"I beg your pardon," Mendanbar said with dignity. "As the ruler of the Enchanted Forest, there are sometimes matters that require my immediate attention. I have dealt with this one."
Zemenar frowned, plainly taken aback. "You have? But I didn't sense any spell-" He stopped short, staring at Mendanbar in consternation.
"You would not," Mendanbar said in an offhand manner. Inwardly, he smiled. Apparently wizards could feel normal spell-casting, but they could not sense Mendanbar's way of doing magic. He wondered why no one had ever mentioned it. Undetectable spells could be a big advantage, if he ever had trouble with the Society of Wizards. "It was not exactly a spell, just something to do with the forest forces. It need not concern you."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Zemenar said after a long pause. "If I may continue?"
"Please do."
"What we are asking is that you allow the wizards of our society to enter the Caves of Fire and Night from the Enchanted Forest," Zemenar said. "There is a way in somewhere along your eastern border, I believe."
"Yes, but it doesn't stay put," Mendanbar pointed out. "Nothing in the Enchanted Forest does, at least, not for long."
"It's always in the same general area, though," Zemenar said confidently.
"We're willing to take whatever time is needed to find it."
Mendanbar thought of the enormous number of knots and tangles that the wizards would cause while they wandered around looking for the entrance to the caves, and he could barely suppress a shudder. "What about the dragons?"
"If you have no authority over them, they can have none over your gateway into the Caves of Fire and Night," Zemenar said, watching Mendanbar closely with his hard, bright eyes.
"That's not what I meant." Mendanbar paused, pretending to consider.
"I think I must refuse your request, temporarily at least," he said in as judicious a tone as he could manage. "I have certain… differences of my own to settle with the King of the Dragons at the moment. From what you say, the dragons would object if I let your wizards into the Caves of Fire and Night, and I do not want to make my discussion with them any more difficult than it is likely to be already. I hope you understand."
"Ah." A fleeting expression of satisfaction flicked across Zemenar's face. "I am sorry to hear that you, too, are having trouble with dragons. I hope you will be able to settle things suitably. They are sly creatures, you know, and one can never tell what they are thinking."
The same thing could be said about the Head Wizard of the Society of Wizards, thought Mendanbar. "Thank you for your kind wishes," he said aloud.
"If you would like our assistance, the Society of Wizards would be happy to advise you," Zemenar said with a smile. "We have had a great deal of experience with dragons over the years."
"I appreciate the offer," Mendanbar replied cautiously. He did not want to offend the Head Wizard, but he doubted that the wizards' advice would help him much. After all, they seemed to be having more trouble with dragons than he was.
"Have you met the new King of the Dragons or her princess?" the Head Wizard went on.
"No, I-princess?" Mendanbar forgot his misgivings in a wave of surprised dismay. "The King of the Dragons has a princess?"
"She does indeed," Zemenar said. There was a faint frown in his eyes, and his fingers were stroking his staff again. "She's a real troublemaker, too-the princess, I mean. Our misunderstanding with the dragons is all her fault."
"Oh, lord," Mendanbar said. He raised a hand to run his fingers through his hair and remembered just in time that he was wearing his circlet. "And King Kazul listens to her?"
"Certainly. Most of the dragons do, now. Cimorene is quite the power behind the throne in the Mountains of Morning."
There was a sneer in Zemenar's voice, along with a good deal of suppressed anger. Mendanbar couldn't blame him. He'd had enough trouble with princesses himself to know the type. Cimorene must be one of the beautiful, empty-headed, ambitious bores whose only talents were the ability to stare innocently with their blue eyes and a knack for wrapping people-or, in Cimorene's case, dragons-around their fragile fingers. She was probably too stupid to realize how much trouble her manipulations caused, but if she did notice she probably liked having the power to produce turmoil.
"Oh, lord," Mendanbar repeated. Why hadn't Morwen warned him?
Well, he had to talk to Kazul, one way or another. Perhaps Morwen had heard about his aversion to princesses and hadn't wanted to give him any reason to put off the visit. Mendanbar looked at Zemenar, completely in charity with the wizard for the first time. "Thank you for telling me."
"You're very welcome," Zemenar said. "You will let me know how things go, won't you? And do remember that the Society of Wizards will be happy to give you whatever help you may need. It's in our own interest, after all. The sooner you get this little matter settled, the sooner you'll be able to reconsider our request about the Caves of Fire and Night."
"Yes, certainly," Mendanbar said. "Is that all, then? I'll have Willin show you out."
"That won't be necessary." Zemenar gave Mendanbar a smile that set Mendanbar's teeth on edge. "I am a wizard, after all. Good day, Your Maj Zemenar bowed and was suddenly and completely gone. No, not completely; Mendanbar could feel a lump of magic in the center of the looping spell where Zemenar had been standing. Mendanbar frowned. He might appreciate Zemenar's warning about Kazul's Princess, but that was no reason for the wizard to go leaving leftover bits of magic in his castle.
Mendanbar reached for the loop, to undo it, and paused. As long as he was at home, he might as well do this the easy way. He twitched a different strand of magic, and the audience chamber dissolved around him.
He materialized in the cool darkness of the castle armory. Lighting the wall torches with another twitch of the magic threads, he looked around. Willin had been hard at work since the last time Mendanbar had visited the armory.
Most of the swords and shields that had been piled in one corner or another were now hanging in neat pairs on the walls. Extra swords, spears, maces, lances, and knives hung in closely spaced rows higher up. The effect was almost decorative. Mendanbar made a mental note to compliment Willin, then turned his attention toward the wooden chests along the far wall.
The one he wanted was in the center. He reached into his pocket for the key and realized he had left it in his desk. He sighed and snapped his fingers. With a small pop, the key appeared in the air level with his nose and fell into his palm. Mendanbar smiled at it and bent to open the chest. Willin was always after him to have a proper set of keys made for the various doors and drawers and chests and hiding places in the castle, but Mendanbar couldn't see any reason to waste the effort when the Key to the Castle was all you needed to open any lock in the place.
It wasn't as if Willin needed a spell to call the Key, either, Mendanbar thought as he lifted the lid of the chest. The Key had its own magic. As long as it was inside the castle, it came to whoever called it. Willin just wanted to puff up his own consequence by carrying a big bunch of keys jangling at his belt. Mendanbar looked down and forgot about Willin.
There was only one thing in the chest: a sword, gleaming in the torchlight.
It was very plain, almost ordinary-looking, and it didn't have an air of magic about it at all, though anyone who looked at it closely would notice that it shone too brightly and had too sharp an edge to be an ordinary sword. Mendanbar reached in and took the hilt in his hand with a sigh of satisfaction. In the air around him, the unseen strands of power hummed in response, for this sword was linked to the warp and weft of the Enchanted Forest in ways no one, not even the Kings of the Enchanted Forest , really understood. Mendanbar always felt better when he had the sword with him, but he couldn't wear it around the castle all the time. It made Willin unhappy and visitors nervous. So he kept the sword in the armory unless he could think of an excuse to use it.
Rising, he swung the sword twice, just for fun. Then he hunted around until he found a sword belt and scabbard, put the sword in the sheath, and buckled the belt around his waist. With another wave of his hand, he was back in the audience chamber.
The awkward lump of wizard-magic was right where Mendanbar had left it.
He studied it for a moment, then drew his sword.
"Your Majesty!" said Willin from the doorway. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up after our visitor," Mendanbar replied. "Do be quiet for a minute, Willin. I need to concentrate."
"But-" Mendanbar shot an irritated look at Willin. The castle steward broke off and closed his mouth into a thin, disapproving line.
Mendanbar waited half a moment longer to make sure the elf was not going to say anything else, then turned back to the lump. Raising the sword, he reached over the loop of Enchanted Forest magic and stuck the point into the center of the mass.
A surge of power ran through the sword as it sucked up the wizard's leftovers and sent them to reinforce the invisible network of Enchanted Forest magic. The surge was stronger than Mendanbar had expected, and he frowned as he lifted the sword away from the now-empty space and put it back in its sheath. Perhaps it hadn't been extra, unused magic, after all; perhaps Zemenar had deliberately left a spell behind. It was too late to test it now, though. The sword was thorough, and whatever the lump had been, it was now gone for good.
"Your Majesty?"
Willin's voice sounded much more tentative than it had a moment before. Mendanbar almost smiled, but Willin was sure to get upset if he thought he was being laughed at. So Mendanbar kept his face stiff and took a little longer than necessary to undo the loop he had left to guard the wizard's magic. When he was positive that his expression was normal, he turned.
"Yes, Willin?"
"What was all that about? Has my lord the Head Wizard gone? Why are you wearing your sword? What-" "One thing at a time," Mendanbar interrupted gently. "Zemenar has gone, yes. He cast a vanishing spell, and a very good one, too. No smoke, no whirling dust, just poof and he was gone. Unfortunately, he wasn't as tidy with the end of his spell, and some of it got left behind. Or at least, that's what I thought until I got rid of it a minute ago."
"I… see," Willin said in a tone that meant he didn't. "And that's why you have your sword?"
"Partly." Mendanbar looked at the empty patch of floor where the wizard had been, then shook his head. Whatever Zemenar might have been up to, it would have to wait. "I have to pay a visit to the King of the Dragons."