king
is male
or female; the title is the same no matter who
the
ruler is."
"That's
right. We like to keep things simple."
"Oh."
Cimorene decided to return to the original
topic
of conversation before the dragon's "simple"
ideas
confused her any further. "Why would the wiz-
85
ards be
interested in Colin's Stone if it's only used for
picking
out the kings of the dragons?"
"I
doubt that they are," Kazul replied. "However,
Colin's
Stone was found in the Caves of Fire and Night,
and
wizards have always been interested in the caves.
But the
dragons control most of them, .and all the easy
entrances
are ours, so the wizards have never been able
to find
out as much as they would like. The Historia
Dracorum
is one of the few books that talks about the
caves
at all, and there aren't many copies. I'll wager
Zemenar
would have stolen it outright if he'd thought
he
could get away with it."
"I
thought the dragons let wizards into the Caves
of Fire
and Night/' Cimorene objected. "Why would
Zemenar
be poking through history books looking for
information
if he can just go and look at them whenever
he
wants to?"
"We
don't let wizards visit the caves whenever
they
want," Kazul said. "If we did, they'd be running
in and
out all the time, and nobody would be able to
breathe
without sneezing. No, they're limited to certain
days
and times, and if they want to visit the Caves of
Fire
and Night otherwise, they have to use one of the
entrances
we don't control. Few of them try. The other
ways of
getting into the caves are very dangerous, even
for wizards."
"Maybe
they're looking for an easier way in."
"Mmm."
Kazul did not seem to be paying much
attention.
She thought for a moment, then turned to-
ward
the cave mouth. "I'm going to go see Gaurim.
Roxim
said a book had been stolen from her library,
86
and I
want to know which one. I'll be back in a few
hours."
"I
think I'll go look at the Historia Dracorum again
while
you're gone," Cimorene said thoughtfully. "If
there
is something useful in it about the Caves of Fire
and
Night, maybe I can find it, now that I know what
I'm
looking for."
Cimorene
spent the rest of the afternoon carefully trans-
lating
the chapter that talked about the caves. She was
disappointed
to find that there was very little about the
caves
themselves, though what was there was inter-
esting.
The book told how the dragons had discovered
the
back way into the caves and described some of the
things
they had found in them—caverns full of blue
and
green fire, pools of black liquid that would cast a
cloud
of darkness for twenty miles around if you
poured
three drops on the ground, walls made of crys-
tal
that multiplied every sound a thousandfold, rocks
that
spurted fire when they were broken. Most of the
rest of
the chapter was about Colin's Stone, and how
it was
taken out of the caves by the first King of the
Dragons.
Kazul
returned just before dinner, and she and
Cimorene
compared notes. Cimorene told Kazul what
she had
learned from the chapter on the Caves of Fire
and
Night, and then Kazul explained what she had
learned
from Gaurim.
"The
stolen book was The Kings of the Dragons, and
the
entire first section was about Colin's Stone and the
Caves
of Fire and Night," Kazul said. "And only a
8?
wizard
could have gotten past the spells and safeguards
Gaurim
puts on her library. I think that settles it. The
wizards
are definitely collecting information about the
Caves
of Fire and Night."
"Then
why do they keep looking at books of
dragon
history?" Cimorene asked. "It seems like a
roundabout
way of finding out whatever it is that they
want to
know."
"There
isn't any other way to do it," Kazul said.
"Nobody
but dragons has ever had much to do with
the
caves, and no one has written much about them
except
in dragon histories. Even the wizards weren't
particularly
interested in them until a few years ago,
except
as a reliable route into the Enchanted Forest."
"But
from what I've been reading in the Historia
Dracorum,
the caves sound fascinating," Cimorene said.
"You
mean to say that no one has ever written anything
about
the Caves of Fire and Night except dragons?"
"That's—"
Kazul stopped suddenly, and her eyes
narrowed.
"No, that's not right. There was a rather
rumpled
scholar who talked his way into the caves a
century
or so back, and after he left he wrote an ex-
tremely
dry book about what he found there. I'd for-
gotten
about him."
"Do
you have a copy?" Cimorene asked hopefully.
"No,"
Kazul said. "But I don't think the Society
of
Wizards does, either. There weren't very many of
them
printed, and a lot of those were lost in a flood a
few
years later. Some hero or other shoved a giant into
a lake
to drown him. The silly clunch didn't realize that
if he
put something that big into a lake, the water would
have to
go somewhere."
88
"Well,
that doesn't do us much good," Cimorene
said.
"It's nice that the Society of Wizards doesn't have
a copy
of that book, but if we can't get hold of one
either—"
"I
didn't say that," Kazul said. "I don't have a
copy
myself, but I know who does."
"Who?"
Cimorene said impatiently.
"Morwen.
I'm afraid you're not going to be able
to work
on that fireproofing spell of yours tomorrow.
We're
going to take a trip to the Enchanted Forest
instead."
89
7
In
Vfhich Cimorene and Kazul
Make a
Journey Underground
v»»imorene
was surprised to hear that Kazul intended
to take
her along on the visit to Morwen, and she was
not
entirely sure she liked the idea. She had heard a
great
deal about the Enchanted Forest, and none of it
was
reassuring. People who traveled there were always
getting
changed into flowers or trees or animals or
rocks,
or doing something careless and having their
heads
turned backward, or being carried off by ogres
or
giants or trolls, or enchanted by witches or wicked
fairies.
It did not sound like a good place for a casual,
pleasant
visit.
On the
other hand, it seemed unlikely that any-
thing
dreadful would happen to Cimorene if she were
90
traveling
with a dragon, and she was looking forward
to
seeing Morwen again. Besides, Cimorene was
curious.
"And
anyway," she said to herself, "Kazul says
I'm
going, and there's no point in worrying about it if
I don't
have any choice." Nevertheless, she dedded to
take
one of the smaller magic swords along with her,
if
Kazul said it was all right. Cimorene saw no point
in
taking unnecessary chances.
Kazul
had no objection, so Cimorene picked out a
small,
plain-looking sword in a worn leather scabbard
that
made the wearer invincible, and they started off.
Cimorene
had assumed that Kazul would fly through
the
pass, but Kazul said no.
"Ifs
not that easy to get into the Enchanted For-
est,"
she explained. "At least, not if you're trying to
get in.
Princes and youngest sons and particularly
clever
tailors stumble into it by accident all the time,
but if
one wants to go there on purpose, one has to
follow
the proper route."
"I
didn't think dragons had that kind of problem,"
Cimorene
said.
"Dragons
don't," Kazul replied. "But you're not a
dragon."
So
instead of flying through the Pass of Silver Ice,
Kazul
led Cimorene through the tunnels. Cimorene had
to walk
very quickly to keep up, even though Kazul
was
moving slowly. It was not long before she was
wishing
that the tunnels were high enough for her to
ride on
Kazul's back. The route twisted around and up
and
back and forth and down and around again until
Cimorene
was thoroughly lost. Finally they came to a
gate
made of iron bars that completely blocked the
passage.
Cimorene studied it carefully, but she could
see no
sign of a handle or a lock.
"This
is the entrance to the Caves of Fire a" ^
Night,"
Kazul said. "Be careful from here on,,and dor ,
wander
away or you'll get lost."
Cimorene
refrained from saying that as far as s'r -
was
concerned, they were lost already. "How are y*
going
to open it?" she asked instead.
"Like
this," said Kazul.
"By
night and flame and shining rock
Open
thou thy hidden lock.
Alberolingam!"
As the
sound of Kazul's voice died away, the iron
gate
swung silently open. "That's a very unusual open-
ing
spell," Cimorene commented, impressed.
"It
wasn't always that complicated," Kazul said.
She
sounded almost apologetic. "I believe the first ver-
sion
was very simple, just 'Open sesame,' but word
got
around and we had to change it."
Cimorene
nodded and followed Kazul through the
gate
and into the Caves of Fire and Night. For the first
hundred
yards or so, the only difference Cimorene
could
see between these caves and the ordinary tunnels
on the
other side of the gate was that the Caves of Fire
and
Night were warmer. Then, very suddenly, her
lamp
went out, plunging everything into complete and
utter
blackness.
Cimorene
stopped walking immediately. "Kazul?"
"It's
quite all right. Princess," Kazul's disembodied
voice
said from out of the darkness. "This happens all
the
time here. Don't bother trying to relight the lamp.
Just
put your hand on my elbow and follow along that
way."
"AU
right," Cimorene said doubtfully. She groped
with
her free hand in the direction of Kazul's voice and
scraped
her knuckles on the dragon's scales. "Ow!"
"Take
your time," Kazul advised.
"I'm
ready," Cimorene said. Her right hand was
pressed
flat against the cool, rough-edged scales at
the
back of Kazul's left forearm. "Just don't move
too
fast, or I'll lose you or get stepped on or some-
thing."
Kazul
did her best to oblige, but Cimorene still had
difficulty
in keeping up. She had to take at least three
steps
for every one of Kazul's, and it seemed that every
time
she moved her foot, she hit a rock or an uneven
place
in the tunnel floor. Then she would stumble, and
her
hand would scrape and slide against Kazul's scales,
so that
she was afraid she would lose contact with the
dragon.
"Are
you sure I shouldn't try and relight the
lamp?"
Cimorene asked after her fifth painful stumble-
and-shde.
"Quite
sure," Kazul said. "You see, it isn't—ah,
there
it goes." While Kazul was speaking, there was a
flicker
of light, and then the darkness rolled aside like
a
curtain being pulled. Cimorene found herself stand-
ing in
a large cave whose walls glittered as if they were
93
studded
with thousands of tiny mirrors. The lamp ir
her
left hand was burning cheerfully once more.
"Was
it the lamp?" Cimorene asked after studying
it for
a moment. "Or was it me?"
"It
was the caves," Kazul said. "That was one of
the
reasons they're 'of night' as well as 'of fire.' "
"Only
one of the reasons?" Cimorene said thought-
fully.
"I don't like the sound of that."
"You'll
be quite all right as long as you're with
me,"
Kazul assured her. "Very few things are willing
to mess
with a dragon, even in the dark. And the
periods
of darkness don't last long. Ifs because the
magic
of these caves doesn't affect us as much as other
people,
or so I'm told."
"You
mean that blackness is likely to come back?"
Kazul
nodded.
"Then
let's get as far as we can before it does,"
Cimorene
said, and started across the cave.
There
were four tunnels leading out of the opposite
side of
the glittering cavern. Kazul took the second from
the
left without hesitating an instant.
"Where
do all these tunnels go?" Cimorene asked,
glancing
at the other three openings as she followed
Kazul.
"The
one on the right end leads to a chain of cav-
erns,"
Kazul said over her shoulder. "The first few are
quite
ordinary, but then you come to one full of hot
sulfur
pools. Some of the older dragons bathe there.
They
claim the water is good for rheumatism. Beyond
that is
a cave with molten silver dripping down the
walls,
and the chain ends at a deep chasm with a river
of
red-hot melted rock at the bottom."
94
"Doesn't
sound very attractive," Cimorene com-
mented.
"The
dwarfsmiths find it very useful for forging
magic
swords," Kazul assured her. "The second tunnel
on the
right takes you into a maze. The tunnels and
caverns
constantly shift around, so that no matter how
carefully
you mark your way, you always get lost."
"Even
dragons?"
Kazul
nodded. "Though I believe there was one
prince
who managed to find his way out with a magic
ball of
string."
"Oh,
bother!" said Cimorene. The lights had gone
out
again, just as they emerged into a small cave.
"Ifs
quite all right. This part's easy," Kazul said.
"Next
time I'm going to bring a cane," Cimorene
muttered.
"Where do the other tunnels lead?"
"The
one on the far left goes through a couple of
caverns
that are pretty, but not very interesting. We're
always
chasing knights and princes out of it, though.
They
come for flasks of water from the bottomless pool
at the
far end."
"What
does it do?" Cimorene asked. "Ow!" She
had
just banged her right elbow against the wall of the
cave in
the dark.
"It
casts a cloud of darkness for twenty miles
around
when ifs poured on the ground," Kazul re-
plied.
"How
useful," Cimorene muttered balefully, rub-
bing
her elbow.
"And
this tunnel leads to the Enchanted Forest,
by way
of the King's Cave," Kazul finished.
"Oh,
good. I was hoping to see that," Cimorene
95
said.
The King's Cave was the chamber where the first
King of
the Dragons had found Colin's Stone, and the
Historia
Dracorum had not described it anywhere near
well enough
to suit Cimorene. "And here's the light
coming
back, thank goodness. Lefs hurry before it goes
again."
They
went through three small caves and two more
periods
of blackness before they reached the King's
Cave.
Kazul pointed out various locations of interest,
such as
the wall of crystal with a chip in one comer
where
the Prince of the Ruby Throne had stolen a piece
to make
a magic ring and the jewel-studded cavern
where
the King of the Dragons met with people who
needed
impressing. There was one very eerie cave full
of
slabs of black rock. Most were standing on end,
though
a few had fallen over. Kazul said they were all
enchanted
princes.
"All
of them?" Cimorene asked, appalled. There
were at
least forty of the stone slabs, and the cave was
quite
crowded.
Kazul
shook her head. "No, the one on the end
there
is just an ordinary boulder."
"How
did it happen?"
"The
princes came to steal some of the Water of
Healing
from the well at the end of the cave," Kazul
said.
"There are two dippers by the well: one is tin,
the
other is solid gold and covered with jewels. The
princes
all tried to use the gold one, even though they'd
been
told that only the tin dipper would work. It's no
more
than they deserve."
Cimorene
frowned, thinking of some of the princes
96
she had
known. "Well, I won't deny that they probably
behaved
foolishly, but—"
"Foolishly!"
Kazul snorted. "Any reasonably well-
educated
prince ought to have sense enough to follow
directions
when he's on a quest, but all of these fellows
were
sure they knew better. If they'd simply done what
they
were told, they wouldn't be here."
"Still,
turning them into slabs of stone forever
seems a
little extreme."
"Oh,
they won't be stone forever," Kazul said.
"Sooner
or later someone will come along who has the
sense
not to improvise, and he'll succeed in getting the
water.
Then he'll use some of it to disenchant this lot,
and the
cave will be empty for a while until the next
batch
of young idiots starts arriving."
Cimorene
felt better knowing that the princes
would
someday be freed, though she had sense enough
not to
try doing it herself. Since she had not been sent
on a
quest for the Water of Healing, it was highly
unlikely
that she would be able to disenchant the
princes
even if she succeeded in taking the water. And
she
knew enough about quests and enchantments and
the
obtaining of things with magical properties to know
that
she would probably get into a lot of trouble if she
tried.
So she tucked the matter into the back of her
mind
and followed Kazul through the stone-filled cav-
ern.
She was careful not to step on any of the fallen
slabs.
Just
outside the entrance to the next cave, Kazul
stopped.
"This," she said, "is the King's Cave. We have
to
cross it as quickly as we can. Don't stop in the
97
middle,
and don't say anything while we're inside.
Understand?
Good. Come on, then."
As soon
as she stepped inside the cave, Cimorene
understood
the reason for Kazul's request for silence.
The
walls, the ceiling, and the floor were made of dark,
shiny
stone that multiplied and threw back echoes of
even
the smallest sound. The soft scraping of Kazul's
scales
against the floor sounded like thirty men sawing
wood,
and the tiny gasp Cimorene gave at the sight
and
sound of the cave was as loud as if she had
shouted.
Cimorene went on as quietly and carefully as
she
could.
Halfway
across, she noticed the vibration. It began
as a
gentle and not unpleasant buzzing in her bones,
unrelated
to the loud and continually multiplying
echoes
of her passage, though it, too, grew stronger
the
farther into the cave she went. Kazul was in front
of her
now, and she saw the dragon's tail lash once,
as if
in pain or anger. Suddenly she remembered Ka-
zul's
description of the aura that made it impossible for
most
dragons to carry Colin's Stone, and that this was
the
place where Colin's Stone had been found. No
wonder
Kazul was uncomfortable.
Cimorene
found herself wishing she could stop
and pay
attention to the humming in her bones, but
she
remembered Kazul's directions and continued
walking.
She had nearly reached the exit when she saw
a
pebble about the size of her thumbnail, made of the
same
dark, shiny stone as the cavern walls. Kazul had
said
nothing about picking things up, so Cimorene
veered
a little to the right and scooped the pebble up
98
as she
passed. A moment later she was out of the cave.
"Phew!"
said Kazul. "I'm glad thafs over. From
here
on, it should be easy."
"Good,"
said Cimorene. She dropped the pebble
into
her pocket to look at more closely later and fo'
lowed
Kazul down the narrow, winding tunnel.
99
8
In
Which Cimorene and Kazul Pay a Call,
and
Cimorene Gets into a Fight
£\. few
minutes later they came out of the Caves of
Fire
and Night into bright sunMght. Cimorene had to
shade
her eyes against the sudden glare. As her eyes
adjusted,
she saw a large clearing around the mouth
of the
cave. The ground was covered with short grass,
so lush
and dense that it made Cimorene think of green
fur.
Here and there a tiny flower twinkled among the
blades
of grass. At the edge of the clearing the forest
began,
but Cimorene could only make out the first row
of
trees. They were enormous, so large that they
dwarfed
even Kazul.
"Leave
the lamp here," Kazul said. "There's no
100
sense
in carting it around the forest when we won't
need it
until we come back."
Cimorene
set the lamp on the ground just inside
the
mouth of the cave. "Now what?" she said.
"Now
we go to Morwen's," Kazul said. "And we'll
get
there more quickly if you ride. If you climb up on
that
rock over there, you ought to be able to get on my
back
without too much trouble."
"Are
you sure you don't mind?" Cimorene said,
scrambling
up onto the rock Kazul had indicated.
"I
wouldn't have suggested it if I minded," Kazul
said.
"Right there will be fine. You can hang onto the
spike
in front of you and you won't foul my wings if
I have
to take off suddenly."
Cimorene
did not like the implication that there
were
things in the Enchanted Forest that were nasty
enough
to make a dragon want to take off suddenly,
but she
did not say so. It was too late to back out, and
she
certainly wasn't going to wait at the mouth of the
cave
all alone while Kazul went off to visit Morwen.
There
was no reason to think that waiting would be
any
safer than going along.
As soon
as Cimorene was settled, Kazul set off into
the
forest at a rapid pace. At first Cimorene had to
concentrate
on holding on, but after a while she began
to get
the hang of it. Soon she was able to look at some
of the
things they were passing. The trees were huge;
Cimorene
guessed that even if there were four of her^^-
holding
hands, she would not be able to reach all the
way
around one of the trunks. The ground was car-
peted
with bright green moss that looked even thicker
101
than
the grass in the clearing. Cimorene saw no flowers
in it,
but she spotted several bushes and a vine with
three
different colors of fruit.
Kazul
changed course several times for no reason
that
Cimorene could see, but she did not like to distract
the
dragon by asking questions. They passed a mansion
guarded
by a fence made of gold and a short tower
without
any windows or doors. Then Kazul splashed
through
a shallow stream and made a sharp turn. The
trees
thinned a little, and Kazul stopped in front of a
neat
gray house with a wide porch and a red roof. Over
the
door was a black-and-gold sign in large block letters
reading,
"NONE OF THIS NONSENSE, PLEASE "
There
were several cats of various sizes and colors
perched
on the porch railing or lying in the sun. As
Cimorene
dismounted, Kazul said to one of them,
"Would
you be good enough to tell Morwen that I'm
here
and would like to talk to her?"
The
cat, a large gray torn, blinked its yellow eyes
at
Kazul. Then he jumped down from the porch rail
and
sauntered into the house, his tail held high as if
to say,
"I'm doing this as a particular favor, mind, and
don't
you forget it."
"He
doesn't seem very impressed," Cimorene
commented
in some amusement.
"Why
should he be?" Kazul said.
"Well,
you're a dragon," Cimorene answered, a
little
taken aback.
"What
difference does that make to a cat?"
Fortunately,
Cimorene did not have to find an an-
swer,
for at that moment Morwen appeared in the door-
102
way.
She was wearing the same black robe she had
worn
when she visited Cimorene, or another one ex-
actly
like it, and she peered through her glasses with
the air
of someone studying an unexpected and rather
peculiar
puzzle.
"Good
morning, Kazul," she said after a moment.
"This
is a surprise."
"Good,"
said Kazul. "If you aren't expecting us to
be
here, no one else is, either."
"Thafs
the way of things, is it?" Morwen com-
mented
thoughtfully. "How much of a hurry are you
in?"
"Not
much of one, as long as no one knows we're
here,"
Kazul replied.
"Then
Cimorene had better get down and have
something
to drink," Morwen said in a tone that for-
bade
contradiction. "There's cider, or goat's milk,
though
if you want that, you'll have the cats after you,
or I
can put a kettle on for tea. Good gradous, what
have
you done to your hand?"
While
Morwen had been talking, Cimorene had
t turned and slid carefully down Kazul's
side. It was a
I long slide, and when her feet hit the
ground, she had
f to put out a hand to keep from falling.
Morwen's ex-
clamation
made her blink in surprise, and she looked
i down. The palm of her right hand was covered
with
j blood from half a dozen deep slashes and as
many
scrapes.
"Oh,
dear," Cimorene said. "It must have hap-
pened
in the caves, when it was so dark. I didn't realize.
It
doesn't hurt at all."
103
"Hurting
or not, it needs attention," Morwen said
firmly.
"Come inside, and I'll see to it while Kazul tells
me why
you're here. You'll have to go around back
this
time," she added, turning to Kazul. "The front
steps
won't take the weight. A gnome stole one of the
supports,
and I haven't had time to get it fixed yet.
Pesky
creatures—they're worse than mice."
"Don't
the cats keep the mice away?" Cimorene
asked,
mildly puzzled.
"Yes,
but they don't do a thing about gnomes,
which
is why gnomes are worse. Mind the step."
Kazul
started walking while Morwen shooed Cim-
orene
up the wooden steps and into the house. Several
of the
cats eyed Cimorene curiously as she passed, and
a
tortoiseshell kitten got up and followed her in.
The
front door led into a large, airy room with an
iron
stove in one comer. There was a good deal of
furniture,
but everything except the table and the stove
had at
least one cat on top of it. Morwen frowned at a
fat and
fluffy Persian that was sitting on one of the
chairs.
The cat stood up, yawned, gave its front paws
a
cursory lick or two just to show that this was all his
own
idea, and jumped down onto the floor. As Cim-
orene
sat down in the vacated chair, there was a knock
at the
wooden door on the opposite side of the room.
"That'll
be Kazul," Morwen said. She crossed to
tile
door and opened it. "Come in. I'll get you some
dder as
soon as I've seen to Cimorene's hand."
Morwen's
back door did not seem to get any larger,
and
Kazul certainly did not get any smaller, but when
she put
her head through the doorway, her scales did
104
not
even scrape the sides. The rest of her followed with
no
apparent difficulty, and somehow there was plenty
of room
in the kitchen even after she got inside.
Kazul
settled down along the far wall, where she
would
be out of the way, and as soon as she stopped
moving,
six cats jumped onto various portions of her
tail,
back, and shoulders. Neither Kazul nor Morwen
seemed
to notice. Morwen took a small tin box from a
shelf
beside the stove and sat down at the table beside
Cimorene.
"Now, tell me what you're here for," she
said,
taking a roll of linen and two jars of ointment out
of the
box. "Apart from my dder, I mean."
"Cimorene
had some interesting visitors yester-
day,"
Kazul said.
"If
they were interesting, they can't have been
knights,"
Morwen commented.
"They
weren't," Kazul said. "They were wizards,
and
they went to a lot of trouble to get a look at my
copy of
the Historia Dracorum. The part that describes
the
Caves of Fire and Night."
"And
you think thafs why they've been sniffing
around
the Mountains of Morning for the past six
months,"
Morwen said. "How did you find out what
they
were looking at? Or did they ask permission?"
"I
don't think Zemenar would ask permission for
anything
even if he was sure he'd get it," Cimorene
said.
"He'd consider it beneath him. No, I saw him
shut
the book, and he was only a little further along
from
where I'd left my bookmark. Ow! That stings."
"Good,"
Morwen said. "It's supposed to." She
closed
the jar of salve she had been smearing on Cim-
105
orene's
palm and began wrapping the injured hand in
the
linen bandage. "Did Zemenar get what he was
after?"
"I
don't think so," Cimorene said. "He said he
wanted
to come back for another visit, and I don't think
he'd
have done that if he'd found whatever he was
looking
for."
"That
seems like a reasonable assumption," Mor-
wen
said. "Though wizards aren't always reasonable.
There,
that should take care of things. Don't take the
bandage
off for at least four days, and if you're going
to cook
anything that has fennel in it, stir it left-
handed."
"Zemenar's
interest in the Historia Dracorum isn't
the
only thing that points to his curiosity about the
Caves
of Fire and Night," Kazul said, and explained
about
the book that had been stolen. "There have been
other
incidents as well, and nearly all the wizards we've
caught
poking around have been somewhere in or near
the
caves. Thafs why no one thought much about it
at
first. Ever since King Tokoz made that agreement
with
the Society of Wizards, they've been claiming
they're
supposed to have more time in the caves than
we're
willing to give them. Everyone thought this was
more of
the same."
"Not
everyone," Morwen said, giving Kazul a
sharp
look.
"I
am widely considered to be unduly suspicious
of
everyone and everything," Kazul said in a dry tone.
"Particularly
wizards."
"And
what do your suspicions make of this busi-
ness?"
106
"I
think Zemenar is trying to find out something
about
the Caves of Fire and Night," Kazul said. "Some-
thing
he hasn't been able to leam from visiting the caves
in
person, hence his recent interest in histories that
describe
the caves, however briefly."
"And
you're hoping I have something in my library
that
will help you figure out what it is," Morwen
concluded.
"I
don't hope," Kazul said. "I know. Unless some-
one has
run off with your copy of DeMontmorency's
A
Journey Through the Caves of Fire and Night." /
"If
someone has, he'll regret it," Morwen said.
"Wait
here, and I'll check." She rose and went out.
Through
the doorway Cimorene could see a room full
of
tall, dark-stained shelves.
Cimorene
blinked. "Isn't that the door you came
in
through?" she asked Kazul.
Kazul
nodded. "Of course."
"I
thought it led out into Morwen's yard."
"It
leads wherever Morwen wants it to lead," Kazul
said.
"1
see," said Cimorene, wishing her father's court
philosopher
were there. He was very pompous and
stuffy,
particularly about magic, which he claimed was
90
percent trickery and the rest illusion. Cimorene had
found
him very trying. Dealing with Morwen's door
would
probably have given him a headache.
Morwen
came back into the kitchen holding a thin
red
book. "Here it is. I'm sorry it took me so long to
find
it, but the nonfiction isn't organized as well as it
should
be yet."
Kazul
surged to her feet, shedding cats in all di-
107
rections.
The cats gave her reproachful looks and then
stalked
out the front door with affronted dignity. Kazul
paid no
attention. She curled her head around to peer
at the
book over Morwen's shoulder.
"I
suppose you'll want to borrow it?" Morwen said.
"I
certainly do," Kazul said. "Is there a problem?'
"Only
if it gets stolen," Morwen said. "There are
very
few of these around, and I'm not sure I could
replace
it."
"I'll
keep it in the vault with the treasure," Kazui
promised.
"Zemenar won't think to look for it there,
and
even if he does, he won't get in. I've got enough
anti-wizard
spells on the door to stop the whole Society.
They
can't get in unless someone invites them."
"All
right," Morwen said, handing the book to
Kazul.
"Is that everything you came for?"
"No,"
said Kazul. She looked at Morwen with lim-
pid
eyes and went on in a plaintive tone, "I still haven't
had any
dder."
Morwen
laughed and went to one of the cup-
boards.
She pulled out two mugs and a large mixing
bowl
and filled them with an amber-colored liquid she
poured
from a heavy-looking pottery jug. She set the
mixing
bowl in front of Kazul and gave one of the mugs
to
Cimorene, then sat down with the second mug
herself.
They
were in Morwen's kitchen for over an hour,
drinking
dder and speculating about what the wizards
were up
to. After a while several of the cats came back,
apd
Morwen gave them a dish of goafs milk, which
soothed
their ruffled feelings somewhat.
io8
"How
is that fireproofing spell of yours coming?"
Morwen
asked as she returned to the table.
"I
have everything I need except the powdered
hens'
teeth, and I'm beginning to think I'm never going
to find
any," Cimorene said. "Kazul has offered to let
me look
through the jars in the treasury, but if there
isn't
any there, I don't know where I'll look next."
"Really,"
Morwen said, giving Kazul a sharp look.
"Well,
if you can't find any hens' teeth, you could try
substituting
snake fingernails or the hair from a turtle's
egg. I
wouldn't try it except as a last resort, though.
Altering
spells is a very tricky business."
At last
they had to leave. Kazul went out the same
way she
had come in while Cimorene watched in fas-
cination.
Then Cimorene and Morwen went onto the
front
porch. Kazul sidled up to the house, and Cimo-
rene
stood on the porch railing to climb onto her back.
The
cats were seriously affronted by this maneuver and
expressed
their displeasure in reproachful glances and
low
yowls.
"Don't
take any notice," Morwen said. "It only
encourages
them."
Qmorene
nodded. "Thank you for everything."
"You're
quite welcome," Morwen answered.
"Don't
wait too long to come again."
"You'd
better take this. Princess," Kazul said,
reaching
back over her shoulder to hand Morwen's
book to
Qmorene. "I can't carry it and run at the same
time."
Qmorene
took the book and tucked it into her
pocket.
"I'm all set," she said, and they started off.
109
Cimorene
enjoyed the ride back to the Mountains of
Morning.
She was now sufficiently accustomed to rid-
ing on
a dragon to be able to concentrate on looking
at the
forest as it flashed past. The trees seemed almost
identical
to one another, but Cimorene spotted quite s
few
odd-looking bushes and vines, and twice she
thought
she saw small faces staring out at her frorr.
among
leafy branches.
They
reached the threshold of the caves much
sooner
than Cimorene expected. Kazul waited while
she
slid to the ground, then said, "The entrance is a
little
narrow. I'll go first and make sure there's nothing
unpleasant
waiting for us."
Cimorene
nodded, and Kazul vanished into the
cave.
Before Cimorene could follow, she heard a shrill
cry
above her. She looked up and saw an enormous
white
bird plummeting toward her, its clawed feet ex-
tended
to attack. For an instant, Cimorene was frozen
by
surprise and fear. Then she ducked and reached for
her
sword.
She was
almost too slow. The bird was on top of
her,
shrieking and slashing, before she had done more
than
grasp the hilt of her weapon. But the sword
seemed
to leap out of the scabbard as soon as she
touched
it, and she swung clumsily as she rolled aside.
She did
not expect to do any damage, just to force the
bird to
back away a little, but she felt the sword connect
and
heard a wail of pain from the bird. Thanking all
her
lucky stars individually and by name, Cimorene
twisted
and scrambled to her feet, sword ready.
no
There
was nothing for her to guard against. The
sword
stroke had been more effective than she realized.
The
bird was dying. As she stared at it, it raised its
head.
"You
killed me?" the bird said incredulously. "But
you're
a maiden."
"Actually,
she's a princess," Kazul's voice said
from
behind Cimorene. "My princess, so you'd have
been in
even bigger trouble if you'd succeeded in car-
rying
her off."
"I
don't think I could have done it if I hadn't had
a magic
sword," said Cimorene, who was beginning to
wish
she hadn't. She had never hurt anyone before,
and she
didn't like it.
"Just
my luck," the bird said disgustedly. "Oh,
well,
fair's fair. You killed me, so you get my forfeit."
"You're
not dead yet," Cimorene said. "If you'll
let me
near, I can try to stop the bleeding—"
"Not
a chance," the bird said. It was beginning to
sound
rather faint. "Do you want the forfeit or don't
you?"
"Take
it," Kazul advised.
Cimorene
said nothing, and after a moment the
bird
said, "All right, then. Under my left wing, you'll
find
three black feathers. If you drop one and wish to
be
somewhere else, you'll find yourself there in the
twinkling
of an eye. Any questions?"
"Can
I take anyone else with me?" Cimorene
asked,
thinking that if the bird was so determined to
give
her the feathers, she might as well cooperate with
it.
in
The
bird looked at her with respect. "Will wonders
never
cease. For once a human with sense is getting
the
forfeit. Yes, you can take someone with you, as
long as
you're touching him. Same for objects; if you
can
carry it, you can take it with you. You get one trip
per
feather. Thafs all."
"But—"
said Cimorene, and stopped. The bird's
head
had fallen back, and it was dearly quite dead.
"Don't
feel too bad," Kazul said perceptively. "If
it had
succeeded in carrying you off, it would have fed
you to
its nestlings."
"Fed
me to its nestlings?" Cimorene discovered
that
she had lost her sympathy for the dead bird. "What
a
horrid thing to do!" She hesitated. "Won't the nest-
lings
starve, now that the bird is dead?"
"No,
one of the other birds will take over the chore
of
feeding them for a few weeks until they're big
enough
to catch their own food," Kazul said. "Now,
clean
that sword and take your feathers, and lefs get
going.
I want to have a look at that book of Morwen's."
Cimorene
nodded and did as she was told. The
three
black feathers were right where the bird had said
they
would be, and she put them in her pocket with
Morwen's
book and the black pebble from the Caves
of Fire
and Night. She wiped the sword on the grass
several
times, then finished cleaning it with her hand-
kerchief.
When she finished, she left the handkerchief
beside
the dead bird and followed Kazul into the Caves
of Fire
and Night.
112
9
In
Which Themndil Is a Dreadful Nuisance,
and
Cimorene Casts a Spell
he rest
of the trip home was uneventful. Passing
through
the King's Cave seemed easier going in the
opposite
direction, and the impenetrable darkness only
descended
once. As soon as they arrived, Kazul took
the
book Morwen had lent them and curled herself
around
a rock just outside the mouth of the cave to
study
it while Cimorene made dinner. She pored over
the
book all evening, and Cimorene found it fascinating
to
watch the dragon delicately turning pages with her
daws.
Early the next day Kazul went off to consult with
Roxim.
Cimorene
was rather stiff from all the dragon-
"3
riding
she had done the previous day, so she decided
not to
do any more cleaning. Instead, she spent the
morning
in Kazul's treasure room, sorting through
likely
looking bottles and jars for those that might pos-
sibly
contain powdered hens' teeth. Remembering Ka-
zul's
advice, she started by setting aside all the bottles
she
could find that had lead stoppers. Since the light
was not
very good, she took the jars and bottles that
looked
as if they might be worth investigating and piled
them in
her apron, so as to carry them outside more
easily.
She had
nearly finished sorting when she heard a
voice
calling faintly in the distance.
"Bother!"
she said. "I did hope they'd leave me
alone a
little longer."
She
bundled the last five bottles into her apron
without
looking at them and, not forgetting to lock the
door
behind her, hurried out through the maze to see
who was
shouting for her this time.
It was
Therandil.
"What
are you doing here?" Cimorene said crossly.
"I
told you I wasn't going to be ready to be rescued
for at
least a month!"
"I
was worried," Therandil said. "I heard that
you'd
broken a leg, but you look fine to me."
"Of
course I haven't broken a leg," Cimorene said.
"Where
did you get that idea?"
"Some
knight at the inn at the foot of the moun-
tain,"
Therandil replied. "He was up yesterday, talking
to the
princess he's trying to rescue, and he came back
and
warned everybody not to bother with the princess
"4
that
was captured by the dragon Kazul. Well, I knew
that
was you, so I asked why, and he said his princess
told
him you'd broken your leg and wouldn't be able
to walk
for months."
Cimorene
smiled slightly. Alianora had apparently
gone
through with her plan to tell Hallanna about Cim-
orene's
"twisted ankle," and Hallanna had decided to
improve
the story a little in hopes of reducing the com-
petition.
"Somebody must have gotten mixed up,"
Cimorene
said gently. "You can stop worrying. I'm
fine.
Is that all you came for? These jars are getting
heavy,
and I've got work to do."
"Cimorene,
we have to talk," Therandil said in a
heavy,
deep voice.
"Then
we'll have to do it while I work," Cimorene
declared.
She turned on her heel and marched into the
kitchen,
full of annoyance. She had been feeling almost
friendly
toward Therandil—he had been worried about
her,
after all—until he said he wanted to talk. Cimorene
was
quite sure that what he wanted to talk about was
rescuing
her, and she was annoyed with him for being
so
stupidly stubborn and annoyed with herself for
being
annoyed when he was only trying to do the best
he
could.
Therandil
followed her into the kitchen. "What is
all
that?" he asked as Cimorene put the apron full of
jars on
the kitchen table and began lining them up.
"Some
things I'm checking for Kazul," Cimorene
said.
She picked up a small jar made of carved jade
and
pried the lid off. It was half full of green salve.
Cimorene
put the lid back on and set the jar aside.
"5
"What
was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked,
reaching
for another jar.
"You.
Dragons. Us. That looks interesting. Can I
help?"
"As
long as you don't break anything," Cimorene
said.
"Some of these are very fragile." Maybe opening
jars
would make him forget about You. Dragons. Us, for
a
while.
"I'll
be very careful," Therandil assured her. "This
one
looks like metal. I'll start with that, shall I?" He
picked
up one of the larger jars, made of beaten copper
with
two handles. He frowned at the top, then reached
for his
dagger, and as he tilted the jar, Cimorene saw
that
the neck was stopped up with lead.
"Not
that one!" she said quickly. She didn't re-
member
picking out that particular jar. It must have
been
one of the last four or five that she'd scooped up
when
she heard Therandil calling.
"Why
not?" Therandil said, sounding rather hurt.
"I
said I'd be careful." The tip of his dagger was already
embedded
in the lead.
"Kazul
said to leave the ones with lead stoppers
alone,"
Cimorene said. "So put it back."
"If
you insist," Therandil said, shrugging. He
pulled
on his dagger, but it was stuck fast in the lead.
"Drat!"
he said, and twisted the handle. The dagger
came
free, and the lead stopper came along with it.
"I
should have known," Cimorene said in a re-
signed
tone.
A black
cloud of smoke poured out of the jar. As
Cimorene
and Therandil watched, it condensed into a
116
dark-skinned
giant wearing only a turban and a loin-
cloth.
He was more than twice as tall as Therandil, and
the
comers of his mouth were turned down in a stem
frown.
"What
is it?" whispered Therandil.
"Trouble,"
said Cimorene.
"Thou
speakest truly, 0 Daughter of Wisdom,"
said
the giant in a booming voice that filled the cave.
"For
I am a jinn, who was imprisoned in that jar, and
I am
the instrument of thy death and that of thy
paramour."
"My
what?" Cimorene said, outraged.
"Thy
lover," the jinn said uncomfortably. "The
man who
stands beside thee."
"I
know what you meant," Cimorene said. "But he
isn't
my lover, or my fiance, or my boyfriend or any-
thing,
and I refuse to be killed with him."
"But
Cimorene, you know perfectly well—" The-
randil
started.
"You
hush," Cimorene said. "You've made
enough
of a mess already."
"If
he is not thy paramour, nor any of those other
things,
then what is he?" the jinn asked suspiciously.
"A
nuisance," Cimorene said succinctly.
"Cimorene,
you're not being very kind," Therandil
said.
"What
he is matters not," the jinn said grandly
after a
moment's heavy thought. "It is enough that thou
and he
shall die."
"Enough
for whom?" Cimorene said.
The
jinn blinked at her. "For me. 'Tis my will that
117
thou
and he shall die by my hand. Thou hast but to
choose
the manner of thy death."
"Old
age," Cimorene said promptly.
"Mock
me not! Thou and he shall die, and by my
hand,
ere this day draws to its close!" the jinn cried.
"Do
you suppose he means it?" Therandil said
nervously.
"Why
would he keep bellowing it at us if he didn't
mean
it?" Cimorene said. "Do be quiet, Therandil."
Therandil
lowered his voice. "Should I offer to fight
him, do
you think?"
"Don't
be silly," Cimorene said. She saw that The-
randil
was distressed, so she added, "You came up here
to
fight a dragon. You aren't prepared for a jinn, and
nobody
could reasonably expect you to challenge him."
"If
you say so," Therandil said, looking relieved.
Cimorene
turned back to the jinn and saw that he,
too,
was looking perturbed. "What's the matter with
you?"
she said crossly.
"Dost
thou not wish to know why I will kill thee?"
the
jinn asked plaintively.
"What
difference does it make?" Cimorene said.
"Yes,
actually," Therandil said at the same time.
"Therandil!"
Cimorene said in exasperation. "Shut
up!"
"Hear
my story, 0 luckless pair!" the jinn said with
evident
relief. "I am one of those jinn who did rebel
against
the law of our kind, and for my crimes I was
sentenced
to imprisonment in this bottle until the day
should
come when human hands would loose me. As
is the
custom of my people, I swore that whoso should
118
release
me during the first hundred years of my im-
prisonment
I would make ruler of the earth; whoso
should
release me during the second hundred years I
should
make rich beyond all dreams of men; whoso
shall
release me during the third hundred I should
grant
three wishes; and whoso should release me after
any
longer span of time I should grant only the choice
of what
death he would die."
"You're
going to kill us because ifs traditional?"
Cimorene
asked.
"Yes,"
the jinn said. His eyes slid away from Cim-
orene's,
and she frowned suddenly.
"Just
how long were you in that jar?" she de-
manded.
"Uh,
well, actually .. ." The jinn's voice trailed off.
"How
long?" Cimorene insisted.
"Two
hundred and seventeen years," the jinn ad-
mitted.
"But nobody ever releases a jinn before the three
hundred
years are over."
"You're
trying to get around your oath!" Therandil
said,
plainly shocked by the very thought. "You pre-
tended
you had to kill us so you wouldn't have to give
us the
wishes!"
"No!"
the jinn said. "Thinkest thou that the grant-
ing of
wishes alone would so trouble me? Needs must
I kill
thee and thy fair companion, for I cannot return
home
and say that thou didst release me and I left thee
living!
I would be a laughingstock. Never in three thou-
sand years
has such a thing occurred!"
"Then
you shouldn't have sworn an oath," The-
randil
said sternly.
"9
"I
had to!" the jinn said miserably. "It is the custom
of our
kind. Twould be ... 'twould be ..."
"Improper?"
Cimorene murmured.
"
Twould be improper to do otherwise," the jinn
said,
nodding. "But now thou hast found me out, and
what am
I to do? If I kill thee, it will violate my oath;
if I
kill thee not, the remainder of my life will be a
torment."
"You
could go back in the jar for another eighty-
three
years," Cimorene suggested delicately.
"I
could ... go back?" The jinn blinked at her for
a
moment. "\ could go back. I could go back!"
"And
in eighty-three years we'll both be dead of
old
age," Cimorene said. "Since that was my choice of
death,
your oath will be fulfilled and you can go straight
home
without killing anyone else or giving mem any
riches
or power or anything."
'Truly,
thou art a jewel among women and the
very
Queen of Wisdom's daughters!" the jinn said hap-
pily.
"Thou hast found the perfect solution to my
difficulties!"
"Wait
a minute!" Therandil said. "What about
those
wishes?"
"Therandil!"
Cimorene said in a shocked tone.
"I'm
surprised at you! How can he give us wishes if
he's
going back in the jar for eighty-three years? It
wouldn't
be right at all."
Therandil
frowned. "Are you sure? After all, we
did let
him out during his third hundred years."
"I
suppose I could let thee have one wish at least,
in
token of my thanks for thy help," the jinn said. "As
long as
thou dost not tell anyone."
120
"I
wouldn't dream of tt," Therandil assured him.
"And
my wish is to defeat a dragon and win his prin-
cess's
hand in marriage!"
The
jinn waved a dark hand over Therandil's head.
"There!
When next thou dost fight a dragon, thou shalt
surely
defeat him. And thou?" he said, turning to
Cimorene.
"I
could use some powdered hens' teeth," Cimo-
rene
said.
The
jinn blinked in surprise, but he waved his hand
again,
his face a mask of concentration. Then he bowed
and
handed Cimorene a fat brown jar. "There's thy
desire.
Farewell!" With an elaborate salaam, the jinn
dissolved
back into a cloud of smoke that poured back
into
the copper jar from which it had come. Cimorene
leaned
over and plucked the lead stopper from the end
of
Therandil's knife. She jammed it back into place and
heaved
a sigh of relief.
Therandil
was not paying attention. "What did you
want
something like that for?" he asked, looking at the
jar of
hens' teeth and wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"I
don't believe I shall tell you," Cimorene said,
putting
the jar carefully into one of her apron pockets.
"It
has nothing to do with you."
"Nothing
to do with me? I like that!" Therandil
said
indignantly. "I'm going to marry you, just as soon
as I
beat that dragon of yours."
"I
don't think you're going to beat Kazul," Cim-
orene
said in a considering tone.
"But
that jinn just said—"
"He
said that if you fight a dragon, you'll defeat
him.
But Kazul is a her, not a him," Cimorene pointed
121
out.
"And you ought not to be trying to rescue me
anyway."
"Why
not?" Therandil asked truculently.
"Because
there are other princesses who've been
captives
of dragons for much longer than I have, and
they
have seniority/' Cimorene explained.
"Oh,"
said Therandil, looking considerably taken
aback.
"How do you know?"
"They
came to visit and told me all about it," Cim-
orene
said. "I think you should try for Keredwel. She's
from
the Kingdom of Raxwel, and her hair is the color
of
sun-ripened wheat, and she wears a gold crown set
with
diamonds. You ought to get along with her very
well."
Therandil
brightened perceptibly at this description
but
said, "But everyone expects me to rescue you."
"As
long as you defeat a dragon and rescue a prin-
cess,
no one will care," Cimorene said firmly. "And
Keredwel
will suit you much better than I would."
"Are
you sure her dragon isn't female, too?"
"Positive,"
Cimorene said. "Gomul's cave is two
down
and three over. If you follow the path outside,
you
can't miss it. He ought to be there now, and if you
leave
right away, you'll be able to get everything settled
before
dinner."
"All
right, then," Therandil said. "As long as
you're
sure you don't mind."
"Not
at all," Cimorene assured him fervently. She
saw him
to the mouth of the cave and pointed him
toward
Gomul's cave, then returned to the kitchen.
She
gathered up the jars and bottles she had been
222
planning
to check, except for the copper jar with the
* -
.1 1. 1
>1 1 tt^i!__«-_ _ 1i
inside,
and took them back to the treasure vault.
jinn
Then
she fetched an ink pot, a quill pen, and a sheet
of
paper from the library and began writing out a warn-
ing to
attach to the copper jar. She didn't want anyone
else to
open it until the eighty-three years were over
and the
jinn could go home without killing anyone.
She was
just finishing when she heard Alianora's
voice calling
from the rear of the cave. "I'm in the
kitchen!"
she shouted. "Come on back!"
"You're
always in the kitchen," Ahanora said when
she
poked her head through the door a moment later.
"Or
the library. Don't you ever do anything but cook
and
read?"
"Look
at this, Alianora," Cimorene said, handing
her the
warning she had been writing. "Do you think
it's
dear enough?"
"
'WARNING: This jar contains a jinn who will kill
you if
you let him out too soon. Do not open until at
least
one hundred and five years after the date when
the
Citadel of the Yellow Giant was destroyed,' " Al-
ianora
read aloud. "That's, lefs see, eighty-four years
from
now. It seems clear to me. You'd have to be pretty
stupid
to ignore a warning like that."
"Maybe
I ought to show it to Hallanna and see
what
she says," Cimorene said, frowning. "I wouldn't
want
anyone getting into trouble by accident, just be-
cause I
didn't make it plain."
"It's
plain, ifs plain," Alianora said. "Cimorene,
what on
earth have you been doing? How do you know
there's
a jinn in this bottle?"
"Therandil,"
Cimorene said, waving a hand ex-
pressively.
"I was looking through some of the bottles
from
Kazul's treasure room, to see if any of them hap-
pened
to have hens' teeth in them, and Therandil came
in and
wanted to help."
"And
he opened it?" Alianora said. "Oh, dear."
"Exactly,"
said Cimorene. "But it came out well in
the
end. I think I've gotten rid of him for good. I sent
him off
to rescue Keredwel."
"You
did? What if he doesn't beat Gomul?"
"Oh,
he'll win. The jinn gave him a wish, and he
wished
to defeat a dragon." Cimorene looked apolo-
getically
at Alianora. "I suppose I ought to have sent
him to
rescue you, but ..."
"That's
quite all right," Alianora said hastily. "Get-
ting
rid of Keredwel will help a lot. And after every-
thing
you've told me about Therandil, I don't think I'd
want to
have him rescue me."
"Thafs
what I thought," Cimorene said. "Oh, and
I got
the jinn to give me some powdered hens' teeth,
so we
can finally try that fireproofing spell."
"Good,"
Alianora said. "Let's do it right now!"
So
Cimorene got out the spell and the ingredients
she had
collected, and she and Alianora spent the next
hour on
various necessary preparations. First they had
to boil
some unicorn water and steep the dried wolfs-
bane in
it. Then the mixture had to be strained and
mixed
with the hippopotamus oil and the powdered
hens'
teeth. Cimorene did most of that, while Alianora
ground
up the blue rose leaves and the piece of ebony.
Grinding
the ebony took a long time, but fortu-
nately
they didn't need much. When Alianora finally
124
had
enough, Cimorene mixed it with the blue rose
leaves
and more of the unicorn water in one of Kazul's
iccently
shed scales. Each mixture had to be stirred
three
times counterclockwise with a white eagle feather.
Then
Alianora dipped the point of her feather in her
mixture
and began drawing a star on the floor of the
cave.
"Is
this going to be big enough for both of us?"
she
asked, scratching busily at the stone with the tip
of the
feather.
"I
think so," Cimorene answered. "Don't try to
make it
too big, or you'll run out of liquid and we'll
have to
start over."
Alianora
did not run out, though she had used
nearly
all her mixture by the time she finished. "There!"
she
said. She sat back on her heels and studied her
diagram
to make sure there were no gaps, then set her
dragon
scale and feather aside and stood up. "Your
turn."
"First
we have to get into the center of the star,"
Cimorene
reminded her. "Be careful not to smudge the
lines!"
"Smudge
them, after all that work?" Alianora said
in
tones of mock horror. She lifted her skirts and
stepped
carefully into the middle of the diagram. Cim-
orene
followed, carrying a small mixing bowl half full
of
something that looked like brown sludge with a
white
eagle feather sticking out of one side. "It smells
awful,"
Alianora said, grimacing.
"It
doesn't matter what it smells like, as long as
me
spell works," Cimorene said. "Ready?"
"As
ready as I'm ever going to be," Alianora re-
125
plied,
shutting her eyes and screwing up her face as if
she
expected to have a glass of cold water poured over
her
head.
Cimorene
plucked the eagle feather out of the bowl
and
raised it quickly over Alianora's head before it
could
drip on the floor. She let four large drops of the
brown
gunk fall onto Alianora's hair, then brushed the
end of
the feather across her forehead twice. She fin-
ished
by drawing a circle with the feather on the palm
of
Alianora's left hand.
"That
tickles!" Alianora complained.
"Well,
you can do it to me now," Cimorene said.
Alianora
took the bowl and feather from Cimorene.
"You're
right," Cimorene said a moment later. "It
does
tickle."
"Now
what?" Alianora said.
"Set
the bowl down and shut your eyes," Cim-
orene
instructed. When Alianora had done so, Cimorene
closed
her own eyes and said:
"Power
of water, wind and earth,
Turn
the fire back to its birth.
Raise
the spell to shield the flame
By the
power that we have tamed."
"Oh!"
said Alianora. "That feels peculiar. Can I
open my
eyes now?"
"Yes,"
said Cimorene, opening her own. "We're
finished."
"Did
it work?" Alianora asked, cautiously opening
one eye
and squinting at Cimorene.
126
"Well,
something happened. We both felt it," Cim-
orene
said. "And your hair and forehead don't have
brown
gunk on them any more."
Alianora
promptly opened both eyes and studied
Cimorene.
"Neither do yours. What does that mean?"
"It
means we go back to the kitchen and test it,"
Cimorene
said. She bent over and picked up the mixing
bowl.
"We'll clean up later. Come on."
127
10
In
Which Cimorene and Alianora Conduct
Some
Tests and Disturb a Wizard
B,
^ack in
the kitchen, Cimorene and Alianora quickly
determined
that the fireproofing spell had indeed
worked.
First Cimorene, then Alianora tossed a pinch
of
feverfew into the air and recited the spell-verse, then
put a
hand into a candle flame and held it there. Neither
was
burned at all, though Alianora claimed that the
candle
tickled almost as much as the eagle feather had
done.
"How
long does the spell last?" Alianora asked.
"I'm
not sure, exactly," Cimorene said. "At least
an
hour, but I'll have to do some tests to pin it down
beyond
that. I hope Kazul gets back soon. I want to
see if
it works with dragon fire."
128
"You're
going to have Kazul breathe fire at you,
just to
see if the spell works?" Alianora said, horrified.
"What
if it doesn't?"
"Then
I'll talk to Kazul, and we'll go see Morwen,
and the
three of us will try to figure out what to change
to make
the spell work for dragon fire, too. Don't look
at me
like that. I'm not going to stand in front of Kazul
and
have her breathe fire at me. I'll just stick out a
finger,
the way we did with the candle."
This
was not enough to convince Alianora, but
Cimorene
was determined. "The whole point of trying
this
spell was to make ourselves immune to dragon
fire,"
she said. "If it doesn't work, I don't want to find
out for
the first time when one of Kazul's guests gets
mad and
breathes fire at me because he doesn't like
the way
I cooked his cherries jubilee."
Alianora
had to admit that this was a good point,
but she
was still disposed to argue. The discussion was
cut
short by Kazul's return. At first the dragon was
more
inclined to agree with Alianora than with Cim-
orene,
but after Cimorene proved her invulnerability to
candle
flames, lighted torches, and the fire she had
built
in the kitchen stove, Kazul agreed to the trial. She
insisted,
however, on working up to full firepower in
gradual
stages, and Cimorene was forced to agree.
Before
they began, Cimorene threw another pinch
of feverfew
into the air and recited the couplet again,
just to
be sure the spell wouldn't wear off in the middle
of the
test. Then Kazul lowered her head nearly to the
ground,
and Alianora watched nervously as Cimorene
lowered
her hand slowly into various intensities of
129
dragon
flame. Finally, Cimorene stood right in front of
Kazul
while the dragon breathed her hottest. The spell
worked
perfectly every time.
"There!"
Cimorene said when Kazul stopped at
last.
"Now we know it works. Aren't you glad?"
"I'm
glad," Alianora said fervently. "And I hope
I never
have to watch anything like that again as long
as I
live. I didn't dare blink for fear you'd go up in
smoke
while my eyes were closed."
"Why
don't you try it yourself?" Cimorene said
mischievously.
"No!"
said Alianora and Kazul together.
"Watching
you was bad enough," Alianora went
on with
a shudder. "I believe it works. I don't see any
reason
for me to test it."
"Besides,
I've done more than enough fire-breath-
ing for
one day," Kazul added. "I'm starting to get
overheated."
"All
right, if you don't want to, you don't have
to,"
Cimorene said. "If we're all done, I'd better go
tidy
up."
Alianora
stayed to help Cimorene finish cleaning
up the
traces of the spell, by which time she had calmed
down
considerably and was very nearly her usual self
again.
Cimorene gave her a pouchful of dried feverfew
before
she left and made her recite the words that ac-
tivated
the spell several times, to make sure she had
memorized
them correctly.
"Remember,
you only have to repeat the first half
of the
verse to get the spell going, now that it's been
set
up," Cimorene said. "Can you do it?"
130
"It's
only two lines, and they rhyme!" Alianora
said,
laughing. "How could I forget that? My memory
isn't
that bad!"
"Maybe
not, but say it anyway," Cimorene said.
Alianora
laughed again and did so. At last she set off
into
the tunnels/ and Cimorene went back to the main
cave to
see what Kazul and Roxim had found out about
the
Caves of Fire and Night.
Kazul
was somewhat out of temper, and Cimorene
thought
privately that she had been telling the truth
about
getting overheated. Rather than annoy the
dragon
further, Cimorene asked if she could read the
book
Kazul had borrowed from Morwen.
"It's
in the treasure room," Kazul said. "Read it
there.
And I hope you see something in it that we
didn't."
Cimorene
nodded, picked up her lamp, and hur-
ried
off before Kazul could change her mind. The book
was
lying near a pile of sapphires, next to an ornate
gold
crown. She picked it up, went over to the table,
which
was large and very sturdy because it was in-
tended
for counting piles of gold and silver coins, and
sat
down to read.
It was
even dryer and duller than Kazul had said.
There
were a great many "mayhaps" and "perchances"
and
"wherefores," strung together in long, involved
sentences
that compared the strange and wonderful
things
in the caves to obscure philosophical ideas and
odd
customs from places Cimorene had never heard
of.
After a few pages, Cimorene put the book down
and
went and got a quill pen, an ink pot, and some
131
paper,
so that she could write down the things she
thought
were important. She didn't want to have to
read A
Journey Through the Caves of Fire and Night more
than
once.
For the
next three days, Cimorene spent bits of her
spare
time in the treasure room, taking notes on the
DeMontmorency.
It took her that long because she
could
never manage to read for more than a little while
without
getting so bored that she nearly fell asleep. Her
persistence
gained her several pages of notes about the
caves,
but nothing that seemed as if it might be of
particular
interest to wizards.
Alianora
came to see her a few days later, looking
very
cheerful.
"It
worked!" she announced as she came into the
library
where Cimorene was going over her notes.
"Keredwel's
gone. Therandil rescued her, just the way
you
said he would."
"Good,"
Cimorene said. "I'm glad something is
going
right."
"What's
the problem?" Alianora asked, seating
herself
on the other side of the table from Cimorene.
"This,"
Cimorene said, waving at the paper-
covered
table. "Kazul is sure that the key to what the
wizards
are after is somewhere in that dratted book she
borrowed
from Morwen. I copied out everything that
looked
interesting, but none of it seems like anything
a
wizard would care about."
"How
do you know that?" Alianora asked curi-
ously.
132
"I
don't," Cimorene said. "I'm just guessing.
Thafs
the problem."
"Oh."
Alianora picked up the sheet of paper near-
est her
and frowned at it. "What on earth does this
mean?"
Cimorene
looked at the page Alianora was holding.
"
Thus these Caves of Fire and Night are, in some
sense,
indivisible, whereas the Caves of Chance are,
by
contrast, individual, though it is preposterous to
claim
that these descriptions are true of either group
of
caves in their entirety . . .' That's one of the bits I
copied
word for word; the whole book is like that. I
think
it means that if you have a piece of something
magical
from the Caves of Fire and Night, you can use
it in a
spell as if it were the whole thing."
"I
can see why you wouldn't be sure," Alianora
said.
"Do you think it would help you figure things
out if
you stopped for a while?"
"I
have stopped," Cimorene pointed out. "Or did
you
have something more specific in mind?"
"I'm
almost out of feverfew," Alianora said, look-
ing
down at the table. "I was hoping you'd come with
me to
pick some more."
"You're
almost out?" Cimorene said in surprise.
"How
did that happen?"
Alianora
shifted uncomfortably. "I've been work-
ing
that fireproofing spell every hour or so for the past
two
days," she admitted. "Woraug has been getting
more
and more unpredictable, and I don't feel com-
fortable
otherwise. Hallanna was visiting yesterday
when he
came in—in the middle of the afternoon!—
133
and he
was roaring and dripping little bits of flame
when he
breathed. She was terrified, and I don't blame
her. If
it weren't for the spell, I'd be scared to death."
"What's
the matter with him?"
"I
don't know. He doesn't tell me anything about
dragon
politics or wizards or what he's been getting so
worked
up about. He's not like Kazul."
Cimorene
frowned, considering. "Maybe Kazul
will
have some idea what's bothering him. I'll ask her
this
evening. In the meantime, let's go get that fever-
few.
You're right to say that I could use a break."
"Oh,
good," said Alianora in tones of considerable
relief.
"I've never picked herbs before, and I'm not sure
what
feverfew looks like. I don't know what I'd have
done if
you'd said you wouldn't come."
Cimorene
put her notes away and got two wicker
baskets
and a small knife from one of the storage rooms
"Up
or down?" Alianora asked as they left the cave.
"Up,"
Cimorene said. "The other way is the ledgp
I told
you about, and I wouldn't be surprised if bits of
it are
still invisible."
The
path through the Pass of Silver Ice twisted and
turned
past the openings of other dragons' caves. Mosi
of the
rocks around the caves had scorch marks, and
Cimorene
and Alianora didn't see much growinp
among
them.
"At
this rate, we'll have to go nearly all the way
to the
Enchanted Forest to find any grass, much less
herbs!"
Alianora complained.
"Wait
a minute!" Cimorene said. "Look over there,
134
through
that crack in the rocks. Doesn't that look like
something
green?"
Alianora's
eyes followed Cimorene's pointing fin-
ger.
"Yes," she said without enthusiasm. "It looks
green."
The
rock Cimorene had indicated was a large boul-
der at
the bottom of a steep slope. The slope was cov-
ered
with gravel and looked as if it would be impossible
to
climb down without skinning a knee or an elbow at
the
very least. The boulder itself was in two pieces,
with
just enough space between them for someone to
squeeze
through, provided the someone was not very
large.
"Come
on, let's get a better look," said Cimorene.
She walked
to the edge of the slope and wrapped her
skirts
tightly around her legs. Then she sat down with
her
basket in her lap and slid down the slope, raising
an
enormous cloud of dust and sounding like an ava-
lanche
in process. She reached the bottom in safety and
stood
up, brushing at her skirt. The dust was so thick
that
she could hardly see, and when she tried to call
to
Alianora, she coughed so hard that she could barely
speak.
"Cimorene!
Are you all right?"
"It's
just the dust," Cimorene said in a muffled
voice.
She had taken out her handkerchief and put it
over
her mouth and nose to keep the dust out. It wasn't
perfect,
but it helped a great deal. "Come on, ifs your
turn."
"Are
you sure we shouldn't just go around?"
"Stop
stalling. It's not that bad."
i35
.£•
"That's
what you say," Alianora muttered, but she
wrapped
her skirts around her, clutched her basket,
and
slid down the slope. She made even more noise
than
Cimorene had. When she got to the bottom, she
was
coughing and choking. Cimorene handed her the
handkerchief,
and they waited for a moment while the
dust
settled.
Crawling
through the split boulder was easier than
they
expected. The crevice was wider than it had looked
from
the path, and the bottom of the crack was so full of
dust
and gravel and dead leaves that it was almost flat.
Cimorene
and Alianora had to walk single file, and there
were
one or two spots where they had to turn sideways
in
order to get through, but it was not really difficult.
On the
other side of the boulder, the two girls
found a
lush, green valley. It was bowl-shaped and not
very
large, but flowers and grasses stood waist-high
between
the random clumps of bushes that dotted the
valley
floor. A squirrel, which had been sunning itself
on a
ledge near the entrance, leaped for a small tree as
Cimorene
and Alianora appeared.
"My
goodness!" Alianora said, looking around
with
wide eyes. "This place looks as if no one but us
has
ever been here before. There aren't even any scorch
marks
on the rocks."
Cimorene
blinked. Alianora was right. Lichens cov-
ered
the weathered gray rocks that rose above the val
ley,
and small plants grew in cracks and crevices thel
showed
no sign of the touch of dragon fire.
"That's
odd," Cimorene commented.
"Why?"
Alianora asked.
136
"Those
mountains aren't tall enough to keep drag-
ons
from flying over, and they're right in the middle
of the
dragons' territory. So why haven't the dragons
been
here? They usually keep a dose eye on everything
that
belongs to them."
"Maybe
they have been here, but they never found
anything
to breathe fire at," Alianora said.
"Well,
I'm going to ask Kazul about it when I get
back,"
Cimorene said as she waded into the grass.
"Why
don't you take that side, and I'll look over here?
We'll
cover more ground that way."
"First
you'd better show me what I'm looking for,"
Alianora
said apologetically. "I'm afraid I couldn't tell
feverfew
from carrots if there was a dragon chasing me
and my
life depended on it."
Cimorene
nodded, and they started off. They had
not
gone far when she saw a patch of the white button-
shaped
flowers she was looking for. "Here," she said,
showing
them to Alianora. "This is feverfew. The
younger
plants are the best, the ones that haven't blos-
somed
yet."
Alianora
studied the leaves and flowers with care.
"I
think I'll recognize it now."
They
cut some of the plants, leaving those that
were
blooming.
"You
find the next patch," Cimorene said as they
started
off again.
"Lefs
try over there," Alianora said, pointing.
They
found several more patches of feverfew, and
gradually
their baskets began to fill. "I think this should
be
enough," Cimorene said at last. "Unless you think—"
"Cimorene!"
Alianora hissed, clutching at Cim-
orene's
arm. "There's someone behind that bush!" f
Cimorene
turned. A dark line snaked through the
'X;
grass
where something large had bent and broken the
' %
plants
in passing. "You're right," she said, and started ' *.
forward, i
^
» . ^P
Alianora
hung back, still holding Cimorene's arm.
3|
"You're
not going to go look, are you?" ' ^
"How
else are we going to find out who it is?" i
Cimorene
asked reasonably. She shook off Alianora's
?
hand.
Quietly, she walked over to the clump of bushes | ^
and
peered around it. Alianora followed with evident •"
, ^
reluctance. *
A man
in blue and brown silk robes was crouched
j /
on the
other side of the bush with his back toward
j §
Cimorene.
He was stuffing saw-edged purple leaves
»,
into a
small linen bag the size of Cimorene's hand. His
hair
was brown, and on the ground beside him lay a
long,
polished staff.
"Antorell?"
Cimorene said in surprise.
The man
snatched up his staff and straightened as
if a
bee had just stung him. It was indeed Antorell,
and he
did not look at all pleased to see her. He stuffed
the
linen bag quickly into his sleeve and said, "P-prin-
cess
Cimorene! What brings you here?"
"I
was about to ask you the same thing," Cimorene
said.
"Wizards
go where they wish, answering to no
one,"
Antorell said, waving his free hand in a lofty
manner.
"Maybe
outside the Mountains of Morning they
138
do, but
around here they have to check with the drag-
ons
first," Cimorene said.
"You
know nothing of the matter," Antorell said,
looking
very put out.
"Cimorene
. . ." Alianora's tone was doubtful.
"You
know this person?
"I'm
sorry; I should have introduced you. This is
Antorell,
one of the wizards I told you about. Antorell,
this is
Princess Alianora of the Duchy of Toure-on-
Marsh.
At the moment, she's the princess of the dragon
Woraug."
Alianora
curtsied, murmuring something polite
and
inaudible. Antorell, who had stiffened in surprise
when he
realized that Cimorene was not alone, relaxed
visibly.
"Woraug's princess? That's all right, then.
Though
he really shouldn't have sent you."
"But
Woraug didn't—ow!" said Alianora. The
"ow"
was because Cimorene had hastily kicked her
ankle
to keep her from telling Antorell too much.
"Didn't
what?" Antorell asked, frowning suspi-
ciously.
"Didn't
know you were going to be here," Cim-
orene
said.
"Well,
of course he didn't know!" Antorell said,
looking
annoyed. "That's the whole point, after all."
Cimorene
would have very much liked to ask him
what
the point was, but she was afraid it would make
him
suspidous again. "I don't understand," she said
instead,
batting her eyes at him.
"Of
course not," Antorell replied in a condescend-
139
ing
tone that made Cimorene's teeth hurt. "But it
doesn't
matter. I'm not annoyed with you."
"I'm
so glad/' Cimorene murmured.
Antorell
gave her an oily smile. "In fact, there's no
need
for you to tell Woraug that you met me here."
"I
wouldn't dream of it," Cimorene said with per-
fect
truth.
"Excellent,"
Antorell said. "Then may I escort the
two of
you back to the path?"
Alianora
looked hopefully in Cimorene's direction.
"But
we can't leave yet," Cimorene said, opening
her
eyes very wide. "We haven't picked any cornflow-
ers or
daisies." Behind her, she heard Alianora making
a
smothered, choking noise, as if she were trying very
hard
not to laugh.
"Daisies,"
Antorell said in a flat, incredulous tone
"You
want to stay and pick daisies?"
Cimorene
nodded vigorously. "And cornflowers,
and
flax, and all sorts of things," she said, waving her
hand at
the flowers blooming all around. "They'll look
so
pretty in a bowl of water in the kitchen."
"I'm
sure you're right," Antorell said. He looked
as if
he would have liked to object, but couldn't think
of
anything to object to. "Perhaps I could help you?"
he said
reluctantly.
"Oh,
we wouldn't dream of keeping you," Cim-
orene
said.
Antorell
was clearly reluctant to leave the two girls
in the
valley, but Cimorene did not give him much
choice.
After another minute or so of conversation, the
wizard
was forced to go. He did not use a vanishing
spell
but trudged away on foot. Cimorene watched him
140
until
he was out of sight among the bushes, wondering
whether
he had some spedal reason not to use spells
in the
valley or whether he simply didn't know the
right
spells to make himself vanish.
"Thafs
a relief!" Alianora said. "Why did you in-
sist on
staying when it was so obvious that he wanted
us to
leave? I was afraid he was going to turn us into
toads
or something."
"I
wanted to see what he was up to/' Cimorene
said.
"And I don't think Antorell is a very good wizard.
He
probably couldn't manage anything worse than a
squirrel."
Alianora
did not appear to find this very reassur-
ing.
Cimorene checked to make sure Antorell was out
of
sight, then went over to the place where he had been
standing
when she peered around the bush. At first
she did
not notice anything unusual. Then she saw a
purplish
plant oozing sap from the places where several
of its
spiky, saw-toothed leaves had been broken off.
"Look
at this."
"What
is it?" Alianora asked.
"I
don't know," Cimorene said absently. "I saw a
couple
of other plants like this while we were picking
feverfew,
but I thought they were just weeds."
"Maybe
it is a weed."
"A
wizard wouldn't sneak into the dragons' section
of the
Mountains of Morning just to pick weeds. They
don't
even use herbs to cast spells, so what does An-
torell
want with this prickly looking thing?"
Alianora
shrugged. "Maybe he needs it for some-
thing
he can't do with magic."
"I
wonder what that would be?" Cimorene reached
141
out and
carefully broke off a spray of leaves. She
wrapped
them in her handkerchief and put the packet
in her
pocket. "Let's see if we can find out whether he
picked
anything else."
Antorell
had left a dark trail of bent and broken
plants
to mark the way he had come, so his path was
easy to
follow. Cimorene and Alianora searched care-
fully
along it for some way, looking for signs that the
wizard
had picked other herbs, but neither of them saw
any.
"I
don't think there's anything to find," Alianora
said,
pushing her apricot-colored hair out of her face.
"And
it's getting awfully warm."
"Have
you noticed that there aren't any of those
purple
plants along here?" Cimorene said. "I'll bet that
was all
he wanted."
"Then
let's leave before that wizard thinks to circle
around
to check on what we're doing," Alianora urged.
Cimorene
doubted that Antorell would think of
doing
such a thing, but she nodded agreement, and
the two
girls left the valley. Alianora was quiet and
thoughtful
for most of the walk back to Kazul's cave.
Cimorene
was grateful for her silence. She had a lot to
think
about herself. From what Antorell had said, it
seemed
likely that Woraug was helping the wizards
somehow,
or at least that he had known what Antorell
was
looking for in the little valley. Cimorene found it
difficult
to imagine a dragon helping a wizard, but she
couldn't
say with certainty that it was impossible. And
if
Woraug was involved with Antorell and Zemenar, it
might
explain why he had been so touchy lately.
142
When
they arrived back at the cave, Cimorene shook
herself
free of her preoccupation. She and Alianora
unloaded
their baskets and tied the herbs in bunches
to hang
in a dark comer of the kitchen to dry.
"How
long will it be before I can use the feverfew?"
Alianora
asked worriedly.
"I'm
not sure," Cimorene said in a considering
tone.
"It will take at least a week to dry thoroughly,
but you
might be able to use it in the spell before then.
The
directions don't say how dry the feverfew has to
be. We
could try it every day with a pinch of leaves
from
one of these bunches if you like."
Alianora
nodded. "I really do need it."
"I
wonder if it would work without being dried?"
Cimorene
said. She pulled a leaf from one of the hang-
ing
plants and shredded it carefully between her fin-
gers,
then tossed it up in the air and recited the rhyme.
"There!
Now, light a candle or another lamp or
something."
Alianora
had already lit a candle and set it on the
table.
Cimorene moved over and stuck her finger in
the
flame.
"I
think ifs working," she said, and moved the
rest of
her hand closer.
The
sleeve of her dress caught fire. Cimorene has-
tily
pulled her hand away from the candle and slapped at
the
flames, while Alianora snatched up a bucket of water
from
beside the sink and poured it over Cimorene's arm.
The
fire went out and so did the candle, and both Cim-
orene
and Alianora got thoroughly soaked.
"Oh,
dear!" Alianora said, ignoring her soggy
skirts.
"Cimorene, did you burn yourself?"
"No,"
Cimorene said, looking at her arm with a
puzzled
expression. "I didn't feel a thing. I thought the
spell
worked, but nothing caught fire when we tested
it
before."
"It
must be because the fevenew is fresh instead
of
dried. And I had hoped that I'd be able to use it right
away!"
"If
you're that low on dried feverfew, take some
of
mine," Cimorene offered. "Kazul's not particularly
irritable.
I only need to keep a pinch or two in case of
emergencies."
"Thank
you!" Alianora said fervently, and Cim-
orene
turned her soggy cuffs back and went to get the
bottled
spices.
144
11
In
Which Kazul Is Unwell, and Cimorene
Makes a
New Acquaintance
Zllianora
decided to return home by way of the path
outside
instead of through the tunnels because it was
such a
nice day and she hoped the sun would dry her
skirt.
Cimorene watched her go, swinging her basket
happily
and humming a little, her confidence and good
humor
completely restored by the possession of the fat
little
packet of dried feverfew in her pocket.
"I
wish I had as little to worry about," Cimorene
muttered,
thinking of Woraug and the wizards. She
held
the burned patch at the end of her sleeve up to
get a
better look at it in the sunlight and shook her
head.
Even the magic wardrobe would have a hard
time
fixing that. A puff of wind made her shiver in her
145
wet
clothes, and she turned to go back into the cav-
to
change.
A dark
shadow fell over Cimorene, and shr
stopped
and looked up. "Kazul!" she said as the dragon
landed
on the open path beside her. "Am I glad to se<i
you.
Wait until you hear what's been happening!"
"You
do appear to have had a rather strenuous
day,"
Kazul said, eyeing Cimorene's wet, stained skirt
and the
blackened end of her right sleeve. "Nothing
serious,
I trust?"
"I'm
not sure," Cimorene said. "Alianora and I
went
out to pick some feverfew, and we ran into that
wizard
Antorell."
"Where
was this?"
Cimorene
pointed. "Up that way. There's a little
round
valley off to one side that looks as if dragons
never
go there, and—"
"You
found a wizard there?" Kazul sounded deeply
disturbed.
"How did he get in? How did you get in?"
"We
climbed through a crack in a boulder," Cim-
orene
said. "I don't know how Antorell did it. Whe'^
he
left, he was heading for the far side of the valley "
"This
is serious," Kazul said, getting to her feet
'Td
better warn the King. He'll have to use the crystal
now."
"You'd
better hear the rest of it first," Cimorene
said.
"Antorell wasn't too happy to see us, but when
he
found out that Alianora was Woraug's princess, I-'?
relaxed.
He seemed to think that Woraug had sent us "
"What?"
Cimorene
involuntarily stepped back a pace at the
anger
in Kazul's voice. "He thought Woraug had sent
146
us,"
she repeated, and gave a quick summary of her
conversation
with Antorell.
"Woraug!"
Kazul's tail lashed, sweeping a small
boulder
from one side of the path to the other. "But
Woraug's
not a fool, and only a fool would let a wizard
into
that valley. Unless he was sure that they didn't
know .
. . What was Antorell doing?"
"Cutting
plants," Cimorene said. "Or rather, cut-
ting a
plant. It didn't look as if he took more than one."
"He
wouldn't need more than one, if it was the
right
one," Kazul said tensely. "What did he pick?"
"It
was a prickly looking purple thing, with saw-
edged
leaves," Cimorene said, reaching into her
pocket.
"I didn't recognize it, but I thought you might,
so I
brought a piece back for you to look—"
"What?"
Kazul roared.
Flame
spurted from the dragon's mouth, envel-
oping
Cimorene. Steam hissed from her wet skirt, and
the
thinner material of her sleeves vanished in a crackle
of
sparks. The handkerchief-wrapped spray of purple
leaves,
which she had just taken out of her pocket to
show
Kazul, disintegrated into a dark, greasy-looking
cloud
of smoke.
Cimorene
stared at the ashes in her palm, feeling
very,
very glad that she had decided to test the way
fresh
feverfew would work in the fireproofing spell.
She
felt a little warm, and her clothes had been reduced
to a
few charred rags, but that was nothing compared
to what
might have happened.
"Now
I understand why Alianora ran out of fe-
verfew,"
she muttered.
A puff
of wind brushed Cimorene's arms, and she
i47
heard a
choking sound from Kazul. She looked up,
expecting
to find the dragon laughing at her remark,
and her
eyes widened. Kazul's head was thrown back,
and her
mouth was wide open, giving Cimorene an
excellent
view of the dragon's sharp silver teeth and
long
red tongue. Cimorene skipped backward out of
reach;
then she realized that the dragon was gasping
for
air.
"Kazul!
What's the matter?"
"The
smoke!" Kazul coughed. Her voice was so
hoarse
that it was hard for Cimorene to understand
what
she was saving.
"What
can I do?" Cimorene said, trying not to feel
frightened.
"Green
jar—shelf in last treasure room," Kazul
managed
between coughs. "Hurry."
Cimorene
was already running through the mouth
of the
cave as fast as her feet could carry her. She did
not
even pause as she snatched up her lamp from the
floor
just inside the door. It seemed to take forever to
get
through the twisty passages and the first two caves
full of
treasure. She skidded to a halt in the doorway
of the
third room and stood panting, scanning the walls
for the
shelf and the right jar. She found it quickly and
ran
back at once, the jar clutched tightly in her right
hand.
The
sound of Kazul's coughing grew louder as
Cimorene
sped back the way she had come. At the
mouth
of the cave, Cimorene paused and set down the
lamp,
then unscrewed the top of the green jar. Inside
was a
thick, emerald-colored liquid about the consi&-
148
tency
of honey. She looked out at Kazul. The dragon's
head
jerked with each cough, and the scales on her
neck
were beginning to turn pink around the edges.
For a
long, careful moment Cimorene studied Kazul's
movements.
Then she leaned back and threw the em-
erald
liquid, jar and all, into the dragon's open mouth
just as
Kazul took another gasping breath.
The jar
landed on Kazul's tongue. The dragon's
mouth
dosed, and she swallowed convulsively. Sud-
den
silence descended.
"Are
you all right now?" Cimorene asked after
Kazul
had taken several deep breaths without a re-
newed
bout of coughing.
"I
will be," Kazul said. She sounded exhausted,
and her
movements as she slid into the cave were slow
and
uncertain.
"What
happened?" Cimorene said, backing out of
the way
so that Kazul would not have to exert herself
to go
around.
"I
got a breath of the smoke when the plant in
your
hand burned," Kazul said as she settled to the
floor
just inside the entrance. "Lucky it was only a
breath.
I'll need a few days of rest, but that's better
than
being dead."
Cimorene
stared at her, appalled. "What was that
plant?"
"Dragonsbane,"
said Kazul. Her eyes closed and
she
slept.
Kazul
continued to sleep for most of the next three
days.
She woke only long enough for Cimorene to pour
149
a
couple of gallons of warm milk mixed with honey
down
her throat from time to time before she lapsed
back
into unconsciousness. Cimorene was very wor-
ried,
but there wasn't much that she could do. Sick
dragons
are too large and heavy for normal nursing to
be of
much use.
On the
afternoon of the third day, Kazul woke up
completely
for the first time since her collapse.
"Thank
goodness!" said Cimorene as Kazul shook
her
head experimentally and sat up. "I was beginning
to
think you were going to sleep for a month."
"I
might have if I'd gotten more than a whiff of
that
smoke." Kazul stretched her neck in one direction
and her
tail in the other, trying to work out some of
the
kinks.
"If
I'd known it was so dangerous, I'd never have
brought
any of that purple plant back with me," Cim-
orene
apologized. "You might have done worse than
sleep
for a month. You might have—" She stopped,
unwilling
to complete the thought.
"I
might have died?" Kazul said. "Unlikely. If a
dragon
isn't killed outright by something in the first
five
minutes, recovery is only a matter of time. That
applies
as much to dragonsbane as to a knight's magic
sword."
"Then
why did you want that goo in the green
jar?"
Cimorene asked.
"The
antidote? I wanted it because I didn't like the
idea of
spending a month recuperating when I didn't
have
to. And since—" A fit of coughing interrupted
Kazul
in mid-sentence.
150
Cimorene
skipped backward out of the way.
Frowning
worriedly, she tossed a pinch of feverfew into
the air
and recited the verse from the fireproofing spell
in case
Kazul should lose control of her flame again.
"Maybe
you won't need a month to recover, but three
days
obviously isn't enough," she said to the dragon.
"You'd
better lie back down before you choke."
"I
can't," Kazul said. "I have to warn the King. If
the
wizards have had dragonsbane for three days al-
ready—"
She started coughing again and had to stop
talking.
"You
stay here," Cimorene said in a firm tone. "I'll
warn
the King."
"Tokoz
won't listen to you," Kazul said, but she
settled
back to the ground. "Roxim will, though. Start
with
him."
"Roxim?"
Cimorene said doubtfully. She was
afraid
the gray-green dragon would want to go charging
out
after the wizards as soon as he heard they were up
to
something.
"He'll
listen to you, and the King will listen to
him,"
Kazul said. "Ifs not ideal, but it's the best we
can
do."
"All
right, I'll go see Roxim. You stay here and
sleep."
"When
you get back—"
"I'll
wake you and tell you what he said," Cim-
orene
promised. "Now, go to sleep."
Kazul
smiled slightly and closed her eyes. Cim-
orene
caught up a lamp and almost ran to the exit at the
back of
the cave. She was afraid that Kazul would think
of
something else and start talking again, and she didn't
think
talking would be good for her.
In the
tunnel outside, Cimorene paused, trying to
remember
the directions to Roxim's cave. She had
memorized
a map in the library that showed most 01
the
twists and turns of the dragons' tunnels, but she
knew
from experience that in the miles of gray store
corridors
it was difficult to keep track of where she wa=
"Left,
left, fifth right, past the little chamber, rigl,?
again,
on past the iron gate, two lefts to the third cave
down,"
she muttered to herself. "I wish Roxim's cave
were
closer." Still muttering, she started off.
Though
she was being very careful, Cimorene had
to
backtrack twice during the first part of her trip when
a mistake
in counting corridors led her to a dead end.
When
she finally saw the iron gate that led into the
Caves
of Fire and Night, she sighed in relief. The tricky
part
was over, and the rest of the trip would be easy.
She
held her lamp up and quickened her step, hoping
to make
up some of the time she had lost on her de-
tours.
Then, as she reached the bars that blocked the
entrance
to the Caves of Fire and Night, she stopped
short.
There was someone sitting on the ground on the
other
side of the gate.
Cimorene
had almost missed seeing him, and no
wonder.
His clothes, though well cut, were the same
dark
gray as the stone of the tunnel walls, and he was
curled
into a lumpy, dejected ball. He looked like a
large
rock. If he hadn't moved his hand as she passed,
Cimorene
would never have realized he was alive.
The man
on the other side of the bars raised his
152
head,
and Cimorene saw with shock that his hair and
skin
were the same dark, even gray as his clothes. His
eves,
too, were gray, and their expression was apolo-
getic.
"Forgive
me for startling you," the man said,
climbing
ponderously to his feet. "I didn't see you com-
ine."
He made a stiff, formal bow.
"Who
are you?" Cimorene demanded. "And what
are you
doing in there?"
"I'm
a prince," the man said in a gloomy tone,
"and
I'm reaping the rewards of my folly."
"What
folly?"
The
prince sighed. "Ifs a long story."
"Somehow
they always seem to be long," Cim-
orene
said. "You haven't come to rescue me from the
dragons,
have you? Because if you have, I'm not going
to let
you out of there. I haven't got time to spend an
hour
arguing today."
"I
have no interest whatever in dragons, I assure
you,"
the prince said earnestly. "And if you would let
me out,
I'd be extremely grateful. Um, who are you,
by the
way?"
"Cimorene,
princess of the dragon Kazul," Cim-
orene
said. She studied the prince for a moment and
decided
that he looked trustworthy. "All right, I'll let
you
out. Turn around and put your fingers in your
ears."
"What?"
the prince said, looking considerably
startled.
"Ifs
part of the spell to open the gate," Cimorene
said.
She wasn't about to let him overhear the words
Kazul
had used to unlock the door, even if he did look
trustworthy.
The
prince shrugged and did as she directed.
Quickly,
Cimorene recited:
"By
night and flame and shining rock
Open
thou thy hidden lock.
Alberolingam!"
For an
instant nothing happened, and Cimorene
was
afraid she had not remembered the charm cor-
rectly.
Then the iron gate swung silently open. The
prince,
whose back was to the gate, did not notice.
Cimorene
touched his shoulder to get his attention, and
her
eyes widened.
"Oh!"
she said as he turned. "You're—you're
stone."
"I
know," the prince said. "Ifs part of that long
story I
mentioned earlier. I haven't gotten used to it
yet."
He stepped through the gate, and it closed noise-
lessly
behind him.
"I'm
afraid I don't have time to listen to stories
just
now," Cimorene said politely. "I have a rather
urgent
errand to run, so if you'll excuse me—"
"Can't
I come with you?"
Cimorene
stared at him. "Why do you want to do
that?"
The
stone prince looked down at his feet with an
embarrassed
expression. "Um, well, actually, I'm lost.
And you
seem to know your way around down here."
He
glanced hopefully at Cimorene's face, then sighed.
i54
"I
suppose I can just wander around some more. I'll
have to
find a way out eventually."
"You'll
run into a dragon and get eaten."
"I
don't think it will hurt stone," the prince said.
He
sounded almost cheerful, as if he had only just
realized
that being made of stone might have some
advantages.
"Maybe
not, but you're sure to give the dragon
indigestion,"
Cimorene said. "Bother! I don't have time
for
this!"
"I
could wait here if you're coming back this way,"
the
stone prince suggested.
Cimorene
brightened, then frowned and shook her
head.
"No, one of the dragons might need to get into
the
Caves of Fire and Night, or it might be the turn of
those
dratted wizards. You can't stay here."
"Then—"
"I
know! You can wait in the serving room, just
off the
banquet hall," Cimorene said. "It's close, there's
plenty
of room, and I know no one's using it today
because
I checked the schedule for Alianora yesterday.
I can
take a shortcut out the back to get to Roxim's
without
losing any more time. Come on."
"1
really appreciate this," the stone prince said as
they
started off. "You don't know what ifs like, being
lost in
the dark in these caves."
"How
did it happen?" Cimorene asked.
The
stone prince's expression became gloomy once
more.
"Ifs all that soothsayer's fault," he said.
"Soothsayer?"
"My
father didn't think it was appropriate to invite
i55
fairies
to a prince's christening, so he invited a sooth-
sayer
instead," the prince replied. "The soothsayer took
one
look at me and said that I would grow up to do a
great
service for a king. I've been stuck with his blasted
prophecy
ever since."
"It
doesn't sound so terrible to me," Cimorene
said.
"It
wasn't, at first," the stone prince admitted. "I
had
special tutors in all sorts of interesting things to
prepare
me for being of great service to a king. My
father
even sent me to a spedal school for people
who're
supposed to do spedal things."
"Did
you do well?"
"I
was the top of my class," the stone prince said
with a
flash of pride. His face fell again. "That's part
of the
problem."
"I
don't understand," Cimorene said. "This way.
And can
you walk a little faster, please? I'm in a hurry."
"It's
been three years since I graduated, and every-
one's
still waiting for me to do something spectacular,"
the
stone prince said, lengthening his stride. "The rest
of my
dassmates are already making names for them-
selves.
George started killing dragons right away, and
Art
went straight home and pulled some sort of magic
sword
out of a rock. Even the ones nobody expected
to
amount to much have done something. All Jack
wanted
to do was go back to his mother's farm and
raise
beans, and he ended up stealing a magic harp
and
killing a giant and all sorts of things. I'm the only
one who
hasn't succeeded."
"Why
not?"
The
stone prince sighed again. "I don't know. At
156
first
it seemed as if I wouldn't have any trouble finding
a king
to serve. Every time there was a war, both kings
asked
me to lead their armies, and every king for miles
around
who'd lost his throne to a usurper sent a mes-
senger
to my father's court. It should have been simple.
Only
they were always so worried about whether I was
going
to side with their enemies that it was easier not
to pick
anyone."
"I
see," said Cimorene. Privately she thought that
the
stone prince had been rather wishy-washy.
Some of
her opinion must have crept into her tone
because
the stone prince nodded glumly. "You're right.
It was
a mistake. As long as I didn't pick a king to
serve,
all the messengers and ambassadors and envoys
stayed,
hoping to persuade me. The inns around (he
castle
were stuffed with them. It got to the point where
I
couldn't show my face without at least three of them
pouncing
on me.
"Finally
I couldn't stand it any more, and I ran
away.
It was a relief at first, not having everyone hov-
ering
over me waiting for me to do something great.
But
after a while I started feeling uncomfortable. Then
I
realized that even if nobody around me expected me
to do
anything spedal in the service of a king, I ex-
pected
me to do something.
"I
was so flustered that I ran up to the next palace
I saw
and asked whether the king needed any services
done.
It turned out that he was ill, and his doctors had
told
him that the only thing that would cure him was
a drink
of the Water of Healing from the Caves of Fire
and
Night. So I left to get it at once."
"So
thafs what you were doing!" Cimorene said.
i57
The
stone prince gave her another gloomy nod. "I
should
have known better. That king had three sons,
and the
first two had already gone off to get the water
and
failed. Anyone with sense would have seen that
the
youngest son was the one who would succeed; it
sticks
out all over. But I was too eager to do my great
service
and get it over with, and I didn't stop and
think."
"What
happened?"
"It
took me a long time to find the Caves of Fire
and
Night, but once I did, it wasn't hard to find the
Water
of Healing. The chamber's getting crowded. All
the
princes who've tried to get the water and failed
have
been turned into slabs of rock."
"I
know. I've seen them," Cimorene said. "Watch
out for
your head; the ceiling is low along here."
"Then
you know what it's like, and you've seen
the two
dippers on the wall by the spring." The stone
prince's
shoulder's sagged. "I knew I should use the tin
one. It
was one of the first things we learned at school.
But I
thought it wouldn't do any harm if I just looked
at the
gold one, so I took it off the wall. And as soon
as I
touched it, I started to stiffen up."
"Urn,"
said Cimorene. The stone prince was ob-
viously
well aware of how foolishly he had behaved.
She saw
no reason to make him feel worse by pointing
it out
to him again.
"So
I stuck my arm in the spring," the prince said.
"You
stuck your arm—oh, I see! That was clever,"
Cimorene
said.
"Do
you really think so?" the stone prince asked
158
nxiously.
"I thought that since the water from the
nring
is going to turn all the slabs of stone back into
orinces
when someone finally succeeds in the quest,
then
the water ought to keep me from turning into a
slab of
stone in the first place. Only it didn't work the
way I
expected," he finished disconsolately.
"I
can see that," Cimorene said. "But at least you
can
still do things. It would be much worse to have to
lie
there waiting for the right prince to come along and
break
the spell."
"I
wouldn't have had to lie there very long," the
stone
prince said. "That king's youngest son is going
to
arrive any day now, I just know it. Anyway, if I
were a
slab of stone, I wouldn't know about it until it
was all
over and I'd been turned back into a prince
again."
"How
do you know?" Cimorene demanded.
"Have
you ever been a stone slab?"
The
stone prince looked startled. "No, I haven't. I
never
thought of that."
"Well,
start thinking now," Cimorene said tartly.
"Here's
the service room. Wait here for me, and don't
go
wandering off if I'm late getting back. I don't know
how
long this errand is going to take, and it would be
very
awkward for me if the dragons found you roaming
through
their tunnels."
"I'll
remember," the stone prince promised. "But
what do
I do if someone comes in?"
"Duck
into the banquet area," Cimorene said,
showing
him. "And if someone comes in there, too,
curl up
in the corner and pretend you're a rock."
"All
right," the prince said doubtfully.
Cimorene
did not like leaving him, but she was
even
less enthusiastic about taking him to see Roxim.
Roxim
probably wouldn't object to the prince himself,
though
Cimorene suspected that there might have been
some
difficulty over his proposed theft of the Water of
Healing.
But explaining everything to the gray-green
dragon
would take hours. Roxim was nice, but he
tended
to take a simple view of things, and the prince's
situation
was anything but simple. So Cimorene gave
the
prince one more warning, just to make sure he
understood,
and started off toward Roxim's cave to
finish
her errand.
160
<T •
f"
12
In
Which Cimorene Calls on a Dragon,
and the
Stone Prince Discovers a Plot
he
shortcut to Roxim's worked just as well as Cim-
orene
had hoped, and she even made up some of the
time
she had lost earlier. Roxim was in, too. She could
hear
the scraping of his scales as he moved around
inside.
She stepped up to the entrance of the cave and
called,
"Dragon Roxim!"
Something
round and shiny flew through the air,
missing
Cimorene by inches. It hit the wall of the tunnel
with a
loud clang and slid rattling to the floor. Cimorene
jumped.
"Roxim!"
she shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Whafs
this?" the dragon said, poking his nose
out of
the cave entrance.
i6i
"I
am Cimorene, princess to the dragon Kazul, and
I offer
you greetings and good fortune in all your en-
deavors."
Cimorene thought it best to be particularly
polite,
in case Roxim were in a bad mood. She sus-
pected
he might be. In her experience, someone in a
good
mood did not throw things at visitors.
"Very
good," Roxim said. "Nice to see you again
and all
that, but I haven't got time for visitors at the
moment.
Sorry."
"I'm
not a visitor, exactly. Kazul sent me with a
message
for you."
"Oh,
well, thafs different. Just hand me that shield
there,
would you?"
Cimorene
picked up the shield from the floor of
the
tunnel. There was a large dent in one side where
it had
hit the tunnel wall, and several smaller ones over
the
rest of it from banging against things on its way to
the
tunnel floor.
"You
ought to be more careful," she said severely.
"Just
look at this!"
"Ha!"
Roxim snorted, examining the dents.
"Shoddy
work, shoddy work, that's the problem. In
my day,
you could roll a knight in full armor down the
far
side of the Vanishing Mountain and bounce him off
two or
three cliffs without so much as scratching his
surface,
much less denting it. This cheap modern stuff
just
doesn't hold up."
"If
you know it doesn't hold up, you shouldn't
throw
it around like that," Cimorene said. "You almost
hit
me."
Roxim
shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry. Didn't mean
anything
by it."
162
"All
right, but next time look before you throw
things,"
Cimorene said, handing him the shield.
"I
always have this problem when I try to find
something,"
Roxim confided. "Never know where to
look.
Gets frustrating, and next thing you know I'm
pitching
armor at the walls. Bad habit, but hard to
break."
"Maybe
I could help," Cimorene suggested. "After
I give
you Kazul's message, that is."
"Don't
need help to put dents in things," Roxim
said.
"Comes to that, I don't really want it."
"I
didn't mean help throw things," Cimorene said
patiently.
"I meant help find whatever you're looking
for."
"Oh,
that. Well, come in then."
Cimorene
followed the dragon into a moderately
large
cave, similar to the one Kazul used as a living
area.
Roxim's cave, however, was full of clutter. Cim-
orene
had to pick her way past bits of armor, one half
of a
pair of bookends, a box of tea, a pink scroll, three
mismatched
kitchen pots, a small wooden statue, a
broken
flute, and four partially burned candles. Roxim
walked
straight over the mess as if it weren't there,
squashing
a mangy-looking stuffed pigeon and flatten-
ing a
tin cup in passing. He dropped the shield on a
pile of
silk flowers and waved Cimorene to a seat on
a large
wooden chest near one wall. "Now, what's this
message
of Kazul's?"
"Ifs
about the wizards," Cimorene said, settling
gingerly
onto the dusty surface of the chest. She made
a
mental note to find Roxim a nice princess as soon as
she
possibly could. "Alianora and I found one of them
163
picking
dragonsbane a few days ago, and Kazul thiiiKs
King
Tokoz will listen to you if you tell him about -c "
"So
that's where they got it," Roxim said in tones
of
disgust. "Pity you didn't mention it sooner."
Cimorene
got a sinking feeling. "What do v^u
mean?"
"Somebody
poisoned King Tokoz this morning,"
Roxim
explained. "Slipped some dragonsbane in his
coffee.
Fast-acting; nothing to be done. Now we ne-d
a new
king."
"Thafs
awful!" Cimorene said. "Do you know who
did
it?"
"Those
dratted wizards, that's who," Roxim said
angrily.
"It's obvious. Stupid thing to do; has to be
wizards,
by George! But Woraug won't listen to me "
"Woraug?
Whafs Woraug got to do with it?"
"He's
in charge of the investigation," Roxim re-
plied.
"Taking his time about it, too, if you ask me."
"But
if the King was only poisoned this morn-
ing . .
."
"What
does that have to do with it?" Roxim said
unreasonably.
"Besides, if Woraug doesn't hurry, he
won't
have the culprit in hand by the time the trials
start
tomorrow."
"Trials?
You mean with Colin's Stone, to choose
the new
king?" Cimorene said with some hesitation.
She did
not see how it could be a trial for the person
who had
killed the King if they hadn't caught him yet,
but she
was not completely certain that the dragons
didn't
have some way of getting around the problem
and
trying him anyway.
"That's
it," Roxim said, pleased. "And before I
164
leave I
have to find that emerald I picked up fifty years
ago.
Coronation present for the new King."
"But
you haven't got a new King yet," Cimorene
said
feeling somewhat bewildered. "And what if you're
the
King?"
Roxim
smiled broadly. "Knew you were a nice gal.
Me the
King! I rather like the idea. I still have to find
the
emerald, though. Wouldn't do to show up at the
trials
without a coronation present. Rum thing to do.
Overconfident."
Though
she was upset and more than a little wor-
ried,
Qmorene helped Roxim as best she could. After
about
an hour of poking through the clutter, Cimorene
found
the emerald, wrapped in a gold-embroidered
handkerchief
and stuffed into the mouth of a large brass
hom.
Roxim thanked her and invited her to stay to tea,
but
Cimorene politely declined. She was eager to get
back to
Kazul, to tell her what had happened and de-
dde
what to do next.
Cimorene
hurried back to Kazul's cave by the shortest
route,
thinking so hard about Tokoz's death that she
forgot
everything else. She found Kazul sleeping and
was
forced to wake her, despite her worries about the
dragon's
health. She knew Kazul would want to hear
about
the King of the Dragons as soon as possible, and
she
wanted to hear what Kazul made of Woraug's in-
volvement
in the investigation.
"Back
already?" Kazul said, opening her eyes.
"Didn't
Roxim get you in to see King Tokoz?"
"No,"
Cimorene said. She hesitated, uncertain of
the
best way to break the news. "It was too late."
165
"Too
late?" Kazul raised her head, startled. She
eyed
Cimorene briefly, then said, "All right, lefs have
it.
What's happened?"
"King
Tokoz was poisoned this morning. Roxim
said
someone put dragonsbane in his coffee."
Kazul
snorted. "Somebody knew Tokoz pretty
well."
Seeing Cimorene's surprised expression, she ex-
plained,
"Tokoz drank Turkish coffee every morning.
The
stuff is strong enough to take the roof off your
mouth.
It's why no one ever went to talk to him over
breakfast.
You could boil a whole field's worth of drag-
onsbane
in Turkish coffee without changing the taste
enough
to notice. Or the texture."
Cimorene
tried to imagine coffee, even Turkish cof-
fee,
strong enough to take the roof off a dragon's mouth
and
failed. "I told Roxim about the wizard Alianora
and I
met, and Roxim said I ought to tell Woraug be-
cause
Woraug is in charge of finding the poisoner,"
she
said. "But—"
"But
when you caught Antorell picking dragons-
bane,
he thought Woraug had sent you," Kazul said.
"If
Woraug's mixed up with wizards—" She broke off,
coughing.
Cimorene watched her anxiously, but the
coughing
spasm did not last long. "I don't like this,"
Kazul
finished when she got her breath back.
"I
don't, either," Cimorene agreed. "But what can
we do
about it?"
Kazul frowned
and said nothing. For several min-
utes,
the two sat and thought in silence. Then Kazul
said,
"We can't do anything until the new King has
been
chosen. Did Roxim say when the testing will be?"
"Tomorrow,"
Cimorene said.
166
"Tomorrow!"
Kazul surged to her feet. "Why
didn't
you say so at once? If I'm to be at the Ford of
Whispering
Snakes tomorrow, I have to—"
"Lie
down!" Cimorene commanded. Kazul looked
at her
in surprise and collapsed in another fit of cough-
ing.
Cimorene waited until the dragon's coughing had
subsided,
then said sternly, "You're in no condition to
go
hauling rocks all over the countryside. I'd be sur-
prised
if you can even fly as far as the end of the pass.
I think
you're going to have to give up on the trials
this
time around."
Kazul
made a choking noise. Cimorene looked at
her in
alarm, then realized that the dragon was
laughing.
"It's
not optional. Princess," Kazul said. "All the
adult
dragons in the Mountains of Morning are required
to show
up, no matter what condition they're in."
"But—"
"There
is no acceptable excuse for missing the test-
ing of
a new King," Kazul repeated. "None. And I have
a great
deal to do before I leave, so if you'll—"
"If
anything needs to be done around here, I'll do
it,"
Cimorene said firmly. "If you don't rest, you won't
be able
to fly at all, and then how will you get to the
ford?"
"A
reasonable point," Kazul said, settling reluc-
tantly
back into place. "Very well. The first thing I need
is a
coronation present for the new King. There's a
jeweled
helmet on a shelf in the second storeroom that
might
do. Bring it out so I can take a look at it."
Cimorene
spent the rest of the evening running
errands
for Kazul. Besides choosing a coronation gift
167
(Kazul
rejected the helmet and two crowns before d(
dding
on a scepter made of gold and crystal), innu-
merable
messages had to be delivered to various
dragons
who were in charge of arranging the trials.
This
one had to be informed of Kazul's ill health, so
that it
could be taken into account when the order of
the
testing was established; that one had to be told that
Kazul
would not be able to join the coronation proces-
sion.
Substitutes had to be found to perform Kazul's
various
ceremonial duties, then their names had to be
approved
by a surly dragon in charge of protocol, and
finally
the substitutions had to be recorded on all the
lists
of all the dragons who were managing each of the
events.
It reminded Cimorene strongly of Linderwall
and her
parents' court.
By the
time the last arrangement had been made
and the
last message delivered, it was very late ana
Cimorene
was exhausted. She was also very glad she
had not
let Kazul do all the running around. The
dragon,
who had slept most of the time Cimorene was
out,
was looking much better, even in the dim light c*
Cimorene's
lamp. Tired but satisfied, Cimorene wen-
to her
room and dropped into bed.
Cimorene
was up early the next morning, stirring a
dozen
ostrich eggs in a large iron kettle for Kazul's
breakfast.
Kazul ate all of them, then slid out of the
cave
and prepared to leave for the Ford of Whispering
Snakes.
"Don't
fret. Princess," Kazul said. "The testing
doesn't
start until ten. I have plenty of time to get there,
168
pven if
I stop to rest now and then." Her voice sounded
much
better than it had the day before, and it no longer
seemed
to rasp her throat. "While I'm gone, why don't
you
visit Woraug's princess? See if she's noticed any-
thing
odd these past few days. We need to know as
much as
we can before we talk to the new King about
Woraug
and the wizards."
"All
right," Cimorene said. "As soon as I'm done
with
the dishes."
Kazul
turned and leaped into the air, her wings
churning
clouds of dust from the dry surface of the
ground.
Cimorene squinted after her and shouted,
"Good
luck!" Kazul's wings dipped in answer before
the
dragon soared out of sight behind the shoulder of
the
next mountain. Cimorene stood looking after Kazul,
her forehead
wrinkling in worry. After a moment she
shook
herself and went inside. She had work to do.
Washing
the dishes did not take long, and as soon
as she
was done, Cimorene set off to visit Alianora.
The
tunnels and passageways were silent and empty,
and
Cimorene's footsteps echoed eerily through the
darkness.
She began to wish she had taken the longer
route
along the outside of the mountain. She had not
realized
that the dragon city would seem so strange
and
lifeless with all the dragons gone.
"Psst!
Cimorene!"
Cimorene
jumped. She whirled in the direction of
the
voice, raising her lamp like a club, and Alianora
stepped
out of the adjoining tunnel and into the circle
of
light. In one hand she clutched a large bucket, three-
quarters
full of soapy water, and she looked rather pale.
169
"Alianora!"
Cimorene said, lowering her arm,
"What
are you doing out here?"
"Shhh!"
Alianora said. She looked nervously ov»-r
her
shoulder. "Woraug told me to scrub off the tab'e
in the
banquet room while everyone was away. And--
and I
heard someone moving around in there. Evrn
though
everyone but us is gone. And I dropped cy
lamp,
and—"
"Oh,
my goodness," Cimorene said. "The stogie
prince!
I'd forgotten all about him."
"Who?"
"The
stone prince." Quickly, Cimorene explained
how she
had found and hidden him the day before.
"And
I hadn't thought about it until now, but this is
the
perfect time to get him out of the mountains," she
finished.
"All the dragons are gone and no one will
see
him. Come on, before I forget again."
Alianora
nodded dubiously, and the two girls
headed
for the banquet room. When they arrived, Cim-
orene
went in first, holding her lamp high. "Prince?"
she
called. "Are you there? It's me, Cimorene."
"Yes,
I'm here," said the stone prince, unfolding
stiffly
from a gray lump in the comer. "I'm glad you're
back.
Who's this you've brought with you?"
"Princess
Alianora of the Duchy of Toure-on-
Marsh,"
Cimorene said. "She's the princess of the
dragon
Woraug just now."
"Does
her father need a great service done for
him?"
the prince asked hopefully.
"Not
that I know of," Cimorene replied. "Unless
you're
good at getting rid of aunts, but that would be
more of
a service to Alianora than to her father."
170
"\
can think of nothing that would make me hap-
pier,"
the prince said with evident admiration as he
bowed
stiffly to Alianora. "Good afternoon. Princess.
Or
should it be 'good evening'? It's hard to tell without
windows."
Alianora
blushed and looked down at her bucket
without
answering.
"Actually,
it's good morning," Cimorene told the
prince.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come back for
you,
but . . . well, a lot has been going on."
Alianora
looked up sharply. "You've been sitting
here in
the dark all night?" She shuddered. "You could
at
least have left him a candle, Cimorene."
"Thank
you for the thought. Princess Alianora, but
ifs
just as well she didn't," the stone prince said. "If
I'd
been sitting here with a lit candle, they'd have no-
ticed
me right away. And an unlit candle isn't much
use in
the dark, is it?"
"What
do you mean?" Cimorene said. "Who
would
have noticed you?"
'The
dragon and the two men he was talking to,"
replied
the prince. "I think they were wizards."
"What?"
said Cimorene and Alianora together.
"Well,
they talked as if they were wizards," the
prince
said. "They weren't carrying staffs, though."
"What
did they look like?" Cimorene said.
"They
were both tall, and they both had beards.
The
older one's was gray and the younger one's was
brown."
"Antorell
and Zemenar!" Cimorene said. "And
they
were talking to a dragon?"
The
stone prince nodded.
171
"Then
they wouldn't have been carrying staffs.
Dragons
are allergic to them. Did you hear what they
said?"
"Something
about a contest," the stone prince said.
"The
wizards were going to fix it so this dragon would
win. It
sounded like a kird of cross-country race, and
the
wizards were going to hide along the path and—
and
help the dragon out somehow. I'm afraid I'm not
very
clear about that part. Spells aren't my specialty.
I'm
much better at hopeless causes."
Alianora
and Cimorene exchanged appalled
glances.
"The
trials with Colin's Stone to pick the new
King!"
Alianora said.
"Which
dragon?" Cimorene asked urgently. "Do
you
know which dragon they were talking to?"
"I
only heard the name once," the prince said. He
sounded
apologetic and a little embarrassed. "And I
don't
think I got it right. Ifs too silly."
"Tell
us!" Cimorene commanded.
"Well,
it sounded like 'warthog/ " the prince said
in an
even more apologetic tone than before.
"Could
it have been Woraug?" Cimorene asked
"That's
it!" the prince said. "I knew it couldn't
really
have been warthog."
"What
a pity you remembered," said a voice from
the
entrance into the banquet hall.
Cimorene
whirled. Antorell stood in the doorway,
staff
in hand, watching them with an intolerably smug
expression.
172
13
In
Which Alianora Discovers
an
Unexpected Use for Soap and Water,
and
Cimorene Has Difficulty
with a
Dragon
./Intorell
looked past Cimorene and Alianora as if they
were
not there and spoke directly to the stone prince.
"I
told Father someone was listening. He won't be
happy
when he finds out I was right, but he'U feel
better
when I tell him I've taken care of things. He
might
even let me have the first look in the King's
Crystal,
once Woraug gives it to us."
"So
thafs what you're after!" Cimorene said.
Antorell
favored her with a superior smile. "Quite
right.
Princess Cimorene. The King's Crystal will show
us the
whereabouts of every piece of useful and inter-
esting
magic in the world. All we'll have to do is go
out and
pick them up."
"Somehow
I don't think it will be that easy," Cim-
orene
murmured.
"We
knew Tokoz would never give it to us, but
Woraug
will, as soon as he's King of the Dragons. He'll
have
to, or we'll tell everyone how we were the ones
who
made sure he was the new king. Of course, we
can't
afford to have anybody around who might make
. . .
awkward revelations. I doubt that dragons will
listen
to a couple of hysterical princesses, but he"—
Antorell
pointed at the stone prince—"will have to go."
"What
are you going to do?" Alianora demanded.
She was
plainly frightened, and Cimorene could see
that
her knuckles were white with the force of her grip
on the
handle of the scrub bucket.
"Oh,
gravel seems appropriate, don't you think?"
Antorell
said. "No one will notice a few more rocks
around
here."
"Ought
I to be taking this person seriously?" the
stone
prince said in a rather doubtful tone.
"You'd
better if you don't want to end up as a lot
of
little pebbles," Alianora answered. She still sounded
frightened,
but she seemed to be getting a grip on
herself.
"He's a wizard."
"You
wouldn't be talking about gravel if you were
the one
who had to sweep the floor," Cimorene said
to
Antorell. She stepped forward as she spoke, hoping
to get
between Antorell and the stone prince before
Antorell
noticed what she was doing. She didn't think
Antorell
was a good enough wizard to do any real
harm,
but there was no point in taking chances.
"Stay
where you are. Princess Cimorene," Antorell
commanded.
"I'll deal with you in a moment."
174
"Must
you be so theatrical?" Cimorene said.
"Theatrical?
You think I'm being theatrical?" An-
torell
said furiously. "I am simply showing a proper
respect
for the importance of this moment!"
"You're
showing off," Cimorene said flatly. "And
you're
not doing it very well."
"He
doesn't sound much like a wizard to me," the
stone
prince said. "Is he always like this?"
"Enough!"
Antorell cried, and raised his staff.
Light
shimmered along its length and began to gather
at the
lower end. Grinning wolfishly, the wizard tilted
the
staff, aiming it toward the stone prince.
"Stop
that!" Alianora said. Antorell ignored her.
"I
said, stop it!" Alianora shouted, and threw her bucket
at
Antorell's head.
Alianora's
aim was off. The bucket hit Antorell's
shoulder.
A bolt of fire shot from the end of his staff
and
whizzed between Cimorene and the stone prince
to
strike the far wall with a whumping noise and a
shower
of sparks. Antorell staggered, slipped in the
cascade
of soapy water, and fell over the bucket, drop-
ping
his staff in the process.
Cimorene
darted in and kicked Antorell's staff out
of his
reach. He stared up at her from a mound of
soggy
silk and soapsuds. "You can't do this to me!" he
shrieked.
Something
in his voice made Cimorene and her
friends
look at him more closely. Alianora's eyes went
wide,
and Cimorene blinked in surprise. "He's—he's
collapsing,"
Alianora said in a stunned voice.
"He's
melting," Cimorene corrected her.
"I
can't be melting!" Antorell cried. "I'm a wizard!
i75
Ifs not
fa—" His head disappeared into a small brown
puddle,
and his cries stopped.
There
was a moment of astonished silence. "I
thought
it was witches who melt when you dump water
over
them," the stone prince said at last.
"It
is, usually," Cimorene said. "What on earth did
you put
in that bucket, Alianora?"
"Just
water and soap, and a little lemon juice to
make it
smell nicer," Alianora said.
"Um,"
said Cimorene, thinking hard. "I'll bet
there's
a simpler way of melting wizards, but we don't
have
time right now to figure out what it is. How many
buckets
can you get hold of in a hurry?"
"Buckets?"
Alianora said. "Two, counting this one.
And I
suppose I could borrow one from Hallanna; that's
three."
"And
I've got two in the kitchen, and I expect the
iron
kettle is big enough. That's six altogether; two for
each of
us. You will help, won't you?" Cimorene
added,
turning to the stone prince.
"Of
course," the prince assured her. "Help with
what?"
"Stopping
those wizards," Cimorene said. "We
can't
let them make Woraug the next King of the Drag-
ons by
trickery."
"I
don't see how we can stop them," Alianora said.
"We
can't possibly get to the Ford of Whispering
Snakes
before the trials start, and even if we could, we
don't
know where the wizards will be hiding."
"If
we tell the dragons that Woraug's trying to
cheat,
they'll stop the trials," Cimorene said with more
176
confidence
than she felt. "That will give us time to find
the
wizards. And I've got a way to get us to the ford.
You go
start collecting buckets. I'll meet you at your
place
after I get the things I'll need from Kazul's."
"What
about..." Alianora gestured with distaste
at the
wet, messy lump of robes in the center of the
puddle
that was all that remained of Antorell.
"We'll
clean it up when we get back," Cimorene
said.
"This is more important."
Alianora
nodded, and the three left the banquet
room.
The stone prince decided to accompany Alianora
since
he was not a fast walker and Cimorene had farther
to go.
Cimorene left them when they reached the main
tunnel
and ran back to Kazul's cave. There she went
straight
to her room and opened the drawer where she
kept odds
and ends. In the back left-hand comer, care-
fully
wrapped in a handkerchief, were the three black
feathers
she had taken from beneath the left wing of
the
bird she had killed in the Enchanted Forest. She
shoved
the whole packet into her pocket without both-
ering
to unwrap it and went on to the kitchen to collect
her
buckets. Then she hurried through the tunnels to
Woraug's
cave, where Alianora and the stone prince
were
waiting.
When
Cimorene arrived, she found the stone
prince
pumping water to fill Alianora's third bucket
while
Alianora mixed soap and lemon juice into the
second.
Cimorene set her pots and pails next to the
pump
and went to help Alianora.
"Now
what?" Alianora said when all the buckets
were
full of cleaning mixture.
177
Cimorene
reached into her pocket and dug out the
package.
Gently, she unfolded the handkerchief and
removed
one of the feathers, noticing as she did that
the
package also contained the pebble she had picked
up in
the Caves of Fire and Night. "If we each take
two
buckets, can we still link elbows without spilling
too
much?" she asked.
Alianora
and the stone prince looked at each other,
shrugged,
and picked up two buckets each. Cimorene
took
the last bucket and the iron pot, holding the handle
of the
pot with only three fingers so that she could keep a
grip on
the feather with her thumb and forefinger. A se-
ries of
awkward maneuvers followed as Alianora and
the
stone prince tried to link elbows with Cimorene
without
losing their balance or dropping one of their
buckets.
In the process, Cimorene's skirt got soaked.
"It's
a good thing I'm not a wizard," Cimorene
said.
"Ready? Here we go." She twisted her hand to-
ward
the edge of the iron pot and let go of the black
feather.
"I wish we were at the Ford of Whispering
Snakes,"
she said as the feather fell, and the room
dissolved
around them.
They
materialized at the very edge of a river, on a
flat,
narrow rock that jutted out over the water, and
Alianora
immediately slipped on the wet stone. If the
stone
prince had not been so solid and heavy, all three
of them
would have fallen into the river. As it was, it
took
Cimorene and Alianora several seconds to regain
their
balance. When she was finally sure of her footing,
Cimorene
breathed a sigh of relief and quickly looked
about
her.
178
The
Ford of Whispering Snakes was crowded.
Dragons
of all sizes and shades of green lined the banks
of the
river and filled the spaces beneath the towering
trees
of the Enchanted Forest. On the far bank, a pale
dragon
was poring over a parchment list that Cimorene
thought
she remembered seeing during one of the
many
errands she had run the previous night. All the
dragons
seemed to be talking at once, and none of them
noticed
Cimorene and her friends.
"Hello,
dragons!" Cimorene shouted, trying to
make
herself heard above the noise.
"Here,
now! What's all this?" an olive-green
dragon
on the bank demanded, turning. "Someone's
trying
to sneak a look at the trials."
"S-s-s-sneakssss,"
hissed a soft but nonetheless
dearly
audible voice from somewhere near Cimorene's
feet.
Cimorene jumped and looked down, but though
she
craned her neck to see all around her, she could
not
find the second speaker.
"Get
rid of them before Troum comes back with
Colin's
Stone," another dragon advised.
"We
aren't trying to sneak in, and we don't care
about
watching the trials," Cimorene said, wishing she
dared
to look around for Kazul. "We came to warn you
about
the wizards."
"Wiz-z-zardssss,"
the soft voice echoed.
"Wizards?"
the olive-green dragon said skeptically.
"There
aren't any wizards here."
"No,
but they've figured out some way of inter-
fering
with your choice of the next king," Cimorene
said.
"They're hiding somewhere. You have to put off
i79
the
trials with Colin's Stone until we can find them and
stop
them. If you'll just tell Kazul we're here—"
"Put
off the trials?" the olive-green dragon inter-
rupted.
"Impossible! They've been under way for half
an
hour. We can't just stop in the middle. Who are all
you
people, anyway?"
A
flicker of motion caught Cimorene's eye, and she
looked
down just in time to see a thin red snake dart
from
one dump of weeds to the next. "S-s-s-sneaksss,"
whispered
the soft voice an instant later. "S-s-sneaksss
and
wiz-z-zardsss."
"I
wasn't asking you," the dragon said severely in
the
general direction of the snake. "And whatever they
are,
they certainly aren't wizards."
"They
look like somebody's princesses to me," a
blue-green
dragon said. "Pity, that. It would be so
much
simpler to eat them and get them out of the way."
"Are
you sure?" said a third dragon. "The one on
the end
doesn't look like a princess."
"I'm
beginning to think this wasn't such a good
idea,"
the stone prince said.
"He
may not be a princess, but he doesn't look
edible,
either," the blue-green dragon pointed out.
"And
these other two are definitely princesses. You
can't
go eating them out of hand."
"Princesssessss,"
hissed the voice from under the
rock.
"Oh,
princesses," the olive-green dragon said. "No
wonder
they're so full of wild tales."
"It's
true!" Cimorene said desperately. "If you
don't
believe us, take us to Kazul; she will."
180
"I
can't do that!" the olive-green dragon said,
shocked.
"Kazul's third in line now, after Mazarin and
Woraug.
You can't talk to people who are that close to
making
their attempt with the stone. It would distract
them."
"Woraug!"
Alianora said. "Woraug's next in line?"
"Yes,
he should be starting off any minute now,"
said
the olive-green dragon. "Then comes Mazarin, and
then
Kazul. I don't expect it will take long, though. No-
body's
carried the stone for more than a mile or two yet."
"But
I'm Kazul's princess!" Cimorene said.
"I
don't care who you are," the dragon replied
crossly.
"You can't talk to Kazul until she's done with
her
turn."
"That
will be too late!" Cimorene cried. "You don't
understand.
Woraug and the wizards—"
"I've
had enough of your wizards," the olive-green
dragon
said. "You're a confounded nuisance, and you
ought
not to be pushing your way in here where you're
not
wanted. Go away!"
"Cimorene,
what are we going to do?" Alianora
said as
the olive-green dragon turned and stalked de-
tenninedly
away.
"At
hero's school we were always taught that if
you
couldn't persuade anyone to help you with some-
thing,
it meant that you were supposed to do it by
yourself,"
the stone prince said diffidently. "And we
are
prepared." He lifted one of his buckets slightly.
"But
we don't know where the wizards are." Al-
ianora
said. "We have to find them before we can stop
them,
and there isn't time."
i8i
"S-s-stop
the wiz-z-zardsss," whispered the soft
voice.
"That's
the first sensible thing you've said since
we got
here," Cimorene said to the hissing whisper.
"Can't
you just wish to be where the wizards are?"
the
stone prince asked Cimorene.
"No,
you have to know where you're going, or the
spell
doesn't work," Cimorene said.
For a
moment all three were glumly silent. Cim-
orene
stared at the water, remembering how and where
she had
gotten the feathers. Suddenly she raised her
head.
"We
may not know where the wizards are, but I'll
bet I
know someone who can find out. Hold this for a
minute."
Cimorene
handed one of her buckets to Alianora,
then
dug out the packet of feathers. She pulled the
second
feather from the packet and grabbed Alianora's
elbow.
"Hold tight, everybody. I wish we were at Mor-
wen's
house," Cimorene said, and dropped the feather.
The
scenery shifted abruptly, and they were stand-
ing on
Morwen's porch. The house was just as tidy-
looking
as Cimorene remembered, and the porch floor
gleamed
as if it had just been washed. A black and
white
cat, startled by their sudden appearance, fell off
the
porch railing. Four others left off washing them-
selves
to stare at Cimorene with unwinking green and
yellow
eyes.
"I
need to talk to Morwen," Cimorene said to the
cats.
"It's an emergency."
A lean
tiger-stripped cat rose and oozed through
182
a crack
in the door. Cimorene unwound herself from
Alianora
and the stone prince and set her bucket on
the
porch floor. "I hope this works," she muttered to
herself
as Alianora and the prince placed their buckets
beside
hers.
183
14
In
Which the Wizards Try to Make Trouble,
and
Cimorene Does Something about It
the
door of the cottage opened and Morwen stepped
out.
"What sort of emergency?" she asked. She studied
Alianora
and the stone prince for a moment, then
peered
at Cimorene over the tops of her glasses and
added
with some severity, "I hope you weren't refer-
ring to
his predicament. He may well find it an incon-
venience,
but it certainly isn't an emergency. Not by
my
standards, anyway."
"No,"
said Cimorene, "I was talking about the
wizards.
They've poisoned the King of the Dragons,
and now
they're trying to interfere with Colin's Stone
so that
Woraug will be the new king. We have to stop
them,
but we don't know where they are, and Woraug's
184
going
to try to carry the stone any minute. Can you
find
them for us?"
Morwen
blinked twice and shoved her glasses back
into
place with her forefinger. "I see," she said. "You're
right.
It's an emergency. I'll do what I can. But if you
don't
tell me the whole story later, when there's a bit
more
time, I shall—I shall turn you all into mice and
give
you to the cats. Wait here."
As she
spoke, Morwen disappeared into the house.
She
reappeared a moment later, holding a small mirror
and
muttering over it. "Colin's Stone," she said, and
breathed
on the glass. She looked up. "Any wizard in
particular?"
"Zemenar,
the Head Wizard of the Society of Wiz-
ards/'
Cimorene said, wishing Morwen would go faster
and
knowing she couldn't.
"I
should have guessed," Morwen said. She turned
back to
the mirror. "Zemenar," she said, and breathed
on the
glass once more. Then she motioned to Cim-
orene
to come and look.
Cimorene
obeyed, and Alianora and the stone
prince
crowded closely behind her. The mirror showed
a
blurry, wavering picture of the Ford of Whispering
Snakes.
As Cimorene watched, the picture moved
slowly
along one bank of the river, past the waiting
dragons
and the immense trees of the Enchanted Forest
and on
down the river.
"Can't
it go any faster?" Alianora whispered.
"There's
no need to whisper, and no, it can't,"
Morwen
said. "Not if you want to be sure of finding
these
wizards of yours on the first try, and it doesn't
sound
as if you have time to waste on mistakes."
185
The
picture in the mirror continued to creep along
the
bank. Cimorene pulled the third and last feather
out of
her pocket and brushed it nervously across her
fingers
while she waited.
"What's
that?" the stone prince said suddenly.
The
mirror-picture stopped, then moved up the
bank,
away from the river toward a thicket of blackberry
brambles.
Cimorene saw the tip of a wooden staff pok-
ing up
above the thicket. Tensely, she waited for the
mirror
to show the far side of the brambles.
"It's
them!" Alianora said. She sounded frightened
and
excited at the same time. "Oh, dear!"
Cimorene
took a good look at the picture in the
mirror.
Five wizards were standing in an opening be-
hind
the blackberry thicket, leaning on their staffs and
looking
at the sky. Suddenly, one of the wizards
pointed.
The others peered upward, nodded, and
raised
their staffs.
"Get
the buckets!" Cimorene said. Cats scattered
in all
directions as the stone prince pounded across the
porch
behind Cimorene and Alianora. "Hang on; here
we go.
I wish—"
"Not
without me you—" Morwen said, grabbing
Cimorene's
shoulder.
"—we
were at the blackberry thicket where the
wizards
are," Cimorene said, and dropped the feather.
"—don't,"
Morwen finished as the porch winked
out and
was replaced by blackberries.
The
five wizards were standing in an arc just in
front
of the bramble. Each of them held his staff so that
the
lower end was about a foot above the ground,
186
pointing
at something hidden in the moss at their feet.
An
unpleasant yellow-green light dripped from the
ends of
the staffs, and the moss where the wizards
were
standing was brown and dead. The wizards' backs
were
toward Cimorene and her friends.
"Now!"
Cimorene cried. As the wizards began to
turn,
she set one of her buckets on the ground and
lifted
the other in both hands. Taking careful aim, she
flung
the soapy water over a black-haired wizard in the
center
of the arc.
"Charge!"
yelled the stone prince, and threw one
of his
buckets at the nearest wizard.
"Take
that, you cheats!" said Alianora, dumping
the
first of her buckets over another.
"What—this
is impossible!" said one of the wizards
indignantly
as he began to melt.
"Too
bad," Cimorene said, throwing her second
load of
water at the next-to-last wizard.
"Watch
where you're throwing that!" Morwen said
to the
stone prince, who had sloshed his second bucket
over
the fifth wizard with such enthusiasm that water
sprayed
in all directions.
"Sorry,"
the prince apologized. "Is that all of
them?"
"It's
all five of the ones we saw," Cimorene said
cautiously.
"Then
we did it!" Alianora said.
"Not
quite," said Zemenar, stepping out of the
bushes
behind Morwen. "You interrupted the spell, of
course,
but we were nearly finished anyway. And as
long as
the stone remains enchanted, Woraug won't
187
have
any trouble getting it all the way to the Vanishing
Mountain.
Look." He pointed with his staff, and Cim-
orene
saw three dragons, high in the air, flying steadily
toward
the mountains. One of them had a long black
stone
clutched in his claws, and the other two appeared
to be
escorting him at a careful distance.
"Woraug
and the two judges," Cimorene mur-
mured.
Zemenar
nodded. "You might as well put that
bucket
down," he went on, turning to Alianora. "You
can't
throw it at me without melting your witch friend
here.
What's in it, by the way?"
"I
don't see why we should tell you," Cimorene
said as
Alianora set the last of the six buckets down.
"Because
I'm interested. Princess," Zemenar said
with an
oily smile. "And it will pass the time until the
next
shift gets here, and I can decide what to do with
you."
"If
you're that interested, why don't you take a
closer
look?" said the stone prince, picking up Al-
ianora's
bucket.
"Stay
where you are!" Zemenar commanded. As
he
spoke, he raised his staff and sidestepped so that
Morwen
was between him and the stone prince.
"If
you insist," said the prince. He shrugged, lifted
the
bucket, and flung the water over Morwen and Zem-
enar at
the same time.
"What—no!"
Zemenar cried in horror as he began
to
melt. "Not soapsuds! It's demeaning."
"There's
a little lemon juice in it, too," Alianora
offered.
188
Zemenar
glared at her. He was less than half his
normal
height and shrinking as they watched, while a
dark
puddle spread out beneath him. "Lemon juice! Bah!
How
dare you do such a thing? I'm the Head Wizard of the
Society
of Wizards!" His voice grew fainter and higher
as he
shrank. "Interfering busybodies! Soapsuds! Of all the
undignified
tricks. You'll be sony for this! You can't melt a wizaid
forever,
you know! You'll be sor . . ."
The
wizard's voice ceased. All that remained of
him was
a pile of silk robes and a long wooden staff
lying
on some damp moss. Alianora and Cimorene
stared
for a moment, then Alianora turned to the stone
prince.
"I'm
glad he's gone," she said, "but how could
you
melt Morwen just to get at that wizard?"
"But
I didn't," the stone prince said. "Look."
Cimorene
and Alianora turned. Morwen seemed
no
shorter than usual, though she certainly looked very
damp.
She had taken off her glasses and was shaking
water
off them. "Don't just stand there," she said
crossly
to Cimorene. "Hand me a dry handkerchief."
"Just
a minute," Cimorene said, checking her pock-
ets.
She found the handkerchief that had been wrapped
around
the magic feathers and handed it to Morwen.
"Um,
why didn't you melt?"
"Clean
living," Morwen said as she began to dry
her
glasses on Cimorene's handkerchief.
"I
thought as much," the stone prince said in
a
satisfied tone. "Nobody who lives in a house as
dean as
yours could possibly melt in a bucket of soap-
suds."
189
"Quite
right," Morwen said approvingly. "You
have a
good head on your shoulders, young man.
What's
this?" She held up a sharp-edged black pebble.
"It's
a piece of stone I found in the Caves of Fire
and
Night," Cimorene said.
"Where,
exactly?"
"In
the King's Cave," Cimorene said. "Morwen,
shouldn't
we do something about that spell Zemenar
mentioned?"
Alianora
was watching the sky, shading her eyes
with
her hand. "Woraug's nearly halfway to the moun-
tain,"
she said .anxiously.
"Good,"
said Morwen, though neither Cimorene
nor
Alianora could tell which of them she was talking
to. The
witch shook her wet robes and walked over to
the
patch of dead moss where the wizards had been
working,
picking her way carefully past little piles of
robes
and staffs. Cimorene followed. In the center of
the
brown area was a black stone the size of Cimorene's
fist. A
web of yellow-green light flickered across its
smooth
surface.
"Sloppy,"
Morwen said. "Very sloppy. Though
I'm not
surprised. Wizards always seem to depend on
brute
force when a little subtlety would be far more
effective."
She fingered Cimorene's pebble for a mo-
ment,
then reached out and dropped it on top of the
wizards'
stone.
There
was a noise like a great deal of popcorn all
popping
at once, and the light that flickered over the
black
stone spat yellow-green sparks in all directions.
Alianora
jumped and backed away. Cimorene would
190
have
liked to do the same, but she did not want to give
Morwen
a bad impression of her courage, so she stayed
where
she was.
The
sparks died, and the flickering light went out.
From
the sky high above came a faint shriek of surprise
and
rage. Cimorene looked up and saw three black
specks
in the sky. No, not three: four, and the two
escort
dragons were swooping to catch the speck that
was
Colin's Stone, which Woraug had just dropped.
Cimorene
gave a sigh of relief and looked at Mor-
wen.
"So much for Woraug and the wizards," she said.
"We
didn't even need the fireproofing spell. What did
you
do?"
"And
what happens now?" Alianora added.
"Duck,"
said Morwen, and threw herself sideways
into
the bushes.
"Wha—"
said the stone prince, and then he and
Cimorene
and Alianora were engulfed by a blast of
dragon
fire.
The
stone prince leaped in front of the two prin-
cesses,
but he was much too late to protect them. For-
tunately
the fireproofing spell was still in effect, and
neither
of them even felt warm, though Alianora lost
the
ends of her sleeves and Cimorene's hemline rose
six
scorched inches.
"I
knew I shouldn't have said that about the fire-
proofing
spell," Cimorene muttered,
With a
wordless snarl and a thunder of wings,
Woraug
landed just in front of the little group.
"You!"
he shouted when he saw Cimorene. "I
might
have known it would be you!" Flame shot from
191
his
mouth once more, but it was just as useless as it
had
been the first time.
Cimorene
glanced up and saw one of the escort
dragons
spiraling down to see what was going on. "You
might
as well give up, Woraug," she said, hoping to
distract
the angry dragon long enough for help to ar-
rive.
"You can't be King of the Dragons now."
"I'll
tear you limb from limb!" Woraug raged.
"Every
last one of you!" One arm shot out as he spoke,
and
shining silver claws snapped around the stone
prince's
waist.
Alianora
screamed.
"Hurry
up!" Cimorene shouted at the dragon in
the
sky.
The
dragon heard and dove toward them, but he
was not
fast enough. Woraug shoved the stone prince
into
his mouth and bit down hard. An instant later he
howled
in pain and spat out the prince and four teeth.
"What
i5 all this?" said the escort dragon, landing
carefully
beside ^^oraug. The clearing was getting
rather crowded.
"A
plot to cheat on the test to see who the next
King of
the Dragons will be," Cimorene said. "Woraug
was in
it, and a lot of wizards."
"Are
you all right?" Alianora asked the stone
prince,
who was just picking himself up. His stone was
black
in places from the dragon fire, but otherwise he
seemed
unhurt.
"More
or less," the stone prince said. "But just
look
what that fire did to my clothes! And that dragon's
put a
chip in my sleeve. What am I supposed to do
192
about
that? It's not as if I can just change clothes when
I get
home, you know."
"That's
ridiculous!" the escort dragon told Cimo-
rene.
"No dragon would cooperate with wizards. I
don't
see any wizards, either. I think you're making it
up."
"Of
course you don't see any wizards," Cimorene
said,
feeling very cross. "We melted them."
"Melted
them?"
"Where
do you think those staffs came from?"
Cimorene
pointed at the wizards' staffs lying across the
scattered
brown puddles.
The
dragon backed up a pace and sniffed experi-
mentally.
"It's
all quite true," Morwen said, poking her head
out of
the bushes. "And we'll be more than happy to
explain
the whole thing to your new King as soon as
you
have one. Provided, of course, that you take that
maniac away
before he burns the whole Enchanted
Forest
to the ground." She gestured at Woraug. "Cim-
orene,
I really must insist on getting a copy of that
fireproofing
spell. It will clearly be worth every minute
of the
months of hunting it will take me to find some
hens'
teeth, and I may as well get started as soon as I
can."
"Who's
that?" said the escort dragon. "Morwen?
That
does it! This is too much for me. I'm taking you
all
into custody until the trials are over and the King
can
sort it out. Come along."
"I
assume that doesn't apply to me," Woraug rum-
bled.
He winced as he spoke.
193
"It
certainly does," the escort dragon said. "I said
all,
and I meant all. If I'd meant 'all the humans/ I'd
have
said 'all the humans/ or maybe 'some of you' or
'you
over there' or 'all you non-dragons' or—"
"Nonsense!"
Woraug interrupted. "Don't you
know
who I am?"
"You're
the dragon who caused a ruckus just now
for no
reason I can see," the escort dragon replied.
"And
it's my duty and my job to take you into custody.
When
the trials are over, you can explain it to the King,
and if
I've done something wrong, well, I'll take what
I have
coming. And if I haven't, you'll take yours.
And—"
"All
right, all right," Woraug said. "But I warn
you,
you'll regret this."
"That's
as may be," the escort dragon said with
dignity.
"Right now, though, you're in custody along
with
the rest of these people, and you'd better not go
snacking
on any of them until things are sorted out. I
saw what
you did to the gray one."
"Did
you?" said the stone prince. "Then what are
you
going to do about this chip in my sleeve?"
"Tell
it to the King," the escort dragon advised.
"Now,
off we go, the lot of you."
Morwen
came cautiously out of the bushes, brush-
ing
leaves from her already wet black robes. She
stopped
and peered at the escort dragon over the tops
of her
glasses. "This has not been a good day for any-
one's
clothes," she said severely. "I shall send the
cleaning
bill to your king."
"Whatever
you want," the escort dragon said im-
patiently.
"Come on."
194
Scowling
furiously, Woraug marched off into the
forest.
The stone prince and Alianora followed, talking
in low
voices. Morwen paused to pick up the wizards'
black
rock and Cimorene's pebble, then went on after
them.
Cimorene hesitated.
"Go
on," said the escort dragon.
"I
will, but I think you ought to know that another
batch
of wizards is supposed to show up soon," Cim-
orene
said. "Zemenar said something about a second
shift.
I don't know what they can do without the stone
they
were using, but I'm sure they'll try something."
"Wizards
always do," the escort dragon said with
a sigh.
He studied the wizards' staffs that were lying
around
the clearing with a melancholy air. "All right,
I'll
send someone back to keep an eye on things as soon
as we
get to the ford. Whatever was going on here,
there
certainly were wizards in it, and that's enough
for
me."
"Good,"
said Cimorene. "And thank you." She
smiled
at the startled expression on the dragon's face
and
started after the others.
15
In
Which the Dragons Crown a .New King,
and
Cimorene Gets a New Job
the
walk to the Ford of Whispering Snakes took longer
than
Cimorene expected. The trees of the Enchanted
Forest
grew dose together in many places, fordng the
dragons
to take a zigzag path instead of heading
straight
up the bank of the river. Woraug, who was in
the
lead, seemed to be deliberately setting a slow pace.
Cimorene
was sure he was hoping that the second shift
of
wizards would arrive at the blackberry clearing be-
fore
the dragons at the ford had been warned. She had
no idea
what would happen then, but she doubted that
it
would be good. The escort dragon was not interested
in Cimorene's
worries, however, and he refused to
speed
things up, so the group ambled on.
196
As they
approached the ford at last, they heard
cheering
ahead of them. Woraug flinched visibly, and
Alianora
and the stone prince were startled out of their
quiet
conversation.
"Whafs
that?" Alianora said.
"Sounds
to me as if we have a new King," their
escort
said with great satisfaction. "That means I can
get you
lot off my hands right away. What a relief! I
thought
I was going to be stuck with you for hours."
Alianora
looked faintly indignant at this unflatter-
ing
opinion. Morwen was merely amused. Woraug's
wings
sagged momentarily, but then he -seemed to pull
himself
back together, and he continued on as confi-
dently
as ever. Cimorene's concern deepened. What if
Woraug
managed to convince the new King that they
were
all lying?
They
reached the edge of the cheering crowd of
dragons.
"Who did it?" the escort dragon asked.
"Who's
the new King?"
"How
should I know?" the other responded. "I
can't
see a thing from way out here."
"You'll
find out soon enough, ".the escort dragon
said.
Then he raised his voice and shouted, "Make way!
Coming
through! Prisoners for the King! Make way!"
The
crowd of dragons parted reluctantly, and the
escort
dragon herded the group forward, still shouting.
They
made their way through the cheering dragons
until
they reached the edge of the river. "Stand away!"
shouted
someone in the crowd. "Stand away for the
King!"
The
nearby dragons drew back, leaving Woraug,
ip7
the
escort dragon, and Cimorene and her friends stand-
ing by
themselves on the trampled moss. As the drag-
ons
moved away, Cimorene caught sight of Kazul, lying
comfortably
beside the river. "Kazul!" Cimorene cried,
and ran
forward. "Are you all right?"
A
mottled dragon standing beside Kazul shifted
and
flicked his tail angrily at Cimorene. "You should
say
'Your Majesty,' " he said with a warning scowl.
"Don't
be ridiculous, Frax. She's my princess," Ka-
zul
said. "I'm quite all right, Cimorene. What are you
doing
here?"
"You're
the new King of the Dragons?" Cimorene
said in
astonishment. "But—but when you left this
morning,
you could barely fly! How did you get Colin's
Stone
all the way from here to the Vanishing
Mountain?"
"Colin's
Stone apparently does more than merely
pick
out the right King," Kazul said. "The minute I
picked
it up, I felt fine."
"This
is impossible!" Woraug said.
"Are
you accusing me of fraud?" Kazul asked
mildly.
"He'd
better not," Cimorene said. "He's the one
who was
cheating, with the help of Zemenar and the
rest of
the wizards."
"Really,"
Kazul said in tones of great interest.
"It's
all nonsense," Woraug declared. "The girl's
just
trying to attract attention."
"Really,"
Kazul said again, and smiled, displaying
all her
silver teeth.
"Oh,
come now, Kazul. Surely you won't take a
mere
princess's word over mine," Woraug said.
198
"That
depends entirely on what she says. Tell us
about
it. Princess," Kazul commanded.
So
Cimorene told them. She brought the stone
prince
forward to explain what he had overheard the
wizards
and Woraug discussing in the banquet hall,
and she
made Alianora tell everyone about melting
wizards
with wash water and lemon juice. She told
about
getting to the Ford of Whispering Snakes on the
first
feather and being unable to convince any of the
dragons
to listen to her. She told about going to Mor-
wen's
house to find out where the wizards were, and
about,using
the last feather to get to the wizards and
melt
them. She described Zemenar's unexpected ap-
pearance
and subsequent melting, and the way Mor-
wen had
broken the wizards' spell, and she finished
with an
account of Woraug's futile attack.
"And
then he landed"—Cimorene waved in the
direction
of the escort dragon—"and decided to bring
us all
back here. And I think somebody ought to go
back to
that clearing where the blackberries are be-
fore
the next batch of wizards arrives. I don't know
what
they'll do when they find out what's happened,
but
..."
"Yes,
I see," said Kazul. She turned to a pale green
dragon
beside her. "Take five or six of the younger
dragons—the
ones who've been talking about starting
a
wizard-hunt—and go have a look at this blackberry
clearing."
"Yes,
Your Majesty," said the pale dragon with a
fierce
grin.
"Surely
you don't believe this!" Woraug said.
Kazul
stared at Woraug without saying anything,
199
m^. "
and the
dragons around the edge of the circle rattled
their
scales.
"Ah—Your
Majesty," Woraug added hastily.
"Why
should I disbelieve it?" Kazul said, still
watching
Woraug.
"The
whole thing is preposterous!" Woraug said.
"How
could wizards do anything to affect Colin's
Stone?
Your Majesty."
Kazul
looked at Cimorene.
"I'm
sorry, Kazul," Cimorene said, shaking her
head.
"I know what the wizards were trying to do, but
I don't
have the slightest idea how they were doing it."
"I
believe I can explain that. Your Majesty," Mor-
wen
said. She stepped forward, tossing and catching
the
wizards' black rock casually in her right hand.
"They
were using this. I believe you'll find that it comes
from
the Caves of Fire and Night. From the King's
Cave,
in fact, where Colin's Stone was found. And one
of the
properties of the Caves of Fire and Night is that
you can
use one piece to cast spells which affect similar
pieces."
"Just
the way that impossible book says!" Cim-
orene
exclaimed.
"DeMontmorency?
Yes, I suppose he is fairly im-
possible,"
Morwen said.
"Is
this sufficiently similar to Colin's Stone that the
wizards
could have affected the stone through it?" Ka-
zul
asked.
"Certainly,
Your Majesty," Morwen said.
"This
is—" Woraug began.
"—ridiculous,
impossible, and unbelievable," Ka-
200
zul
said. "You've said that already. But I haven't heard
you say
anything particularly convincing in support of
that
attitude."
"Oh,
really. Your Majesty!" Woraug said. "Next
you'll
be saying I poisoned King Tokoz!"
"It
doesn't seem likely," Kazul admitted, "since
Tokoz
was poisoned with dragonsbane, and dragons
can't
get anywhere near the stuff without feeling the
effects."
"What
if Zemenar made a ... a dragonsbane-proof
packet
for him to cany it in?" Cimorene said, thinking
of the
bag Antorell had been carrying when she and
Alianora
met him in the valley. "Something that would
melt
when he dropped it in the King's coffee."
"I
suppose it's possible," Kazul said. "But there's
no evidence
at all that Zemenar did any such thing."
"What
would it have looked like?" Alianora asked
suddenly.
"Would it have been something like a very
large
tea bag?"
Everyone
turned to look at Alianora. "I think that
would
have worked quite well. Princess," Kazul said.
"Why
do you ask?"
"Because
Woraug had something like that with him
when he
went to see King Tokoz the night before the
King
was killed," Alianora said. "I saw it."
An
angry muttering ran through the crowd of
dragons.
"Lies!"
Woraug snarled. "They're all lies!"
"Are
they?" Kazul said coldly. "I don't think so.
You
must have wanted to be King very badly indeed."
"I—"
Woraug darted a glance around the circle of
201
dragons.
What he saw did not appear to reassure him.
"No!"
"Consorting
with wizards, killing the King, and
plotting
to cheat in the trials with Colin's Stone," Kazul
said as
if Woraug had not spoken. "Hardly proper be-
havior
for a dragon."
The
crowd muttered agreement. Cimorene looked
from Woraug
to Kazul and back. Woraug appeared to
be
terrified of something, but Cimorene could not tell
what it
was. He crouched and seemed to shrink away
from
Kazul, drawing his wings in close and making
himself
as small as possible. Cimorene blinked. It was
remarkable
how much smaller Woraug could make
himself
look. In fact . . .
"He's
shrinking!" Cimorene exclaimed.
"No!"
Woraug cried again, but it was much too
late.
He shrank faster and faster, his wings melting into
ridges
along his back and his claws retracting. He was
barely
as tall as Cimorene's shoulder. Then, with a
sudden
shiver, he collapsed in on himself. A small rain
of
scales pattered to the ground. A moment later, an
extremely
warty toad with angry red eyes crawled
clumsily
out of the center of the pile.
"Is
that—is that Woraug?" Alianora asked in a
hushed
tone.
The
toad turned and glared at her, and she stepped
back a
pace. The stone prince put a protective arm
around
Alianora's shoulders and glared back at the
toad.
"Behave,
or I'll step on you," he said.
"Yes,
it's Woraug," Kazul said. She sounded al-
202
most
sad. "That's what happens when a dragon stops
acting
like a dragon."
The
toad turned his glare in Kazul's direction, then
hopped
off and disappeared among the stones along
the
riverbank.
Alianora
shuddered. Kazul studied her for a mo-
ment.
"You were Woraug's princess, weren't you? I'm
sorry
about all this, but it couldn't be helped. It won't
take
long to find you another dragon."
"I
don't think you have to worry about finding her
another
dragon," Cimorene said. She had been watch-
ing
Alianora and the stone prince, and an idea had
occurred
to her.
"What?
Why not?" said Kazul.
"Because
the stone prince fought with Woraug,
and
Woraug certainly didn't win. Doesn't that mean
that he
gets to rescue Woraug's princess?"
"I'm
not sure the rules cover this situation at all,"
Kazul
said. "But it sounds reasonable enough, and un-
der the
circumstances I doubt that anyone will object.
Unless
of course she does."
"Oh!"
said Alianora, and blushed a rosy red. "No,
I don't
object at all!"
"Are
you sure?" the stone prince said anxiously.
"You
won't mind waiting a while to marry me? I mean,
if
you're willing to marry me? You needn't, you know,
if the
idea doesn't appeal to you."
"It
appeals to me very much," Alianora said, blush-
ing
redder than ever. "But why do you say that we
have to
wait?"
The
stone prince sighed. "I still have to find a king
203
and do
him a great service, and that's bound to take a
while."
"For
a young man as intelligent as you seem to
be,
you're remarkably foolish," Morwen commented.
"What
on earth do you think you've just done?"
An
expression of astonishment spread across the
prince's
face. "You mean the king I was supposed to
serve
is the King of the Dragons?"
"Exactly,"
Morwen said. "And I doubt that you
could
do her a greater service than saving the throne
from
Woraug's plotting."
"That's
settled, then," Kazul said. "Let's get the
rest of
the ceremonies finished and get back to the
mountains.
There's a great deal of work to be done."
The
dragons all bowed, and eddies of movement
began
in various sections of the crowd. Shortly, two
dragons
came forward carrying Colin's Stone. It looked
like a
long black log about three times as thick as Cim-
orene's
waist and twice as tall as she was. The dragons
laid it
in front of Kazul and backed away. Another
dragon
appeared, holding a large circlet made of iron,
'with
six spikes poking upward at intervals around the
rim.
Kazul set her front feet on the black stone, and
the
dragon set the circlet on her head. The crowd of
dragons
began cheering again, and after a few minutes
they
began forming a line to congratulate their new
King
and present their coronation gifts. Other dragons
set up
large tubs of wine and platters of meat and
cheese,
which were quickly surrounded.
In the
middle of the presentations, the dragons
Kazul
had sent off to the blackberry clearing returned,
204
and
Kazul took a short break from accepting congrat-
ulations
to hear what they had to say.
"The
wizards showed up before we'd been there
more
than ten minutes. Your Majesty," said the pale
green
dragon who was the leader of the group. "Six of
them,
just like your princess said."
"They
weren't happy to see us," the youngest
dragon
said smugly.
"I
would think not." Kazul smiled. "What did you
do with
them?"
"We
chased five of them away," the pale dragon
reported.
"I don't think they'll be back, either."
"Five?"
The
pale dragon shot a glance at the youngest of
the
group, who licked his lips and looked even more
smug
than before and said nothing. "Yes, Your
Majesty."
"I
see. Well, thafs more than enough evidence to
confirm
what Cimorene's told us," Kazul commented.
She
raised her voice. "The arrangement between the
dragons
and the Society of Wizards is hereby canceled.
From
now on, wizards will not be allowed anywhere
near
the Caves of Fire and Night, no matter what they
say."
Then she went back to accepting presents and
congratulations
from her new subjects.
Cimorene
watched the festivities with mixed feelings.
She was
very glad that Kazul was the new King of the
Dragons,
but she couldn't help wondering what effect
Kazul's
coronation would have on her own position.
The
King of the Dragons certainly wouldn't need a
princess
as a mark of status, and there would be plenty
of
younger dragons eager to cook and clean for their
King,
if only as a way of getting a start at the court.
Her
preoccupation stayed with her for the rest of
the
day, through the entire coronation picnic and the
flight
back to the Mountains of Morning. Cimorene and
Alianora
rode on the back of a very large dragon whose
scales
were such a dark green that they looked almost
black.
Alianora would have preferred to ride with the
stone
prince, but none of the dragons were willing to
take on
a second passenger if the stone prince was the
first.
All of the dragons had paid their respects to Kazul
at the
coronation, so the cave was empty when the
dragon
dropped Cimorene off. When Cimorene said
good-bye
to Alianora, she promised to come over and
help
her pack the following morning. Then she went
in and
waited for Kazul to come home.
Kazul
did not arrive until very late. She was stiil
wearing
the iron crown, and she looked very tired.
"Thank
goodness that's over," she said, taking the
crown
off and throwing it across the cave. It hit the
wall
and bounced off with a harsh clang.
"You
shouldn't treat your crown like that. Your
Majesty,"
Cimorene said, retrieving the iron circlet.
"Of
course I should," Kazul said. "It's expected.
That's
why we made it out of iron instead of something
soft
and bendable. And don't start calling me 'Your
Majesty.'
I've had enough of that for one day."
Cimorene
began to feel a little better. "What hap-
pens
next?"
"Tomorrow
we start moving," Kazul said and
sighed.
"It will probably take weeks. It's too bad there's
206
no way
of warning a new king in time to pack every-
thing
up before the work starts."
"Everything?"
Cimorene said in tones of dismay.
"Even
the library and the treasure vaults? But I've only
just
got them organized!"
"Everything,"
Kazul said. "And if you think
straightening
out things here was difficult, wait until
you see
the mess the official vaults are in."
"Oh,
dear," said Cimorene. "Is it very bad?"
Kazul
nodded. "I've just come from looking at it.
You'll
see for yourself tomorrow. There's a smallish
cave
next to the library that I think will do nicely for
you,
but I'd like you to look at it before we start hauling
things
around."
"You
mean you want me to stay?" Cimorene
blurted.
"But I thought the King of the Dragons didn't
need a
princess!"
"Don't
be ridiculous," Kazul said. "How am I
going
to get my cherries jubilee if you don't stay? And
you
haven't even started cataloguing the library, and
how
else am I going to get the King's treasure vaults
arranged
so I can find things? I'm not going to have
time to
do it."
"Won't
the rest of the dragons object?"
Kazul
snorted. "I'm the King. One of the advan-
tages
of being King is that nobody objects to whims like
keeping
a princess when you're not supposed to need
one. If
it bothers you, we'll give you a different title:
King's
Cook and Librarian, maybe. Stop worrying and
go to
sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day
for
both of us."
Cimorene
smiled and went off to her rooms with
K
'• 307
a light
heart. She slept soundly and was up early next
morning.
Kazul was already awake and supervising
three
of the younger dragons, who were packing up
the
treasure and the library. Since Cimorene was
pressed
into service at once, it was several hours before
she
could get away to keep her promise to Alianora.
"I'm
sorry I'm late," Cimorene apologized when
she
arrived at Woraug's cave at last. "But it didn't occur
to me
that Kazul would be moving, too, and she wanted
me to
help."
"Ifs
all right," Alianora assured her. "It wasn't as
big a
job as I'd expected, and the prince helped. I'm
almost
finished." She gestured at an almost-full suitcase
lying
open on the floor. On the other side of the room,
the
stone prince was stacking the empty drawers from
Alianora's
bureau.
"Well,
at least I got here in time to say good-bye,"
Cimorene
said.
"You're
staying with the dragons, then?" the stone
prince
asked, straightening with a frown. "Are you sure
you
want to do that?"
"Of
course she's sure," Alianora said. "Kazul's
going
to need her even more than she did before, and
Cimorene
wouldn't be happy in a normal kingdom."
"How
did you know that?" Cimorene said, staring
at
Alianora.
"It's
obvious. Linderwall is about as normal a king-
_ dom
as you can get. If you ran away from there, you
certainly
wouldn't be happy anywhere like it."
"I
didn't mean that part," Cimorene said, redden-
ing
slightly. "I meant about Kazul wanting me to stay."
"That
was obvious, too," Alianora said. "You're
208
the
only one who was worried about it." She studied
Cimorene
for a minute and shook her head. "I wouldn't
like
being princess for the King of the Dragons, but it
will
suit you down to the ground."
"\
think it will," Cimorene said, smiling.
"Then
maybe you can tell me something," the
stone
prince said. "What's being done about the wiz-
ards?"
"They've
been banned from the Mountains of
Morning,
and there are a hundred or so dragons out
checking
to make sure they've gone," Cimorene re-
plied.
"They haven't had much luck, I'm afraid. Most
of the
wizards left after the first few got eaten."
"That's
all?" asked the prince.
"What
else can the dragons do? The wizards didn't
actually
poison King Tokoz; Woraug did that. So there's
no
justification for an all-out attack on the headquarters
of the
Society of Wizards, even if all the dragons agreed
that
they wanted to do it. Which they don't."
"I
suppose you're right," the prince said. "But
you'd
better tell Kazul to keep a close eye on them.
Those
wizards will make more trouble just as soon as
they
figure out a way to do it."
"I
don't know about that," Cimorene said. "I think
Zemenar
was behind most of it, and you melted him."
"That's
it!" Alianora said, and snapped her fingers.
"I
almost forgot to tell you. Morwen and I talked for a
long
time yesterday, and she says that melting a wizard
isn't
permanent."
"You
mean they'll all come back?" Cimorene
asked.
Alianora
nodded. "It will take them a while,
209
though.
And Morwen said for you to come and visit
soon.
She thinks that in a few days she'll have figured
out a
way of melting wizards without dumping soapy
water
over them. 'A method thafs a little less slopp/
was the
way she put it."
"That
will be useful if the wizards start making
trouble
again," Cimorene said thoughtfully.
"Is
this everything, Alianora?" the stone prince
asked,
gesturing at the suitcase.
"Yes,
I think so." Alianora pulled the top of the
suitcase
over, and the stone prince set one foot very
gently
in the middle of it and pushed until the latch
clicked.
"Where
are you going first?" Cimorene asked. "His
kingdom
or yours?"
"Neither,"
Alianora said, smiling. "We're going to
Morwen's.
She said she could change him back from
stone
to normal. We asked Kazul last night if we could
go out
through the Caves of Fire and Night, and she
said
yes, so . . ."
"I
don't know, Alianora," the stone prince said.
"I'm
beginning to get used to myself this way. And
there
are certain advantages."
"There
are disadvantages, too," Alianora said,
blushing
slightly.
Cimorene
began to giggle.
Alianora's
blush deepened. "I mean—uh—how are
you
going to get rid of that chip in your sleeve if you
can't
change clothes?"
"I
think I see what you're getting at," the stone
prince
replied, eyeing Alianora meditatively. "And
210
you're
quite right. There's no comparison. We had bet-
ter see
Morwen as quickly as possible."
Alianora
and Cimorene looked at each other and
burst
into unstoppable giggles.
The
stone prince blinked at them. "It's not funny!"
he said
indignantly, which only made them giggle
harder.
Shaking his head, he waited for them to stop,
then
picked up Alianora's suitcase. "Shall we go?"
Cimorene
walked with them to the iron gate that
led
into the Caves of Fire and Night. A purplish dragon
was
waiting to guide them through the caves. Kazul
was
taking no chances on Alianora and the stone prince
getting
lost. Cimorene hugged them both and wished
them a
safe journey.
"And
I hope you both live happily ever after!"
"I
hope you do, too!" Alianora called back as she
and the
stone prince followed the dragon through the
gate.
Cimorene
watched until they were out of sight,
then
started back toward Kazul's cave. She thought
about
Morwen, and the wizard-melting spell, and about
Zemenar
and Antorell and the other wizards who
would
somehow be back soon. She thought about Ka-
zul,
and about straightening out the treasure vaults that
belonged
to the King of the Dragons, and about all the
hundreds
of books in the King's library, and of all the
problems
that the King of the Dragons would have to
deal
with. She thought about Alianora's last words and
smiled.
Happily
ever after? Cimorene wasn't sure about that,
though
she was certainly hoping to enjoy herself. She
211
was
positive, however, that life with the dragons woud
be
interesting and busy, and in Cimorene's opinion that
would
go a long way toward making her happy.
"Happily
ever after? I don't think it's quite what
you
meant, Alianora," Cimorene murmured to the
empty
tunnel, "but one way or another, I rather think
I
will."
212