too.â
âEven so . . .â
Morwen thought for a minute. âThe only thing you can do is avoid talking about magic with him,â she said at last. âHeâs reasonably clear when it comes to normal conversation, but as soon as anyone mentions spells he gets technical. Or you could make sure Kazul is always with you.â
âYes, Iâd noticed that Telemain doesnâtââ
A distant bray interrupted Cimorene in midsentence. âGood heavens,â she said. âWhat on earth was that?â
âKiller,â Morwen said, walking more quickly. âUnless youâve acquired a donkey since the last time I was here.â
âA donkey? No, butââ
As they rounded the last corner and came in sight of the kitchen, Cimorene stopped short. The cook stood in the half-open kitchen door, brandishing a copper frying pan to keep Killer from forcing his way inside, while Scorn and Jasper watched from the safety of a nearby window ledge. Midway between the kitchen and the moat, Kazul sat on her haunches, smiling down at the terrified blue donkey in amusement. Since the smile showed a fair number of teeth, it wasnât helping Killerâs state of mind at all.
âKiller,â Morwen said sternly. âStop that this instant.â
âBut itâs a
dragon!
â Killer wailed. âAnd itâs
right there!
Eee-augh!â
The cook glanced toward them, gasped, and dropped the frying pan. âYour Majesty!â
Taking full advantage of the cookâs distraction, Killer flung himself forward. He hit the door with a thud, shoving it wide and knocking the cook over backwards. As his head and front feet disappeared inside the kitchen, a cat yowled loudly in surprise and pain.
âFiddlesticks!â Morwen said. âThat does it.â She raised her arms.
Â
âSky and sea and whirling sands,
Stop that creature where he stands!â
Â
On the final word, she brought both hands down in a swift chopping gesture. Killer stopped moving and gave a startled bellow. An instant later, Fiddlesticks shot out from between the donkeyâs legs. Morwen breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
âHe stepped on my
tail!
â Fiddlesticks said with great indignation. He sat down at Kazulâs feet and began energetically washing the offended part.
âIâm surprised it wasnât your nose,â Scorn said. âYou poke it into enough peculiar places.â
âHelp! Hee-eeau-elp!â Killer cried. âIâm going to be eaten!â
âGet this creature out of my kitchen!â the cook yelled as he scrambled to his feet.
âQuiet, all of you,â said Cimorene, edging her way through the narrow gap between Killerâs rear end and the door frame. Since Fiddlesticks seemed more or less unharmed, Morwen followed Cimorene inside. Killer continued to moan and whimper despite Cimoreneâs order, but he at least stopped braying.
Inside, Cimorene glanced around the kitchen, which was nearly as clean and tidy as Morwenâs, and nodded to the cook. The cook bowed deeply. Cimorene turned to Killer. âNobody is going to eat anyone here unless I say so. Now, how did this happen?â
âJust how youâd expect,â Scorn said from the window. âKiller was being stupid again.â
âIâm not stupid,â Killer said. âEee-eeaugh! Oh, help!â
âI said
quiet,
â Cimorene said.
âBut I canât move, and thereâs a dragonââ
âI can arrange it so you canât talk, either,â Morwen said. âAnd if you donât start behaving yourself, Iâll do it. Cimorene, this is Killer. He ought to be a rabbit of the usual size and color, but heâs had some trouble with wizards lately. This is Cimorene, the Queen of the Enchanted Forest. I think you should answer her question.â
Killer rolled his eyes and waggled his ears, managing to look