Read Talking to Dragons Online

Authors: Patricia C. Wrede

Talking to Dragons (23 page)

BOOK: Talking to Dragons
9.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

The old dragon smiled slightly. “What do you think?” he asked the crowd of dragons behind him.

All of the dragons roared at once. I couldn't tell what they were saying, or even if they were saying anything, but the old dragon nodded again and looked at the little dragon. “You'll get your wish, then. Well, don't just stand there.”

I nodded and stepped forward as the old dragon turned. Shiara followed behind me, very closely, and our dragon came behind her.

“Where are we going?” Shiara whispered to me.

The old dragon looked back over his shoulder, and his eyes glinted with amusement. “You're going to see Kazul.”

“Oh,” Shiara said. We stepped down from the little hill, and there was a loud clattering and rumbling as the dragons moved out of our way. I stopped short in shock.

The ground around the hill was dry and brown and bare. It looked even worse to me than it would have normally because I'd spent several days looking at the rich green moss in the Enchanted Forest and the contrast was striking. Then I remembered that we were still
in
the Enchanted Forest, and I started being worried as well as shocked. I knew from experience how fast the moss grew and how hard it was to clear off even a small strip of ground. I didn't like to think about what had stripped the moss from the area around the castle.

Shiara poked me, and I moved forward again. Fortunately, the dragon ahead of us hadn't noticed my pause. A few of the ones at the edge of the crowd had, but they seemed more amused than anything. I walked a little faster, trying to ignore the large shapes on either side of me. With two hundred dragons around, I could waste a lot of time worrying if I wasn't careful.

The old dragon led us toward the castle. As we got closer, I could see that there were two shimmerings in the air around the castle, one a few feet inside the other. The outer one looked like a shifting green-and-silver veil, very thin and transparent. The inner one seemed to be a pale golden glow, but I couldn't be sure because the one on the outside kept shifting around, interfering with my seeing the inner one clearly. After a few minutes, I gave up on trying to look
at
the shimmerings and tried looking
through
them instead.

The shimmerings didn't get in the way at all, so I could see quite a bit of the castle. There was no wall around it, only the shimmerings and a water-filled moat just inside them. The castle itself was a wonderful, rambling-looking place, with six towers of various sizes, large square windows, and four balconies. I could see several stairways running up to oddly shaped doors or around the outsides of towers, and a lot of walls that seemed to be there just to confuse people. I was so busy studying the castle and the shimmerings that I almost didn't notice when the old dragon stopped. I was lucky not to step on his tail.

We were about halfway around the castle, and there seemed to be fewer dragons around. I was trying to guess which one was Kazul when the old dragon who had been leading us stepped a little to one side and bobbed his head respectfully.

“King Kazul, these are the travelers who wish to see you. That one's Daystar, the other one's Shiara, and the cat is Nightwitch.”

Right away I bowed very deeply, and so did Shiara. I was relieved. I hadn't been completely sure Shiara would do any of the things I'd suggested. As I straightened up, I got my first look at Kazul.

Even lying on the ground, she looked large for a dragon. Her scales were just beginning to turn gray around the edges, which surprised me; I'd expected someone older. Her eyes were hypnotic, green-gold ovals. She was the most dangerous-looking dragon I'd ever seen.

Kazul smiled broadly. Dragons have a
lot
of teeth.

“So,” she said, “you are the people Telemain sent through the Caves of Chance, and you have the Sword of the Sleeping King.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. I took the sword out from under my arm and held it up so she could see it better. “Mother gave it to me a few days ago, and I was told you would want to know about it.”

“Ahhhhhh.” As she looked at the sword, Kazul's eyes glowed. Literally. The light from them was a little like firelight, except it didn't flicker. After a minute, she transferred her gaze to me. “And you got it here safely. Well done, Cimorene's son.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said. “You know my mother?”

Kazul smiled again. “Cimorene was the best princess I ever had.”

Shiara choked, and my jaw dropped.

The little dragon said, “So
that's
how she knew dragon magic!” in a pleased tone.

I closed my mouth, swallowed hard, and bowed to Kazul. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. I was, um, startled. Mother is a princess?”

“She certainly was once,” Kazul said. She looked at the sword again. “I'm glad she managed to keep it safe. We didn't have a lot of choice at the time, but it's still worrying to have to take a risk like that.”

I wasn't certain what to say. Kazul didn't seem to be talking to me, but it isn't a good idea to ignore a dragon. So, just to be safe, I bowed again.

Kazul looked up from the sword. “You needn't be quite so formal. I have a lot tell you, and the conversation will go faster if you're not so stiff.”

Before I could reply, Kazul turned toward the old dragon, who was still standing beside me. “It will be tomorrow morning. Let everyone know.”

The old dragon nodded and left. Kazul looked back at us. “Come with me.” She started to rise.

“What about me?” the little dragon demanded.

Kazul sighed. “Yes, you may come, too.” She stood, which made her look twice as big as she had before, and started walking. Shiara and I looked at each other, then followed.

By this time the sun was completely down, but there was still enough light in the sky to see where we were going. Kazul led us a little farther around the castle, then turned away from it. As we walked along, the other dragons slid out of the way for Kazul and bowed their heads respectfully. Then Shiara and I walked by and bowed respectfully to the dragons. It kept us too busy to see much of where we were going.

Kazul led us to what looked like a jumbled pile of rocks a little way from the castle. There was a dark opening at one side of the pile, and Kazul went right in. Shiara and the little dragon and Nightwitch and I followed.

It was very dark inside, almost as black as the Caves of Chance. I stopped immediately, since I didn't want to step on Kazul's tail in the dark or run into her accidentally. Shiara bumped into me, squeezing Nightwitch between us. Nightwitch said, “Mrowww!” in a complaining tone, and Kazul's voice came out of the darkness.

“I suppose you human people need some light.”

“Only if it won't be inconvenient,” I said.

“Not at all,” Kazul replied, and added about five hissing words.

Silvery light sprang up all around us. I squinted, and then I blinked. The inside of the pile of rocks looked a lot like a cave. I looked for the source of the light and realized that the light was coming from the rocks.

That shook me. Dragons don't usually do magic casually. In particular, the King of the Dragons wouldn't normally work a spell just for a visitor's convenience. I looked at Kazul, wondering exactly what was going on.

“Sit down,” said Kazul, nodding toward a row of rocks. We did. The little dragon sat down by the entrance, looking half-sulky and half-defiant. Kazul ignored it.

“I think you had better tell me your story first,” she said, looking at me intently. “Start at the beginning, when Cimorene gave you the sword.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I'll start with the sword if you want me to, but I think the beginning is the wizard.”

“Wizard?”

“His name's Antorell, and he came to our cottage the day before Mother gave me the sword. Mother melted him.”

“Oh, him.” Kazul shook her head. “Sounds like he hasn't learned anything since the last time he tangled with Cimorene. Yes, start with him, by all means.”

So I told Kazul everything that had happened to me since Antorell had walked up to our cottage and knocked the door in. It took a long time—especially the part after Shiara and I met the little dragon, because then the dragon kept adding things. Finally, Kazul told it to either be quiet or go away. It looked terribly offended, but it quit talking.

Kazul didn't ask any questions at all. Once, when I mentioned finding the key in the Caves of Chance, she made a noise that sounded like an astonished snort, but she apologized for interrupting and told me to go on. I did, once I got over the shock of having the King of the Dragons apologize to me.

When I finished, there was silence for a minute or two. Then Kazul stirred. “So. You have accomplished a great deal in a short time, Daystar.”

“It doesn't seem like much to me,” I said.

“A great deal,” Kazul repeated. She sounded as if she were talking to herself.

Shiara shifted restlessly. “Are you going to explain about Daystar's sword?”

“Shiara!” I said, horrified.
Nobody
talks to the King of the Dragons in that tone of voice.

Except Shiara. “No,” said Kazul. “Or at least, I'm not going to tell you as much as you want to know. The Society of Wizards has more than a hundred spells hunting for that sword right now, and all of them depend on finding someone who knows what he's carrying. Fortunately, wizards' magic can't detect the sword itself. If Daystar finds out too much about that sword, we'll be up to our wings in wizards in no time. I don't want that to happen yet.”

“I don't like wizards,” the little dragon said suddenly. “They make me sneeze.”

Kazul's head turned and she eyed the little dragon for a minute. “I think it is time you made yourself useful,” she said at last. “Go find Marchak and tell him to bring us dinner. Then go back to your teacher and apologize for running off, and after that you can start getting ready for tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?” the little dragon said suspiciously.

“We have a war,” Kazul said. “Which you
might
live through, if you're ready for it. So go!”

“Yes, ma'am!” The little dragon disappeared out the door of the cave.

Kazul looked after it for a minute, then shook her head. “That is undoubtedly the most irritating grandchild I have.”

“Who are you going to be—
‘Grandchild?'”
said Shiara.

“Yes, of course.” Kazul looked mildly surprised. “It's an annoying youngster, but precocious children frequently are. I'm hoping it will grow out of it.”

“Oh.” Shiara stared out the entrance thoughtfully.

“I enjoyed its company, most of the time,” I said honestly.

“I'm glad,” Kazul said.

After another minute, I went on, “Um, if you wouldn't mind telling us, I'm sort of curious about whom you expect to be fighting tomorrow.” I was also wondering whether Kazul thought Shiara and I were going to be included in this. I wasn't particularly anxious to get involved in a war between dragons.

Kazul smiled; I got the feeling she knew what I was thinking. “Wizards,” she said. “There will be a few elves, of course, and maybe some ogres and trolls, but mostly we'll be fighting wizards.”

“Oh. Of course.” I was even less interested in getting involved in a war between dragons and wizards. Dragons alone might overlook Shiara and Nightwitch and me, but wizards certainly wouldn't.

“I'm afraid you already are involved,” Kazul said.

“Because of the sword?” Shiara asked while I tried to remember whether I'd said anything out loud about not wanting to get involved.

“Yes,” said Kazul. “The sword and other things. It's a long story. I hope you're comfortable.”

We both nodded, and Kazul smiled again. “Well, then. There are two types of magic in the world: the kind you're born with, and the kind you get from something else. Dragons”—Kazul looked smug—“elves, unicorns, and fire-witches are born with magic. Ordinary witches and magicians get their magic from objects or from rituals involving things that have magic, which works quite well and doesn't upset things.

“Wizards, on the other hand, get their magic from everything around them that happens to have magic. Those staffs of theirs absorb little bits of it constantly, and the suction gets worse every time a wizard stores a new spell in his staff. That, by the way, is why dragons are allergic to wizards. Whenever those staffs get near us, they start trying to soak up some of our magic and we start sneezing.”

“Telemain said something like that,” I said.

Kazul nodded. “Wizards' staffs create other problems, too.”

“You mean those stupid wizards have been grabbing my magic every time they come near me?” Shiara said indignantly.

“Not yours,” Kazul said. “Wizards can't use fire-witches' magic; it's too different. Their staffs explode if they try.”

“Good!” Shiara's face grew thoughtful. “I wonder if I could learn to do that on purpose?”

Kazul looked as if she agreed with Shiara. “Wizards get most of their magic from the Enchanted Forest, but if they absorb too much magic in any one place, things die.”

“The moss!” I said. “That's why it turns brown when a wizard's staff touches it.”

“Yes,” said Kazul. “The King of the Enchanted Forest had a way of reversing the process, taking magic out of a wizard's staff and putting it back in the forest, so wizards weren't too much of a problem until about seventeen years ago. The fellow who was Head Wizard then decided he was tired of stealing magic in bits, so he stole the tool that the King used to keep wizards from swiping magic in large chunks.”

“The sword?” I said. “Telemain said it was supposed to be used on wizards.”

“Telemain talks too much,” Kazul said a little sourly. “Almost as soon as they had the sword, the wizards attacked the castle. They thought that without the sword the King would be easy to take care of. They forgot that the King of the Enchanted Forest has friends.” She smiled fiercely. I felt almost sorry for the wizards.

BOOK: Talking to Dragons
9.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Haze by Erin Thomas
THE ENGLISH WITNESS by John C. Bailey
Christmas Kismet by Grey, Jemma
Hunting Ground by J. Robert Janes
Highland Fling by Nancy Mitford
Dinner Along the Amazon by Timothy Findley
Thawing the Ice by Shyla Colt
Off Limits by Sawyer Bennett
Billy by Albert French