CONTENTS
MOTHER TAUGHT ME to be polite to dragons. Particularly polite, I mean; she taught me to be ordinary polite to everyone. 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, dragons 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 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 Pear lat 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; somehow 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.”
“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 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 impressive.
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’ll-have-to-do look. I started to worry.
Mother picked up the swordbelt. “This is for you, Daystar.” 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 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 mid-sentence. 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 disappeared inside.
I started off toward the Enchanted Forest. Mother’s advice 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 Enchanted 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 fifteen 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 anyone, so I decided to get untangled first. I straightened my 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 extraordinary. 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 immediately. Oh, dear, what a stir this will cause!”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t know. What’s the Sword of the Sleeping King?” I’d never heard of it before, which rather surprised 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 surprised 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 the Enchanted Forest. People get killed that way, or enchanted, 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, especially 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 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 kneehigh 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 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 mid-afternoon. 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 completely gone, and they didn’t come back.
I took my hand off the sword’s hilt, then put it back. I didn’t feel anything. I tried a couple more times, but whatever 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 particularly 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 Forest. 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 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 clearing 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 wizard,” 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 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 impressed. 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 shoulder 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 handkerchief; 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 handkerchief into a little ball and threw it at me.
I caught it and stuffed it back into my pocket. “I said I was sorry.”
“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 dangerous.”
“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?”
“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.
Fire-witches are rare. Nobody can learn to be one; you’re either born one or you’re not. They’re very powerful. They can burn anything, of course, and fire doesn’t hurt them at all. Fire-witches can learn almost any kind of magic there is. They’re immune to most spells, too, which is why wizards usually don’t like them much. Fire-witches can even summon Elementals and get them to listen. Well, sometimes. 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 sometimes 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 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, “Anyway, 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 difference.”
“You don’t seem to know very much about the Enchanted 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 attention than one, but sooner or later everyone in the Enchanted 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 dark. 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 experiment in the morning if we still felt like it.
Spending the night in the Enchanted Forest sounds awfully 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 Wizards. We got up and brushed the moss off our clothes, and 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 burn 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 hate to mention this,” I said as I helped Shiara work 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 supposed 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 brambles. 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 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 hungry 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 of thing. I didn’t know how I knew, but I was sure someone was creating the flood.
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 burn 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 something 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 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 second 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 them, 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 thoughtfully. 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.
“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.”
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 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, 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 exasperated. “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 wizard’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 burns, 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.
“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.
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 on 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 thinking 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. Fortunately, 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 demanded.
“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 large, airy room, full of cats. Practically every flat surface had a cat lying on it, except the top of the stove in the corner. 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 burns 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 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 pouring 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 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. “Wherever 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 holding 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. Immediately, all the cats jumped down onto the floor and formed a half circle around the stove, with Morwen and Shiara and 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 gingerbread. 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 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 backward. 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 gingerbread that although my right hand felt better it didn’t look any better. I didn’t have time to worry about it, though; Morwen was already standing by my chair with some oily looking salve and bandages. She worked on my hand while 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.”
“I knew it!” Shiara said angrily. “That elf was trying to get Daystar hurt!”
“Not necessarily,” Morwen said. “He may simply have been trying to make sure the wizard found you again. If you’d taken the pieces of the staff with you, he would have had no trouble catching up with you once he got himself back together, and of course the first thing he’d do would be to look for his staff.”
“If that elf wanted the wizard after us, why’d he get rid of the wizard in the first place?” Shiara objected.
“I doubt that he did,” Morwen said calmly. “It’s really more the sort of thing the sword would do. I wouldn’t depend on it in the future, though, particularly since you haven’t really learned how to use it yet.”
I wanted to ask more questions about the sword, but I was pretty sure Morwen wouldn’t answer them if I did. “What if the wizard couldn’t find his staff when he came back?” I asked instead.
“Wizards always know where their staffs are. And it’s almost impossible to keep wizards away from their staffs for any length of time. One can slow them down a bit by putting the staffs somewhere hard to get at, but they usually manage in the end.”
“That’s why Mother hid Antorell’s staff!” I said.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” Morwen murmured. “Now, I strongly suggest that you rest for a while, Daystar, and while you are doing so I will talk with Shiara in the library.” She stood up and nodded to me.
Shiara frowned and opened her mouth, then looked at me. “All right,” she said. She looked as if she wanted to say something else, then changed her mind at the last minute.
Morwen went to the door, followed by Shiara and most of the cats. I saw the room of books again before the door closed behind all of them. I went over to a bench that used to have three cats on it before they went into the library with Morwen, lay down on it, trying to be very careful of my bandaged right hand, and fell asleep almost immediately.
When I woke up, it was late afternoon. I could tell by the way the sunlight slanted in through the windows. There wasn’t anyone else in the room, except for the black-and-white cat that had led us to Morwen’s house. It was sitting in the middle of the table, washing its tail.
“Hello,” I said. “And thank you very much for bringing Shiara and me here.”
The cat looked up briefly, decided I was uninteresting, and went back to cleaning its tail. I shifted a little; the bench was hard. I wasn’t quite ready to sit up and start looking for people yet, though I felt much better. Then the back door opened—this time it was the door to the yard—and Morwen came in.
“You’re awake; good. Shiara has been waiting for you.” I sat up just as Morwen saw the cat on the table. She frowned at it. “Child of Scom,” she said sternly, “you are not allowed on the table.”
The cat looked at Morwen. Morwen looked at the cat. After a minute, the cat jumped down to the floor, where it did its best to pretend that the floor was exactly where it had wanted to be all along. Morwen shook her head.
“You’ll have to excuse the Grand Inquisitor; he knows he did me a favor when he brought you here, and he’s inclined to take advantage of it. I would have sent Cass, but I was afraid you wouldn’t pay attention to her.”
“Cass?”
“Cassandra.” Morwen nodded at a small grey cat that I hadn’t noticed come in with her. “She has much better manners than Quiz, but she tends to be overlooked. Nobody overlooks Quiz.”
I looked at the cats. They both ignored me. I looked back at Morwen. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for— for fixing my arm.” I wasn’t really sure what else to call whatever she’d done.
“Don’t thank me until you take the bandages off tomorrow,” Morwen said. “Time enough for thanks if it’s healed properly. Not that I have any doubts, mind, but it’s better to be sure.”
“All right, I’ll wait, then,” I said. “Did you say Shiara was waiting for me?”
Morwen went over to the stove. “Yes, I did. She’s out by the garden,” she said over her shoulder. She reached up and lifted a large kettle down from a hook on the wall.
“Thank you,” I said. I got up and opened the back door.
There was a room on the other side, with a bed and a large bookshelf and, of course, a cat. I shut the door and tried again. This time it was the library. Morwen had more books than anyone I’d ever heard of. I shut the door and looked back at Morwen.
“How do I get out to the garden?” I asked.
“Through the door,” Morwen said without turning. “Just be firm; sometimes it’s a little contrary with strangers, but it won’t last long.”
I turned back, trying to decide how to be firm with a door. I opened it again; it was still the library. I closed it, wondering how long it would take me to get to the garden. I didn’t really want to spend the rest of the afternoon opening and shutting Morwen’s door, but I couldn’t think of any other way of doing it. I sighed and opened the door again.
This time it worked; the door opened onto three steps going down into the yard. I went through it quickly, before it could change its mind. Shiara was sitting on a stone bench by the comer of the house. She looked a lot happier than she had earlier, but all she would say was that she’d been talking to Morwen.
“Morwen’s nice,” Shiara said. “She’s been showing me some things. And she’s going to give me a kitten.”
“That’s nice,” I said. Actually, I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to have a pet with us while we wandered around the Enchanted Forest. On the other hand, if it was one of Morwen’s cats, it would probably be able to take care of itself.
Shiara and I sat and talked for the rest of the afternoon. I discovered that somehow she and Morwen had decided that we would be spending the night here. Shiara was very pleased about it; evidently Morwen had promised to show her some interesting magic. I wasn’t sure we should stay, even though I liked Morwen. It felt a little strange to be staying with someone neither of us had ever met before. I had to admit, though, that it sounded a lot better than trying to sleep out in the open. We were still arguing about it when one of the cats came to bring us in to dinner.
DINNER WAS SOME sort of stew; it didn’t look like much, but it smelled and tasted awfully good. Morwen had made a large pot of the stuff. Half of it she put in a big pan and set on the floor for the cats; Shiara and I ate most of the rest of it. By the time we’d finished eating, we had somehow decided to spend the night with Morwen and the cats.
I was a little worried, at first, about what to do with the Sword of the Sleeping King. I didn’t want to leave it leaning up against Morwen’s wall all night. Finally, I decided to keep it with me. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Morwen, but Mother had given the sword to me and it was my responsibility. Once that was settled, I started wondering where Shiara and I were going to sleep.
I shouldn’t have worried. Morwen had several extra bedrooms behind her magic door, and she simply put each of us in one of them. By that time I was starting to wonder how many rooms she had in her house and where she kept them all when they weren’t needed. That isn’t the sort of question you ask people in the Enchanted Forest, though, so I didn’t.
Besides, I was tired again. As soon as Morwen showed me to my room, I stuck the sword under the bed and went to sleep. I couldn’t think of anything else to do with it, but I was pretty sure the sword would be safe. I was right, too When I woke up in the morning, there was a cat asleep on top of it.
After breakfast, Morwen took the bandages off my hand. The burns were gone and it felt fine, but she insisted on examining it carefully before she finally decided it was all right. When she was finished with my hand, she helped me get my swordbelt on. The sheath was dry, so I put the sword back in it. While I was doing that, Morwen produced a couple of bundles and a small black kitten with one white paw. She gave Shiara the kitten and one bundle and turned to me.
“This is for you,” she said, handing me the other bundle. “It should make your travels a little easier. Now, come outside.”
Morwen opened the front door and went out onto the porch. I let Shiara leave next and started to follow her, but one of the cats darted in front of me and I nearly tripped. I had to grab for the doorframe to keep my balance.
“Watch out!” Shiara said, then, “Daystar! What’s the matter?”
I almost didn’t hear her. I was staring down at my sword. My hand had brushed it when I’d tripped, and I’d felt the tingling again. Only this time there was even more of it. I reached over and took the hilt in my right hand. The rumbling tingle hadn’t changed, but the buzzing tingle and the purring tingle were considerably stronger than they had been, and they’d been joined by a brisk vibration I hadn’t felt before. I concentrated on the new feeling, trying to figure out where it had come from, and found myself looking at Morwen.
I looked back at the sword. I hadn’t let go, and my arm was still tingling. I tried to pick out one of the other vibrations. Suddenly I was feeling mostly the purring tingle and looking out into the woods. I blinked and tried again. This time I got the buzz, and I was staring at Shiara. Suddenly I understood.
“It’s magic!” I said.
“Of course it’s magic,” Shiara said. “It’s supposed to be a magic sword. So what?”
“No, I mean that’s what it does,” I said. “The Sword of the Sleeping King finds magic!”
“Among other things,” Morwen said in a satisfied voice.
“Finds magic?” Shiara said skeptically.
“That’s what the tingling is,” I said. I was completely sure of myself, though I didn’t know why. “Different tingles mean different kinds of magic, and the tingles get stronger when the sword gets closer to the magic.” I looked at Shiara. “No wonder it gave me such a jolt when we both touched it at the same time.”
Shiara had been reaching for the hilt, but she pulled her hand back hastily. “If the sword finds magic, how come I couldn’t feel anything until you touched it? And if the tingles are the way it finds things, why can’t you feel them all the time?”
“I don’t know,” I said. The tingling was fading again, the same way it had when I’d held on to the sword before, so I let go of the hilt.
Morwen was considering me through her glasses; I couldn’t tell what she was thinking from her expression. Finally she nodded very slightly. “I see. There is considerably more to you than I had thought, Daystar,” she said in a thoughtful tone.
I was still trying to figure out what that statement meant when Morwen turned away. “However, it is time for you to be going,” she went on briskly. “I suggest that you head north. You see those two trees? Walk straight between them and keep going until you get to a stream; then follow the stream. You’ll get to something eventually, and you should be able to figure out what to do from there.”
My eyes turned in the direction Morwen was pointing. It was the same way I’d been looking when I’d been concentrating on the purring tingle from the sword. I looked back at Morwen.
“Exactly,” Morwen said.
“What?” said Shiara.
“Let’s go,” I said. I was feeling a little unsettled by the whole thing, and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Shiara scowled at me, but she didn’t insist on an explanation right then.
We said good-bye and thank you to Morwen and started walking toward the trees. Shiara carried the kitten for a while, but pretty soon the kitten decided it wanted to walk. We slowed down a lot after that, until the kitten got tired enough to let Shiara pick it up again without scratching her.
Shiara and I spent most of the walk talking. I hadn’t realized how little she knew about the Enchanted Forest, and I wound up telling her a lot of things. Like explaining about being polite to people, and why you shouldn’t promise things without knowing what they are first.
Morwen hadn’t told us how far away the stream was, and eventually I started wondering when we were going to get to it. I was also curious about where we were going. I was thinking about that when I noticed that the trees we were walking past were larger than the ones I’d seen the previous day. At least, I thought they were larger. I studied them as we walked, trying to decide whether it was my imagination or whether they really were larger. I was just getting ready to mention it to Shiara, when I heard a cough. I stopped and looked around.
“Ahem,” said a voice.
This time I located the speaker. It was the little gold lizard, Suz. He was sitting on a branch at just about eye level, watching me.
“Oh, hello, Suz,” I said. Shiara was looking around; I nodded toward the lizard and said, “Shiara, this is Suz. You remember, I told you about him. Suz, this is my friend, Shiara.”
The lizard ignored the introduction and continued staring at me. “Why,” he demanded in an aggrieved tone, “didn’t you tell me Cimorene was your mother?”
“You didn’t ask,” I said.
Suz looked at me reproachfully. “It would have saved me a great deal of trouble if you’d mentioned it,” he said severely.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know it mattered.”
“You didn’t?” Suz ran down the branch and peered at me. “No, you really didn’t! How amazing. I can’t understand how it happened.”
“What are you talking about?” Shiara said.
The lizard appeared to see her for the first time. He leaned outward in Shiara’s direction and I thought he was going to fall off, until I saw that his tail was wrapped tightly around a sturdy twig on the far side of the branch. “You’ve brought someone with you? Dear me, this will never do. Who is this?”
“I’ve already introduced you once,” I reminded him. “You weren’t listening.”
“You did? Yes, of course, you did. How perfectly dreadful.” Suz ran around the branch very fast, and for a minute I was afraid he was going to try and stand on his tail. I was sure he’d fall off if he did; the branch wasn’t very wide.
“What’s so dreadful?” Shiara demanded. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“No, of course there isn’t. Oh, dear, Kazul will be terribly unhappy about this.”
“Who is Kazul?” I asked.
Suz looked at me in astonishment. “You don’t know? No, you don’t. I haven’t told you yet. Kazul is who you’re going to see.” He cocked his head to one side as if that explained everything.
“Why should I want to see Kazul?” I said. “And why should he care about me, or Shiara, or anything?”
“She,” Suz said. “And of course you want to see her. You have the Sword of the Sleeping King, don’t you? I’m afraid she’ll be dreadfully upset if you bring someone with you, though.”
“Well, I’m not going to leave Shiara alone in the middle of the Enchanted Forest,” I said firmly.
“No, no, you couldn’t possibly do that,” the lizard agreed. “That wouldn’t be right at all. Dear me, whatever are we going to do?”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Shiara said indignantly. “I’m a fire-witch; I can take care of myself.”
“You are?” Suz turned his head and looked at Shiara so intently that his eyes crossed. “You really are! How convenient! Everything’s quite all right, then; Kazul won’t mind a fire-witch at all.”
“Who,” I said very slowly and carefully, “is Kazul?”
The lizard stared thoughtfully at me for a long time. “I don’t think I ought to tell you any more,” he said finally. “You’re quite safe, you really are, but it wouldn’t do at all for Kazul to lose her temper with me. Oh, dear, no.”
“Quite safe? In the middle of the Enchanted Forest, with wizards after us?” Shiara said sarcastically. “You’re crazy.”
“I am? No, I’m not at all! How very rude.” He turned his back, looking extremely offended. Shiara stared at him. As I said, an offended lizard is an interesting sight.
I sighed. “Shiara.”
Shiara looked at me. I just stood there. After a minute, she looked down. “Well, it is dangerous to be out here, even if you do have that stupid sword,” she said defensively. “What’s wrong with saying so?”
“It wasn’t very polite,” I said. “And you promised you’d try.”
Shiara glanced up at me, then sighed. “Oh, all right. I’m sorry, Suz.”
The lizard twisted his head around and looked at Shiara for a minute. “You are?” He ran around the branch again and wound up peering at her upside down from underneath the limb. “No, you’re not at all. How disappointing. I accept.” He ran back up on top of the branch.
“Accept?” Shiara said.
“Your apology,” the lizard said with dignity. A dignified lizard looks even odder than an offended one.
“Oh.” Shiara looked at Suz doubtfully.
“If you won’t tell us who Kazul is, will you at least tell us how to find her?” I said hastily. I didn’t want Shiara to say anything that would offend Suz again, and she looked like she was going to. Besides, I was curious.
“You won’t have any trouble,” the lizard assured me. “Just head for the castle. Kazul will—” He broke off in mid-sentence, staring at the kitten Shiara was holding. “What is that?” he asked disapprovingly.
“A kitten, of course,” Shiara said.
“You’re sure it’s under control?” Suz seemed a little nervous. I looked at the kitten. It was watching Suz with a great deal of interest.
“What do you mean, under control?” Shiara said. “She’s a perfectly well-behaved kitten. Morwen wouldn’t have given her to me if she wasn’t.”
“Cats are not— Did you say Morwen?” Suz peered at Shiara.
“Yes, I said Morwen. Can’t you finish a sentence?”
Suz ignored her. “You’ve been to see Morwen? I didn’t know that. Oh, dear me, I must be dreadfully behind. Why, all sorts of things could be happening that I don’t know about! How perfectly dreadful. I must really get back to work at once. Oh, yes, indeed I must.”
The lizard ran down the branch and disappeared behind the tree trunk. “Wait a minute!” I said. I ducked around the back of the tree, but Suz was nowhere in sight. I shook my head and went back to where Shiara was standing.
“He’s gone again,” I said. “And he still didn’t tell me what castle he’s talking about.”
“So what? Nobody else has been telling us anything either.” Shiara glared at the branch where Suz had been sitting. “I don’t think he’s very polite. He didn’t even say good-bye.”
“He keeps going off like that,” I said. “I think that’s just how he is.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry he left,” Shiara said. “Come on, let’s find that stream Morwen was talking about. I’m getting thirsty.”
We started walking again. Shiara put the kitten down, and we took turns keeping an eye on it as we walked. It had a marvelous time, jumping on leaves and attacking bushes while Shiara and I talked about what Shiara was going to name it. Finally she decided on Nightwitch. I didn’t think that was a very good name, but Shiara liked it, so I didn’t say anything.
By the time we found the stream, Shiara and I were tired and hungry as well as thirsty, so we decided to stop. We each took a drink; then we sat down and opened the bundle Morwen had given me. Just as I had expected, there was a packet of food right on top—meat pies and apples and gingerbread. Shiara and I each ate some, and we gave one of the meat pies to Nightwitch. There was some left over, so we wrapped it up and put it back in my bundle before we started off down the stream.
We tried to stay close to the bank most of the time. It’s easy to get lost in the Enchanted Forest, especially if you don’t really know where you’re going. If we got out of sight of the stream, we might never find it again.
In a couple of places the trees grew in thick clumps, right up to the water’s edge, and we had to choose between wading and going around. I didn’t like the dark look of the forest near the tree clumps, and the water was only ankle deep, so we waded. Nightwitch did not approve of it at all.
The forest got darker as we went along. I was sure, now, that the trees were bigger, and they were certainly closer together even when they weren’t growing in tight clumps. We spent more and more time in the stream, but the water wasn’t very cold, and the pebbles on the bottom were smooth, so it wasn’t particularly unpleasant. Even so, I was glad when the woods started to open up again. Then I saw the clearing a little ahead of us. A minute later, I saw the person sitting in it.
She was a Princess. She had to be. Her hair was long and golden and not tangled at all, and her eyes were very blue, and her skin was very white, and she was very, very beautiful. One dainty foot was peeping out from under her blue silk gown. Her hands were folded in her lap, and she was looking at them with a sad expression.
Shiara poked me. I realized that I was standing in a stream with my shoes in one hand and Morwen’s bundle in the other and my mouth hanging open. I swallowed and waded over to the bank. I wanted to put my shoes back on before we got any closer. I had seen at least two Princesses before, that I knew of, but both of them were enchanted and didn’t look at all like their usual selves when I met them. When I finished with my shoes, the Princess was looking in our direction.
I stood up hastily and hurried toward her. Shiara followed. When I was within speaking distance, I stopped and bowed. The Princess smiled sadly.
“I bid you such poor welcome as I may,” she said in a musical voice. “Alas! That I can offer you no refreshment. For I am in great distress.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I fear not,” said the Princess. “For you are yet a youth. Alas, and woe is me! For I am in great distress.”
“All right; so tell us about it,” Shiara said. She sat down on the ground and looked at the Princess expectantly. I frowned at her; I didn’t think that was the proper way to address a Princess, though I wasn’t positive. Mother had taught me a lot more about dragons than she had about Princesses.
“You are kind to inquire of my sad tale,” the Princess said. “It is not long to tell. My father was a King, much beloved of his people, and I his only daughter. Being lonely after my mother’s death, my father remarried to a woman comely but proud, and under her influence have I suffered these seven years. And now the King my father is dead, and my stepmother hath cast me out, to wander alone and friendless through the world. Alas! For I am—”
“In great distress; you said that before,” Shiara said. “Why didn’t you throw her out when your father died? It would have saved you a lot of trouble.”
The Princess’s blue eyes filled with tears and she bowed her head. “ ‘Twas not within my power to work harm against her, alas. And now I seek some Prince or hero who will take pity on my destitute state and return me to my proper place. Woe is me! That I should be without help in such distress.”
“Sounds like a lousy excuse to me,” Shiara muttered under her breath. Fortunately, the Princess didn’t hear.
“I’m afraid we can’t help you get your kingdom back,” I said. “I’m very sorry. But if there’s any other service I can do for you, I’d be happy to try.”
“Daystar!” Shiara’s voice was horrified, and suddenly I realized what I’d said. I swallowed. At least I’d only promised to try.
“There is one thing,” the Princess said. She raised her head, and her eyes were very bright. I went cold. The Princess smiled sweetly.
“Give me your sword,” she said.
I STARED AT the Princess. Then I shut my mouth and swallowed again, hard. Mother wasn’t going to like this at all. I was just about to draw the sword and give it to her, when Shiara said, “Wait a minute, Daystar.”
I stopped and looked at her. She looked at the Princess. “Daystar hasn’t got a sword.”
“What?” the Princess and I said at the same time. The Princess frowned. “I am not blind, to be so easily deceived. See, there it is.” She pointed to my scabbard.
“That,” said Shiara triumphantly, “is the Sword of the Sleeping King. So it belongs to him, not to Daystar, and Daystar can’t give it away.”
The Princess looked very puzzled. I thought for a minute. Shiara was right, but she was wrong, too. I mean, it was obvious what the Princess had meant, even if she hadn’t said it right. I sighed and reached for the hilt.
Shiara turned on me. “Daystar, what are you doing?”
“Giving her the sword,” I said, tugging at it. The sword wouldn’t come out of the sheath. “You know as well as I do what she meant.”
“Well, if all those wizards and sorceresses can be picky about the way people say things, why can’t you?” Shiara was so mad I expected her hair to start burning any minute. “You can’t even get it out of the sheath! You only said you’d try to do what she wanted; well, you’ve tried. Isn’t that enough yet?”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, Shiara, but it’s my sword, and I’m not a wizard. I just have to do it.”
“Daystar, you... you...” Shiara gave up and just glared.
I tugged at the sword again; Shiara turned her back. The Princess was still looking puzzled. I shook my head and unbuckled the whole swordbelt. I looked at it for a minute, then held it out toward the Princess. “Here,” I said. “Take it.” My voice seemed very loud, and I realized that the woods had gotten very quiet. The Princess smiled and took hold of the scabbard. I let go of the sword.
There was a rumbling noise, and the Princess said, “Oh!” very loudly and dropped the swordbelt. The point of the scabbard hit the ground, and there was another rumble, and an enormous geyser of water shot up into the air.
I saw the Princess cringe and Shiara fall backward. Then I couldn’t see anything but white spray. A voice said, “All hail the Holder of the Sword!” The words echoed hollowly around me as the fountain vanished.
Shiara and the Princess were both staring at me, wide-eyed. All of us were dripping. The sword was standing upright in front of me, in the middle of a pool of water about four feet across. It was about halfway out of the sheath, and the blade shimmered in the sun. The Princess burst into tears.
“I knew not that this weapon was of such potency,” she said between sobs. “Alas! For I cannot hold the sword, and who now will be my help? Alas, and woe is me!”
“You mean you don’t want the sword anymore?” Shiara demanded.
The Princess nodded. She was weeping too hard to say much.
“And Daystar can have it back now?”
The Princess nodded again. She was still weeping. I sighed and dug out my handkerchief. It was wet. I squeezed it out and offered it to the Princess anyway. She took it without thanking me and cried some more.
“What am I to do?” she kept saying. “Who now will be my help? Alas! For I am in great distress!”
“Oh, help yourself,” Shiara said crossly. “Daystar, are you going to take that stupid sword?”
I hesitated; then I reached out and took hold of the hilt. The blade flashed once, and a brief shock ran through me as the hilt came to rest. I ignored the feeling and took hold of the scabbard. It came free almost at once. The water closed silently behind it. I took a closer look at the bottom part of the sheath; I wasn’t even surprised when I saw that it wasn’t wet.
I looked up. The Princess had just about stopped crying. I looked at the sword. Then I looked back at the Princess. “Are you sure you don’t want this?” I said finally.
“Daystar!” Shiara sounded like she wasn’t sure whether to be mad or horrified.
The Princess didn’t seem to hear her at all. “I cannot take it!” she cried. “Oh, indeed, I cannot! Alas! That I am so helpless in my time of need!”
“Well, if you didn’t want the sword, why did you ask for it in the first place?” Shiara said angrily.
“I fear I have deceived you,” the Princess said tragically. “Yet I myself have been misled. Alas! I beg of you, forgive me! For indeed, I am, I am in great distress.”
“Distress? Ha!” said Shiara. “You better tell us the truth, right now, or you’ll find out what distress is.”
“Shiara—” I began.
Shiara turned. “You shut up. You obviously don’t know anything about handling Princesses, so let me do it. Now,” she said to the Princess, “explain. And it better be good.”
“I am a King’s daughter,” the Princess said. “My father would have me wed the Prince of a neighboring kingdom, to bring us wealth. Yet I could not, for I do not love him, but another. My father listened not, for all my pleading, so my love and I fled into the forest. We wandered far, and great was our suffering, yet were we happy, for we had each other. But I, being unused to travel, became tired, and my love at last set me here and bid me wait for him. And here have I stayed these two long days, and I fear me some evil may have befallen him. Alas! That we are parted!”
“What,” said Shiara, “does all this have to do with Daystar’s sword?”
The Princess sighed again. “I was seated here, as you see me, bewailing my bitter fate, when lo! A man appeared, most wise and powerful of aspect. He told me my love was imprisoned by a mighty sorceress, and at that news I wept bitterly. Then he bade me desist from my grief, for the means of delivering my love was at hand, to wit, a sword most magical. And he himself made promise of aid, if I would but attain the sword. And this have I attempted, and I have failed. Alas, and woe is me!”
“I don’t think I understand,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell us this to begin with?”
The Princess began to weep again. “My unknown friend instructed me in what I was to say; and told me that all would be well once I had the sword in my own hands. And in this he deceived me, for the touch of the sword burns so that I cannot hold it. And the cause is that I deceived you, and tricked you into offering me the sword, and the sword knew, and it will not abide in my hand, and now am I utterly without hope.”
“What did this person look like?” Shiara asked unsympathetically. “The one you were going to give the sword to.”
The Princess seemed a lot more interested in explaining how wise and powerful and helpful the man had been than she was in giving a simple description, but eventually we managed to get some idea what he looked like. Tall, dark-haired, blue eyes, and carrying a staff....
“It sounds a lot like Antorell,” I said finally.
“Antorell?” Shiara said.
“That wizard I told you about, that Mother melted. He must be back; she said he might try to make trouble for me in a day or two.”
“Oh, great. All we need is another wizard looking for us.”
The Princess didn’t seem to be following the conversation at all. “Alas!” she said finally. “There is nothing left for me but grief; I have no means now to save my love, so I shall die with him. I shall fling myself in yonder stream and make an end.”
“You are even dumber than Daystar,” Shiara informed her. “That stream isn’t deep enough to drown in; you’ll only get wet. Besides, if that stupid wizard lied about the sword, how do you know he didn’t lie about your love? Who is this person you ran off with, anyway?”
“He is a knight,” the Princess said, her eyes lighting up. “Poor in goods, yet rich in spirit, of most pleasing aspect. His eyes are a hawk’s, his arms are mighty, and his sword is bright and—”
“He sounds like he can take care of himself,” Shiara said. “I don’t think you have to worry about him.”
Shiara’s words had a marvelous effect on the Princess. “Truly, you believe this?” she said, and her face lit up even more. “Then here will I abide his coming, for surely he will return to me. Ah, joy! That we shall soon be once more together!”
Shiara looked disgusted. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy. Come on, Daystar, let’s go.” She stood up.
“I don’t think we should leave her here by herself,” I said.
“Daystar, you’re impossible!” Shiara was still mad. “She tried to trick you! Besides, she’s been here two days already, and nothing’s happened to her yet.”
“Alas! I did indeed attempt to deceive you,” the Princess said. “And for that I beg forgiveness. Yet consider my unhappy plight, and be not harsh with me.”
“Oh, shut up,” Shiara told her.
“What if Antorell comes back?” I said. “Somebody ought to take care of her. Besides, I made a promise.”
“Well, I didn’t!” Shiara said. “And I’m not going to sit here doing nothing just because of a stupid Princess! I’m leaving.”
“You can’t do that!” I said. I was really upset. Shiara didn’t know very much about the Enchanted Forest, and she was going to go tramping off into the middle of it with no one but Morwen’s kitten. I couldn’t let her do that, but I couldn’t leave the Princess sitting there alone, either.
“Want to bet?” Shiara said. She picked up the bundle Morwen had given her. “Come on, Nightwitch. Let’s go.”
“Nightwitch? What an unusual name for a cat,” said a new voice.
Shiara stopped and both of us turned. An old man was standing at the edge of the clearing, in front of a large, scruffy clump of bushes. His beard and what was left of his hair were quite white, and he was stooped over and leaning on a staff. Even without the way my skin prickled, I knew he was a wizard.
The Princess was the first to recover from the surprise of seeing him there. “Ah, sir, have pity on my sad state!” she said. “Have pity, and if you have seen a knight, bright-armored, hawk-eyed, most fair and pleasing in speech and semblance, then tell me speedily where he may be found. For he is my love, and we are parted, and thus am I in great distress! Alas!”
“That’s quite all right, my dear,” the wizard said in a kindly tone. “You’ve nothing to worry about. In fact, he should be here before very much longer; that’s why I hurried. Just sit there and wait quietly, like a good girl.”
“Oh, joy! Oh, bliss!” said the Princess rapturously. “To be with my love again!” She started happily explaining how strong and handsome and generally wonderful her missing knight was. Since she didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, the rest of us ignored her.
Shiara, Nightwitch, and I were edging backward. I had my right hand on the hilt of my sword, and my whole side was tingling with the feel of the wizard’s magic. The wizard noticed us and smiled.
“Take your hand from your sword,” he said, looking at me. “I am not here to engage in a vulgar physical contest with you.”
“Are you from the Society of Wizards?” Shiara demanded. Her voice sounded a little shaky, but I don’t think anyone who didn’t know her would have noticed.
“No,” the wizard said. “Why? Are you looking for one of them?”
“Then why are you here?” I said.
“Why, to assist you,” the wizard said.
“Assist us?” Shiara said. “But you’re a wizard!”
“I am not at all concerned with your baseless prejudices,” the wizard told her. “I have come to offer to help your companion, and I will thank you to cease interfering.”
I stared at him. “I don’t want to be impolite,” I said before Shiara could say anything else, “but why do you want to help me?”
“Why, because you deserve it, of course,” the wizard said. “You made a foolish promise to this other young lady,” he went on, nodding toward the Princess, who was still talking to the air. “You could have gotten out of it several times, but you refused to behave dishonorably. I think that is deserving of a reward.”
“Thank you very much,” I said. I didn’t really know what else to say. After all, there are people in the Enchanted Forest who go around rewarding heroes and Princes for noble deeds; why else would all those people come here?
“Well, what would you like?” the wizard said after a moment.
“Like?”
“As a reward.” He sounded a little impatient.
I thought about it for a moment. “I appreciate the offer,” I said finally. “But I really don’t need anything. Thank you very much all the same.”
“What? Isn’t there anything you want?” he asked sharply. He didn’t look nearly as friendly as he had at first.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said.
For a moment the wizard looked very disconcerted. Then he seemed to relax a little. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear enough,” he said. “You need not ask for something material; information will do just as well. The word for sorcery in the tongue of the giants, or the location of the Well of Silver Storms where the unicorns drink. There must be something you want to know, even if there is nothing you want to have.”
The only thing I wanted to know was what I was supposed to do in the Enchanted Forest. Somehow, I didn’t think Mother had told him. “No,” I said. “I don’t think there is anything.”
The wizard looked at me, and his eyes narrowed. “Come, come! You need to know the name of your father, do you not?”
“No,” I said, puzzled. I’d never been particularly interested in knowing my father’s name; I mean, he wasn’t around, so what difference did it make? Mother would have told me if she’d thought I ought to know. And I certainly couldn’t think of any reason why I needed to know. “Why should I?”
“You’re looking for him, aren’t you?” the wizard snapped.
“No, not really.” That might be one of the things Mother wanted me to do, but it certainly couldn’t be all of it. Furthermore, I couldn’t see how knowing his name would help much, even if I were looking for him. In the Enchanted Forest, looking for someone usually isn’t the best way of finding him. You’re much more likely to run into people by accident.
“You aren’t? Then you must know! She told you! Who is it?”
“I thought you were going to tell Daystar that,” Shiara said. “Don’t you know?”
“Silence, fool! I have waited too long for this.” The wizard turned back to me. “You will tell me now, or regret it deeply: Who is your father?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “And if I did, I don’t see why I should tell you.”
“There are other ways of learning what I wish to know,” the wizard said. He straightened abruptly. The Princess squeaked and fell silent. Nightwitch hissed. Shiara started edging backward again. And the wizard changed.
He got a little taller and a lot younger; his beard melted away and his hair darkened and filled in. His eyes changed from brown to blue, but they still glared. “Antorell!” I said, and drew my sword.
The steel rang as it came out of the sheath, and the blade shimmered and flashed in front of me. It made the whole clearing seem brighter. Antorell’s lips curled into a sneer.
“Fool! What use is a sword against a wizard?”
He raised his staff, and a globe of green light appeared at the lower end of it. A thread of green, dark and bright as the shine of a snake, reached out toward me from the staff. I raised the sword.
The green light touched the Sword of the Sleeping King. The sword hummed a little and the ray of light vanished, and that was all. Antorell frowned, and another, larger ray of green reached out. This time, the humming was a little louder, and the light around the end of Antorell’s staff vanished along with the ray touching the sword. The jangling feeling lessened a little. I was considerably relieved; Antorell looked shocked.
“You cannot! Not possibly! That sword can’t...” His eyes moved to my face, then back to the sword, and he took a deep breath. “So! She must have known all along. But now I will have that weapon. I must have that weapon!”
“No,” I said. “Mother wouldn’t like it.”
Antorell’s eyes narrowed. “Cimorene has had her way long enough. If you will not give me that sword, I will take it.” He started to raise the staff again.
The bushes behind Antorell rustled noisily, and the wizard shifted. “You, there!” he called over his shoulder. “Show yourself at once!”
“Ach— Ach—” said someone behind him, and the bushes rustled again. Antorell frowned and turned around, raising his staff. “I will teach you to interfere—”
The angry look on Antorell’s face changed abruptly to one of mingled surprise and fear. He stepped backward very quickly and waved his staff through the air in front of him.
“Achooo!” said the voice, and a large ball of fire demolished the bush and enveloped Antorell. The wizard screamed and disappeared, and we could see the person who had been behind the bush.
It was a dragon.
IT WAS ABOUT twelve feet tall, which is not very large as dragons go. But it was definitely a dragon. It sneezed again, which took care of the remains of the bush, and slid forward over the ashes into the middle of the clearing. The Princess fainted.
I started trying to put my sword away. Walking through the Enchanted Forest with a drawn sword is bad, but talking to a dragon with a sword in your hand is much worse. Fortunately, the dragon didn’t seem to have noticed it yet. As soon as the sword was sheathed, I looked up again, and my stomach went hollow.
The dragon was eyeing Shiara, and I didn’t like the gleam in its eyes. I didn’t like the militant way Shiara was glaring back, either. There wasn’t very much I could do, though; you just don’t interrupt a dragon when it’s busy with something else. They don’t like being distracted.
The dragon slid closer and bent its head until it was staring at Shiara from about a foot in front of her face. Shiara jumped. The dragon blinked.
“Are you a Princess?” it asked hopefully.
“No. I’m a fire-witch,” Shiara said. “And if you bite me, I’ll burn your nose off.”
“Oh. I thought you were a Princess.” The dragon lost interest in Shiara. It looked around the clearing again and saw me. Its head moved over in my direction.
I bowed. “Sir or madam,” I said, trying to recall all the proper ways of addressing a dragon, “I offer you greetings in the name of myself and my companions, and I wish you good fortune in all your endeavors.”
“I beg your pardon?” said the dragon. Its voice reminded me of one of those wooden wind instruments, the deep kind that you have to stand on a chair to play. It eyed me doubtfully. “Are you a Princess?”
“I...” I stopped and stared. Dragons just don’t beg people’s pardon. Then I realized that this must be a very young dragon, and I relaxed a little. Dragons don’t usually insist on formality until they get old enough to decide which sex they’re going to be. “I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid I’m not a Princess. My name is Daystar; I’m very pleased to meet you.”
The dragon sat back. “I had no idea Princesses were so hard to find.” It blinked and seemed to look at me for the first time. “I’m sorry I burned your bush, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Oh, please don’t worry about it,” I said. “It really doesn’t matter in the least.”
“It was the wizard,” the dragon said confidentially. “I’m allergic to them. All dragons are.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
The dragon looked at me, “You’re very polite, Daystar.” Its head swiveled back toward Shiara. “Say! You weren’t polite at all!”
Nightwitch poked her head out from behind Shiara’s ankle and hissed. The dragon started and then peered down at the kitten. “You aren’t polite, either,” it said.
I nudged Shiara. “Offer to do something for him,” I hissed.
“What? Why?”
“If you insult a dragon, you have to do him a favor,” I said. “Hurry up!” If she didn’t say something quickly, the dragon would probably eat both of us. Unfortunately, the dragon might eat Shiara anyway; the favor most dragons want is dinner. I couldn’t tell Shiara that, though, without offending the dragon. I started wondering whether I could talk the dragon out of eating us. I didn’t think so; dragons are stubborn.
The dragon’s eyes glittered. Shiara looked at it. “Can I do anything for you?” she said finally. She sounded a little sullen, but dragons aren’t very good at tone of voice. Besides, it’s the offer that counts.
“Find me a Princess,” the dragon said promptly.
I breathed a very quiet sigh of relief. I didn’t think there was a polite way to kill a dragon, and I hadn’t been able to think of any other way of stopping it from eating Shiara and me if it wanted to. It was nice to know I wouldn’t have to try.
“You want a Princess?” Shiara looked thoughtful. “Why?”
“Dragons are supposed to have Princesses,” the dragon explained. “I can’t be considered a proper dragon until I have one. But I’ve been looking for two days, and I haven’t seen even a smell of a Princess, and I’m tired of it. So you do it.”
“You aren’t going to eat her or anything, are you?” Shiara said.
“Eat her?” the dragon sounded horrified. “And waste a perfectly good Princess? Of course not! There aren’t enough of them to go around as it is! What kind of barbarian do you think I am?”
“Well, I’ve never met a dragon before,” Shiara said. “How was I supposed to know? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“All right,” said the dragon. “But you have to get me a Princess. It doesn’t have to be a large one.”
“Do you want any particular kind of Princess?” Shiara asked. “I want to be sure you’ll be satisfied.”
“Oh, young and beautiful, of course,” the dragon said. “Are there other kinds?”
“There are enchanted Princesses,” Shiara pointed out. “Especially around here.”
“That’s right. Say, maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to find one!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Shiara said. “But will you take an enchanted Princess?”
The dragon thought for a minute. “No, I don’t think so. Spells make things too complicated.”
“And does it matter how long it takes me to find her?” Shiara went on.
The dragon considered. “I don’t want to wait too long, but I really don’t want to be unreasonable, either. How about a week? You bring the Princess here by a week from today, otherwise you owe me another favor.” It licked its lips with a long red tongue.
“That sounds reasonable,” Shiara said. “But what if I’m early?”
Suddenly I realized what Shiara was planning to do. I started edging around the clearing, toward where the Princess was lying. I wasn’t quite fast enough.
“The earlier the better,” the dragon said.
“Then, there’s your Princess!” Shiara said, and pointed.
“My, you do work fast,” the dragon said. It turned and looked at the Princess. “She’s certainly beautiful enough, but are you sure she isn’t enchanted?”
“I’m quite sure,” Shiara said.
“Then why is she asleep in the middle of the day? I didn’t think Princesses were nocturnal creatures.”
“She just fainted when she saw you,” Shiara said reassuringly. “It’s nothing to worry about; it happens to Princesses all the time. Will she do?”
“Quite well.” The dragon nodded. “You’re very prompt. Thank you very much.”
Shiara nodded. I waited until the dragon turned away; then I frowned at Shiara.
“Why did you do that?” I whispered. “That was a terrible thing to do!”
“Would you rather I got eaten?” Shiara whispered back. “She won’t get eaten; the dragon said so. And I bet it won’t want her for long. Dragons are smarter than some people.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I looked back at the dragon. It was bending its head to inspect the Princess more closely, and I tried to decide what I ought to do. Just at that moment, the Princess opened her eyes. She gave a small scream, and the dragon frowned.
“You don’t have to be frightened,” it said. “Really. You’re my Princess now, and I’m going to take proper care of you, and you can clean my scales and cook for me. I believe that’s the standard arrangement.”
The Princess burst into tears. The dragon pulled back, eyeing her uncomfortably. “Did I say something wrong?”
The Princess just cried harder. “Alas! Ah, woe is me! So recently was I happy, awaiting the coming of my love to rescue me from this dismal forest! And now am I a prisoner of a monster, and when my love arrives he will be eaten by this awful beast, and I abandoned to my fate! Alas, that I should come to this!”
The dragon looked considerably taken aback. It turned to Shiara and me. “This is a Princess?”
“Yes, she is,” I said. Shiara nodded, too.
The Princess had heard the question also and she raised her head. “Indeed, I am a Princess, and the daughter of a King, and see to what misery I have been brought!” she said tragically. “Alas, the day I left my father’s house! Yet would I flee again, and endure with patience all the trials and woes which have come upon me, only to be with my love once more!”
The dragon backed up a pace. “Are you sure this is a Princess?” he asked.
“Alas! Now even my birth is doubted, and to whom shall I turn in my distress? Ah, pity my sad state! For I am alone and friendless, and parted from my love. Ah, woe! That ever I let him leave my side. For he is mighty among men, most brave and fearsome in battle, and of a fair and pleasing appearance in all things, and he would not leave me thus, did he but know my fate.” She went back to crying.
“If this is a Princess, I’m not sure I want one,” the dragon said. It looked at the Princess speculatively. “Maybe I could eat her, instead.”
“Ah, help!” said the Princess.
“I really don’t think you should eat her,” I said. “After all, you did say you wouldn’t.”
“That’s right, I did,” the dragon said. It looked at the Princess, who was crying again, and sighed. “Nobody told me Princesses were like this,” it said in an aggrieved tone. “And who is this love she keeps talking about?”
“We haven’t met him yet, I’m afraid,” I said. “She says he’s a knight that she ran away with because her father wanted her to marry someone else.” I was still trying to figure out what to do about the Princess and the dragon.
“A knight?” The dragon backed up a little farther. “I don’t think I’m ready for knights yet. They’re so unpredictable. I don’t suppose you could find me a Princess without a knight?”
“All really good Princesses have knights,” Shiara said firmly. “And you wouldn’t want a second-rate Princess, would you?”
“All of them?” the dragon asked plaintively.
“Well, not all of them,” I said. “Some of them have Princes instead.”
“Princes are much worse than knights,” Shiara said thoughtfully. “They tend to have magic rings and sorceresses for godmothers and things like that. With knights you only have to worry about their armor and weapons, and maybe once in a while an enchanted sword.”
“My love has no need of magic!” the Princess broke in indignantly. “For he is most strong and skilled, and never has he been beaten in combat with sword or spear. Woe! That he is no longer at my side!”
“I don’t think I like the sound of this,” the dragon said uneasily. “Maybe if I just—”
There was a loud crashing sound, and a rather tinny-sounding voice said, “What ho! A dragon?”
The Princess stopped crying very suddenly and sat up quite straight. “Hark! My love approaches! Now shall you see his prowess for yourselves!”
There were more crashing noises. The dragon backed up a little more, looking nervous. A moment later a knight in a somewhat dented suit of armor fell through the middle of the thickest clump of bushes, right in front of the dragon.
“On guard, monster!” the knight said as he picked himself up. “Prepare to die!” He pulled out a sword and waved it at the dragon. Well, actually, he waved it a couple of feet to one side; his helmet had slipped a little, and evidently he couldn’t see very well. The dragon looked at him, and then back at Shiara.
“This is a knight?” it said.
“My love is the bravest of knights!” the Princess cried.
“If this is a knight, maybe I can handle him after all,” the dragon said. “He doesn’t look so bad.”
“Ah, hideous reptile! No longer do I fear you, for my love will defend me! Yea, he will defend me even unto death!”
“Now, wait a minute, Isabelle,” the knight said. He pulled off his helmet, looked at it disgustedly, and threw it on the ground behind him. “I’m perfectly willing to kill dragons for you, but who said anything about dying?”
“You are my knight, and my brave love!” the Princess said dramatically. “Oh, save me from this awful monster, who would carry me off and eat me!” She sprang up and threw her arms around the knight.
“It’s going to be a bit difficult for me to save you if you hang about my neck like that,” the knight said apologetically. “It’s quite awkward. If you’ll just sit down, I can see about doing this properly.”
The Princess only hung on to him more tightly, which made his aim almost as bad as it had been when he was wearing his helmet crooked. The dragon was watching them closely, and its eyes were starting to glow. “You certainly aren’t very polite,” it said.
“My love is the soul of courtesy!” the Princess said from behind the knight. “For he is a knight most gentle and well spoken, much given to—”
“I say, Isabelle, must you go on like that?” the knight said. “It’s rather embarrassing. Do, please, sit down and let me fight the dragon. Then you won’t have to worry about being eaten, you know.”
The Princess gave a small scream. “Alas!” she said in a quavery voice. “Behold my sad state! For now must I watch a bloody battle, and perhaps see my love slain before my eyes, and become a captive of this monster.”
“This is ridiculous,” said Shiara, and before I could stop her she marched over to stand between the dragon and the knight. I followed her, hoping I could get her out of trouble if I had to.
“Ah, save me!” the Princess said as we got closer. I wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be saved from the dragon or from Shiara. Shiara glared at her.
“You shut up,” she told the Princess. “You’ve caused enough trouble already.”
“I say,” said the knight. “If we’re going to discuss politeness ...”
“We aren’t,” said Shiara. “We’re going to discuss battles. Battles between dragons and knights. Why do you want to fight this dragon?”
“Knights are sworn to do battle with the beasts which ravage the fields, carry off innocent maidens, and generally make a nuisance of themselves,” the knight said. He sounded as if he were reciting something, and he didn’t look very pleased about the idea, but the Princess nodded approvingly.
“Well, this dragon isn’t ravaging anything, and it doesn’t even want your stupid Princess,” Shiara said.
“I do, too!” the dragon broke in. “If I’m not going to carry her off, I could eat her after all. And if I fought a knight, no one could say I’m not a proper dragon, even if I don’t have a Princess.”
“I really don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I said. “Princesses aren’t all that common, after all.”
“Besides, you promised me you wouldn’t,” Shiara said.
“I did not!” the dragon said. “I only said I wouldn’t waste a perfectly good Princess, and I don’t think this one’s so great. Eating her wouldn’t be much of a waste.”
“I don’t think that would be very polite,” I said. “Especially when you’ve talked to her this long without bringing it up. You really ought to ease into these things gradually, you know.”
“Are you sure?” the dragon said.
I nodded.
“Oh, all right,” said the dragon. “I won’t eat her, then. But couldn’t I fight the knight anyway? Just for practice?”
“I say, that sounds like an excellent idea,” the knight said, brightening perceptibly. “A sort of exercise for both of us.”
“A tourney!” the Princess cried. “Oh, brave and clever, to think of such a thing!”
The knight looked pleased. So did the dragon. It nodded, then whispered to Shiara, “What’s a tourney?”
“It’s like a battle, only no one gets hurt. Usually.”
“Not even a little?” the dragon said. The knight started looking worried again.
“Of course not!” Shiara said to the dragon. “It’s a show of skill.”
“If you were trying to hurt each other, it wouldn’t be a tourney,” I added. Actually, it wasn’t going to be a tourney anyway; there are very specific rules about what a tourney is, and a practice fight between a dragon and a knight just doesn’t qualify. I decided not to say so.
“Oh, all right, then,” the dragon grumbled. “I don’t know why I’m letting you talk me into this. How do we start?”
THE HARDEST PART was getting the dragon and the knight to agree about rules. The Princess didn’t help much. She kept talking about the marvelous tourneys she’d seen, and which knights had been wounded. The dragon would start looking at the knight, and pretty soon it would want to know why it couldn’t bite off one of the knight’s arms, or at least a hand. The knight would get worried, and the Princess would start crying, and Shiara and I would have to talk the dragon out of it. As soon as the dragon agreed, the Princess would cheer up and start talking about tourneys again.
Finally, Shiara told the Princess to shut up. It wasn’t very polite, but it worked. Well, sort of. The Princess didn’t stop talking, but as long as she was complaining about Shiara and not talking about tourneys we didn’t have any more problems with getting the dragon and the knight to agree.
When we finally decided on the rules, we had to draw a circle in the middle of the clearing for them to fight in. It was harder than it sounds. For one thing, a circle has to be pretty big if a dragon is going to fit inside it, even if it’s a small dragon. Also, the moss in the Enchanted Forest grows awfully fast. By the time we finished drawing the circle, the first half of it had already disappeared. Shiara watched for a minute, then looked at the knight.
“Are you sure you have to have a circle to fight?” Shiara said.
“I really do think so,” the knight said apologetically. “It wouldn’t be a proper tourney without it, don’t you see.”
“I’m sick of proper dragons and proper Princesses and proper tourneys,” Shiara said under her breath. Fortunately, the dragon didn’t hear her.
We started redrawing the circle, trying to make the line wider this time. The knight scratched at the moss with his sword. Shiara used a stick. So did I; I didn’t think Mother would approve if I used the Sword of the Sleeping King to cut moss. Nightwitch and the dragon sort of dug at the ground. The Princess sat under a tree.
Eventually we finished, and the knight and the dragon stepped inside the circle. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Shiara demanded.
“Someone has to say ‘Go,’“ the knight said in a reasonable tone.
“Go!” I said quickly.
Shiara gave me a disgusted look, but she didn’t say anything, because as soon as I shouted the dragon and the knight got started. They were fairly evenly matched. The dragon was much larger, of course, and it had a very good sense of timing, but it didn’t have much experience. The knight was wearing armor, which helped, and he was obviously used to fighting, but he was a little awkward most of the time. They were both good at dodging, though; they each managed to take three or fours swings without hitting the other. The dragon was just starting to take another swipe at the knight, when a little tree sprouted up in front of him and hit him in the nose.
I was surprised. I mean, even in the Enchanted Forest, trees don’t usually grow that fast. The dragon was even more surprised than I was. It sort of reared back, and its tail came around very fast to balance it. Nightwitch was a little too close and had to scramble back out of the way. “Hey, watch out!” Shiara said.
The dragon jumped and swung around, looking as if it expected another tree to pop up behind it. Its tail swung in the other direction, and the end of it caught the knight right in the middle of his chest plate as he was trying to back out of the way. The dragon yelped, the Princess screamed, and the knight fell over backward into the pool of water that my sword had made when the Princess had tried to take it.
He sank out of sight right away; evidently the pool was a lot deeper than it looked. The Princess screamed again and leapt forward. I ran over, too; by the time I got to the pool, the Princess had hold of the knight. She wasn’t quite strong enough to pull him out, but she wasn’t letting go, either.
Shiara got to the pool about the same time I did, and together the three of us managed to get the knight out of the water. He was unconscious, and he had a large dent in his armor where the dragon’s tail had hit him. The Princess checked to make sure he was still alive and then burst into tears.
“Alas! See now how sad is my fate! For my love has been grievously injured and I am without protection in this awful place. Ah, woe is me!”
“Is he dead?” asked the dragon from right behind me. I jumped a little; I hadn’t noticed it come up. It peered curiously over my shoulder at the knight.
“Monster!” said the Princess. “Your base attempt to slay my love has failed! No second chance shall you have to harm him while I can stand between you! For if my love be slain, I shall care not whether I live or die, and thus I now defy you.”
She threw herself across the knight’s chest. The knight coughed, moaned, and opened his eyes. “I say, Isabelle,” he said weakly. “That really is a bit uncomfortable.” The princess sat up and started weeping all over his face. It didn’t seem to make him much more comfortable.
The dragon was still peering. “That was a very good fight,” it said to the knight. “Except for the last part. My tail still stings; I think I sprained it. Is armor always that hard?”
The knight tried to answer and started coughing instead. The Princess cried harder, until Shiara said pointedly, “I don’t think all that water is doing him much good.” The Princess stopped crying and glared at Shiara for a minute, then turned back to the knight. Somehow, she looked a lot more unhappy now that she wasn’t crying. I felt sort of sorry for her.
Finally the knight managed to get his coughing under control. He looked up at the dragon and said, “I do believe I agree with you about the fight. That trick with the tail is quite good; I don’t believe I’ve seen it before. I really must remember it.”
“Actually, it was something of an accident,” the dragon said modestly. “But I think I could do it again if I tried. Did you really think it was good?”
“Oh, quite,” the knight said. I got the feeling that he would have tried to bow if he hadn’t been lying on his back. “I think perhaps you broke one or two of my ribs.”
“I’m sorry,” said the dragon. “Is that bad?”
“It is certainly a bit uncomfortable,” the knight said. “I don’t really blame—”
A coughing spasm interrupted him. The Princess looked alarmed, but she didn’t start crying or anything. I saw Shiara watching the Princess with a surprised look on her face, and right about then Nightwitch sprang up onto the knight’s chest.
“What is this? Go hence, and leave my love in peace!” cried the Princess.
“You let my kitten alone,” Shiara said warningly.
The Princess stopped in mid-reach and looked over at Shiara. “And shall I neglect anything that may bring comfort to my love in his hurt?” she said.
“Nightwitch isn’t going to hurt—” Shiara started, then paused. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Go ahead.”
I stared at Shiara in surprise, but she was watching the Princess and Nightwitch. The Princess got scratched a couple of times before she finally managed to pick the kitten up and move her. By then the knight wasn’t coughing quite so hard anymore, but he still didn’t seem up to talking. Shiara frowned at him. “You don’t sound very good,” she said.
The dragon stuck its head farther over my shoulder. “If you can’t fix him, can I eat him?” it asked hopefully.
Nightwitch hissed. The knight looked alarmed and tried to say something, but all that came out was more coughing. The Princess said, “No!” very loudly and looked as if she wanted to throw herself on top of the knight again.
“Of course not,” Shiara said. “You promised.”
“It wouldn’t be polite,” I added. “After all, that was why you had the tourney.”
The dragon looked hurt. “I was just asking.”
“Ah, what are we going to do about them?” I said hastily, waving at the Princess and the knight. “They can’t stay here, not with the knight hurt like that.”
“It’s not so bad, really it isn’t,” the knight said, looking at the dragon nervously. He started coughing again right away, but it didn’t sound as bad as it had before and he stopped fairly quickly.
“I suppose you could come with us,” I said after a minute. It wasn’t so much that I wanted his company, or the Princess’s; it was just that I didn’t see what else I could do.
“That’s frightfully kind of you,” the knight said. He looked uncertainly at the dragon. “Very kind, to invite me to come with you. All of you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t asked the dragon about its plans yet. But you’re quite welcome to join us, if you want to.”
“Yes,” said Shiara. “I’m sure you’ll be very useful when the wizard comes back.”
“Wizard?” said the knight. He was so alarmed he almost started coughing again. “What wizard?”
“Well, actually, there are several of them,” I said. “Every now and then one of them shows up and tries to do something to us. The last one left when the dragon showed up.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back in a little while,” Shiara said. “Or one of the others will. They’ve been chasing us all over the Enchanted Forest.”
“You know,” the knight said, “I really don’t believe it would be a good idea for me to join you. I should almost certainly be a bit of an inconvenience, you see. Wet armor rusts, and with that and the ribs I’m afraid I’d be a little slow. Thank you terribly, all the same.”
“If you don’t come with us, what will you do?” I said.
“Mrow,” said Nightwitch.
“Morwen!” Shiara said. “They can go to Morwen! She’ll know what to do for them.” Nightwitch started purring loudly, sort of like a pepper grinder with rocks in it.
I thought about it for a minute. “It sounds like a good idea, but will she want to?”
“Morwen likes helping people,” Shiara said. “And I’m sure she can take care of both of them.”
“You know Morwen?” said the dragon. “I like her. She used to give me apples out of her garden.”
I tried to imagine a dragon eating apples and failed. I could imagine Morwen giving them to a dragon, though.
“Who is this Morwen?” asked the Princess, clasping her hands in front of her. “Think you that she could help my love, indeed?”
“Morwen’s sort of a friend of ours,” I explained. “She lives back that way, with a lot of cats, and her house has kind of a strange door.”
“I didn’t have any trouble with it,” Shiara said. “And she has nine cats. She told me while you were asleep.”
“Nine cats?” said the Princess, looking puzzled. “But what has that to do with my love, who is so grievously hurt?”
“I said it wasn’t that bad, Isabelle,” said the knight uncomfortably. “Really, I wish you wouldn’t make such a fuss. I shall be quite all right in a little, I’m sure.”
“If this woman with the many cats can help you, then shall we go to her,” the Princess declared with more spirit than she had shown about anything else. “For you are my love, and I will have you whole and well.”
“Oh, but really, Isabelle—”
“I’m sure Morwen won’t mind,” Shiara put in. “She fixed Daystar up just fine. She’s even good with wet swords.”
The Princess looked thoroughly confused, but the knight brightened a little. “Are you quite sure? Because I’m frightfully wet, sword and armor and everything, and it would be very nice if I could keep it all from rusting. It’s rather expensive, you see.”
“I’m sure she could manage that,” Shiara said. “Of course, you don’t have to go. You could stay here and wait for the wizard to come back.”
The knight didn’t argue much longer; I don’t think he liked the idea of staying around the dragon, especially if a lot of wizards were going to show up any minute. As soon as he agreed, the Princess started telling him how wise and brave and wonderful he was. Shiara looked disgusted, but the knight seemed to like it. He sat up and even managed not to cough very much.
Shiara and I told the knight how to find Morwen’s house. He and the Princess said good-bye and started walking off down the stream. “That’s a relief!” Shiara said when they were out of earshot. “For a while I thought you were going to make us go with that stupid Princess! It was bad enough having to listen to her here without following her around.”
I blinked at her. “But I thought you changed your mind about her!” I said. “You were being a lot nicer to her after the knight got hurt.”
Shiara snorted. “So I felt sorry for her. She really does care about that klutz in the tin suit; you could tell. That doesn’t mean I like her! I still think she’s dumber than you are, but I’m glad they’re going to see Morwen.”
I still wasn’t really sure whether Morwen would object or not, but I didn’t say anything else about it. I mean, by then it was too late anyway; the knight and the Princess were completely out of sight. I turned around to see where I’d put the bundle of food and things Morwen had given me. The dragon was staring at me.
“Why,” it said, “do you have wizards chasing you?”
“It’s a rather long story,” I said. “I’ll be glad to explain, but you might want to make yourself comfortable first.”
The dragon sighed. “Have you ever tried to be comfortable with a sprained tail?”
Shiara giggled. I ignored her. We waited while the dragon tried curling into a couple of different positions. One of them looked sort of like Suz when he was halfway through getting up on his tail. Finally, the dragon curled itself around the little tree that had sprouted up in the middle of the tourney. “That’s better,” it said. “Enchanted trees are always more comfortable than regular ones.”
“Enchanted trees?” Shiara said.
“Of course,” the dragon said. “What else do you expect to find in an enchanted forest? I’m going to have to remember to tell someone about this, though; there haven’t been any new ones in a long time.”
I looked at the tree a little more closely. It was about six feet tall now, and it seemed to have stopped growing. It didn’t look very different from the other trees in the Enchanted Forest, except that it was a lot smaller than any of the ones growing around the edge of the clearing. And, of course, none of the other trees had dragons wrapped around them.
“You were going to tell me about the wizards,” said the dragon.
So I explained about Mother and Antorell, and the Sword of the Sleeping King, and everything. It took a long time. The dragon didn’t say anything at all the whole time I was talking, but its tail twitched a couple of times. Every time it did, the dragon winced.
“That’s very interesting,” the dragon said when I stopped. “Where are you going now?”
“Morwen told us to follow the stream,” Shiara said. “And Suz said we should go talk to someone named Kazul.”
“It’s the same thing,” the dragon said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The stream goes to the castle, and Kazul lives right outside it. I wonder why she wants to see you?”
“What castle?” Shiara said in an exasperated voice. “And who is this Kazul person, anyway?”
“It must have something to do with that sword,” the dragon said, ignoring her questions completely. “Especially if it really does belong to the Sleeping King.”
“You mean you know something about it?” Shiara said. “Well, then tell us what the stupid thing does!”
The dragon looked sheepish. Dragons just weren’t meant to look sheepish. “I don’t know. I’m not old enough yet,” it said.
“Not old enough?”
“That’s why I wanted a Princess,” the dragon said. “Otherwise, Kazul won’t tell me anything important until I’m two hundred. She says that before then dragons are irresponsible, unwise, and talk too much.” It looked faintly indignant. “I don’t talk too much.”
“Who is Kazul?” I said. I was getting a little nervous about meeting her. I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever know anyone who could tell a dragon what to do, even a young one. Well, Mother might be able to get away with it.
“Oh, I thought you knew,” the dragon said. “Kazul is the King of the Dragons.”
SHIARA AND I looked at each other. “Terrific,” Shiara said. “And I thought wizards were bad.”
“Did I say something wrong?” the dragon asked.
“No, not at all,” I said hastily. “We were just a little surprised, that’s all.”
“Hey!” Shiara said. “How can Kazul be King of the Dragons if she’s a she? That doesn’t make sense!”
“It does too!” the dragon said. “What else would you call her?”
“How about Queen?” Shiara said sarcastically.
“Queen?” the dragon said. “Why would you want to call her a Queen? That’s not the same thing at all! You’re the one who doesn’t make sense.”
“I do too make sense!” Shiara said. “Queens do the same things Kings do.”
“Not for dragons,” I said hastily. I didn’t want the dragon to get offended again. “Dragons have a King, period. The King of the Dragons is the oldest dragon who can move Colin’s Stone from the Vanishing Mountain to the Ford of the Whispering Snakes; it doesn’t matter whether the dragon is male or female.”
“It’s silly to have two names for the same job,” the dragon said complacently. “People might get confused.”
“Oh.” Shiara looked skeptical, but at least she didn’t object anymore. I decided I was going to have to talk to her soon, before she got us both in real trouble. For about a minute, no one said anything. Then Shiara looked over at me.
“Daystar,” she said, “why are we looking for the King of the Dragons?”
I started to say something, then stopped because I wasn’t really sure what to say. I mean, it would sound a little odd to say that I was looking for a dragon because a lizard told me to. Especially since the dragon was apparently King of the Dragons. I thought some more.
“I don’t know,” I said finally. “But I think we have to. At least, I have to. It seems like the right thing to do.”
Shiara sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that.”
The dragon looked puzzled. “What’s the matter? It doesn’t sound particularly unusual to me, but I suppose it’ll be at least as interesting as running away to find a Princess.”
Shiara and I looked at the dragon, then at each other, then back at the dragon again. “You ran away?” Shiara said finally.
“It was the only way I could think of to get a Princess,” the dragon said. It sighed. “It didn’t work out the way I thought it would, though.”
Shiara and I exchanged glances again. I didn’t really like the idea of meeting Kazul in the company of a runaway dragon, but I couldn’t think of a way to keep it from coming along with us if it wanted to. “You’re sure you really want to come?” I said. “I mean, there are wizards after us, and it might be a little inconvenient if they showed up again.”
The dragon looked thoughtfully for a moment, then it shook its head. “I’m coming with you, wizards or no wizards,” it said stubbornly. “Sneezing isn’t so bad.”
I sighed. It’s awfully hard to talk a dragon out of doing something it’s decided to do. “We’d better go, then,” I said. “I’m sure Antorell will be back as soon as he thinks it’s safe, and I’d sort of like to be gone by the time he shows up.”
Shiara grabbed Morwen’s bundles and shoved one at me. “You’re absolutely right. Here. Let’s go.”
I nodded and started toward the stream. “Not that way!” said the dragon. “It takes too long.”
“How else are we going to find the stupid castle?” Shiara demanded. “We don’t even know what it looks like!”
The dragon looked smug. “I do,” it said. “And I’m very good at shortcuts.”
“Morwen told us to follow the stream,” I said doubtfully.
“Morwen didn’t know you were going to meet me,” the dragon said. It looked at me for a minute. “I thought you said you were in a hurry.”
“Come on, Daystar,” Shiara said. “I don’t care which way we go, but let’s go!”
I decided not to argue. I still didn’t like the idea of leaving the stream, but it didn’t seem worth fighting over. Not with a dragon, anyway. Besides, if we didn’t leave soon, I was sure the wizards would catch us. We started off, following the dragon.
Traveling with a dragon was rather nice, in a way. Nothing bothered us at all. When it started to get dark, we stopped and opened Morwen’s bundles again. There was obviously something magic about them, because the leftovers from lunch had turned into a fresh packet of food, and there was plenty for everyone, even the dragon.
Nothing dangerous came near us all night, either. I stayed awake for a while, just to make sure, but evidently nightshades and wolves and things don’t like the idea of annoying a dragon any more than people do. Finally, I went to sleep, too.
We started off again as soon as we woke up next morning. The dragon went first because it knew the way, and we followed. After a while, I noticed that I didn’t feel quite comfortable for some reason. I touched the hilt of the Sword of the Sleeping King a couple of times, but I didn’t feel any new magic tingles, just the same familiar ones. I started watching the trees as we walked. Finally, Shiara noticed.
“What’s the matter, Daystar?” she said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I feel as if I’m being watched.”
“Watched?” Shiara looked at the trees quickly. “Who would be watching us?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not even sure someone is. I just feel uncomfortable.”
“You’re being a little slow,” the dragon called back over its shoulder, and Shiara and I stopped talking and ran to catch up. We didn’t have a chance to discuss it again, but I noticed Shiara looking uneasily at the forest from time to time. Even Nightwitch seemed to notice something wrong; she stopped jumping at leaves and stayed close to Shiara. In fact, Shiara almost stepped on her once. After that, Shiara carried her.
In spite of all the worrying, nothing happened until late that morning. The dragon was moving on through the forest, ignoring all the little branches and things that happened to be in its way. Suddenly it gave a smothered yelp and stopped. Shiara and Nightwitch and I ran forward to see what was the matter.
The dragon was sitting back, rubbing its nose and glaring at a large open space in front of it. I looked around, but I didn’t see anything else. “What happened?” I asked.
“I ran into something,” the dragon said, glaring at me for a minute instead of the open space.
“But there isn’t anything— Ow!” Shiara started to wave toward the clearing, but her hand stopped about halfway through the wave, as if it had hit something. She rubbed her fingers, then put out her hand more cautiously. It stopped in midair, right where it had before. Nightwitch hissed and backed away.
I reached out, very carefully. It was a little strange to feel something where I couldn’t see anything. It was cool and smooth, like stone, and it went up as far as I could reach. “It’s an invisible wall!” I said.
“No, it’s an invisible castle,” Shiara said. Then she jerked her hand away and stared at the air in front of her as if she could make herself see something by trying hard. “Hey! How do I know that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “When did you figure it out?”
“I didn’t! I was just standing here, wanting to know what it was, and all of a sudden I did. I even know how to do it!”
“Do what?” asked the dragon. “Put your hand on a castle?”
“No, no; how to make things invisible!” Shiara said.
“I don’t want to know how to make things invisible,” the dragon said crossly. “I want to know where this invisible thing came from. It wasn’t here last time I came this way.”
For once, I wasn’t paying much attention to the dragon; I was staring at Shiara. “You figured out how to turn a castle invisible just by touching it?” I said.
“No, you have to do a lot of other things to it,” Shiara said absently. Then her face changed, as if she had just remembered something she didn’t like, and she stared at the open area for a minute. Then she swallowed so hard I could see it. “Let’s leave, Daystar; I don’t think I want to meet anyone who would live in an invisible castle.”
I looked at Shiara, and then at the open space. I looked back at Shiara and opened my mouth to ask why we ought to leave, but I stopped before I said anything. Shiara looked a little white, and a little sick, and a lot scared. I hadn’t ever seen Shiara look like that before, not even when the wizard tried to catch us with his snakey water monster. Especially not then. I decided I could wait to find out what the problem was. “All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”
“But I want to know what it’s doing in the middle of my shortcut,” the dragon complained.
“We can talk about it somewhere else,” I said.
Shiara was already backing into the trees; her eyes were still fixed on the open space where the castle would be if we could see it. I glanced back at the dragon. It sort of shrugged. “Oh, all right,” it said. “But I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
Right then Shiara yelled, sort of a half yell that stopped in the middle. I whirled around. There was a woman standing where Shiara had been. She was very tall, and she had long hair that was so red it was almost black. She was dressed in something green and shining and elegant that hung from a deep red jewel at her throat, and she was very beautiful. More beautiful than the Princess, even. I didn’t care.
“Where’s Shiara?” I said.
She smiled, the same way a very satisfied cat smiles, except that cats don’t look evil. Well, most cats don’t. “Shiara; is that your little friend’s name? She’s right here, my dear.” She stepped aside, and I went cold. Behind her, where it had been hidden until she moved aside, was a grey stone statue that looked exactly like Shiara.
“That can’t be Shiara!” I said. I was too upset to even think about being polite. “Shiara’s a fire-witch, and fire-witches are immune to magic!”
The woman smiled another unpleasant smile. “Not the magic of another fire-witch,” she said. “I’ve been waiting a long time for someone else to come by; I need her for something.”
“How is turning her into a statue going to help?” I said. I was hoping I could talk her into changing Shiara back; then maybe I could do something to keep Shiara that way.
The fire-witch glanced at the statue. “It’s an excellent way of storing people until you need them,” she said. “I have quite a number in my garden; they’re ornamental as well as useful.”
“That doesn’t sound nice,” the dragon said.
The woman seemed to see it for the first time, which I thought was a little odd. I mean, dragons aren’t exactly easy to overlook. “I am not concerned with being nice,” she said.
“Why not?” I said.
The fire-witch turned and looked at me. Suddenly her eyes narrowed. “Who are you, boy?” she said sharply.
“My name is Daystar,” I said, “and I would appreciate it if you would change Shiara back.”
“No,” she said flatly. “Why should I?” She was still staring at me, as if she were trying to figure something out. “You’re very interesting, Daystar,” she said abruptly. “I think perhaps I’ll let you go. I haven’t done anything like that in a long time; it might be an interesting experience. I think you had better leave before I change my mind.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving until you turn Shiara back,” I said.
“Then I am afraid you will grow rather bored,” the woman said. She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t have any use for you, and I can’t be bothered storing things that aren’t useful. Pity; you’d make a nice fountain.” She lifted one hand and snapped her fingers.
I had just enough time to realize that I hadn’t drawn my sword. I grabbed for it and pulled, knowing I wasn’t going to make it. There was something like an explosion just in front of me, and a wave of heat, and then I was holding the Sword of the Sleeping King up in front of me and watching the fire-witch cursing and stamping at something. She didn’t look at all elegant anymore.
Suddenly I realized why the fire-witch had missed. “Nightwitch!” I yelled. A small bundle of black fur darted out from under the witch’s skirt and vanished under a bush. The fire-witch glared after the kitten, then turned back to me. “You’ll suffer for—”
Right next to me there was a sound like someone blowing out several very large candles all at once, and a stream of fire shot out and enveloped the fire-witch. She laughed.
“Fire, to harm me? Even a dragon should know better! I’ll see to you in a moment; do you think I am fool enough to grow a garden without dragonsbane?”
The dragon shuddered, and the fire-witch laughed again. Then she looked at me, and her eyes glittered. “I want you first, though. Now!” She pointed at me, and I raised the Sword of the Sleeping King a little higher, holding on to the hilt with both hands and hoping it would be able to do something.
Something hit the sword, and pain ran through my whole body. It felt a little like the shock I’d gotten when Shiara and I had tried to pick up the sword at the same time, except it went on and on. The Sword of the Sleeping King began to get hot. I felt as if boiling lead were running down the sword and into my arms. I think I screamed; I know the fire-witch did, because I heard her.
The Sword of the Sleeping King was glowing dull red in my hands. It wasn’t behaving at all the way it had when it stopped Antorell’s spell, and I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t very good for it. It wasn’t very good for me, either; the sensation of boiling lead was oozing farther up my arms.
I knew I had to do something, because if I didn’t I was going to drop the sword. I yelled something and pushed. At least, pushing is the only way I can describe what I did. I wasn’t really thinking too clearly by then; I just wanted the lead to go back into the sword and quit hurting.
I heard a wail from the fire-witch that kind of died out, and the pain stopped very suddenly. I noticed that the sword wasn’t glowing anymore, and then I fell over. It wasn’t that I felt particularly tired or weak; I just couldn’t stand up anymore. The last thing I remember thinking was that I had to hang on to the sword, no matter what.
I woke up because something small and warm and rough was rubbing my chin. I opened my eyes. Nightwitch was sitting on the ground in front of me, licking my face. I was lying facedown on the moss; I could feel the Sword of the Sleeping King underneath me. It was very uncomfortable, but I didn’t feel like moving. I closed my eyes again.
Nightwitch hissed and dug her claws into my shoulder. Kittens have surprisingly sharp claws; I opened my eyes again very quickly. The dragon was staring at me from beside Nightwitch. At least, its head was beside Nightwitch; the rest of it wouldn’t fit. It blinked at me.
“Are you dead?” it asked.
“No,” I said. I thought about saying something else, but I didn’t have the energy.
“Oh.” The dragon sounded almost disappointed for a minute. Then it brightened. “I think that fire-witch is.”
“That’s nice.” I had the feeling I should remember something, but I didn’t want to think hard enough to figure out what. Nightwitch hissed and dug her claws into me again. “Stop that!” I said, and I rolled onto my back to keep her from doing it again.
“What?” said the dragon.
“Nightwitch,” I said. Rolling over had taken all the energy I had; I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t even want to think anymore. I wanted the dragon to just leave me alone, but I couldn’t say so without being rude, so I closed my eyes and started drifting off to sleep instead. Then Nightwitch jumped onto my chest and dug her claws in hard.
I yelled and sat up. Nightwitch jumped down to the ground and ran off. I tried to see where she’d gone and saw Morwen’s bundle instead. Suddenly I realized that I was very hungry. I started to reach for the bundle, then remembered that I was still holding the sword. I also remembered the boiling lead, and I was almost afraid to look at my hands. I was sure that this time I’d burned both of them worse than when I’d picked up the wizard’s staff.
I looked down. There wasn’t anything wrong with me— at least, not that I could see. I let go of the sword with one hand; it didn’t hurt. I heaved a sigh of relief and put the sword back in its sheath, then got out some of Morwen’s gingerbread and started eating. It was a good thing the food was right on top of the bundle; I didn’t have the strength to hunt for it.
The dragon watched me for a few minutes with a puzzled expression. “You’re a very good magician,” it said finally. “Where did you learn that spell?”
“Spell?” I was having a little trouble remembering the details of the fight. I wasn’t sure whether it was because it had hurt so badly or because I was too busy eating.
“The one you shouted right before the witch went up in smoke,” the dragon said. “You said:
‘Power of water, wind, and earth,
Turn the spell back to its birth.’“
“Oh, that,” I said. I felt a little silly. “It’s just part of a rhyme Mother taught me when I was little. I don’t know why I said it.”
“Your mother taught you? But that’s a dragon spell! Your mother couldn’t teach you dragon spells!”
“You don’t know my mother,” I said. I’d eaten most of the gingerbread, and I was feeling much better. “She taught me two more lines to the rhyme,” I offered. “They go:
‘Raise the fire to free the lord
By the power of wood and sword.’“
The dragon looked at me suspiciously. “Where did your mother learn dragon spells?”
“I’m afraid she didn’t tell me,” I said. I finished the gingerbread and looked around. “Where did Shiara...” My voice died in mid-sentence as I remembered exactly where Shiara had been when I saw her last. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. I took a deep breath and turned my head.
Sometimes, when witches or wizards die, all their spells die with them. If the witch or wizard is skillful, sometimes the spells last. The fire-witch had been skillful. Shiara was still a statue.
I SAT THERE for a minute, staring at the statue and wondering what to do. Finally I looked at the dragon. “Do you know anything about magic?”
“Of course I do!” the dragon said. “Everyone who lives in the Enchanted Forest knows about magic.”
I sighed. “I mean, do you know anything about turning statues that used to be people back into people again? Because I don’t, and we have to figure out some way to fix Shiara.”
“Oh.” The dragon looked doubtfully at the statue of Shiara. “We could take her to the Living Spring and drop her in,” it suggested. “That would bring her back to life.”
“You know where the Living Spring is?” I said in surprise.
“No,” said the dragon. “But I bet if we found it, it would work.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think we have time to look for it,” I said. “There are wizards looking for us, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” the dragon said. “I keep forgetting. I don’t like to think about wizards.” It blinked. “What about your sword? You could say that spell again.”
I nodded. I walked over to Shiara and pulled the Sword of the Sleeping King out of its sheath. I felt a little uncomfortable, partly because I hadn’t thought of using the sword and partly because the dragon spell was still just one of Mother’s nursery rhymes to me. The idea of standing in the middle of the Enchanted Forest holding a magic sword and reciting nursery rhymes made me feel very silly. I looked at the statue of Shiara again and decided I’d try it anyway. Slowly, I lowered the point so that it touched the statue’s shoulder and said:
“Power of water, wind, and earth
Turn the spell back to its birth.
Raise the fire to free the lord
By the power of wood and sword.”
For a minute I thought nothing had happened; then three or four little tingles ran up my arm from the sword. I hadn’t even realized they were missing until they started again. When I finally did notice, I was relieved. I mean. Mother wouldn’t have been at all happy with me if I’d ruined the Sword of the Sleeping King somehow.
Unfortunately, Shiara was still a statue. “I suppose we’re going to have to look for the Living Spring,” I said. “Unless you have some other ideas.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” the dragon said. “I’ve never been on an adventure before. How are we going to find the spring?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Half of the heroes who stopped at our cottage had been looking for the Living Spring, and I’d never heard of one of them finding it. I tried to think of someone who might know where the spring was. “Suz!” I said suddenly.
“What?” the dragon said.
“Suz is sort of a friend of mine,” I explained. “He says he knows everything that goes on in the Enchanted Forest; I’m sure he’d know where the Living Spring is. I wish he were here.”
“You do?” said a squeaky voice by my right foot. “Yes, you really do! How intriguing. Why do you?”
“Suz!” I said. I looked around until I saw him, then carefully sat down on the ground. “I’m awfully glad to see you. Do you know where the Living Spring is?”
“The Living Spring?” Suz said. “Dear me! Why do you want to know?”
“What’s that?” said the dragon, who had finally managed to find the source of the squeaky voice. “It looks like a little dragon.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Suz; I was just telling you about him. He’s not a dragon; he’s a lizard.”
“A lizard of extremely good family,” Suz said. He frowned at the dragon, but the dragon didn’t seem to notice. Suz gave up and looked back at me. “Now, why do you want to know about the Living Spring?”
“Because Shiara got turned into a statue by the fire-witch who lived in the invisible castle,” I said.
“She did?” The lizard peered around until he saw the statue, then scurried over. He cocked his head briefly and stared upward, then ran up the grey stone in a spiral until he was sitting on one of the statue’s shoulders. “She really did! How exceedingly distressing. What are you going to do about it?”
“We thought if we dropped the statue into the Living Spring, it would, well, fix Shiara,” I said. “But we don’t know where the spring is.”
“You don’t? No, of course you don’t. It’s a secret.” Suz peered at me from Shiara’s shoulder. “I suppose you want me to tell you where it is.” He considered for a moment. “I couldn’t possibly do that, so you don’t need to bother asking.”
“But Suz!” I said. “How else can we fix Shiara? I’ve tried everything we could think of, and nothing worked.”
“That is extremely obvious,” the lizard said severely. He ran down the side of the statue and stopped right in front of me. “If anything had worked, she wouldn’t be a statue, and you wouldn’t be asking me silly questions,” he said, and did whatever the thing was that he did to balance on his tail. “People who are looking for things in the Enchanted Forest have to find them for themselves. You really ought to know that, you really ought.”
“Well, what are we going to do about Shiara if you won’t tell us where the spring is?” I said.
“My goodness gracious, you certainly are persistent,” Suz said. “Have you tried kissing her?”
“Kissing her?” I said incredulously.
“Kissing the statue,” Suz explained condescendingly. “It’s one of the standard cures for being made to sleep for years, or being turned into a frog or a statue or something else like that. Have you tried it?”
I felt my face getting hot. “Um, well, no,” I said.
“Well, then,” Suz said pointedly.
I thought about it for a minute or two. I didn’t know whether Shiara would think much of my kissing her, but I didn’t really object, especially if it would break the spell. In fact, I sort of liked the idea. At that point, I stood up very quickly because my face was getting even hotter and I could feel Suz staring at me.
I was standing right next to the statue, and as soon as I was all the way standing I leaned forward and kissed it. I didn’t want to take time to look before I did it, because I didn’t really want to think about it. First I felt cold stone, but it warmed up right away, and a second later Shiara jerked away and said, “Hey! Daystar, what on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“It worked!” I said. I was awfully relieved. It would have been a lot of work to carry a statue around with us, and if we hadn’t gotten Shiara turned back into Shiara, we would have had to. Besides, having Shiara back felt good, even if she was glaring at me.
“What worked?” Shiara demanded suspiciously. “And where did that witch go? She was here a minute ago.”
“You were a statue,” the dragon informed her. “The fire-witch did it, but Daystar got rid of her. I’m very glad he did,” it added thoughtfully. “I didn’t like her. She wasn’t polite at all, and she.. .and she...” The dragon leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, “And she grew dragonsbane!”
Shiara stared at the dragon, but before she could say anything there was a loud squeak from behind her, and Suz’s voice started shouting. “Help! Murder! Wild beasts and dangerous lunatics! Oh dear oh my help help goodness gracious help oh!”
I turned around. Nightwitch had come out from wherever she’d been hiding, and apparently she’d managed to sneak up on Suz while I was, well, kissing Shiara. Suz was rolled into a tight golden ball, and Nightwitch was batting him back and forth between her paws in wide-eyed fascination. I didn’t think she’d ever played with a ball that yelled at her before, which would explain the interest.
I bent over to pick up Nightwitch, but before I actually got hold of her the lizard uncurled very quickly, slapped his tail sharply against the kitten’s nose, and curled up tight again. He didn’t stop yelling the whole time. The kitten jerked her head back so fast that she sat down hard on her tail, and I grabbed her.
“It’s all right now, Suz,” I said.
The lizard poked his nose out of the ball. “You’re quite certain?” he said.
“Yes, of course,” I said.
Suz uncurled a little more. “This sort of thing is quite unsettling,” he said. “I do not approve at all. Dear me, no, not at all.”
“I’m very sorry,” I said. “I’m afraid I didn’t know she was there.”
“People who keep wild animals ought to know where they are so they don’t go around eating other people,” the lizard said. He uncurled the rest of the way and lay on the moss, peering reproachfully up at me.
I bent down, and Suz scooted back a couple of feet. “You keep that, that beast away from me!”
“Nightwitch isn’t a wild animal,” Shiara said indignantly. “She’s a kitten. And I don’t believe she meant to eat you; she just wanted to play.”
“She’s too young to know better,” I said. Shiara glared at me, and I added hastily, “Nightwitch, I mean.”
“She is?” The lizard squinted at Nightwitch from a safe distance. “Yes, I suppose she is,” he said reluctantly. “How unfortunate. I really do think I had better leave. Dear me, yes, I really must.”
Suz nodded and headed off into the woods. “Suz, wait!” Shiara called.
The lizard stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry Nightwitch scared you,” Shiara said.
“You are?” Suz turned around and ran back to where Shiara was standing. He cocked his head at her, then did his tangled tail-balancing trick and stared up at her. “Why, you really are! How astonishing! How extraordinary! How extremely unexpected!”
I was a little surprised myself, but I didn’t think it was quite that unusual. I didn’t mention it, though; I had a few other things I wanted to ask Suz as long as he was still around.
“Suz?” The lizard turned his head and looked at me. “What’s the best way to get to the castle where Kazul lives from here?” I asked.
“Why, it’s—” Suz paused. “Dear me, there seems to be an invisible castle in the way. How ridiculous. I’m afraid you’ll just have to go around.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said. “But thank you anyway.”
“It’s quite all right. And I really must be going now, I really must. Good-bye.” Suz bowed politely, then did a quick backflip and scurried off into the woods.
“And thank you for telling me how to change Shiara back!” I called.
Suz didn’t answer. I turned back to find Shiara glaring at me again.
“All right, Daystar, explain. What’s all this about statues and getting rid of witches?”
“I already told you all that,” the dragon said in an injured tone. “Why do you want him to tell you again?”
“Because I didn’t understand it when you told it,” Shiara said. She sounded a lot like Mother. “And I want to know what’s been going on.” She sat down on the ground and looked at me. “So explain.”
I explained. Shiara let me talk until I started to explain how we’d finally turned her from a statue back into Shiara, but then she interrupted. “You don’t have to keep going,” she said. She gave me an odd look. “I remember that part.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” I offered. My face was getting hot again. “But no one could think of anything else, and it did work.”
Shiara wasn’t paying much attention. “Daystar, did your sword burn your hands when Antorell tried to throw that spell at you?” she said suddenly.
“No,” I said, relieved by the change of subject. “It didn’t do anything at all.”
“It did too!” Shiara said. “It ate Antorell’s spell, or something, without doing anything to you. Why didn’t it do that to the fire-witch’s spell?”
“Who’s Antorell?” asked the dragon.
“The wizard you were sneezing at when we met,” I said. “He’s not very pleasant.”
“Wizards aren’t,” the dragon said.
“Daystar, this is important!” Shiara said. “Do you know why your sword didn’t do the same thing to the fire-witch that it did to Antorell?”
“Maybe the sword works differently on wizards than it does on fire-witches,” I said. “I wish it would get rid of Antorell; then I could stop worrying about him.”
Shiara said something else, but I missed it. All of a sudden I had the same itchy feeling I’d had earlier, as if someone were watching me. I looked over my shoulder, but there wasn’t anyone there. Just trees.
“Daystar?” Shiara almost sounded worried.
“I’m all right,” I said. “But can we get started and talk about this more somewhere else? We still have to get to see Kazul, and there’s an invisible castle in the way.”
“Shouldn’t we do something about the people she turned into statues for her garden?” Shiara said, looking nervously at the clearing where the castle ought to be.
“Why?” said the dragon in a puzzled tone.
“Because it wouldn’t be right to just leave them here,” I said.
No one seemed to like the idea of going into the castle. No one wanted to leave the fire-witch’s statue people there without trying to rescue them, either. We spent a little while trying to figure out how to get into the castle. Shiara wanted to climb over the wall, but I didn’t think that was a very good idea if we couldn’t see the wall or what was on the other side. Finally, she agreed to help me look for a door or a gate or something.
We stretched our hands out in front of us and walked carefully toward the castle. It wasn’t there. We went a little farther; it still wasn’t there. We walked around the clearing for a while, while the dragon watched with interest. Eventually, we gave up.
“I don’t understand,” Shiara said as we came back to pick up Nightwitch and Morwen’s bundles. “Where did it go?”
“Maybe the fire-witch moved it while she was talking to me,” I said.
“A whole castle? That fast? Besides, didn’t Suz say it was still in the way? It must have moved since he left.” Shiara stopped, and her eyes widened. “Daystar, you don’t think she could still be around, do you?”
“She isn’t around anywhere,” the dragon said positively. “She went up in smoke; I saw her.”
“Good,” Shiara said savagely. I must have looked awfully surprised, because Shiara glared at me and added, “She deserved it. You don’t know what she had to do to make that castle invisible.”
“What was it?” the dragon said curiously.
Shiara glared at it, too. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?” said the dragon.
“Because she tortured people to death!” Shiara shouted. “It was part of the spell, and I know how to do it, and I don’t want to think about it!”
“I told you she wasn’t a nice person,” the dragon said.
Shiara snorted. She picked up Nightwitch and her bundle and started walking. After a couple of seconds, the dragon and I followed her. We went straight across the clearing; I sort of hoped we’d find the castle again, because I felt bad about the statues, but it still wasn’t there.
Once we got across the clearing, the dragon took the lead again. Nobody said much for the rest of the morning, which was fine with me; I still felt like someone was watching me, and I didn’t like it. Finally even the dragon noticed.
“You look a little strange,” it said. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I just feel like someone’s watching me.”
“I think you’re imagining things,” Shiara said. “I’ve been looking since you told me about it this morning, and I haven’t seen anyone.”
“Someone’s following us?” the dragon said. It blinked at me, then turned in a slow circle, eyeing the trees. “You’re right,” it said finally. “Someone is following us. That’s not polite.”
Before Shiara or I could say anything, the dragon’s head shot out toward one of the trees. I’d never seen anything move so fast. There was a loud yell from someone who wasn’t the dragon; then the dragon yelped and a bunch of leaves came drifting down to the ground. I heard a couple of crashing noises and another, louder yell, and then the dragon reappeared. Dangling by the seat of his pants from the dragon’s mouth was an elf.
I stared for a minute, trying to decide whether this was the same elf we’d met before. He looked the same, but all elves look alike. Besides, he was yelling and kicking, and every now and then the dragon would shake its head, which made it hard to get a good look at the elf.
I almost laughed; the dragon looked a lot like a very large cat with a small mouse. Nightwitch evidently thought so, too; she eyed the wriggling elf with some interest, then looked at me. “Mrrow?” she said.
“I’m afraid he’s too big for you,” I said.
“He certainly is!” yelled the elf. “Put me down! Let me down at once!”
“Mrof!” said the dragon through a mouthful of cloth.
“I don’t think he wants to,” I said to the elf. “Why were you following us?”
“Hey!” said Shiara. “Are you the elf we ran into before? Because if you are, I want to talk to you.”
The elf stopped struggling and looked down at Shiara. Then he twisted around and looked at the dragon. “On the other hand, maybe I’m better off up here,” he said.
“Mmnuf!” said the dragon, and shook its head violently.
“Yow!” said the elf. “Help! I surrender!”
“Really?” Shiara said skeptically.
“Really!” said the elf. “Absolutely! Completely and without question. Will you put me down?”
“Maybe you should,” I said to the dragon. “I don’t think he can get away from all of us, and it will be a lot easier for you to talk.”
The dragon looked at me for a minute, then slowly lowered its head and dropped the elf in a heap in front of us. The elf lay there breathing hard while Shiara and the dragon and I closed in around him. As soon as we stopped moving, he bounced to his feet and spun rapidly in a circle, bowing to each of us. Then he sat down cross-legged and looked up at us with bright black eyes.
“Now,” said the elf, “what can I do for you?”