"Wrede,.Patricia.C.-.Chronicles.Of.The.Enchanted.Forest.v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

before they made up their minds about eating her. She felt behind her
for the door and started in surprise when her fingers touched damp
stone instead of dry wood. Then a third voice said, "Not so fast,
Woraug. Let's hear her story first."

So Cimorene took a deep breath and began to explain about the fencing
lessons and the magic lessons, and the Latin and the juggling, and all
the other things that weren't considered proper behavior for a
princess, and she

told the voices that she had run away from Sathem-by-the-Mountains to
keep from having to marry Prince Therandil.

"And what do you expect us to do about it?" one of the voices asked
curiously.

"I don't know," Cimorene said. "Except, of course, that I would rather
not be eaten. I can't see who you are in this dark, you know."

"That can be fixed," said the voice. A moment later, a small ball of
light appeared in the air above Cimorene's head. Cimorene stepped
backward very quickly and ran into the wall.

The voices belonged to dragons.

Five of them lay on or sprawled over or curled around the various rocks
and columns that filled the huge cave where Cimorene stood. Each of
the males (there were three) had two short, stubby, sharp-looking horns
on either side of their heads; the female dragon had three, one on each
side and one in the center of her forehead. The last dragon was
apparently still too young to have made up its mind which sex it wanted
to be; it didn't have any horns at all.

Cimorene felt very frightened. The smallest of the dragons was easily
three times as tall as she was, and they gave an overwhelming
impression of shining green scales and sharp silver teeth. They were
much scarier in person than in the pictures she remembered from her
natural history books.

She swallowed very hard, wondering whether she really would rather be
eaten by a dragon than marry Therandil.

"Well?" said the three-horned dragon just in front of her. 'Just what
are you asking us to do for you?"

"I-" Cimorene stopped short as an idea occurred to her. Cautiously,
she asked, "Dragons are . . . are fond of princesses, aren't they?"

"Very," said the dragon, and smiled. The smile showed all her teeth,
which Cimorene did not find reassuring.