Introduction

The princess rode up to the entrance of the dragon's cave. Great clouds of steam rolled forth from the dark cavern. Undaunted, the princess dismounted and crept closer. The dragon could destroy her with one blast of his fiery flames. Slipping into the cave, she bravely drew her sword.

"Gwen!" a voice called. "Gwenna! Are you finished with your homework yet?"

Gwen sighed, giving up her daydream and pulling her math book closer. "In a minute! I'm on the last problem!"

"Hurry up!" her mother called. "You still have to clean your room!"

Gwen erased the last problem and started over. "I wish I really was a princess!" she muttered. "Princesses in fairy tales never have to do homework. And they have servants to do their chores."

"Gwen! Don't forget to take out the trash!" called her mother.

Gwen slammed the math book shut. "And they never, ever have to take out the trash!" She cleaned her room by her usual method of throwing everything in the closet, and then stomped around the apartment emptying trashcans into a big sack.

In her mother's room, a box slid sideways out of the trash basket, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Rats!" Gwen muttered, and then stared in surprise at the sparkling mess. Necklaces, earrings, and bracelets were spilled across the carpet.

"Mom," she called, "did you mean to throw all this jewelry away?"

"Yes, it's just old jewelry of grandma's, help yourself if you want."

"It looks like some kind of ancient writing," she thought, "but it's probably just decoration." She slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly. She decided to keep it, even though it was slightly tarnished.

"Can I have this ring, Mom?" she asked. "Let's see," said her mother, "Why, that's not one of grandma's--oh, I remember, that's the one I found under your bed the other day. I meant to ask you if it was yours. I don't know how it got in that box."

"It's not mine," said Gwen in surprise. " But I'll keep it anyway."

"Fine," said her mother, "but how about finishing with the trash?"

"Oooh!" Gwen gritted her teeth. She lugged it across the parking lot to a big dumpster, pretending that she was giving it to one of her servants.

"Take this trash out of my sight, Parkinson, and never let it darken my door again!" she cried dramatically, heaving the sack into the dumpster.

"Nice shot!" said a voice behind her.

Gwen whirled around, her face red. A boy she had never seen stood watching her. He was holding several cardboard boxes.

"I.I didn't know anyone was around," she stammered.

"I guess not," said the boy. "Who's Parkinson?"

"My imaginary servant," said Gwen, without thinking. "I mean," she added hastily, "I wish I had servants, don't you? I hate doing chores."

"Yeah, no kidding," said the boy. "We could use a few servants at our place to unpack. We're moving in," he added, motioning to the boxes.

He hadn't laughed at her! Relieved, Gwen said, "So that's why I haven't seen you around before. I'm Gwen. What's your name?"

"Lance," he answered.

"Really? As in Lancelot?" Gwen spoke without thinking. But to her surprise, the boy turned bright red and muttered something under his breath.

It sounded like "not again!"

"What did I say?" asked Gwen, confused.

"It figures," said the boy irritably. "Even moving doesn't help. Somebody always gives me a hard time. But how'd you find out so soon?"

"What are you talking about?"

"My name," he said.

"Lance? What's wrong with that? It's an O.K. name," said Gwen.

"Not my first name. My last name. It's Alott. A-L-O-T-T. My mom has a lousy sense of humor."

"Lance Alott? You've got to be kidding!" Gwen burst out laughing.

It wasn't a good thing to do. The boy's face turned, if possible, even redder. "Forget it," he growled, and turned to leave.

"No, wait," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "I didn't mean--I wasn't laughing at your name, honest. It's both our names. My last name's Vere. V-E-R-E. And my first name is really Gwenna. My mom thought it would be cute. I don't tell anybody, though," she added. "But don't you see? Lance Alott and Gwenna Vere. Isn't it funny?"

"Lancelot and Guinevere? Oh, that's great," he said sarcastically. "Straight out of King Arthur. I hope we don't go to the same school. The kids would laugh their heads off."

"So what?" said Gwen. "I think it's cool. Knights and castles--Don't you like folklore and fairy tales? I do. They're more exciting than real life."

"Really? You just found it lying around? That's funny. I mean, I found something lying around in my apartment, too. This ring." She showed it to him. "I never saw it before. Isn't that strange?" Without realizing it, she began twisting the ring around on her finger.

"Not really," he said. "We both live in apartments. Lots of people have lived in them before us. They leave stuff."

"I suppose so. That's a neat book, though. I like the title. Wouldn't it be neat if we really were Lancelot and Guinevere?" Gwen asked. "Or any other knight and princess," she added. "Then we could have adventures."

"Princesses couldn't," pointed out Lance. "They had to sit around sewing and stuff."

"Not me," declared Gwen. "I'd be out fighting dragons. You could come along," she added generously.

"Girls!" Lance said. "You never get your facts right. There weren't any real dragons in medieval times."

"I know that," said Gwen. "I'm not talking about real medieval times. I'm talking about like in stories."

"Right," said Lance. "Dream on. I've gotta go. I got about 10 more boxes to unpack. See you," he added, turning to go.

Gwen felt her face grow red. "I'm not crazy," she said. "I just have a better imagination than you do." She gave the ring an angry twist. "Any way, I DO wish it was true, so there!"