“That’s your problem,” Cimorene told him. “I’m going to go fix dinner. Goodbye.” Before he could say anything else, she turned and ducked back into the cave, hoping the prince wouldn’t follow.

3

In Which Cimorene Meets a Witch and Has Doubts About a Wizard

THERANDIL LEFT, BUT HE CAME BACK AGAIN the next day, and the day after that. It got so that Cimorene could not even step outside the cave without running into him. She might have been flattered if it hadn’t been so obvious that Therandil was only worried about how foolish he’d look if he went home without fighting the dragon. On his fifth visit Cimorene was very sharp with him, and when he had not returned by midafternoon of the next day, she began to hope that he had finally left for good.

Cimorene was in the kitchen taking the pits out of cherries when she heard someone knocking at the mouth of the cave.

“Go away,” she shouted in complete exasperation. “I’ve told you and told you, I don’t want to be rescued, and I’m not going to argue with you any more!”

“I didn’t come here to argue,” said a no-nonsense female voice from outside. “I came to meet the person who keeps borrowing my crepe pan. It’s not something there’s normally much call for.”

“Oh, dear,” said Cimorene. She wiped her hands hastily on a corner of her apron and hurried out to greet her visitor. “I’m sorry,” she said, coming around the gray rock at the cave mouth. “But I’ve been having a problem with knights lately, and I thought—” She stopped short as she got a good look at her caller for the first time.

The woman standing outside the cave was considerably shorter than Cimorene. Her ginger hair was piled in waves on top of her head. She had on a loose black robe with long sleeves, which she wore unbelted. A small pair of glasses with rectangular lenses sat firmly on her nose, and she carried an extremely twiggy broom in her left hand. Despite her unusual appearance, she projected an air of great self-assurance.

“I quite understand,” she said, studying Cimorene shrewdly. “You must be Kazul’s new princess.”

“Yes, I’m Cimorene. And you are . . . ?”

“Morwen,” said the black-robed woman, leaning the broom against the rock. “Kazul and I have been friends for a long time, ever since I moved to the Enchanted Forest, so I thought I’d come have a look at her new princess.”

“You’re the person Kazul’s been borrowing dishes from, aren’t you?” Cimorene said, and blinked. “But then you must be—”

“A witch,” Morwen finished. “I don’t see why you find it surprising. It’s not exactly an unusual profession in these parts.”