Dealing with Dragons: Chapters 9–11

Passing through the King’s Cave seemed easier going in the opposite direction, and the impenetrable darkness only descended once.

“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 turned back to the jinn and saw that he, too, was looking perturbed. “What’s the matter with you?” she said crossly.

“Therandil!” Cimorene said in exasperation. “Shut up!”

“Thinkest thou that the granting 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 thousand years has such a thing occurred!”

Therandil brightened perceptibly at this description but said, “But everyone expects me to rescue you.”

“All right, then,” Therandil said. “As long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Cimorene assured him fervently.

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...."

Lichens covered the weathered gray rocks that rose above the valley, and small plants grew in cracks and crevices that showed no sign of the touch of dragon fire.

Lichens covered the weathered gray rocks that rose above the valley, and small plants grew in cracks and crevices that showed no sign of the touch of dragon fire.

“I don’t understand,” she said instead, batting her eyes at him.
“Of course not,” Antorell replied in a condescending tone that made Cimorene’s teeth hurt.

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.

Kazul continued to sleep for most of the next three days. She woke only long enough for Cimorene to pour a couple of gallons of warm milk mixed with honey down her throat from time to time before she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“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 messenger to my father’s court.”

“As long as I didn’t pick a king to serve, all the messengers and ambassadors and envoys stayed, hoping to persuade me."