Dragon's Breath (5 page)

Six

Eadric had waited for me at the water's edge. He was frowning, and I knew he wasn't in a good mood. "Grassina was right when she said you should work on your spells. What were you thinking of with that last one? Winged creature? You could have called up anything from a gnat to a dragon!"

"I was trying to call a bird."

"Some bird!" he said.

"At least I tried! I didn't see you doing anything to save us."

"Huh!" said Eadric. He turned away and hopped stiffly up the beach. I followed only a few paces behind, tired, thirsty and with a terrible headache.

"We have to find fresh water," I said to Eadric's rigid back.

"That's where I'm going now," he grumbled. "I thought I saw sunlight reflecting off water behind these trees."

"I hope you're right," I muttered.

Although the rain had cooled the sand temporarily, it was already becoming hot beneath our feet. I tried to make long hops so that my feet didn't have to touch the scorching ground as often.

I was trying to keep up with Eadric when I bumped into a brown ball covered with coarse, thick hairs. The ball rolled aside, revealing a small green crab. I backed away when the crab clacked its claws in the air. A chorus of claws sprang up around me; I was surrounded by crabs even bigger and meaner than the first one.

"Eadric!" I shouted, hopping from one vacant patch of ground to another as more crabs threatened me with their claws.

"Over here, Emma!" Eadric had passed most of the crabs before they noticed us. I hopped again, but a crab scuttled forward unexpectedly and I landed on his back, flipping him over when I jumped again.

A dozen or so scurried to block my path. "This way!" Eadric shouted.

The crabs scuttled after him, leaving an opening. I knew I wouldn't stand a chance against the oversized claws of the larger crabs, so I hunched down, tensed my muscles and leaped as far as I could, flying over their heads. Although I made it past the crabs, I landed face first, getting a mouthful of sand.

We hopped away as fast as we could and didn't stop until we landed in the freshwater pond Eadric had seen. While Eadric paddled across the pond, I rinsed the sand from my mouth, spitting until the grit no longer rasped my tongue.

The water was warmer than I was used to, and felt wonderful. Still, I couldn't wait to start looking for Grassina. Even if she'd landed safely, I was sure she'd be worried about me. But before we went anywhere, we needed to turn back into humans. There was no telling what other kinds of creatures we might meet on the island.

Not wanting to make myself prematurely old again, I was reluctant to try another spell, so I began to look around, wondering what I might use to make myself sneeze. I saw Eadric chasing insects at the water's edge and was about to call to him when I spotted the most beautiful crimson flowers. They didn't look real with their golden centers and long, curled petals, and I couldn't resist the urge to touch them.

I'd always been fascinated by flowers, perhaps because they were forbidden in my parents' castle. When I was younger, I'd been told that my mother and aunt were allergic to them, and I'd only recently learned the truth about the family curse. Since the curse didn't take effect until after one's sixteenth birthday and I had yet to turn fifteen, I was still immune.

I could smell the flowers' perfume even though I was yards away. Climbing out of the water, I reached for a stem, pulling it down until I had the blossom cupped in my hands. The tingling began with my first sniff. I took another breath, deeper than the first.

"Eadric!" I shouted. "I'm going to ... going to ...
ah-choo!"

The fizzy rush happened almost instantly. One moment I was a frog standing on tiptoe, sniffing a flower, the next I was a princess, crouched over a flower that I still cradled in my hands. I heard a shout and saw Eadric climbing from the pond, his clothes and hair streaming water. He wore the silliest grin, and I couldn't help but laugh. I guffawed, I chortled, I wheezed, just as I always do. Some unseen creature thrashed about in the foliage by the edge of the pond. A flock of shrill-voiced birds exploded from a nearby tree, scattering leaves and loose feathers. Eadric joined in, laughing so hard that he bent double, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

"Don't ever change your laugh, Emma," said a voice. "It's a wonderful way to find you." My aunt Grassina stepped into the sunlight surrounding the pond. Her hair hung down her back and was even more disheveled than usual. Bits of leaves peeped from the snarled curls, and wet sand smeared her clothes. Haywood scampered at her side, his drying fur ruffled and crusted with sand.

"Grassina!" I shouted. Scrambling to my feet, I ran to give my aunt a hug and to tell her the story of how we'd met Manta. "So what happened to you after we fell off?" I asked as we joined Eadric by the pond.

"It was a fight the whole way. I didn't notice you were missing until we had almost reached the island. When I saw that you were gone, I had the rug circle back. It never occurred to me that you might have turned into frogs again. No wonder we couldn't find you!"

"What did you do then?" I asked.

"We came to the island to wait out the storm," said Haywood, "but the wind had gotten stronger and we had a rough landing."

"Did you see the swamp from the sky? Did you see Grandmother or any of the other witches?"

Grassina shook her head. "We didn't see much of anything, but I don't think there's a swamp. The island isn't very big."

"The picture on the parchment—" Eadric began.

"Was a trick to get the witches here, if I'm not mistaken," said my aunt. "Knowing that group, a snake-infested swamp would be more of an attraction than a tropical beach."

"Do you suppose the witches might be on the beach? Eadric and I saw people and huts."

"Then that's where we should start looking. Come along, sugarplum," Grassina said, ruffling Haywood's fur. "Let's go see if we can find my mother."

I wasn't happy about walking beneath the trees since I didn't want to encounter the crabs again, but there wasn't any way to avoid it. I didn't have to worry, however. The moment Haywood saw the crabs, he licked his lips and galumphed across the sand in pursuit of a large fat one, sending the rest into hiding. While Grassina waited for him to return, Eadric and I kept walking.

We were alone among the trees when Eadric said, "So how about a kiss? I haven't had one yet today." He took a step closer, backing me against one of the frond-topped trees, and leaned toward me with his hand braced against the trunk.

"A kiss? With all the things we have to do, is that all you can think about?"

Eadric grinned. "Sometimes. Other times I think about horses or improving my swordplay or what I'm going to have for dinner, but none of those things seem important when we're alone on this beautiful island."

"You mean I'm more important than horses right now?"

"And dinner. My stomach hasn't settled down yet, so I'm still not hungry. Do I get that kiss?"

I rolled my eyes. "After that romantic explanation it would be almost impossible to refuse, but I'll manage," I said, ducking under his arm.

"Hey!" said Eadric. "What's wrong? You kissed me the other day."

"You're right, I did. I must not have had anything more important to think about then."

With Eadric trailing behind, I hurried between the last of the trees and stepped onto the beach. There were people there, scattered across the sand like brightly colored flowers. All elderly women, they were dressed in loose-fitting gowns made from vibrant fabrics. The sleeves were short, leaving the women's arms exposed. Although my mother would have been shocked, I thought it was practical for such a hot climate. I was already perspiring in my long-sleeved gown.

Small groups of women strolled along the water's edge, giggling when the waves wet their feet and legs. They'd stop now and then to pick up objects that the storm had washed ashore, exclaiming over their finds like children on a treasure hunt.

Other women were working on their own projects. The closest of these was an old woman in a yellow and orange gown kneeling beside a castle she was constructing out of sand. Since the castle was within the water's reach, she was constantly repairing walls and towers, scooping the sand with a large seashell.

"Hello!" she said, looking up as we drew near. "Come to see my castle? It's a beauty, isn't it? Watch what happens when the water fills the moat. See, it looks just like the real thing!" Water from one of the larger waves had run hissing up the sand, filling the moat and lapping at the castle walls. Clapping her hands, the old woman sat back on her heels and watched the wave retreat.

"You've done a beautiful job," said Grassina, coming through the copse of trees. "Did you build it all by yourself?"

"Of course. No one else can handle the sand so well. I'm the only one who can fashion a bridge or mold towers like these," she said, patting one tenderly.

"So you know everyone on the island?"

The old woman nodded. "There aren't that many of us. We all live right there," she said, pointing toward a nearby group of huts.

"I know that woman," Grassina muttered once we'd continued on our way. "But I'd swear she didn't recognize me. Her name is Hennah, and she isn't behaving like herself at all."

"She seemed nice," I said, glancing back over my shoulder.

"Yes, she does, which isn't like her. Normally, she hates people and goes out of her way to let them know it."

"All the witches from the retirement community must be here. We should have asked Hennah where we could find Grandmother."

"There's another witch," said Eadric, pointing farther down the beach. "Let's ask her."

An old woman with curling white hair so long that it brushed the sand was bent double, collecting seashells. She looked up when our shadows crossed her path.

"Good day," said Grassina. "I was wondering if I might ask you a question. Do you know anyone named Olivene?"

The old woman straightened and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "I don't think so," she said in a husky sort of voice.

"Could you tell us your name?" I asked.

The old woman looked perplexed. "I can't seem to remember "

"That's all right," I hurried to tell her. "Sorry to have

troubled you."

The old woman held up her cupped hands, opening them to reveal an assortment of shells. "Would you like to see my seashells? I've found some lovely ones. Some of these must be the fairest in the sea!"

"Perhaps another time," said my aunt. "We have something we have to do first."

Since the witch was busy with her shells, it was easy to sneak away. I glanced at Grassina. The worried look on her face frightened me. "That was Cadmilia, one of the most devious witches around. Everyone knows that she tried to kill her stepdaughter."

"But she seemed nice, too!" I said.

Grassina shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense, does it? If even their personalities have changed—"

"They must have lost their memories altogether," said Eadric, digging the toe of his boot into the sand.

"Eadric!" I said, startled at his brilliance. "I bet that's it!"

"It makes sense, doesn't it? They can't even remember their own names, let alone who Grassina or Olivene are. If they can't remember that much, there's probably a lot they can't remember."

Shading my eyes with my hand, I glanced down the beach. "We'll just have to look for Grandmother. She must be around here somewhere."

We finally found my grandmother lying on a blanket, sound asleep. Her face was relaxed, without the cruel lines that usually etched her skin, and she looked kind of sweet lying there. I almost didn't recognize her.

"Do you think we should wake her?" I whispered to my aunt. "She looks so peaceful."

"What's all this noise about?" said my grandmother, turning her head to glare at us.

My aunt looked defiant, which was the way she usually acted around her mother. "We came to find you."

"Why? Do I know you? Doesn't matter. I'm taking a nap. Go bother someone else." My grandmother rolled onto her side, turning her back to us. Perhaps it was the curse, but even without her memory, Grandmother was the nastiest witch around.

Grassina shook her head and walked away, gesturing for me to follow. "This may take a while," she said once we were out of my grandmother's earshot. "Why don't you and Eadric see what else you can learn about the island? The more we know, the sooner we can get your grandmother's memory back and ask her to reverse the spell on Haywood."

"Will we take Grandmother with us when we go?" I asked.

"That depends on what we learn. Just be careful. There's more going on here than you might imagine."

Seven

Eadric and I headed down the beach in the only direction we had yet to explore. Although we
fc
didn't see anyone, we did spot a lone hut set off by itself. Larger than the others, it had the same cone-shaped thatched roof and stick-built walls, and it was situated on a small spit of land that overlooked the beach on one side and a tree-lined bay on the other.

As we got closer, we could tell that something was going on inside the hut. A shrill, scratchy voice was screaming, "Me too! Me too!" A deeper, less distinct voice answered.

Although it was broad daylight, with all the greenery we were able to sneak up and peek inside without anyone noticing. I saw only one person, a short old man with white hair, a rounded belly, a substantial mustache and a neat, trim beard. Dressed in a knee-length light blue robe, the old man wore a soft, four-cornered cap that threatened to silp off each time he turned his head. Both robe and cap were decorated with scattered silver stars, and a chain of larger stars twinkled around his neck. A large green and red bird with a well-developed beak sat on a perch beside him.

On a table against the wall, pink and white seashells held down the edges of a fresh piece of parchment. A quill pen lay on the table, dripping ink beside a small clay pot. From where I crouched, I could see that the parchment was clean except for a few written words and a splattering of ink.

"I'm sick and tired of this!" grumbled the old man.

"Me too!" squawked the bird, shuffling back and forth on its perch.

"I can't wait until we're finished and can go home."

"Me too!"

"I wish you'd think of something else to say!"

"Me too!"

The wizard's left eyelid twitched. "You know, it was funny at first, but now it's just annoying. Stop saying 'Me too,' Metoo!"

"Thppt!"
The bird made a rude sound with its beak.

"Now cut that out! I don't know why I put up with you."

"Grack!" said the bird.

The old man shook a pudgy pink finger. "You stupid bird. If it weren't for you, we would have been finished and out of here already!"

"Awk!" squawked the bird. "Don't blame me, Olefat! I told you that lying to a bunch of old witches would get you in trouble, but you had to steal their memories—"

"It seemed like a good idea," said Olefat. "All those memories just waiting to be bottled up. Once I found the book, it was only a matter of time."

"You wouldn't have needed to do it if you could come up with your own spells."

Olefat shook his head. "That wasn't the point. Those witches were once the leaders in their field. By collecting their spells, I'm doing the world of magic a service."

"Then don't come crying to me when you don't like what you hear. Even you couldn't have expected those old memories to be pleasant." Sidling along his perch, the bird twisted his head to the side to stare at the old wizard.

"I never thought they'd be this bad," Olefat wailed. "I can't stand much more!"

Something rattled, and I peeked over the window ledge to see what it was. A row of bottles filled a shelf that had been pegged to the opposite wall. One bottle was a sickly yellow shot through with violet; another was gray with purple specks the color of a bruise. While some bottles were shaking, one that was the color of dried blood looked like it was about to rattle itself completely off the shelf.

"Are you through yet?" said a scratchy voice. "I'm sick of hearing you two yammer on. Close your mouths and listen before I turn you into a couple of cockroaches!"

"You're so full of hot air!" said another voice, shrilier than the first. "You can't cast spells now. You're just a memory."

"Quiet, you old crones. It's my turn and I'm going to have my say. Ahem," said a husky voice clearing a nonexistent throat. "I married a widower king who doted on me for my beauty. I kept my splendor for years with a lotion I made from the dust of a thousand butterfly wings and the milk from two bushels of milkweed pods. I was very happy for a time, since I was the fairest in the land. But then my stepdaughter turned sixteen and ruined it all by being even more beautiful."

"A thousand butterfly wings..." muttered the old man as he scribbled on the piece of parchment.

Another witch cackled. 'You wasted your life trying to stay beautiful while I spent my days teaching lessons to those who deserved it. Every day I waited for someone to come into my woods. If a maid shared her lunch with me, I cast a spell so that each time she spoke, pearls and precious gems fell from her lips. Maids who refused to share their food had frogs, snakes and lizards squirming from their throats."

"What if it was a gentleman instead of a maid?" asked the old man.

"Generous gentlemen received swords of valor or enchanted cloaks. As for the stingy ones—"

A familiar voice broke in. "I transformed people as well, but not always for being selfish. I changed my daughter's betrothed into an otter because I didn't think he was good enough for her. When I told him how to break the spell, I made it so involved that he was bound to forget it."

"Is that your grandmother?" Eadric whispered into my ear.

I nodded, shushing him with a raised finger.

"So tell us what you said!" demanded one voice.

"I don't think I will. It was too delicious!"

Go ahead,
I thought.
Tell them!

"That isn't fair! I told you my recipe for beauty."

"We won't share anything else with you if you don't share with us."

"Oh, all right, if you're going to be that way. I remember it word for word, since it was so perfect."

A gossamer hair from mother-of-pearl,
The breath
of
a dragon green.
A feather from an aged horse,
The husk of a magic bean.

"I see what you mean. He couldn't possibly have gotten that right."

"It wasn't impossible, mind you, or it wouldn't have worked."

"But for an otter to remember that, or find half the things—"

"How long did he stay an otter?"

"As far as I know, he still is!" screeched my grandmother.

The hoots of laughter from the bottles made me so angry, I felt like shaking them.

"Now it's my turn!" screamed a voice over the din. "And have I got a story."

"Who said you could go next? You talked yesterday, so it's my turn."

I backed away from the window, tugging on Eadric's sleeve. "It's time for us to go," I whispered. "We've heard what we came for."

"But it's just getting good!" he whispered a little too loudly.

"What was that?" asked the bird. "I think I heard something."

"You're always hearing something," the wizard replied. "It's probably a loose seed rattling around in your skull."

The bird's outraged squawk hurt my ears. "Loose seeds! I'll give you loose seeds!"
Flip! Flip! Flip!
The last thing I saw through the window before I started to run was the bird flinging seeds at the old man.

We found Grassina seated on the blanket beside my grandmother, who had fallen asleep again. Haywood was chasing seagulls up and down the beach, and appeared to be having a wonderful time.

"We found the answer!" I said. "You have to come with us."

"There's a little old wizard named Olefat—" began Eadric, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Grassina stood and brushed the sand from her gown. "Olefat? I didn't know he was still alive. It's been years since I've heard anyone mention his name. I'm not surprised he's involved," she said, looking grim. "He has a shady reputation."

"He's the one behind all this," said Eadric. "You should see his hut. He put the memories in bottles and keeps them on a shelf."

Grassina began walking and we hurried to catch up. "He has the memories with him now?" she asked, a determined glint in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"We heard them ourselves!" said Eadric. "He was arguing with a bird. It's the size of a crow, but it's green and red and has a much bigger beak."

"That sounds like a parrot."

"And then other voices started talking," I said. "They called themselves memories, but they weren't very nice."

Grassina shook her head. "No, they wouldn't be. A nasty group of witches lives in that retirement community. Maybe all the nice ones moved away—or never moved there in the first place, once they'd learned who already lived there. Not all old witches are nasty."

"That's good," said Eadric, smiling at me. He pointed at the hut down the beach. "We listened through the window and we heard your—"

Grassina held up her hand for silence. "You two did very well, but I think you'd better stay outside. It may get unpleasant in there."

Once again Eadric and I crouched beneath Olefat's window. Hearing my aunt knock on the door, I peeked over the sill, careful to stay out of sight. The old wizard looked startled.

"Who do you suppose that is?" Olefat asked his parrot.

The parrot squawked and threw another seed at him. "You're the wizard. You tell me!"

Olefat took off his hat, trickling seeds on the floor. His head was bald but for a fringe of hair that reached from ear to ear. Frowning, he rubbed his bald spot before jamming his cap back on his head. "Come in," he called, his eyelid twitching so much, it looked like a living thing trying to escape.

When Grassina opened the door, all the blood drained from Olefat's face. Muttering under his breath, he began to reach into a fold in his robe, but Grassina threw up her hand and pointed her finger at him.

No word, no gesture shall you make!
Silence keep for your life's sake!

Olefat's mouth flew open, and it seemed as though he was about to speak. When nothing came out, his eyes took on a wild look. His jaw waggled, and his Adam's apple jerked up and down.

The parrot squawked, bobbing its head like a broken child's toy. "Would you look at that? That's the first time I've seen the old man speechless. You should have come by sooner. Why, we—"

Grassina pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, a look that too often meant that someone was in trouble. "Silence, bird, or you'll never speak again," she said. The parrot's beak closed with a snap.

Grassina nodded, apparently satisfied. "Now let's get down to business." Pointing her finger at the old man once more, she recited a truthfulness spell.

Let the truth be known to all.
No more tales-short or tall.
May the words we
need
to hear
Pass from your lips to waiting ear.
From this day
on,
the truth you'll tell.
There's just one way to break the spell.
Three selfless acts you must perform
To aid a stranger who's forlorn.

It was a spell I'd heard before. Only a few months earlier a knight had boasted that he was responsible for the death of a dragon terrorizing a neighboring kingdom. When someone questioned the knight's story, Grassina was called in to verify the truth. It was an important point, for whoever had killed the dragon would win the hand of the princess and get half the kingdom. It turned out that a groom in the king's stable had really been responsible, which pleased the princess, for he was younger and much better-looking than the knight. The truth would probably never have come out if it hadn't been for Grassina.

As my aunt finished the spell, Olefat's eyes grew large and his hands began to shake. I wondered if he had heard of the spell and knew what it really meant. "You may talk now," said Grassina, "but I must say that you should be ashamed of yourself. It wasn't the first time you've done something like this, I warrant."

"No, I've done the same thing before." Even while he spoke, a look of horror altered Olefat's features. Stepping back, he clapped both hands over his mouth.

"Tell me, how did you get their memories?"

Olefat shook his head, but it didn't do him any good, for the words spilied out no matter what he did. "I bought a book from a merchant who didn't know what he was selling. Most of the spells were useless, but I tried the memory spell and it worked. I'm terrible at coming up with spells on my own, so I thought this was the perfect way to get some good ones."

The parrot squawked and flicked another seed at Olefat. "Stop talking, you idiot! You're going to tell her everything! Haven't you gotten us in enough trouble already?"

"I can't help it!" Olefat wailed.

Grassina's glance shifted from the parrot back to Olefat. "How did you get the ladies to come to the island?"

"I lied. I told them that I'd found some great swampland that was selling for next to nothing. When I gave them pictures, they wanted to leave right away."

"How did you get them all here?"

"That spell was in the book, too. The witches needed something as a focus, so I gave them bags of sand. I linked their brooms with a spell and took their memories the moment they landed."

Grassina nodded, as if something she'd suspected had just been confirmed. "Where is this book now?"

"Don't tell her, you idiot!" screeched the parrot.

Olefat struggled to keep his mouth closed, squeezing his lips shut with his fingers. When he tried to speak anyway, his words were indistinguishable. Grassina sighed and reached out to pinch his nose so that he was forced to breathe through his mouth. The old man held out as long as he could, but when his face started to turn blue, he let go of his lips, gasped once and blurted out, "It's in the chest under the table!" "Aagh!" shrieked the parrot. "Now you've done it, you old fool!" Olefat began to weep enormous tears. When Grassina started toward the table, the parrot let out an earsplltting screech and flew at her in a flurry of beak and claws. I sensed movement beside me, and a furry body catapulted through the window. Although I hadn't known that Haywood had joined us, he seemed to know exactly what was going on. In a flash, he tackled the bird and had it pinned to the floor. The bird beat its wings in his face and tried to bite him, but I guess the otter was used to uncooperative food, for he knew how to hold it without getting hurt.