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Dealing With Dragons Page 7


  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. 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 previous 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 corners 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.

  6

  In Which the Wizards Do Some Snooping, and Cimorene Snoops Back

  FOR 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 mountains. Alianora found a little jar of hippopotamus oil among the cosmetics left by her predecessor. The unicorn 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. Fortunately, 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 claws, 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 ingredients 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, 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 Historia Dracorum 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 wizard’s, except for the colors. His eyes were the same bright black as his companion’s, and he looked at Cimorene in a way that made her feel uneasy.

  “Good morning to you, Princess Cimorene,” Zem­enar said. “I thought I would take you up on your kind invitation to visit. I hope we haven’t come at an inconvenient time?”

  “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. Cim­orene 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 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 inside the mouth of the cave and gave the wizards her sweetest and most innocent smile. “You can leav
e your staffs right here. Just lean them up against the wall.”

  Antorell looked considerably startled, and Zemenar 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 whenever 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.”

  “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, suspicious 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 willing to show us around?”

  Cimorene thought very rapidly. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to learn anything if the wizards just sat at the kitchen table and drank tea, so she decided to take a chance. “Well,” she said in a doubtful tone, “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 insincerely.

  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 Antorell 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 sideways, 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 bookshelves 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, 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 contemptuous. “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 closing 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 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 everything’s all right.”

  “I think it’s time we were on our way,” Zemenar said, giving his son a dark look. “Thank you for showing 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 Zemenar had been looking at. She was still there when Kazul arrived home and called for her.

  “That wizard Zemenar finally came, and he brought his son along with him,” Cimorene said as she came out of the library.

  “I know,” said Kazul. Her voice sounded a little thick, as if she had a cold. “I could smell them the minute I came in.”

  “Is that why you sound so odd?” Cimorene asked. “You’re not going to sneeze, are you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kazul replied. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have plenty of time to turn my head away.”

  “I wish I could get hold of some hens’ teeth,” Cimorene said, frowning. “That fireproofing spell—”

  “Have you looked in the treasure rooms?” Kazul asked.

  “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, it’s 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 Zemenar 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 concluded. “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 bookmark,” Cimorene replied. “I was just looking at it when you came in. It’s 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 somebody finding a stone in the caves so that the dragons 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 fir
st 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,” Cimorene 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.”

  “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,” Cimorene 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 it’s 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.”