Searching for Dragons Page 13

  “Nothing that simple,” Telemain said. “The difficulty is magical in nature.”

  “Ah! You want seven-league boots! Well, you’re in luck. A pair of ’em just came in this morning. They’re practically brand-new, hardly been used at all. Or there’s a swell pair of ruby slippers that’d be perfect for the lady. I’ll throw in the magic belt that goes with ’em for free. Or—”

  “No, no, Jack,” Telemain interrupted. “The problem is with this.” He stepped aside and let Jack get a good look at the magic carpet.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed to slits of concentration. He stepped forward and studied the carpet, then paced around it, much as Telemain had done earlier. “No kidding,” he said at last. “That carpet’s a problem, all right.”

  “Can you fix it?” Cimorene asked.

  “Sure. Give me a week, and she’ll be good as new.”

  “A week!” Cimorene looked at him in dismay. “Can’t you fix it any faster than that?”

  Jack spread his hands out and shrugged. “Maybe, but I can’t promise. It depends on how fast I can get parts.”

  “Then we’ll leave it here and go on without it tomorrow,” Mendanbar said. At least they wouldn’t have to carry the thing around anymore, and they wouldn’t be tempted to use it in spite of its hazards. “You can send it home when it’s finished, can’t you?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem.” Jack smiled. “Where do you want it?”

  Cimorene hesitated. “You’re not one of those Jacks who go around killing giants, are you?”

  “Lady, what do you think I am, stupid or something?” Jack asked. “I’m a businessman. I don’t do giants.”

  “Then please send the carpet to Ballimore the Giantess on Flat Top Mountain when you’re done fixing it,” Cimorene said. “And the bill to Cimorene, Chief Cook and Librarian, in care of the King of the Dragons.”

  “King of the Dragons, eh?” Jack said thoughtfully.

  “Yes, and don’t go padding the bill, Jack,” Telemain warned.

  “Me? Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jack kicked the carpet into a loose roll and heaved it up onto his shoulder. “Anything else?”

  “Is there a safe place near here where we can spend the night?” Mendanbar asked.

  “Sure,” Jack said. He balanced the carpet with one hand and jerked the thumb of the other at the blue-and-yellow house on wheels. “Right there. I got two spare rooms on the end I can rent you for as long as you want ’em.”

  “Tonight is all we need,” Mendanbar said, and Cim­orene nodded.

  Jack bobbed his head in a way that managed to suggest a full-fledged formal bow, then started toward the house, carrying the carpet. Mendanbar turned to Telemain. “Thank you very much for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” Telemain said, and started after Jack.

  “Hey!” Cimorene said. “Where are you going?”

  “To arrange for my own bed and board,” Telemain explained patiently. “You didn’t really expect me to leave before you’d answered my questions, did you?”

  Without waiting for a reply, the magician followed Jack into the house. Mendanbar and Cimorene looked at each other, shrugged, and went in after them.

  The front door of Jack’s house opened into a cluttered room painted a bright green that clashed with almost everything. Fortunately, most of the walls were hidden behind piles of boxes, barrels, bales, and bundles. Jack propped the carpet in a crowded corner, where it leaned precariously against two paintings balanced on a stack of books. Then he set about fixing dinner.

  Cimorene kept Telemain’s attention occupied while Jack worked, and at first Mendanbar was glad of it. He wanted time to think and to sort out some of the confusing things that had happened in the last two days. He was sure that a few of them were important, and if he could only concentrate for a little while he could figure out which ones.

  He quickly discovered that it was not going to work. The conversation between Cimorene and Telemain was much too distracting, even though he was not particularly interested in anything they were talking about. Finally he gave up trying to think and listened instead.

  “—window wasn’t up to it,” Cimorene was saying. “So I used a spell to boost it.”

  “And that broke it?” Telemain said, frowning.

  “No,” Cimorene replied. “It worked just fine. The window turned white, and then showed Kazul and a lot of wizards.” Her face darkened. “And when I catch up with them—”

  “Yes, of course,” Telemain said hastily. “What happened next?”

  “I told the window to show me where they were, and then it broke.”

  “I can fix up a new one for you,” Jack put in over his shoulder. “I got some glass around somewhere, and it’s no trick at all to cut it to size.”

  “I’ll think about it, Jack,” Telemain said. He looked at Cimorene. “The window just . . . broke? It didn’t show anything at all?”

  Cimorene nodded. “Not a thing. Right, Mendanbar?”

  “Right,” Mendanbar said. “The picture of Kazul and the wizards disappeared, and the window turned bright green, and then it broke. I think it was trying to show us a place inside the Enchanted Forest and couldn’t.”

  “It should have been able to,” Telemain said. “I tested it very thoroughly. I suppose the enchantment might have been wearing thin. What kind of spell did you say you used to boost it?” he asked, turning to Cimorene.

  Cimorene hesitated, then shrugged. “It was a dragon spell I found in Kazul’s library last year. It’s very adaptable, and—”

  A shout from outside the house interrupted Cim­orene in mid-sentence. “You in there! Come out at once. There’s no point in hiding.”

  Jack muttered something and stuck his head out the window. “Hang on!” he shouted. “I’ll just be a min—”

  Something exploded outside, knocking Jack back through the window and making the whole house rock. “Come out!” the voice repeated. “Now!”

  “Wizards got no patience,” Jack muttered, glaring at the window.

  Mendanbar stiffened and looked at Cimorene.

  “We’d better go out, or he’ll tear the house down,” she said. “Jack, can you mix up a bucket of soapy water with a little lemon juice in it, quick?”

  “Huh?” said Jack.

  “A bucket of soap and water and lemon juice,” Cim­orene repeated impatiently. “It melts wizards. Hurry up and bring it out after us. I think we’re going to need it.”

  “Soapy water with lemon melts wizards?” Telemain said with great interest. “How did you discover that?”

  Another explosion rocked the house. “Never mind that now,” Cimorene said. “Come on!” she pushed the door open and darted out.

  With a muttered curse, Mendanbar followed. He remembered the steps just in time to jump over them instead of tripping. As he landed, he dodged to one side and pulled his sword out. Only then did he stop to look around.

  Cimorene stood with her back against the house, watching the wizard warily. The wizard was very easy to see, even though it was by now quite dark, because he was glowing as brightly as a bonfire. He was taller than the wizard who had invaded Cimorene’s cave, and he wore red robes instead of blue and brown, but his staff was of the same dark, polished wood and his sandy beard was just as long and scraggly. Mendanbar wondered irrelevantly whether the Society of Wizards had a rule against its members trimming their beards.

  “Cimorene!” the wizard said. “I might have guessed. What have you—no, you haven’t got it. Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” Mendanbar demanded. “And what do you mean by causing all this commotion? Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock on doors and ask for things politely?”

  “So you’ve picked up a hero,” the wizard said to Cimorene with a sneer. “He won’t do you any good. Where is it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cimorene said.

  “Neither does he,” Telemain commented from the doorway. “Unless he’s even more fu
zzy-headed than he seems. From the way he’s been leaping to conclusions without any evidence at all, that’s entirely possible.”

  The wizard’s eyes narrowed and he pointed his staff at Telemain. “Who are you?”

  “That’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said since you arrived,” Telemain said. “My name is Telemain. I’m a magician.”

  “A magician!” The wizard sucked in his breath. “I suppose we are after the same thing. I warn you, you had better not cross me. I represent the Society of Wizards in this matter.”

  “What matter?” Cimorene asked crossly.

  “Yes, you have displayed a lamentable lack of precision in your account of your purposes,” Telemain said. “Just what—”

  Mendanbar felt the harsh swell of the wizard’s magic an instant before the spell left the man’s staff. Without thought, he swung his sword to parry it. As it touched the bolt of magic, the sword hummed hungrily. A shiver ran up Mendanbar’s arm from the hilt of the sword to his shoulder, and the spell was gone.

  “I wouldn’t do that again, if I were you,” Mendanbar told the wizard.

  Everyone stared at Mendanbar. The wizard was the first to recover. “The sword!” he cried. “I should have seen it at once. Excellent! This makes everything easy.”

  He moved the end of his staff a few inches to point at Mendanbar and muttered something under his breath. Mendanbar sensed magic building up in the staff again. This time he didn’t wait for the wizard to release the spell. He pushed a tendril of his own magic out through the sword and touched the wizard’s staff gently with it.

  Power flowed into the sword like water being soaked up by a sponge. The feeling of magic that surrounded the wizard vanished, and so did his glow. The wizard gave a squawk of surprise. He lowered his staff, staring at Mendanbar.

  “How did you do that?” he demanded. “You’re just a hero. How could you possibly reverse my spell?”

  “I didn’t reverse your spell,” Mendanbar said. “I stopped it, that’s all. And I’m not a hero. I’m the King of the Enchanted Forest.”

  The wizard’s eyes widened. Certain that the man was going to try another spell, Mendanbar reached out with the sword’s magic, hoping to stop him before he could properly begin. He wasn’t quite fast enough. As the threads of the sword’s magic wrapped themselves around the wizard’s staff, the wizard disappeared.

  There was a moment of silence. “Mendanbar, what did you do?” Cimorene said at last.

  “Nothing,” Mendanbar said. “I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry. I should have expected him to try to get away.”

  Telemain walked over to the spot where the wizard had been standing. “Interesting,” he muttered. “Very interesting—ah!” He bent over, and when he straightened up he was holding the wizard’s staff in one hand.

  “Here’s your bucket,” Jack said from the door of the house. “What’s all this about wizards?”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Cimorene said. “He’s gone.”

  “Then you won’t be needing this?” Jack said, lifting the bucket.

  “Don’t throw it out,” Mendanbar said hastily. “We might want it later. In case he comes back.”

  “I seriously doubt that it is necessary to worry about his return,” Telemain said as he rejoined them. “Wizards depend a good deal upon their staffs. Without his, our recent visitor is unlikely to be much of a problem.” He sounded very satisfied with himself, and his fingers stroked the staff lightly as he spoke.

  “Then he’s sure to come back for it,” Cimorene pointed out.

  “Yes, but how long will it take him to get here?” Telemain responded. “I assure you, he didn’t transport himself anywhere close by. We’ll be long gone by the time he makes his way back.”

  “We?” said Mendanbar.

  “Of course.” Telemain smiled. “I’ve been trying to get my hands on one of these”—he lifted the wizard’s staff—“for years. You’ve managed to get hold of one in a few seconds. You don’t think I’m going to miss an opportunity like this, do you?”

  “If that’s all you want, keep it,” Mendanbar said. “I haven’t any use for a wizard’s staff.”

  “Neither have I,” Cimorene agreed.

  Telemain bowed. “Thank you both.” He paused. “I would still like to join you, if you are willing. There are other matters I find intriguing about you.”

  Completely at sea, Mendanbar stared at the magician.

  Cimorene sighed. “Mendanbar, your sword is at it again, worse than ever. I’ll bet that’s what he means.”

  “Oh.” Mendanbar put his sword back in its sheath and inspected Telemain for a moment. The magician was still something of a puzzle, but he had been very helpful so far. And it was clear from the wizard’s behavior that magicians and wizards did not get along, which was another point in Telemain’s favor. “I can’t promise I’ll let you study my sword, but it’s all right with me if you come along.” He glanced at Cimorene.

  “It’s fine with me, too,” Cimorene said. “But you’d better hear the whole story before you make up your mind. You might not want to come with us after all.”

  “If you’re all done out here, come in and eat,” Jack said. “Supper’s ready, and if you’re sure there won’t be any more wizards, I’ll just use this water for the dishes afterward.”

  13

  In Which They Return to the Enchanted Forest at Last

  THEY TOLD TELEMAIN AND JACK the whole story over dinner and discussed it late into the night. Telemain was intrigued by their description of Kazul’s imprisonment.

  “You say these wizards have an enchantment capable of confining a dragon?” he said eagerly. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s certainly what it looked like,” Cimorene said, pouring herself a cup of hot chocolate. The stew and the dinner dishes had long since been cleared away and were piled in the bucket of soapy water waiting for someone to have the time or the inclination to wash them.

  Mendanbar wondered idly whether a bucket of soapy water plus lemon juice plus dishes would be as good for melting a wizard as one without dishes, and what effect the dishes would have on the process. Being melted was probably not very comfortable, but being melted while cups and plates and forks were falling on your head was likely to be even less so.

  “I knew I was right to join you,” Telemain said, smiling. “I might not have heard about this enchantment at all, if I hadn’t. It sounds like a simple modulation of the upper frequencies of a standard reptilian restraint spell, but on an enormously increased scale. I wonder where they’re getting the power.”

  “I don’t care how they did it,” Cimorene snapped. “I care about getting Kazul out of it as soon as possible.”

  “A trivial detail, once the construction of the spell is properly understood,” Telemain said confidently.

  “Trivial?” Mendanbar said. “Aren’t you forgetting about the wizards? I don’t think they’ll just let us walk in and take their spell apart.”

  “And goodness knows what they’ll do to Kazul in the meantime,” Cimorene muttered.

  “Nonsense,” Telemain said. “I comprehend your concern, but it is highly unlikely that this episode will prove more than a minor inconvenience so far as your dragon friend is concerned.”

  Cimorene did not look convinced, so Telemain launched into a lecture on the political implications of the situation, the main point of which was that it would be stupid for the Society of Wizards to hurt Kazul and that wizards were not stupid. Privately, Mendanbar thought that it had been stupid of the wizards to kidnap Kazul in the first place, but saying so would not reassure Cimorene, so he kept quiet.

  After a while, Telemain finished his lecture. He did not wait for Cimorene to respond, but turned at once to Mendanbar and asked about his sword. Like Cimorene, the magician could feel the sword spilling magic “like a beacon on a mountaintop,” and he was amazed—and completely fascinated—to learn that Mendanbar noticed nothing unusual.

  “I don’t under
stand why I didn’t spot it at once,” Telemain said, shaking his head over his cup of chocolate (which looked to Mendanbar as if it had gone cold during his long speech about the relative intelligence of wizards).

  “You mean when you met us?” Cimorene said. “Mendanbar’s sword wasn’t spraying magic all over right then. He’d just used up most of it on the rock snakes.”

  “It seems to recover very quickly,” Telemain said with a sidelong look at the sword. “Is it always like this?”

  “How should I know?” Mendanbar said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t tell when it’s doing it, much less when it isn’t.”

  “Yes, you said that before.” Telemain sipped at his chocolate, staring absently into space. “I shall have to think about this for a while,” he said at last, as though making a profound announcement. “It’s a pity you haven’t time to visit my tower for a few tests—”

  “Absolutely not!” Mendanbar interrupted.

  “We have to rescue Kazul from the wizards,” Cimorene put in quickly. “Before this business turns into more than a minor inconvenience. Before those wizards decide she’s too much trouble to keep around and feed her some dragonsbane.”

  Telemain considered this for a moment. “An excellent idea,” he said at last with evident sincerity.

  Mendanbar and Cimorene stared at him.

  “If the Society of Wizards poisons the King of the Dragons, there is certain to be a war,” Telemain explained. “Wars are very distracting. I don’t like being distracted; it interferes with my work. So it would be a very good thing if we made sure there was no war.”

  “I’m so glad you think so,” Cimorene said. Her voice sounded a little strange.

  The discussion continued for a little longer, but it was getting late and everyone was tired. Finally, Jack suggested that they go to bed.

  “It’s all very well for you adventurous types to sit around jawing until past midnight, but some people have work to do in the morning,” he said pointedly.

  “I am not an ‘adventurous type,’” Telemain said with dignity. “I am in research.”