Searching for Dragons Read online

  Near the end of the meal, Cimorene leaned over and whispered, “Don’t take any dessert.”

  “Why not?” Mendanbar asked.

  “Ballimore’s using her Cauldron of Plenty,” Cim­orene said, “and it doesn’t do desserts very well. So unless you like burned mint custard or sour-cream-and-onion ice cream . . .”

  “I see,” Mendanbar said quickly. “Then it’s a good thing I couldn’t eat another bite even if I wanted to.”

  When dinner was over, Cimorene brought up the question of the magic carpet. Ballimore nodded at once.

  “Of course you can borrow a carpet, Cimorene dear. I’ll just take a look around and see what we have.”

  “You won’t find much,” her husband said, and sneezed loudly. “That last Englishman you let in took most of them. You should have let me find him and grind his bones, like I’m supposed to.”

  “Nonsense,” said Ballimore, frowning at her husband. “We can afford a few cheap magic harps and a coin or two. I keep the good silver and Mother’s jewelry in the top cupboard, where they can’t reach it. Besides, they’re always such nice boys.”

  “Huh,” said Dobbilan. “Beggars and thieves, if you ask me, and boring at that.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mendanbar asked curiously.

  “They always do the same thing—come in, ask for a meal, hide, and then run off with a harp or a bag full of money the minute I fall asleep,” Dobbilan said. “And they’re always named Jack. Always. We’ve lived in this castle for twenty years, and every three months, regular as clockwork, one of those boys shows up, and there’s never been a Tom, Dick, or Harry among ’em. Just Jacks. The English have no imagination.”

  “About the carpet,” Cimorene reminded him.

  “Oh, that. Well, the last Jack wasn’t musical, and he cleaned us out of magic carpets instead of harps.” Dobbilan sneezed again and began to cough.

  “Bed for you, dear,” Ballimore said firmly and shooed her husband out of the room. She followed him closely, muttering to herself about cough syrup and vaporizers and hot tea with lemon and honey. Mendanbar and Cimorene looked at each other.

  “Is there anywhere else we can borrow a carpet?” Mendanbar asked.

  “Not that I know of,” Cimorene said with a worried frown. “We’ll just have to walk. Drat. It’ll take days.”

  “We could go back to the Enchanted Forest and—”

  “There,” said Ballimore, coming briskly into the room and cutting Mendanbar off in mid-sentence. “He’ll be much better in the morning. I’m afraid he’s right about the carpets, Cimorene dear, but I’ll just have a look around and see if there isn’t something stuck off in a corner somewhere. I can’t believe we’re completely out.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Cimorene said. “We’ll manage somehow.”

  “Nonsense, dear,” Ballimore said in the same tone she used to her husband. “It will be quite an adventure, seeing what’s stuck off in corners and so on. I haven’t been in some of the storage rooms in years.”

  It was clear that nothing they could say would shake her resolve, and after a token protest, they gave in. Ballimore showed them to a pair of comfortably furnished rooms and left them for the night. Mendanbar did not object, even though it was still fairly early. The long walk from the dragon’s cave had been very tiring. He lay down on the bed and fell asleep at once.

  Breakfast next morning was cinnamon-flavored porridge, milk, and toast with blueberry jam. Mendanbar found it waiting on the high table in the central hall when he left his room to look for his hosts. There was no one else around, but the giant-sized dishes and crumbs at either end of the table showed that Ballimore and Dobbilan had already eaten. Mendanbar climbed the stairs to his seat and began dishing up the porridge. Before he had finished filling his bowl, Cimorene walked into the room, peering around for the giants.

  “Good morning,” Mendanbar called. “Madame Ballimore and her husband appear to have been and gone, but they’ve left an excellent breakfast. Would you care to join me?”

  “I’d be delighted,” Cimorene called back, and climbed the stairs to join him. “I had no idea giants were such early risers,” she said as she sat down in the second chair. “Where do you suppose they’ve gone?”

  “Gone?” said Ballimore’s voice from the hallway at the end of the room. “Dear, dear, I thought sure I’d left enough porridge for the pair of you, but it won’t take a minute to make up some more.”

  “There’s plenty of breakfast,” Mendanbar said quickly. “We were talking about you and Dobbilan.”

  “But he was supposed to wait for you,” Ballimore said, emerging from the hallway. She inspected the room over the top of the large bundle she carried, then shook her head. “Isn’t that just like a man? Cimorene dear, I’ve found just the thing for you. I knew there would be something upstairs, no matter what Dobbilan said. Are you quite certain you have enough porridge?”

  “Quite certain,” Cimorene said. “What—”

  “Ballimore! Ballimore, where’s the inkwell?” Dobbilan’s voice echoed down the corridor, interrupting Cim­orene in mid-sentence. “Where are you? Why can’t I find anything around here when I want it?”

  “Because you never look in the right place, dear,” Ballimore called. “The inkwell is in the kitchen next to the grocery list, where it’s been for the past six months, and I’m in the dining room. Which is where you’d be if you’d done what I asked you to, instead of wandering off in all directions.”

  “I didn’t wander off,” Dobbilan objected, sticking his head into the room. “I went to get some paper and ink so I could write a letter. Oh, good morning, Princess, King. I didn’t see you.”

  “You were supposed to see them,” Ballimore said, exasperated. “You were supposed to be here when—oh, never mind.”

  “Well, if you’re done scolding, could you find me that inkwell?”

  Ballimore shook her head, set her bundle down on a chair, and went off to deal with her erring husband. Mendanbar looked at Cimorene, and they both burst out laughing at the same time.

  “Oh, dear,” said Cimorene when she got her breath back. “I hope they didn’t hear.”

  “Are they always like this?” Mendanbar asked.

  “I don’t know,” Cimorene admitted. “This is the first time I’ve been here. Kazul has always been the one who comes to talk or borrow things.” The thought wiped the smile from her face. “I hope she’s safe.”

  “You’d know if she wasn’t,” Mendanbar said, hoping he was right. “Being King of the Dragons is a little like being King of the Enchanted Forest; if anything really drastic happens to you, everybody knows.”

  “I suppose so,” Cimorene said. “And I know perfectly well that she can take care of herself, but I’ll still feel a lot better when we find out where she is.”

  There wasn’t much Mendanbar could say to that. They ate in silence for a few minutes and were just finishing up when Ballimore and Dobbilan returned. Dobbilan was carrying several sheets of white paper and a pen made of a feather as long as Mendanbar’s arm. Ballimore held an inkwell the size of a sink. The giantess cleared the dishes away from the far end of the table and set the inkwell gently in place, then steered her husband to the chair. When she had him settled, she picked up the bundle she had brought in earlier.

  “I’ll just take this outside and shake the dust out,” she told Cimorene. “You and your young man can come along as soon as you’ve finished eating. Don’t rush.”

  “How do you spell ‘resignation’?” Dobbilan asked, nibbling on the end of his feather pen.

  Mendanbar spelled it for him as Ballimore bustled out the door. He and Cimorene finished their breakfasts with only an occasional interruption from Dobbilan. Leaving the giant mumbling over his letter and chewing on the tattered end of his pen, they went out to see what Ballimore had found.

  “There you are,” Ballimore said as they came into the courtyard. “I’ve gotten most of the dust out, and it’s ready to
go. What do you think?”

  She stepped back and Mendanbar got his first good look at the carpet. It was enormous, with a three-foot fringe on all four sides. In places it looked rather worn, and there was a hole the size of a teacup in one corner. The background was a rich cream color, dotted with teddy bears a foot long. Pink teddy bears. Bright pink.

  “It’s certainly large enough,” Mendanbar said at last.

  “Are you sure it will fly?” Cimorene asked, looking dubiously at the hole.

  “Oh, yes,” Ballimore reassured her. “It’s the very best quality, but we haven’t used it in years because of the pattern.” She gestured at the teddy bears. “Dobbilan thought they just didn’t look right in a giant’s castle.”

  “I think I agree with him,” Mendanbar said under his breath, eyeing the pink teddy bears with dislike. “No wonder that Jack fellow didn’t take it.”

  “As long as it flies, I don’t care what it looks like,” Cimorene declared. “Thank you so much, Ballimore. I’ll make sure you get it back as soon as we’re through with it.”

  “There’s no rush,” Ballimore said. “It’ll just go back in the attic.”

  “How does it work?” Mendanbar asked.

  “I couldn’t find the instruction manual, but it’s perfectly simple,” Ballimore told him. “All magic carpets are the same. You sit in the middle and say, ‘Up, up, up and away’ to make it take off, and you steer by leaning in the direction you want to go.”

  “What about stopping?”

  Ballimore frowned in concentration. “I believe you’re supposed to say ‘Whoa,’ but ‘Cut it out, carpet’ works just as well. I’m sorry I can’t be more definite. It’s been a long time.”

  “Right.” Mendanbar looked at Cimorene. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Cimorene hesitated, then nodded firmly. “We’ll manage. If I could think of some other way of getting to the north end of the mountains quickly, I would. Come on.” She stepped onto the carpet, and plopped down in the center.

  With some misgiving, Mendanbar sat next to her.

  “Oh, heavens, I nearly forgot!” Ballimore said suddenly. “Stay right there, Cimorene dear. I’ll be back in a flash.”

  “Now what?” Mendanbar asked as the giantess hurried into the castle.

  “Maybe she remembered where the instruction manual is,” Cimorene said.

  “Somehow I doubt it,” Mendanbar said.

  A moment later, Ballimore came hurrying out again, carrying a large bag. “I packed you a bit of lunch,” she explained, handing Cimorene the package. “Goodness knows what you’ll find out there in the mountains.”

  Cimorene thanked Ballimore again and set the bag between herself and Mendanbar, then said, “All right, carpet: up, up, up and away!”

  The carpet shuddered, shifted and rose slowly into the air. Smiling broadly, Cimorene waved at Ballimore, then leaned forward. The carpet shivered again and began to move. It sailed up out of the castle and into the sky over the mountains, gathering speed as it went.

  9

  In Which They Discover the Perils of Borrowed Equipment

  AT FIRST, THE MAGIC CARPET RIDE WAS THOROUGHLY ENJOYABLE. The air was crisp and cool, and there was no noise at all except their own voices. The view was amazing, even better than looking down from a mountain. The Mountains of Morning stood in crooked, gray-blue rows below, each crack and boulder outlined in sharp black shadow. Tiny figures moved across the rocks and through the strips of greenery at the bottoms of the mountains: sheep and mountain goats and adventurous knights. Every now and then Mendanbar caught a glimpse of the lush trees of the Enchanted Forest between the peaks.

  “Stop craning your neck like that,” Cimorene said. “You’re confusing the carpet.”

  “Sorry.” Mendanbar sneaked a last look and sighed as the patch of green disappeared behind a rocky slope. How was Willin getting along without him?

  “Mendanbar, is your sword slipping?” Cimorene said. “I thought I felt something for a minute there. Is it coming out of that sheath?”

  “No,” Mendanbar replied, checking it. “It’s fine. And I haven’t touched it. Are you sure it was the sword?”

  “No,” Cimorene admitted. “Maybe we flew over something magical and that’s what I felt. It’s gone now.”

  “Good,” said Mendanbar. “Are you—”

  The carpet gave a sudden lurch sideways, then dropped three feet. “Mendanbar!” Cimorene cried. “I told you to stop that!”

  “It wasn’t me!” Mendanbar protested, trying to find something to hang on to.

  “Well, it wasn’t me, and there’s only the two of us up here,” Cimorene shouted.

  The carpet rippled alarmingly, then resumed its peaceful progress. Cautiously, Mendanbar turned his head to look at Cimorene. Wisps of black hair had come loose from her braids to blow wildly across her face. It made her look particularly lovely, even though she was scowling at him. Mendanbar blinked and pulled his thoughts together.

  “I really didn’t do anything,” he said.

  “But—”

  The carpet wiggled and began to spin slowly. Mendanbar swallowed hard, wishing he had not eaten quite so much breakfast. He closed his eyes, then opened them again very quickly as the carpet bounced twice, paused, and started spinning twice as fast in the opposite direction.

  “Carpet!” Mendanbar shouted. “Cut it out!”

  The lurching and spinning stopped. The carpet hung motionless in midair for a long moment, then dropped like the bottom falling out of a cardboard box. Cimorene gasped, then said something that sounded like “Oof!” as the carpet froze once more, three feet lower than it had been. Mendanbar started to push himself up, then—without warning—the carpet dropped another three feet.

  This time, Mendanbar stayed flat on the teddy bears. Two seconds later, the carpet dropped again. And again. And again. Mendanbar lost track of the bumps and concentrated on keeping track of his stomach. Suddenly, the carpet spun around twice and took off in a steep, fast climb.

  “Whoa!” Cimorene cried. “Whoa, you stupid carpet, cut it out!”

  Again, the carpet froze. Then it dropped again, but this time, instead of bumping, it fell like a stone. Mendanbar got a glimpse of the ground drawing quickly closer, and then he had both hands on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t bother to pull it out of the sheath, he just yanked at the power it held and flung it around himself and Cimorene. Then he shoved with all his might.

  Their speed slowed abruptly. The carpet fell away beneath them, rippling angrily, and plopped down on a rocky depression at the foot of a mountain. Mendanbar and Cimorene drifted after it, landing softly in the carpet’s center. They lay there for a moment, catching their breath and collecting their wits.

  Finally, Mendanbar raised his head and looked warily around. They lay in the middle of a circle of pine trees. “I think we’ve arrived,” he said, sitting up.

  “Good,” Cimorene said shakily. She sat up, pushing tendrils of hair out of her face, and gave him a crooked smile. “I guess I should have asked Ballimore a few more questions about this carpet before we took it.”

  “Yes, well, it’s too late now.” Mendanbar rolled off the carpet and stood up. “How far have we come?”

  “A little over halfway, I think. Too far to walk back, not far enough to walk the rest of the way there.” She made a face at the teddy bears, which looked innocently back. “We may have to try the carpet again.”

  “We don’t have to try it right away, though,” Mendanbar pointed out. “There’s a house over there—you can see the roof through the trees. Maybe the owner can tell us exactly where we are and the shortest way to get where we’re going.”

  “All right,” Cimorene agreed, with a swiftness that made Mendanbar think she was no more eager to get back on the carpet than he was. “We’ll have to bring the carpet with us, though. If you leave magical things lying around, all sorts of dreadful things can happen.”

  Mendanbar had to admit that she w
as right, though he wasn’t happy about it. They set Ballimore’s lunch in the middle of the carpet, then rolled the rug around it, folding the fringe carefully to the inside. Then Cimorene took the front end and Mendanbar picked up the rear, and they started toward the house.

  Weaving through three rows of pine trees, they ducked under the low-hanging branches along the outer edge of the grove and emerged in front of the house. It looked, thought Mendanbar, as if it had been put together by the same person who had built his palace, except that instead of too many towers and staircases, this house had too many windows: square windows, round windows, wide windows, tall windows, skinny windows, diamond windows, tiny windows filled with milky glass, enormous picture windows, windows with stained glass pictures of ladies in sweeping robes and birds with gold feathers, open windows with curtains blowing out of them. The roof was made of red tile and skylights, and the chimney had a square block of clear glass in the front side. Even the door had a window in it, right in the middle at about waist height. With only two floors, there were hardly enough walls to hold all the windows, in spite of the way the building sprawled in all directions.

  As they drew near, Mendanbar felt a faint aura of power around the house, hanging in the air like mist. He was about to mention it to Cimorene, when he heard yells and shouts of laughter coming from behind the house. Suddenly a small blonde girl dashed around the corner and stopped short, staring. A slightly larger boy followed in hot pursuit and barely managed to stop in time to avoid a collision. The blonde child looked at him reproachfully, then turned toward the house and shrieked at the top of her voice, “Herman! Herman, there’s people.”