"Wrede, Patricia C - Chronicles of the Enchanted Forest 04 - Talking to Dragons UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wrede Patricia C)

1

MOTHER TAUGHT ME to be polite to dragons. Particularly

polite, I mean; she taught me to be ordinary polite to every-

one. Well, it makes sense. With all the enchanted Princesses

and disguised wizards and transformed Kings and so on

wandering around, you never know whom you might be

talking to. But dragons are a special case.

Not that I ever actually talked to one until after I left

home. Even around the edge of the Enchanted Forest, drag-

ons aren't exactly common. It's the principle that matters,

though; always be polite to a dragon. It's more difficult

than it sounds; dragon etiquette is incredibly complicated,

and if you make a mistake, the dragon eats you. But I was

well trained.

Dragon etiquette wasn't the only thing Mother taught

me. Reading and writing are unusual skills for a poor boy,

but I learned them. Music, too, and fighting. Don't ask me

where Mother learned to use a sword; she wouldn't tell me.

Until I was thirteen, I didn't even know we had one in the

house. I even learned a little magic. Mother wasn't exactly

pleased, but growing up on the edge of the Enchanted Forest

I had to know some things.

Mother was tall and slender, and very impressive when

1

2              Patricia C. Wrede

she wanted to be. Most of the time she wore her hair in

two black braids wound around and around her head, but

when she really wanted to impress someone she let it hang

straight to her feet. A lot of the disguised Princes who

stopped at our cottage on their way into the Enchanted Forest

thought Mother was a sorceress or something. You can't

really blame them. Who else would want to live right at the

edge of a place like that?

Sometimes I thought they were right. Mother always

knew exactly what kind of directions to give them, even if

they didn't tell her what they were looking for. I never saw

Mother do any real magic, though, so I never thought about

it much. Until the day the wizard found us.

I knew right away he was a wizard. He had the same

sort of feel of magic that the unicorns and griffins have,

when you catch a glimpse of them farther on in the forest.

I was a little surprised; we didn't get too many wizards.

Most of them preferred to go into the forest through the

Gates of Mist and Pearl at the top of the Crystal Falls, or

through the Caves of Fire and Night. The few that bothered

to walk would never think of stopping at our cottage. But

this one was unusual.

He turned off the road and walked right past me without

saying anything; I thought that was a little strange. He went

straight to the door of our cottage and banged the head of

his staff against it. The door splintered and fell apart. I

decided that I didn't like him much.

Mother was cooking rabbit stew in the big black pot over

the chimney fire. She didn't even look up when the door

fell in. The wizard stood there for a minute, and I sneaked

a little closer so I could see better. He was frowning; some-

how I got the impression he wasn't used to being ignored.

Mother kept stirring the stew.

"Well, Cimorene, I have found you," the wizard said at

last.

"It took you long enough," Mother said without turning.

"You're getting slow."

"You know why I am here."

Mother shrugged. "You won't get what you want; you're

sixteen years too late. I told you, you're getting slow."

4 Patricia C. Wrede

"Hah! I can take the sword now, and the boy as well.

There is nothing you can do to stop me this time," the wizard

said. I could tell he was trying to sound menacing, but he

didn't do a very good job.

Mother finally turned around. I took one look at her face

and backed up a couple of steps. She looked at the wizard

for a minute and started to smile. "Nothing, Antorell? Are

you sure?"

The wizard laughed and raised his staff. I backed up

another couple of steps. I mean, I wanted to see what was

going on, but I'm not stupid. He paused a moment—for

effect, I think—and Mother pointed at him.

He screamed and started to collapse in on himself. "No!

Not again!" He shrank pretty quickly, all but his head. He

was shouting nearly the whole time. "I'll get you, Cimorene!

I'll be back! You can't stop me! I'll—" Then his head

collapsed and there was nothing left but a little puddle of

brown goo and his staff.

I stared at the puddle. All I could think was, I never

knew Mother could do that. Mother let me stand there for

a while before she told me to clean it up. "Be sure you don't

touch the staff," she reminded me. "And don't forget to

wash your hands before you come to dinner." I went to get

a bucket; when I came back, the staff was gone and Mother

was stirring the stew as if nothing had happened. She didn't

mention the wizard again until the next morning.

I was out by the remains of our door, trying to find some

way of fixing it. I didn't think my chances were very good.

I was trying to nail a couple of pieces together when I looked

up and saw Mother walking out of the Enchanted Forest. I

was so surprised I dropped the hammer and nearly smashed

my foot. Mother never went into the Enchanted Forest.

Never. Then I saw the sword she was carrying, and if I'd

still been holding the hammer, I'd have dropped it again.

Even from a distance, I could tell it wasn't an ordinary

sword like the one I usually practiced with. This one was

about the same size and shape as mine, but it shone a little

too brightly and looked a little too sharp to be ordinary.

Mother carried it carefully; she wasn't wearing a sheath, so

there wasn't anything else she could do with it. She brought

Talking to Dragons              5

it over to me and set it down on top of the boards I'd been

working on. "Don't touch it," she said, and went on into

the house.

I had a hard time following Mother's instructions. The

more I looked at the sword, the more I wanted to pick it

up and try a few of the passes Mother had taught me. It

was such a beautiful weapon! Just thinking about it made

me shiver. But Mother always had good reasons for the

things she told me to do, so I waited.

I didn't have to wait long; Mother came back almost

immediately. She had a swordbelt and a sheath with her

that I'd never seen before. They were old—so old the brown

leather was turning grey—and very, very plain. I was a

little disappointed; I'd expected something a little more im-

pressive.

Mother went straight to the sword and put it in the sheath.

She seemed to relax a little then, as if she'd been worried

about something. I started wondering just what that weapon

did. Mother almost never worried. I didn't have much time

to think about it, though; as soon as she had sheathed the

sword, Mother turned and gave me her you're-not-much-

but-you'11-have-to-do look. I started to wony.

Mother picked up the swordbelt. "This is for you, Day-

star." I reached for it, but she shook her head. "No, I'll do

it this time. Hold still." She bent down and buckled the belt

around my waist, then hung the sheathed sword on the belt.

I felt a little strange letting her do it, and my elbows kept

getting in the way. Finally she straightened up.

"Now, Day star, I have a few things to tell you before

you leave."

"Leave?" I was shocked. Mother had never mentioned

leaving before. It occurred to me that she'd said "you," not

"we." I swallowed hard. "By myself?"

"Of course. You're sixteen; it's time you left, and I'm

certainly not coming with you. Now pay attention." She

gave me one of her sharp looks. I shut up and paid attention.

"You have a sword, and you know nearly as much as I

can safely teach you. I don't want to see you back here

again until you can explain to me why you had to leave.

Do you understand?" I nodded. Mother went on, "You

6              Patricia C. Wrede

should probably start with the Enchanted Forest; one way

or another, things will happen more quickly there. Don't

lose your sword, and don't take it out unless you need to

use it. Oh, and watch out for Antorell. He may try to make

trouble again, but it'll be a couple of days before you have

to worry about that. It'll take that long for him to get himself

back together and find out where I put his staff. All right?"

"But you haven't explained anything!" I blurted. "Why

did that wizard come here yesterday, anyway? Why should

he want to make trouble for me? And if he's so dangerous,

why are you sending me—"

"Daystar!" I stopped in midsentence. Mother glared at

me. "What happened to the manners I've tried to teach you?"

"I—I'm sorry. Mother," I said. "I was upset."

"Being upset is no excuse for rudeness," Mother said

sternly. "If you're going to be rude, do it for a reason and

get something from it." I nodded. Mother smiled. "I know

it's hard, and it's rather short notice. This will probably be

the best chance we get, though, and I can't waste it just to

give you time to get used to the idea of leaving home."

I was more confused than ever, but I could see Mother

wasn't going to tell me anything more. She looked at me

for another moment, then turned and walked toward the

cottage. At the door. Mother stopped and looked back.

"Good luck, Daystar. And stop wasting time. You don't

have much of it." Before I could say anything, she disap-

peared inside.

I started off toward the Enchanted Forest. Mother's ad-

vice was always good; besides, I was afraid she'd melt me

or something if I hung around very long. I didn't bother to

follow the road; I just headed for the forest. The road isn't

particularly useful, anyway. It disappears as soon as you

get past the outer edge of the forest, or at least, it usually

does. At any rate, I wanted to stick to the part of the En-

chanted Forest I knew, to start with.

The Enchanted Forest comes in two parts, the Outer

Forest and the Deep Woods. Most people don't know that.

I'd gone herb gathering in the Outer Forest; it's relatively

safe, if you know what you're doing. I'd never been much

more than an hour's walk from our cottage, but I had to

start somewhere.

I felt the little tingle on my skin that marked the border

between the ordinary woods, where our cottage was, and

the outer part of the Enchanted Forest. Some people have

trouble getting in and out of the Enchanted Forest, but I

never had. I was feeling excited and adventurous, and maybe

a little scared. I mean, for years I'd watched all those Princes

and heroes and so on go into the forest, and now it was my

turn. I looked back over my shoulder to see if Mother was

watching. The cottage was gone.

That shook me. You just don't expect the place you've

lived in for sixteen years to vanish like that. I looked around.

None of the woods looked familiar, either. The trees were

huge, much larger than the ones by our cottage. I couldn't

reach more than a quarter of the way around the trunk of

the smallest one. The ground was covered with deep green

moss, which ran right up to the bases of the trees and stopped

short. I could see a couple of bushes, one that had three

different colors of flowers on it. Everything felt very dark

and green and alive.

I shivered. This wasn't the Outer Forest. This was the

Deep Woods.

I stood and waited for a couple of minutes, but nothing

much happened. Somehow, I wasn't reassured. Being lost

in the Enchanted Forest is not conducive to peace of mind.

There wasn't really anything I could do about it, though.

After a while I started walking, feeling considerably less

adventurous and considerably more scared.

I walked for a long time. After a while I quit being scared,

at least mostly. Finally I started looking for a place to rest;

my feet hurt and I was getting very tired. I was careful,

though; I didn't want to sit on a flower that used to be

somebody important or anything like that. After about fif-

teen minutes I found a spot that looked all right, and I started

to sit down. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten I was wearing the

sword; it got tangled up in my legs and I sort of fell over.

Somebody giggled. I looked around and didn't see any-

one, so I decided to get untangled first. I straightened my

8              Patricia C. Wrede

legs out and sat up, making sure the swordbelt was out of

the way this time. Then I took a second look around. I still

didn't see anyone, but the same somebody giggled again.

"Sir or madam or—" I stopped. What was the proper

honorific for something that wasn't male or female? I was

pretty sure there was one, but I couldn't remember it.

"Oh, don't bother," said a high squeaking voice. "I never

cared much for all that fancy stuff."

I still didn't see anyone. "Forgive my stupidity, but I

can't seem to find where you are," I said.

The giggle came again. "Down here, silly."

I looked down and jumped. A little gold lizard was sitting

right next to my hand. He was about twice as long as my

middle finger, and half of that was tail. "Hey, watch it!"

he said. "You might hurt someone if you keep jumping

around like that. Me, for instance. You big people are so

careless."

"I'm very sorry," I said politely.

The lizard lifted his head. "You are? Yes, you are! How

amazing. Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is Daystar," I said, bowing slightly. It was a

little awkward from a sitting position, but I managed. Being

polite to a lizard felt peculiar, but there are only two rules

of behavior in the Enchanted Forest: Don't take anything

for granted, and be polite to everyone. That's if you don't

live there; the inhabitants have their own codes, which it's

better not to ask about.

"You're Daystar?" The lizard did something very tangled

very quickly and ended up balanced on his tail. "So you

are! Well, my goodness. I hadn't expected to see you around

here for a while yet."

"You were expecting me?"

"Of course." The lizard looked smug. "I know everything

that goes on in the Enchanted Forest. Absolutely everything!

I know you from your little forays in the Outer Forest; it

was only a matter of time before you got this far. I thought

it would take longer, though. I'm Suz, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"You are?" The lizard leaned forward and almost lost

his balance. "Yes, you really are! How positively extraor-

Talking to Dragons             9

dinary. Whatever are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?"

"I don't know," I said.

"You don't know!" The lizard did a backflip and scurried

up onto a fat tree root, where he would have a better view.

He balanced on his tail again and looked at me thoughtfully.

"If you don't know what you're doing, why are you here?"

I thought for a moment. "Do you really know everything

that happens in this forest?"

"Of course I do." Suz looked offended. An offended

lizard is an interesting sight.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything," I said

hastily. "I just wondered if you could tell me where this

came from." I touched the sword Mother had given me.

The lizard squinted in my general direction. "What? It's

on the wrong side of you, silly; bring it over where I can

see it. If it came from the Enchanted Forest, I can tell you

about it."

I lifted the sword, sheath and all, and twisted around so

the sword was on the same side of me as Suz. The lizard

promptly fell over backward.

"Oh dear me my gracious goodness my oh," he squeaked.

"Do you know what this is?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I knew," I said. "It's a

sword; I think it's magic."

"It's a sword! He thinks it's magic!" Suz ran around

twice in a small circle, then did the tail-balancing trick

again. "Where did you get it?" the little lizard demanded.

"My mother gave it to me; she got it out of the Enchanted

Forest somewhere," I said. I was getting a little tired of

this. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Your mother gave it to you. The Sword of the Sleeping

King, that everyone in the world has been looking for for

fifteen or twenty years, and your mother gave it to you."

The lizard got so agitated he fell over again. "That isn't

right. That isn't reasonable. My dear boy, that simply isn't

done! Even in the Enchanted Forest there is a proper order

for these things! Someone will have to notify Kazul im-

mediately. Oh, dear, what a stir this will cause!"

"I'm sorry; I didn't know. What's the Sword of the Sleep-

ing King?" I'd never heard of it before, which rather sur-

10 Patricia C. Wrede

prised me. After Mother made me memorize all those pages

of names and titles and peculiar weapons, I'd thought I

knew the name of every magic sword in the world. It sur-

prised Suz, too.

"You don't know?" The lizard froze in the middle of

getting back up on his tail. He looked like a golden pretzel.

"No, you don't! Oh, my. You'd better go to the castle at

once. Kazul will know what to do with you. I'd better go

there myself, right away." Suz untwisted and darted off into

the undergrowth.

"Wait!" I shouted. "What castle? Who is Kazul? And

why—"

The lizard looked back. "I don't have time for that! And

even if I did, I couldn't tell you. You have to find out

yourself; magic swords always work that way. Don't you

know anything?"

"Do you want me to recite the names of the Four Hundred

Minor Swords of Korred the Spellsmith? I know lots of

things; I just don't know about this. How do I find out?"

"Follow the sword, silly," Suz said, and disappeared

among the leaves.

I DIDN'T TRY to chase the lizard. For one thing, there wasn't

much point in it; Suz was small enough to hide practically

anywhere. For another, I didn't want to go running through

me Enchanted Forest. People get killed that way, or en-

chanted, or other unpleasant things. And besides, I wanted

to think.

I settled back against the tree and looked down at the

sword, a little unhappily. "Follow the sword," Suz had said.

But Mother had told me not to take it out unless I meant

to use it, and I didn't flunk "following" it was the kind of

use she meant. Besides, I wasn't sure I wanted to draw a

magic sword in the middle of the Enchanted Forest, espe-

cially one I didn't know anything about. I decided to try

something else.

I stood up and looked around. Over on my right there

was a little gap in the trees, not enough to call a clearing,

just a place where me trees were farther apart. I went over

to the middle of it and stood there while I tried to unfasten

the sheath. It was a lot more complicated than it looked;

finally I had to take the whole belt off. I wrapped the belt

around the sheath and set the whole thing down in the middle

of the open space. I backed up a couple of steps and sat

11

12 Patricia C. Wrede

down on the ground with the hilt of the sword closest to

me and the end of the sheath pointing away from me.

The woods had gone very, very quiet. I didn't like that,

but I would have felt stupid if I'd gotten up and picked up

the sword without doing anything. Besides, leaving things

half-finished can be awfully dangerous. I took a deep breath

and spoke as steadily as I could.

"Sword of the Sleeping King,

I conjure thee:

By stream and starlight,

By sun and shadow,

By song and stormwind,

Show me thy tale!"

It was the simplest spell I knew; almost the only one, in

fact. It's supposed to let the spell-caster know more about

the nature of whatever object is named in the first line of

the chant. I didn't think the spell would work quite the same

way on a magic sword, but it shouldn't do any harm, and

I was hoping to find out something useful. I finished the

spell, and everything was quiet for about two heartbeats.

Fast heartbeats; I was nervous. Then the world turned over.

That's what it felt like. The ground started shaking, and

the part under the sword pushed up until it made a mound

taller than I was. I didn't have much of a chance to look at

it; I was being rolled all over the open space and trying to

grab hold of something. Then everything went dark, and I

was falling, and a huge, deep voice said solemnly, "All hail

the Bearer of the Sword!"

And then it was over. I was lying on the ground in the

Enchanted Forest, trying to dig my way through the moss.

I stopped and waited. Nothing else happened, so I sat up

and looked around. I was still sitting in the same not-quite-

a-clearing, with the sword and sheath in the middle. The

sword...

The sword was standing upright, half-buried in a knee-

high mound that hadn't been there before. The blade was

about a handspan out of the sheath, and it glittered when

the sun got through the trees enough to hit it. I stood up

Talking to Dragons            13

and walked out. The mound was covered with moss, just

like the rest of the forest floor; it could have been there

forever. I shivered, wondering how I was going to get the

sheath out of the ground.

I put one hand on the hilt of the sword, intending to

shove it back down into the sheath. When my hand touched

the sword, my whole arm started to tingle. I jerked my hand

away and stared at the sword. It just sat there. I reached

out again, this time for the sheath.

As soon as I touched it, the sheath slid out of the ground.

The belt was still wrapped around it, and there wasn't any

dirt clinging to either of them. I touched the hilt again. It

still made my arm tingle, but this time I was ready for it,

and I shoved it back into the sheath. Then I stuffed the

swordbelt under my arm and started walking. I was sure

somebody must have noticed what had just happened, and

I didn't want to be around when they came to find out what

was going on.

I didn't stop again until midaftemoon. By then I was

hungry as well as tired; I'd forgotten to bring any food with

me, and I certainly couldn't go back for it now. I sighed

and sat down under another tree to rest and think some

more, but I didn't get much thinking done. Mostly, I stared

at the sword.

Finally, I gave up. Sitting under a tree wasn't going to

teach me anything. I stood up and buckled on the swordbelt.

As I adjusted it, my hand touched the hilt of the sword

again. Three little tingles ran up my arm before I pulled my

hand away. I looked at the sword for a moment, then shrugged

and reached for the hilt with my right hand, as if I were

going to draw it.

As soon as my hand touched the hilt, I felt the tingling.

This time I didn't let go; I concentrated on the way it felt

instead. I got three distinct impressions. One was a low,

sort of background vibration, like a kitten purring in its

sleep; one was a deep rumbling feeling; and one was a bright

buzz like a bee in a jar. Almost as soon as I figured them

out, they started to fade. In another minute they were com-

pletely gone, and they didn't come back.

I took my hand off the sword's hilt, then put it back. I

14 Patricia C. Wrede

didn't feel anything. I tried a couple more times, but what-

ever it was had stopped. I finally gave up and started walking

again. I wasn't getting anywhere trying to figure out the

sword, and I had to find somewhere to spend the night.

At least I didn't have to worry about giants; they live

farther east, by the Mountains of Morning. It occurred to

me suddenly that I didn't know where I was; I might be in

the Mountains of Morning for all I knew. It wasn't a par-

ticularly cheerful thought. I started walking more quietly.

I'd been walking for nearly half an hour when I realized

that I knew where I was going. Unfortunately, I didn't know

where I'd be when I got there. It was very odd, and I was

a little uneasy until I realized that I didn't have to go that

direction. I could just as easily turn around and walk the

other way, or go sideways. In fact, I did for a while, just

to prove I could.

After that I felt better, so I stopped avoiding whatever

it was and. started walking toward it again. I wasn't going

to get anywhere if I kept avoiding things; I might miss

something important. Besides, there isn't any way you can

avoid everything in the Enchanted Forest. This way, at least

I knew something was coming.

I was still walking very quietly when I heard the noises;

it sounded like somebody crying. I headed toward the sound,

wondering what I was getting myself into. You can't just

ignore something like that, especially in the Enchanted For-

est. On the other hand... I stopped, staring at a thick,

prickly hedge. It was taller than my head, and impossible

to see through, much less shove through. The crying was

coming from the other side.

I bent over. The bushes were much too close together

for me to crawl through them. I could make out sunlight

and long red hair and a brown tunic on the other side, but

not much else. I stood up and walked to one side, looking

for a thin spot in the hedge. It wasn't long before I realized

I was going in a circle. Terrific, I thought. I bet it goes all

the way around without breaking. I kept walking anyway,

just in case.

It didn't take long to make the full circle. I bent over

and peered through the bushes again. Suz might be able to

Talking to Dragons             15

get through, but I never would. I stood up and tapped lightly

on the outside of the bushes.

"Excuse me, please, but would you mind letting me

through?" I said as politely as I could.

The bushes rustled and pulled apart. I stared at them for

a minute; I hadn't really thought it would work. The bushes

rustled again; somehow they managed to sound impatient.

"Ah, thank you very much," I said, and stepped through.

The hedge closed behind me with a prim swish, and I

looked around. The inside of the hedge was a circular clear-

ing full of sunlight and the feel of magic. A red-haired girl

in a brown tunic was lying at one side of the clearing; she

sat up as I came in, and her face was tearstained.

"Who are you?" she demanded fiercely as soon as she

saw me. "And what do you want?" She looked about my

age, but I never was very good at guessing how old people

are.

"My name is Daystar," I said. "I heard you, um, crying,

and I wanted to see if I could do anything."

She looked at me suspiciously. "You just walked through

that hedge? Ha! I've been trying to get out of here all day.

It's not that easy. I think you're a wizard." I noticed some

scratches on her arms and some fuzzy places in the tunic

where it might have caught on branches or trees.

"I'm not a wizard. Maybe it's easier to get in than it is

to get out," I offered.

The red-haired girl sat back. "That could be true," she

said a little less belligerently. She eyed me skeptically; I

tried to look trustworthy. "Well, you don't look like a wiz-

ard," she said at last. "Can you get out again?"

"I don't know," I said.

"Well, try!" she said, "No, wait; I'll stand next to you

so I can get out, too. Then we'll both be rescued." She

jumped to her feet. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't really think I need to be rescued,"

I said. "I was looking for a place to spend the night and

this seems pretty safe. I'm not sure I want to leave just yet.

Besides, I don't know anything about you. Maybe I don't

want to rescue you."

\   "Oh, rats." The redhead sat down again. "I thought you

16 Patricia C. Wrede

might be a hero; you can talk them into anything. Stupid

creatures."

"Who are you?" I asked. "And why are you worried

about wizards?"

"I suppose it won't matter if I tell you," she said after

thinking for a minute. "They're chasing me. My name's

Shiara," she added.

"Wizards are chasing you? More than one?" I was im-

pressed. Wizards usually don't cooperate much, even the

ones who belong to the Society of Wizards. "What did you

do?"

Shiara hesitated, then threw her hair back over her shoul-

der with a toss of her head. "I," she said defiantly, "am a

fire-witch."

"You're a fire-witch?" Well, she had the red hair for it,

but that doesn't always mean someone is a fire-witch. She

must have heard the doubt in my voice, because she scowled

at me.

"I am a fire-witch! I am!"

"I didn't say you weren't," I said hastily. That only

seemed to make it worse.

"You don't believe me!" she said accusingly. "But I

am so a fire-witch! I am! I am!" She was shouting by the

time she finished. She glared at me, and her hair burst

into flame.

That settled it; she really was a fire-witch. "I believe

you, I believe you," I said. "Uh, shouldn't you do something

about your hair?"

Shiara burst into tears and her hair went out. I stood there

feeling silly and useless. Finally I remembered my hand-

kerchief; Mother made me carry one all the time, even

chopping wood, so I actually had it with me. I pulled it out

and offered it to her. After a couple of sniffs, she took it

and mopped her face, but she didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," I said finally. "I didn't mean to make you

mad."

"Well, you did," she snapped. She crumpled the hand-

kerchief into a little ball and threw it at me.

I caught it and stuffed it back into my pocket. "I said I

was sorry."

Talking to Dragons            17

"I can't help having a temper," Shiara said crossly. "All

fire-witches do."

"Really? I've never met one before. I've met heroes and

Princes, and once in a while even a wizard, but no fire-

witches. Does your hair always do that when you get mad?"

"No," she said. She looked like she was going to cry

again.

"Why are the wizards chasing you?" I asked hastily,

hoping it was a safer topic.

"I burned the Head Wizard's staff," Shiara said matter-

of-factly.

My jaw dropped about a foot. A wizard's staff is the

source of his power; furthermore, most wizards store spells

in them. Sort of an emergency reserve. A lot of the staffs

get passed down from one wizard to the next, accumulating

magic as they go. They're practically indestructible. They

get lost a lot and then found in the nick of time under peculiar

circumstances, but I'd never heard of one being destroyed

before. And the Head Wizard's staff...

"You burned a wizard's staff?" I managed finally.

"You bet." Shiara's eyes glinted at the memory. "He

deserved it, too. But the rest of them got mad. So I ran

away while they were arguing about what to do with me."

"And you came to the Enchanted Forest? On purpose?

Isn't that a little extreme? I mean, you could get, well,

enchanted. Or killed, or something. This place is danger-

ous."

"Having the whole Society of Wizards mad at you is just

as bad," she snapped.

I thought about it. She was right. "Why did you bum

the Head Wizard's staff?" I asked after a minute.

"I didn't like him," Shiara said shortly. I got the distinct

impression she didn't want to talk about it, so I decided to

change the subject again. Besides, my feet hurt.

"Would you mind if I sat down?" I asked. "I've been

doing a lot of walking today." She nodded. I moved the

sword out of the way and sat down; I was starting to get

the hang of it. Shiara saw the weapon and frowned.

"Are you sure you're not a hero or an apprentice hero

'» or something?"

18 Patricia C. Wrede

"I don't think I am," I said cautiously. "I'm not really

sure."

"You're not sure? Don't you know who you are?"

I blinked. I'd never really thought about it that way. "I

know who I am," I said. "I just don't know what I'm

supposed to be doing. Except finding out what I'm supposed

to be doing."

Shiara stared at me. "I don't believe it. Nobody comes

to the Enchanted Forest without some kind of reason."

"What's yours, then?" I said. I was getting a little tired

of people and animals and things not believing me.

"None of your business!" Shiara said. She was glaring

at me again. Then she jumped up and glared down at me.

"I want to leave," she announced. "Right now."

"All right," I said. "But I thought you couldn't get through

the hedge."

Shiara stamped her foot, and a little flame flared up from

it. "I can't! Open it for me! Right now!" She was really

mad, but at least this time her hair wasn't burning. I was

glad; watching someone glare at you with her hair on fire

is a little unnerving.

"I don't want to open the hedge yet," I said reasonably.

"I don't even know if I can. Besides, it could be dangerous.

There are wolves in this forest. And it's getting dark; there

could be nightshades out there already. That may not bother

a fire-witch, but—"

"I hate you!" Shiara cried. She sounded like she meant

it.

"Just because I don't want to get eaten by wolves or

driven mad by a nightshade or something?" I said, puzzled.

"What's wrong with that?"

Shiara didn't answer; she just turned her back on me. I

watched her for a minute, then sort of settled back on the

ground. Things were getting very complicated. I was lost

in the Enchanted Forest, with no food or water. I had a

magic sword I didn't want to use because it did strange

things to the ground. In another day or so I would probably

have a wizard looking for me. I still didn't have any idea

how I was going to figure out why Mother wanted me to

leave home. And then there was Shiara.

Talking to Dragons            19

Fire-witches are rare. Nobody can learn to be one; you're

either bom one or you're not. They're very powerful. They

can bum anything, of course, and fire doesn't hurt them at

all. Fire-witches can leam almost any kind of magic there

is. They're immune to most spells, too, which is why wiz-

ards usually don't like them much. Fire-witches can even

summon Elementals and get them to listen. Well, some-

times. And Shiara was a fire-witch. With enough power to

bum a wizard's staff. The Head Wizard's staff.

I didn't think I wanted her to be mad at me.

I didn't know what to do about it, though. I didn't even

know what I'd done wrong, and I wasn't at all sure what

to do next. What do you say to a mad fire-witch?

Right about then I heard snuffling noises; Shiara was

crying again. I sighed and dug out my handkerchief.

"I didn't mean to make you mad," I said as I watched

her mop her face again. "I just keep doing it by accident.

It'd make things a lot easier for both of us if you would tell

me what I'm doing wrong so I can stop."

Shiara looked at me over the top of the handkerchief,

which was starting to look sort of damp and wrinkled. "You

want to talk to me? You're not scared?" She lowered the

handkerchief and stared at me. "You mean it!"

"Of course I mean it," I said. "Why shouldn't I? And

why should I be scared?"

"I guess I'd better tell you," she said with a sigh.

THE PROBLEM WAS, Shiara was a fire-witch who couldn't

do anything. On purpose, I mean. Things happened some-

times when she got mad, and once in a while she could

make a spell work, but most of the time she couldn't make

anything happen. She didn't have very many friends because

everyone was afraid of her. I could understand that. I mean,

with a temper like hers and no way of telling what would

happen when she lost it, people had reason to be nervous.

On top of that, everyone kept telling her about all the

things she ought to be able to do because she was a fire-

witch. Like not worrying about nightshades; that was why

she got mad at me. She was awfully sick of being told about

what fire-witches could do, especially when she couldn't.

I couldn't blame her for getting mad.

And then somebody told the Society of Wizards about

this fire-witch who couldn't cast spells or anything. They

decided it would be a great chance to find out more about

fire-witches. As I said, wizards don't get along with fire-

witches very well. So a whole bunch of wizards came and

grabbed Shiara right out of the middle of town. Shiara didn't

like it; she liked it even less when she found out they wanted

her to stand in the middle of a circle of wizards while they

21

22              Patricia C. Wrede

threw spells at her to see what would work.

"I said no," Shiara told me. "And they said I didn't have

any choice. That's when I burned the Head Wizard's staff."

"They don't sound like the wizards I've met," I said.

Then I remembered Antorell. "Most of them, anyway."

"I don't care; I don't like wizards," Shiara said. I couldn't

blame her, and I said so. She nodded .and went on, "Any-

way, it turned out that the wizards had brought me to the

edge of the Enchanted Forest. They said something about

the magic in the forest and fire-witches' magic being related.

That was before I got away. So I decided to see if there

was somewhere in the forest I could find out how to use

my magic. Only then I stumbled in here and I couldn't get

out. I was afraid the wizards would catch up with me, and

I was tired and hungry and mad. That's why I was crying."

I wished she hadn't mentioned being hungry; I'd almost

forgotten that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. But there wasn't

anything inside the hedge to eat, and I wasn't going to try

opening it. I thought I'd already done enough experimenting

for one day, and besides, it was getting dark.

"What are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?" Shiara

asked when I didn't say anything.

"I don't know," I said.

"How can you not know?" she demanded. "I told you

why I came!"

So I explained about Mother and the wizard. Shiara was

very interested.

"I think I want to meet your mother," she said. "After I

learn how to use my magic. Do you think she'd be willing

to teach me how to melt a wizard?"

I said I didn't know.

"I don't see how you can find out what you're supposed

to be doing just by wandering about the Enchanted Forest,"

Shiara said.

"Well, you're planning to wander around until you find

out how to use your magic, aren't you?" I said. "I don't

think I really see the difference."

"I know what I'm doing!" Shiara said. "That's the dif-

ference."

"You don't seem to know very much about the Enchantee

\ )if«i-*>»f ••'

Talking to Dragons            23

Forest," I said. "Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten caught

by this hedge."

Shiara scowled, then looked suddenly thoughtful. "Is it

more dangerous to wander around the forest alone than it

is with someone?"

"It depends," I said. "Two people can attract more at-

tention than one, but sooner or later everyone in the En-

chanted Forest runs into something dangerous. And when

you do get into trouble, it's sort of nice to have someone

around to help."

"Why don't we stay together, then?" Shiara said. "After

we get out of this stupid hedge, I mean. As long as neither

of us knows exactly where we're supposed to be going, we

might as well wander in the same direction."

"All right," I said. It sounded like a good idea, especially

since it's hard to run into someone completely by accident

in the Enchanted Forest.

Then Shiara made me describe Antorell in detail. She

decided that he didn't sound like any of the wizards who

had kidnapped her. I wasn't sure whether that was good or

bad. I was beginning to like Shiara; she was sort of nice

when she wasn't mad. But if we were going to stick together,

we would have two sets of wizards looking for us, and that

didn't sound too good. Shiara was still curious, so I wound

up telling her about the sword and the lizard and everything,

too.

"The Sword of the Sleeping King," she said thoughtfully

when I finished. "Well, it sounds important. Can you do

that spell again? I'd like to watch; maybe I could figure it

out."

"I could do it, but I won't," I said. "Once was enough."

"You scared or something?" Shiara said scornfully.

"I'm not being scared, I'm being sensible," I said. "That

was no minor magic I set off. Are you trying to attract

attention?"

"No, I suppose you're right. Will you let me see it, at

least?"

"Sure, if you promise not to take it out of the sheath or

say any spells at it or anything," I said. I stood up and

,started trying to unbuckle the belt. It was hard to do in the

24 Patricia C. Wrede

daik. Finally Shiara got tired of waiting and came and helped.

It still took a while, and my elbows got in the way again,

but finally we managed to get the swordbelt off. Shiara took

the sheath and squinted at the parts of the sword that showed.

"I can't see anything," she complained.

"There isn't much to see," I said. "Besides, it's dark.

Maybe we should wait until tomorrow."

"I wanted to see it now. Oh, all right." She handed it

back, hilt first. I took it and nearly let go again right away.

The tingling was back, the one that reminded me of a bee,

and it was a lot stronger than it had been before.

"Watch out!" Shiara said. "You almost dropped it."

"It's tingling again," I said.

"It is? Let me see." I handed the sword back, and Shiara

touched the hilt. "I don't feel anything. Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." I reached out and put my hand on

the hilt, next to Shiara's.

"Ow!" I said, and Shiara went, "Oh!" and we both dropped

the sword. We looked at each other for a minute.

"What did it feel like to you?" I said finally.

"Like something pulling at me," Shiara said. She eyed

the sword. "You can have it back; I don't think I want to

look at it anymore."

I picked up the sword and put it back on. I still wanted

to know what it was doing, but I didn't want to do any more

messing around with it in the dark. Shiara and I talked about

it for a while, but we were both tired, and finally we decided

to just go to sleep. We would have plenty of time to ex-

periment in the morning if we still felt like it.

Spending the night in the Enchanted Forest sounds aw-

fully exciting, but it isn't really. Either you stay up all night

so the wolves and nightshades and things won't get you and

they don't, or you fall asleep and they do, or you find

someplace safe and sleep there and never know. We slept

all night, at least I did, and when we woke up in the morning

the hedge was still there.

By that time I was really hungry, and since there wasn't

anything to eat inside the hedge I was anxious to leave. So

was Shiara; she was still worried about the Society of Wiz-

ards. We got up and brushed the moss off our clothes, and

Talking to Dragons            25

I checked the sword, just to be safe.

"Will you quit fussing with that and come open this stupid

hedge?" Shiara said.

I walked over to the bushes. They looked very dense and

very prickly. "Excuse me," I said to the hedge. "I would

like to thank you for keeping the wolves and things out all

night, and I would very much appreciate it if you would let

me through now."

"That's the dumbest..." Shiara began, and the bushes

rustled and parted. I grinned and stepped through. The

branches shut behind me with a snap. "Ow!" said Shiara.

I turned around. She was still on the other side of the hedge.

"What happened?" I yelled.

"What do you think happened? And you don't have to

shout; I'm not that far away."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Make it open up again!"

"I'll try," I said doubtfully. I addressed the bushes again.

"Excuse me, but you seem to have a friend of mine inside,

and she can't get out. Will you please let her through?"

The bushes rustled smugly and didn't move apart at all.

"I'd really appreciate it if you would let her out," I said.

"She's nicer than you think." The bushes rustled again. This

time they sounded skeptical. They still didn't open.

"Well?" said Shiara's voice.

I sighed. 'They won't open up. I'm afraid you'll have

to apologize."

"Apologize? To a bush?" Shiara sounded outraged. "I

won't! I'll bum this hedge to cinders! I'll— Ow!"

"I really think you'd better apologize," I said. "Otherwise

you probably won't be able to get out until the wizards

come."

There was silence for a while. Finally Shiara said, "Oh,

all right. I'm sorry I said you were a stupid hedge." She

paused. "Now will you please let me through?"

Reluctantly, the bushes pulled apart. Shiara sighed with

relief and stepped through. She almost didn't make it; the

bushes closed again so fast they caught a piece of her tunic.

"Hey!" she said. "Stop that!"

i "I hate to mention this," I said as I helped Shiara work

26 Patricia C. Wrede

her tunic free, "but you really ought to be more polite."

"To lizards and bushes? Ha!" She jerked her tunic free

and glared at the hedge.

"I mean it," I said. "It only gets you into trouble when

you're not."

"I'm a fire-witch," Shiara said sullenly. "People are sup-

posed to be polite to me."

"I thought you didn't like having everyone scared of

you," I said. I turned to the bush. "Thank you very much,"

I told it.

The branches rustled politely. I turned back to Shiara,

who was watching me with her mouth open. "If you act

like that all the time, I don't think people would like you

much even if you weren't a fire-witch. Good-bye." I turned

around and started walking.

"Wait!" I stopped. Shiara ran up beside me. "I—I'm

sorry. I guess I'm not used to being nice to people."

"That could really get you in trouble in the Enchanted

Forest," I said.

Shiara looked back over her shoulder at the hedge and

shuddered. "I guess you're right. Well, I'll try."

"All right. Let's find something to eat."

That was easier to say than do. We found a bush that

had some berries on it, but half of them were blue and half

were red. I wasn't quite hungry enough to take a chance

on them, and neither was Shiara. She thought about it, but

finally decided not to. "If my fire-magic doesn't always

work, my immunity to magic might not always work, either,"

she said. "I'd hate to turn into something awful just because

of a few berries." I thought that was very sensible. We kept

going.

Eventually we found a clearing full of blackberry bram-

bles. It looked very odd sitting there in the middle of the

Enchanted Forest; it was too ordinary. The berries were full

of seeds, but we ate a lot of them anyway. I picked some

extras and tied them up in my handkerchief for later. When

we finished, we started walking again.

It wasn't a very exciting walk. The woods looked just

the same. The trees didn't get any smaller, the moss still

covered the ground, and every once in a while there was a

Talking to Dragons            27

peculiar bush growing next to one of the trees. It would

have gotten boring after a while if Shiara hadn't been there.

It was sort of nice to have someone my own age to talk to;

I'd never had any friends. Most people didn't want their

children getting as close to the Enchanted Forest as we lived,

so we never had any visitors except the Princes and so on.

I told Shiara about living at the edge of the forest, and she

told me about the town she lived in. It was very interesting,

to me, anyway.

By the middle of the morning we were both getting hun-

gry again. Blackberries don't stick with you for long. We

stopped and got out the berries I'd saved in my handkerchief.

They were sort of squashed and messy, but they tasted fine.

Then we started walking again. It was a warm day, and by

the time we saw the stream we were both very thirsty.

"Water! Oh, great!" Shiara said as we reached the bank.

It was a small stream, ankle deep and a little too wide to

jump. I could see the pebbles on the bottom. Shiara knelt

on the bank and reached down.

"Wait a minute!" I said. "You shouldn't just drink that.

You could turn into a rabbit, or lose your memory, or

disappear, or something."

Shiara looked at me. Then she looked at the stream. "I

don't care," she said finally. "I'm thirsty." She leaned back

toward the water.

"But what if— Watch out!" I grabbed Shiara and pulled

her away just as a huge swirl of muddy water came rushing

down the stream. She scrambled back and stood up, and

we watched the stream for a minute. It was now almost a

river, deep and fast and angry.

Shiara looked at me. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. I guess we'll have to go back—" I

started to turn back toward the woods and stopped in mid-

sentence. There was dark water on that side of us, too. We

were standing on an island. A very small island. It was

getting smaller every minute.

I stared at the churning water, and my hand went to my

sword. I don't know why; swords usually aren't much good

against floods. As soon as I touched the hilt I knew that it

' wasn't in the nature of this particular stream to do this sort

28              Patricia C. Wrede

of thing. I didn't know how I knew, but I was sure someone

was creating the Hood.

Right about then I heard a chuckle. Not a nice chuckle.

I was looking around for the chuckler when Shiara grabbed

my arm. "Daystar! Over there!"

I turned. A man was leaning against one of the trees. He

had blue robes and black hair and a wizard's staff in one

hand. I'd never seen him before. He was watching Shiara.

"Well, little fire-witch, I seem to have caught you again,"

he said.

"You leave me alone!" Shiara shouted. "Or I'll bum your

staff, too."

The wizard chuckled again. He really had a nasty chuckle.

"Oh, I don't think so," he said. "I've taken precautions,

you see." He waved at the water that surrounded us and

smiled patronizingly. "Or weren't you aware that fire-magic

won't cross water?"

"Magic may not cross water, but we can," I said. I was

beginning to share Shiara's dislike of wizards. "Come on,

Shiara It can't be very deep."

"Where did you find the hero?" the wizard asked. Shiara

just glared at him. The wizard laughed. I didn't like his

laugh any better than his chuckle. "I should give him some-

thing to do, don't you think? A monster, perhaps. Heroes

like monsters." He waved his staff in the general direction

of the flooding stream.

Part of the water on one side of our island started to

bunch up and solidify. Once it got started, it went pretty

fast. I didn't even have time to step back before the thing

was finished growing. It looked sort of like a giant snake's

head that dripped. The outlines kept changing because it

was made out of water that wasn't completely solid, but it

was pretty clearly a snake.

It lunged at me. I dodged and drew my sword. I almost

didn't make it. Shiara yelled, and there was a puff of steam

from the snake's head. The snake didn't seem particularly

hurt; some of the stream water bunched up around it, but

that was all. I heard the wizard laugh again.

"I'm afraid that won't work very well, young lady," he

said. "You'd have to boil the whole stream away to get rid

30 Patricia C. Wrede

of my monster, and I don't think you can. Pity, isn't it? Be

patient; you'll have your turn in another minute, and then

the Head Wizard will owe me a favor."

The head lunged again. By now I was ready for it, but

it was awfully fast. I dodged again and struck at it with the

sword, even though I wasn't sure what good it would do

me to wound something that wasn't even alive. I found out

in a hurry.

The sword made a humming noise, and I heard the wizard

yell. There was a sound like an explosion. The snake head

made a bubbly noise and collapsed in a wave of muddy

water. I got soaked. The floodwater drained away, leaving

a lot of wet moss. And Shiara yelled again.

I whirled around. Shiara was pointing; it took me a sec-

ond to realize what she was pointing at. It was the big tree

that the wizard had been leaning against. A couple of short

branches were lying at the foot of the tree. The wizard was

gone.

I STOOD WHERE I was, panting and dripping. When I got

my breath back, I went over to the tree. There was no sign

of the wizard except for the "branches" I'd noticed. There

were three of mem, and they weren't branches. They were

pieces of a staff.

I looked at Shiara. "That's two wizard's staffs you've

broken," I said. "They're really going to be after you now."

"I didn't break it," Shiara said indignantly. "You did."

"I did not," I said. We looked at each other for a minute.

"If neither of us broke it," Shiara said finally, "who did?"

"Me," said a voice. I looked up. A little man was sitting

in the branches of the tree. He was about two feet tall and

dressed entirely in green. His eyes were black and very

bright, and his ears were slightly pointed. He had to be an

elf.

"I think you mean 'I,'" I said automatically.

"I shouldn't wonder if you're right," the elf said thought-

fully. He tilted his head to one side. "Does it matter?"

"Can you get down from that tree?" Shiara said. "You're

giving me a crick in my neck."

The elf looked from me to Shiara and back to me again.

"Introduce me to your charming companion," he said.

31

32 Patricia C. Wrede

"Oh, excuse me," I said. I told the elf our names and

thanked him for taking care of the wizard. I was a little

curious about that. I'd never met an elf, but they didn't

have a reputation for altruism. I wasn't sure I wanted to

trust one, either. Elves can be very tricky.

"You're welcome," the elf said. "I've never cared much

for wizards. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to do anything

permanent to them. This one will be back in a day or two."

"If there is anything we can do for you in return, I would

like to hear what it is," I said. If someone in the Enchanted

Forest does you a favor, you have to offer to do one for

them. Well, you don't have to, but if you don't, things seem

to go wrong a lot after that. You have to be careful, though;

if you promise to do a favor before you hear what it is, you

can end up in more trouble than you started with. I wasn't

going to promise anything without finding out first what I

was promising.

"Consider the debt canceled," the elf said politely. I

thought he sounded disappointed, and I didn't like the way

he was looking at my sword. Suddenly I was very glad

Mother had told me about making promises in the Enchanted

Forest.

"Thank you," I said. "You did a very neat job." He had,

too; the staff had been sliced cleanly into thirds. I began to

wonder how he had done it. I hadn't thought elves were

powerful enough to break a wizard's staff. I didn't really

want to ask, though; he might take offense or something.

"You may have the staff, if you want it," the elf said,

waving at the pieces.

"What good is a busted wizard's staff?" Shiara said.

"You can't do anything with it."

"Nonsense," said the elf. "Wizard's staffs are just as

powerful in pieces as they are whole, and they're fairly easy

to put back together. So please, take it with you."

I didn't like the way he kept suggesting that. It sounded

reasonable enough, but as I said, I wasn't sure I wanted to

trust him. "Are you sure you don't want it?" I asked finally.

"What would an elf do with a wizard's staff? If you don't

take it, I'll just have to get rid of it somewhere."

Talking to Dragons            33

That sounded reasonable, too. I wasn't going to commit

myself, though; he was too insistent. "Thank you for the

suggestion," I said. "We'll think about it."

"Do," the elf said. His black eyes twinkled. "Perhaps

I'll see you later. Good-bye." Before I could say anything

he had disappeared into the treetops. Elves move very

quickly.

"What was that about?" Shiara demanded.

"I don't know about that elf," I said slowly. "I think

something funny is going on; he was trying too hard to get

us to take that staff."

"Well, we have to do something with it," Shiara said.

"Why?" I said. "We didn't break it. And I don't want

to mess with a wizard's staff, even a broken one."

Shiara frowned. I made a gesture toward the pieces and

realized that I was still holding the sword in my hand. I

started to put it back in its sheath, then stopped. The sheath

was as wet as everything else I was wearing; I couldn't put

the sword in that. I mean, not all magic swords are rustproof,

and even if you have one that is, putting your sword away

without cleaning it is a bad habit to get into. I checked my

pockets, just in case, but even my handkerchief was wet.

"Shiara, do you have anything I could borrow to dry my

sword?" I asked finally. "Everything I have is soaked."

"What does that have to do with the wizard's staff? Oh,

give it here; I'll fix it." She held out her hand, a little

reluctantly. I could see she didn't really want to take the

sword. After what had happened the last time she'd touched

it, I really couldn't blame her.

"That's all right, I'll do it," I said. "It's my job. All I

need is something dry to wipe it with."

Shiara glared at me. "All I have is my tunic, and I am

not going to take it off just so you can dry your stupid

sword! If you won't give it to me, it can rust."

My face got very hot. "I, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I

mean, I didn't think..."

"Oh, shut up and give me the sword."

I held it out. Shiara took it, a little gingerly, but neither

of us felt anything unusual. While she wiped it dry on the

34

Patricia C. Wrede

Talking to Dragons

35

front of her tunic, I walked over to the stream. I was pretty

sure, now, that it was safe to drink from this stream. I'd

swallowed some of it when the wizard's wave had hit me,

and nothing had happened to me yet. I bent over and took

a drink.

The water was clean and cold, with just a hint of lime.

It tasted awfully good, though I prefer the lemon-flavored

streams myself. However, I wasn't exactly in a position to

be picky. I think I like lemon because Mother and I got

most of our drinking water from a lemon-flavored stream

just inside the forest. It was much nicer than the well water

we used for washing, even if it was more work to haul the

buckets that far.

Shiara came over just as I finished. She looked at me

for a minute, then handed me the sword. "Here." I took it,

and she sat down and started trying to drink out of her

cupped hands. Most of the water ran out, but she kept trying.

I stood holding the sword and wondering what I was

going to do with it. I mean, walking through the Enchanted

Forest with a sword in your hand is just asking for trouble.

On the other hand, I couldn't put it away until the sheath

dried out, and that would probably take hours. I was still

trying to figure out what to do when Shiara finished drinking

and sat up.

"Now, what are we going to do about that wizard's staff?"

she said.

Neither one of us wanted to take it. Shiara wanted to

hide the pieces before we left, and finally I agreed. We

walked back over to the tree. I started to put my sword

down; then I changed my mind. One of the easiest ways of

losing important things in the Enchanted Forest is to put

them down while you do something else; when you get

back, they're gone. Then you have to go to all the bother

of finding whoever took your things before you can get on

with whatever you really want to do. I shifted the sword

into my left hand and looked around for the nearest piece

of staff.

"Daystar! Come see!" Shiara was waving a piece of the

staff to attract my attention.

"You really shouldn't do that," I said as I walked over.

"You might set off a spell or something. This used to be a

wizard's staff, remember? We ought to at least try to be

careful."

"Yes, but look what it did," Shiara said, pointing. I

looked down. There was a brown patch in the moss, just

the size and shape of the stick Shiara was holding. I bent

over and looked more closely. The moss was dry and brittle;

the stems broke as soon as I touched them.

"But this is the Enchanted Forest," I said to no one in

particular. "You aren't supposed to be able to do things like

this."

"Well, this wizard's staff did," Shiara said. "I bet it'll

do it again, too." Before I could stop her, she laid the stick

down on the moss. She picked it up almost immediately.

The moss underneath it was brown and dead. I stared.

"I don't like this," I said. There aren't very many things

you can be sure of in the Enchanted Forest, but I'd never

seen a dead plant there, not even in the Outer Forest. The

whole place felt too alive to put up with that sort of thing.

"I wonder if all wizard's staffs do that."

"I don't know about other staffs, but we can check the

other pieces of this one," Shiara said. She walked toward

one of the other two sticks. I sighed and started for the last

one.

"This one's the same," Shiara reported after a minute.

"What about yours?"

"Just a minute," I said. I bent over and picked it up in

my right hand.

When I woke up, Shiara was dripping water on my face.

"You can stop now," I said. "I'm wet enough already."

Shiara shook her head. "Are you all right? I mean, you're

not enchanted or anything, are you?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I don't think so, but

if I am, we'll find out pretty soon." I sat up and realized

I'd been lying on the moss at the foot of the tree. "What

happened?"

"How should I know? One minute you were standing

there with that sword, and then there was some kind of

explosion and when I turned around you were lying on the

ground and that piece of the wizard's staff was over there,

36 Patricia C. Wrede

burning. I don't think anyone's going to put that staff back

together again; it was the middle piece." Shiara scowled.

"But I think you were right about that elf."

"Where's my sword?" I said. All of a sudden I was sure

someone had taken it while Shiara and I weren't paying

attention.

"In your hand," Shiara said. She sounded a little exas-

perated. "You wouldn't let go of it."

I looked down. She was right; my left hand was still

clenched around the hilt. When I relaxed my hand a little,

the fingers started to tingle. I'd been holding the hilt so

tightly that my hand had fallen asleep.

Well, at least I hadn't lost it. I started to shift the sword

back to my right hand, then stopped and swallowed hard.

The hand was burned black; I couldn't even feel it. I looked

away, feeling sick. Shiara was staring, too.

"Daystar, I didn't notice, I was so worried about waking

you up I didn't even see—" She stopped. She tilted her

head back until she was looking up the tree trunk, and her

eyes flashed. "I'm going to find you somebody who can fix

this," she said grimly. "And then I'm going to find that

stupid elf and make him sorry he ever mentioned that wiz-

ard's staff." The way she said it made me very, very glad

I wasn't an elf, particularly the elf she'd be looking for.

"It doesn't really hurt or anything," I offered. As soon

as I said it, my arm started to throb. Not the hand; it was

my wrist and arm that hurt. As far as I was concerned, that

was more than enough.

"That's bad," Shiara said. She looked worried. "I know

a little about bums, from the times when I... Are you sure

you can't feel anything?"

"Not in my hand," I said. "And I'd really rather not talk

about it. It might help me not notice the way my arm feels."

"Well, let me look at it, then, and I won't have to ask

questions," Shiara said.

I stuck my right hand out in her direction and stared at

my sword for a couple of minutes. I didn't succeed in

ignoring the sensations that were coming from my arm, but

I tried awfully hard. Finally Shiara said, "You can put it

down now." I looked back in her direction.

Talking to Dragons            37

"It's bad," she said. "I don't know what to do for it,

either. We have to find help, and pretty soon, too. There

has to be someone in this forest who knows something about

healing! Can you walk?"

"My legs are all right," I said. I started to stand up and

discovered I was very dizzy. I made it on the second try,

but only by using the sword as a prop.

Shiara picked a direction and we started walking. After

about twenty steps I stopped worrying about which way we

were going and concentrated on walking and hanging on to

the sword. It was hard; I was still dizzy, and I was beginning

to feel cold, too. I had to work at it. My arm felt as if it

were on fire, and I started wondering whether the wizard's

staff had done something else nasty in addition to burning

my hand.

I don't know how far we went before we stopped. By

that time, Shiara was holding my good arm, trying to help

me walk. She wasn't as much help as she could have been,

because she had to keep out of the way of the sword I was

holding. As soon as we quit walking, I sat down.

"Daystar, are you sure you can't put that sword away

yet?" Shiara asked. "It gets in the way a lot."

"The sheath is still wet," I said hazily.

"Well, can we at least put the sheath in the sun so it'll

dry faster?" Shiara said.

I looked around. I was starting to feel sort of light-headed

as well as dizzy, and on top of everything I was getting

thirsty. "We can't do that," I said. "The cat has the only

patch of sun around here."

"What cat?"

"That one." I pointed at the large, dignified, black-and-

white cat that was cleaning its face in the middle of a puddle

of sunlight. It didn't even strike me as odd that I hadn't

noticed it until I started talking about it.

Shiara turned her head. As soon as she looked at it, the

cat stopped washing itself. It stared at her for a minute, then

stood up. The tip of its tail twitched three times, and it

turned around and started walking away. After a minute, it

stopped and looked back over its shoulder. It was obviously

waiting.

38             Patricia C. Wrede

Shiara jumped up. "Come on, Daystar. We're going to

follow the cat. I think somebody sent it."

"That doesn't make sense," I said, but I wasn't in very

good shape to argue. Eventually, Shiara got me back on my

feet. The cat was still waiting for us, but as soon as we

moved in its direction it started walking again. I decided

Shiara was right and concentrated OK walking.

I don't know how far we followed the cat. It seemed like

a long way, but anything would have seemed like a long

way at that point. My arm hurt, and every muscle in my

body felt shaky. I never quite dropped the sword, but a

couple of times I came close. After a while I stopped think-

ing about it.

Finally Shiara stopped moving. "I was about ready for

another rest," I said fuzzily. "Is the cat still around?"

"This isn't a rest," Shiara said. "We're here."

I looked up. We were standing in front of a neat grey

house with a wide porch and a red roof. A wisp of smoke

was coming out of the chimney; whatever was cooking

smelled delicious. Over the door was a black-and-gold sign

in block letters, which read NONE OF THIS NONSENSE,

PLEASE. I'm going to like whoever lives here, I thought.

The door of the house was closed, but the black-and-

white cat jumped up on the porch and scratched at it. A

moment later, the door swung partway open and the cat

disappeared inside.

WE STAYED WHERE we were for a minute, waiting. I don't

think either one of us really knew what to do next. Fortu-

nately, we didn't have to do anything; a few minutes after

the cat vanished, the door opened the rest of the way and

the owner of the house appeared.

She was dressed in a very loose black robe with long

sleeves, and she was wearing a small pair of glasses with

rectangular lenses. She was considerably shorter than I was,

though she obviously wasn't a dwarf. She managed to look

down her nose at both of us anyway. Standing on the porch

helped, I think. "It's about time you got here," she said.

"Do you know anything about healing?" Shiara de-

manded.

"Of course I do, or I wouldn't have sent Quiz out to get

you," said the woman.

"Quiz?"

"The cat. Do you plan to stand there all day? I certainly

can't do anything for you while you're outside."

So we went inside. The porch steps didn't creak. Neither

did the porch, and the hinges of the door didn't squeak at

all, either. I didn't think they would dare.

The inside of the house seemed to consist of a single

40              Patricia C. Wrede

large, airy room, full of cats. Practically every flat surface

had a cat lying on it, except the top of the stove in the

comer. I counted five cats before I stopped. Several of

the cats had furniture under them, and there was a table

in the middle of the room and another door next to the

stove.

The woman in the black robe shooed two of the cats off

of chairs, and Shiara and I sat down at the table. Shiara

looked at me. "You can put that stupid sword down now.

No one's going to take it."

"No," I said. I didn't know why I wanted to hold on to

the sword, and I didn't have enough energy to explain it if

I had known. I just knew I wanted it in my hand.

"Sword?" said the woman in black. "Oh, that sword. It's

quite proper of you to keep it for now. Now, if I may see

your hand?" She came over next to me and examined my

right arm, while I carefully didn't watch. Oddly enough, it

didn't hurt when she touched it. After a minute or so, she

nodded.

"Just as I thought. This could have been very bad, but

you got here in plenty of time." She went over to a cupboard

by the stove and took out a piece of something that looked

like dried vine. She brought it back to me and tied it around

my arm, muttering something as she did. Suddenly my head

wasn't fuzzy anymore.

"That should take care of things for the time being," she

said, "and in a little while I can take care of the magic.

Then we can pack the bums with salve. Would you like

some cider while you wait?"

I nodded; I was still thirsty. Shiara frowned. "Can't you

do anything right away?"

"I have done something," the woman said. She set three

mugs on the table, all different. "Several things, in fact. I

sent Quiz out to bring you here, and I have stopped the

damage from spreading. I have also made gingerbread, which

should finish baking any minute now. When it's done, we

can get on with things."

"Why did you send a cat out for us?" Shiara demanded.

"How did you know? Who are you, anyway?"

The woman looked through her glasses. "I didn't have

Talking to Dragons

41

a dog to send. I'm a witch. My name is Morwen. And you?"

She stopped. The cats looked at us.

"Pleased to meet you," I said. "This is Shiara, and I'm

Daystar."

"Why do we have to wait?" Shiara asked again.

"It is an extremely bad idea to mix magic and cooking,"

Morwen said. "Don't worry, the gingerbread won't take

very much longer." She got out a large jug and began pour-

ing the contents into the mugs. "There!" she said as she set

the jug down. "Help yourselves; I will be back in a minute."

Morwen went over to the second door and opened it. I

got a glimpse of a small yard with a square garden, a well,

and two more cats. Then the door closed with a swish of

black robe. I stared at my mug, wondering how I was going

to pick it up without putting my sword down. Then I heard

a sniffle. I turned my head. Shiara was not crying. Much.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"It's all my f-fault!" Shiara said miserably. "If you hadn't

been with me, you wouldn't have run into that wizard at

all, and if I hadn't insisted on hiding that stupid staff, you

wouldn't have gotten your hand.. ."Her voice sort of trailed

off into snuffles. I sighed.

"If you want my handkerchief, you'll have to get it out

yourself," I said. "And it's probably still pretty wet. But

you can have it if you want it."

That made Shiara look like she was really going to burst

into tears. Fortunately, the witch came back before she

could. Morwen was carrying an armload of plants; when

she saw Shiara, she put them down on the table and produced

a large black handkerchief from somewhere inside her sleeve.

"That is quite enough of that," she said, handing the

handkerchief to Shiara. "It does nothing constructive, it

makes everyone else feel bad, and it is extremely self-

indulgent. Drink your cider; you'll feel much better."

Just then one of the cats made a loud noise, sort of a

cross between a purr and a meow. "Good; the gingerbread

is done," Morwen said. She got it out of the oven and gave

us each a piece. Shiara looked much better by that time,

even if she still didn't seem really happy. Morwen put a

large pot of water on the stove and then started sorting

42 Patricia C. Wrede

through the plants she had brought in. After a minute, she

frowned.

"Two sprays or three?" she muttered. "I suppose I'd

better look it up." She put the plants down and went out

again. A few seconds later, she came back holding a book;

I saw a roomful of shelves behind her before the door closed.

I blinked. My head didn't feel fuzzy; but I was sure that

door had led out to the yard a minute ago. I looked around

the room, but there weren't any other doors except the one

we'd come in through. Finally I decided to ask. It took me

another minute to figure out how to phrase the question.

"Excuse me, Morwen? Would you mind telling me where

that door leads?"

Morwen stuck a finger in the book and looked up. "Wher-

ever I want to get to. What good is a door if you can't get

somewhere useful by walking through it? Within reason, of

course." She went back to the book. I thought about it for

a minute. Then I decided not to think about it; I was afraid

it was going to make sense.

Instead, I looked at my cider and gingerbread. I was just

about ready to put the sword on the floor so I could eat,

when Morwen set the book down next to the plants and

looked over at me.

"Daystar, you aren't— Oh, of course, you're still hold-

ing the sword. No, don't put it down yet; this will only take

a few more minutes." She picked up a handful of plants.

"Come here, please, both of you."

I got up and walked over; so did Shiara. Morwen had

me stand next to the stove, holding the sword across the

front of my chest so that the tip of it rested on the pot of

water. Shiara was behind me, with one hand on my right

arm just above the dried vine. It took a while before Morwen

was satisfied with our positions, but finally she stepped

back. "Very good. Stay just like that until I'm finished,

please."

She reached inside one of her sleeves and brought out a

silver knife. She dipped the knife in the pot of water, then

began muttering over the plants she was holding. Imme-

diately, all the cats jumped down onto the floor and formed

a half circle around the stove, with Morwen and Shiara and

Talking to Dragons            43

me in the middle. They just sat there with their eyes glowing

and only the tips of their tails moving in tiny twitches.

Suddenly, there was a sizzling noise from my right; the

water was boiling.

Morwen gave a shout. Then she held the plants high over

her head and said loudly:

"By the darkness of the stone's heart,

By the silence of the sea's tears,

By the whisper of the sky's breath,

By the dawning of the star's flame,

Do as I will thee!"

Just as she finished she threw the plants into the boiling

water.

There was a big puff of steam from the pot that smelled

of herbs and magic and gingerbread, and I sneezed. The

steam spread out around me and got thicker. It smelled more

and more like herbs and magic and less and less like gin-

gerbread. My right arm started to ache, and my left arm

started to tingle. The ache got stronger, but it stayed where

it was; the tingle spread. In another second or two I was

tingling all over, except for the arm that was aching.

By now the steam was so thick I couldn't see anything,

but I could still feel Shiara's hand and the vine Morwen

had tied around my arm. For what seemed like a long time,

nothing else happened. Then one of the cats yowled. I saw

Morwen's hand, the one holding the silver knife, come out

of the mist. "In the King's name!" Morwen's voice said,

and the knife cut the vine from my arm and pulled away.

My sword flashed once, very brightly. Most of the steam

settled on my right arm and turned black. The ache started

to creep upward, and something that felt like lightning or

wind ran up my left arm and down my right one. I heard

Shiara gasp. The black steam stuff dropped off my arm into

a slimy blob on the floor. Finally, my right arm stopped

hurting, and my other arm stopped tingling, and everything

felt normal again. I let my breath out and looked around.

Morwen was looking in my direction with an expression

of extreme distaste. "That," she said, "was an exceptionally

Talking to Dragons            45

r nasty wizard. He deserves what's coming to him."

|   "What's coming to him?" Shiara asked.

"I don't know, but he certainly deserves it," Morwen

said. "Anyone who would keep a spell like that in a staff..."

She shook her head and looked down. "I do hope it doesn't

disagree with the cats."

I followed her gaze. The cats had formed a small mob

and were playing with something I'd rather not describe in

detail. I looked up again very quickly and took a step back-

ward. I bumped into Shiara and remembered that Morwen

had said not to move until she was finished. "I'm sorry,"

I said to both of them.

"It's quite all right; you can sit down again now," Morwen

said. "And if you don't want to put your sword in your

sheath, you can lean it against the wall. You won't need it

anymore, for the time being, at least."

I followed Morwen's instructions and sat down at the

table again. I didn't realize until I reached for the ginger-

|, bread that although my right hand felt better it didn't look

| any better. I didn't have time to worry about it, though;

t Morwen was already standing by my chair with some oily-

|| looking salve and bandages. She worked on my hand while

H I ate gingerbread and cider left-handed. We finished about

the same time, and I thanked her.

"You're welcome," Morwen said. "Now, perhaps you

would explain how you got into such an uncomfortable

situation? I have a general idea, but I would appreciate a

few details."

I told her about the wizard and the elf, and then Shiara

explained how the staff had exploded.

"Of course the staff exploded!" Morwen said severely.

"That sword doesn't like wizard's staffs; nearly everyone

knows that, or ought to. Next time, make sure it's sheathed

before you touch one."