"They got away, didn't they? If they tell someone what they saw-" "They won't," Zemenar said.
"How can you be sure of that?"
Zemenar gave a snort. "Because of who they are. Can't you recognize a Wicked Uncle when you see one? He was probably here to drop the boy somewhere in the Enchanted Forest . He isn't going to tell anyone about us.
And even if he does, what of it? Everyone knows odd things happen in the Enchanted Forest. His story will only be one more."
Mendanbar was at the end of the stone columns, close enough to see the wizards if he peeked around a pillar. There were ten of them, grouped about a small table at one side of an enormous cavern. Zemenar and two others were seated; the rest leaned against the wall of the cave or stood in clumps close by. High above the wizards, hundreds of long, cone-shaped columns hung like stone icicles from the ceiling. Four torches dangled from iron brackets on the wall and a lamp stood in the center of the table, throwing shadows like dark fangs from the hanging rocks.
Partway across the cavern, a pale golden glow cut across the shadows like a drawn curtain. On the other side of the glow was a dragon, her wings folded along her back, her eyes narrowed to slits. Mendanbar recognized her at once, even without Cimorene's hiss. She was the same dragon they had seen in the magic window at the dwarfs house-Kazul, the King of the Dragons.
Mendanbar blew out the lantern and set it on the floor. They didn't need it anymore anyway. They were near enough to see by the light of the wizards' torches, even in the shadows. Carrying their buckets, Cimorene, Morwen, and Telemain slipped behind nearby pillars as another wizard came around the corner from the far end of the cave.
"Most gracious and powerful Head Wizard," he said, bowing to Zemenar.
"We've checked everything at least twice. There's no one outside and no sign of anyone coming. That spell Xinamon felt before must have been some sort of normal variation."
Behind the pillars, Mendanbar winced. The wizards had noticed the locating spell he had sent out earlier. Cimorene frowned and shook her head at him, but he wasn't sure what she meant by that. Morwen scowled at them both and put her finger to her lips.
"Possibly," Zemenar replied. "I don't want to take any chance, though.
The King of the Enchanted Forest has a certain amount of magic, and we don't fully understand it. Call in a few more wizards, just to make sure."
"If you don't want to take chances, we ought to use up the dragon now and get out of here," Dizenel said.
"I'm with you," the most recent arrival agreed. "Dragons make me nervous. Are you sure she can't get out?"
"If she could, she'd have done so right away," Zemenar said. "Don't worry about it. We've put the power of at least an acre of the Enchanted Forest into building that shield, and no one can lower it except us."
"Are you sure?" the wizard persisted.
"Take a closer look, if you're not satisfied," Zemenar said, waving at the glow.
"It's impressive," the wizard said, moving nearer. "But with a spell this new, how can you be positive-Say, what's that?"
At their companion's change in tone, the wizards' heads swiveled to look at Kazul. For a frozen moment, no one spoke. Then a wizard at the back said, "It's a cat."
Mendanbar glanced sideways in time to see Morwen shake her head and take a firmer grip on her bucket of soapy water. He grimaced. They had only six buckets of soapy water among them, and there were already eleven wizards in the cave. If it came to a fight, they would be badly outnumbered.
"How did a cat get inside the shield?" another wizard asked. "It wasn't there yesterday."
"It wasn't there a few hours ago," Dizenel said. "Where did it come from?"
"Spread out and search the cave," Zemenar commanded, rising. "And bring in the dragonsbane. Someone's snooping."
The wizards fanned out across the cavern and started toward the forest of pillars. There was no way Mendanbar and the others could get away without being seen, even if they had been willing to abandon Kazul to her fate. Mendanbar drew his sword. Soapy water or not, he felt better with a weapon in his hand.
As the first wizard reached the pillars, he jerked in surprise, then raised his staff. Before he could release whatever spell he had planned, a shower of soapy water drenched him from head to foot. The wizard shrieked loudly.
"Blast you six ways from next Wednesday!" he shouted as he began to melt. "This is the second time you've liquefied me! May you and your pet dragon and your triple-cursed wash water turn purple with orange spots and fall down a bottomless pit!"
The other wizards stopped in their tracks. "It's Cimorene!" one of them said nervously.
"That's Princess Cimorene, to you," Cimorene said, stepping out from behind a pillar. She held her second bucket in plain sight, ready to throw.
"Stay back," Zemenar ordered. "Blast her from a distance."
"Cowards!" Cimorene taunted, and ducked behind another of the stone columns. "Come and get me!"
It wasn't going to work, Mendanbar told himself, taking a firmer grip on his sword. Zemenar was too clever to let his wizards chase Cimorene into the maze of stone. They would stay at a safe distance and throw bolts of power into the pillars until they destroyed the maze or killed everyone in it, or both.
Three more wizards came running in. Zemenar stopped them with a gesture. The rest of the wizards backed away from the pillars and lined up across the width of the cave.
"Now, then," the Head Wizard said, lifting his staff and pointing it at the pillar Cimorene had ducked behind. "Take this."
Mendanbar felt magic swell around the end of the staff. An instant later, before he had time to reach for the magic himself, the spell shot forward and exploded, shattering the pillar and sending chips of rock flying in all directions.
"Ow!" Cimorene's voice cried from somewhere in the shadows.
Without thinking, Mendanbar stepped out from behind his pillar, bucket in one hand, sword in the other, into full view of the wizards. "Over here!" he called. If he could distract them for a minute or two, perhaps Cimorene could get safely behind another column.
"Mendanbar!" For an instant, Zemenar looked thoroughly startled.
Then he smiled nastily. "How nice to see you. I've been hoping you would turn up, so we could finish this little business at last."
As he spoke, Zemenar stepped forward and shifted his staff to point at Mendanbar. Mendanbar raised his sword and stayed where he was. He felt magic building around the staff once more and decided not to wait to find out what Zemenar intended it to become. Instead, he reached out through the sword and touched the wizard's spell, the same way he touched the magic threads of the Enchanted Forest.
It was much easier to do here than it had been in the Mountains of Morning. The sword sopped up the spell in an instant. Mendanbar could sense the channels of power Zemenar had been using to feed his spell, and he touched those, too, and pulled. The sword obligingly drank them in.
"What are you doing?" Zemenar cried in astonishment, lowering his staff. His hair stood out around his head, as wild and tangled as the magical mess he'd left on the floor of Mendanbar's castle.
"I'm stopping you," Mendanbar said. His whole arm tingled with the power the sword had absorbed. If he could just think of the right thing to do with it…
"And a good thing, too," Morwen said from several pillars over.
"You're too greedy for your own good, or anyone else's, for that matter."
"I am not greedy," Zemenar protested angrily. "I have every right to-" "You're greedy, all right," Cimorene said from just behind Mendanbar.
"And you wouldn't know what to do with all the power you want even if you got it. Just look at you! Your hair's like a bird's nest."
Zemenar scowled. Mendanbar stared at him without really seeing him, trying to remember why Cimorene's words sounded familiar.
"The gargoyle!" he said suddenly. "Why didn't I think of that before?"
"What gargoyle?" one of the wizards asked.