Wrede, Patricia C - Enchanted Forest 02 by Searching for Dragons Page B

were careful about it. The mountain rose straight up behind the cave mouth. Set in the stone over the center of the opening was an outline of a spiky black crown.
    As Mendanbar drew nearer, he saw a tarnished brass handle sticking out of a small hole beside the cave. The handle was level with his waist, and next to it was a sign that read: “WELCOME TO THE CAVE OF THE DRAGON KING. Pull handle to ring bell.” On the line below, someone had added in neat letters printed in bright red paint, “ABSOLUTELY NO wizards, salespeople, or rescuers. This means YOU.”
    Mendanbar stared at the sign for a minute and began to smile. No wonder Zemenar didn’t like Kazul’s princess. Well, he wasn’t a wizard, he wasn’t selling anything, and he certainly didn’t want to rescue anybody. He gave the handle a pull.
    Somewhere inside the cave, a bell rang. “Well, it’s about time,” said a woman’s voice, and Mendanbar’s heart sank. He heard footsteps coming toward the mouth of the cave, and the same voice continued, “I was hoping you’d get here before I left. The sink is—”
    The speaker came out of the cave, took a look at Mendanbar, and broke off in midsentence. “Oh, no, not another one,” she said.
    Mendanbar stared at her in utter bafflement. If this was a princess, she was like no princess he had ever seen, and he had seen dozens. True, she had a small gold crown pinned into her hair, and she was very pretty—beautiful, in fact—but she was wearing a blue-and-white checked apron with large pockets. Mendanbar had never seen a princess in an apron before. The dress under the apron was rust-colored and practical-looking, and she had the sleeves rolled up above her elbows. He had never seen a princess with her sleeves rolled up, either. Her jet black hair hung in plain braids almost to her knees, instead of making a cloud of curls around her face. Her eyes were black, too, and she was as tall as Mendanbar.
    “Well?” she said in an exasperated tone. “Are you going to stand there like a lump, or are you going to tell me what you want? Although I think I already know.”
    “Excuse me,” Mendanbar said. He pulled himself together and bowed uncertainly. “I think there’s been some sort of mistake. I’m looking for Kazul, the King of the Dragons.”
    “I’ll bet you are,” the young woman muttered. “Well, you can’t have her. I handle my own knights and princes.”
    “I beg your pardon?” Mendanbar said, blinking.
    He was beginning to think the mistake was his. This young woman didn’t look like a princess (except for the crown), she didn’t act like a princess, and she didn’t talk like a princess. But if she wasn’t a princess, what was she doing here?
    “I handle my own knights,” she repeated. “You see, I don’t want to be rescued, and it would be silly for someone to get hurt fighting Kazul when I intend to stay here no matter what happens. Besides, Kazul has enough to do being King of the Dragons without people interrupting her to fight for no reason.”
    “You really are Kazul’s princess”—what had Zemenar said her name was? Oh, yes—”Cimorene?”
    “Yes, of course. Look, I haven’t got time to argue about this, not today. Could you please go away and come back in, oh, a week or so, when things are a little more settled? Or I can direct you to a more cooperative princess, if you’d rather not wait. Marchak has a very nice one just now, and he lives quite close by.”
    “No, I’m afraid not,” Mendanbar said. He was beginning to think Willin had been right to say he should wait for a formal audience. “You see, I didn’t come to rescue you, or anybody. I’m the King of the Enchanted Forest, and I really did come to talk to Kazul. And it’s urgent. So—”
    “Oh, drat,” said Cimorene. “Are you sure it can’t wait? Kazul isn’t here right now.”
    “I’ll wait for her,” Mendanbar said with polite firmness. “As I said, the matter is urgent.”
    Cimorene frowned