Calling on Dragons

by Patricia C. Wrede

  “I would prefer that you stay here,” Morwen said to Chaos. “It’s possible that Telemain will be bouncing us around with his transport spells, and he’s not used to dealing with a crowd. I’d worry about someone getting left behind.”

  “I’m staying,” Jasmine announced with an enormous yawn. “Telemain’s spells give me motion sickness.”

  “Moving gives you motion sickness,” Trouble muttered. “But the rest of us—”

  “Several of you should stay here in case the wizards show up while I’m gone,” Morwen pointed out.

  “I’ll be ready for them.” Fiddlesticks jumped onto the window ledge, where he balanced precariously, trying to look fierce and watchful without stepping on Jasmine. “I won’t let them in, even if they offer me some fish!”

  “You are an example to us all,” Miss Eliza said. It was impossible to tell from her tone whether or not she meant it to be sarcastic.

  “He’ll do better than Jasmine would,” Murgatroyd said. “She didn’t hear a thing when the mirror went off a bit ago.”

  Morwen frowned. “Someone called while I was out? Why didn’t you mention it?”

  “It was that fellow you don’t like,” Trouble said. “The one with the long name that you won’t turn into a toad.”

  “Arona Michaelear Grinogion Vamist?” Morwen said incredulously.

  “That’s him. He was annoyed when he didn’t see anyone but us.” Trouble’s tail whipped sideways, up, and then down onto the ground with a thump that showed what he thought of such lack of taste.

  “‘Us’? How many of you were in my study when he called?”

  Several of the cats shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

  “Oh, never mind,” Morwen said. “Vamist will have to wait; I haven’t time for him now. The fate of the Enchanted Forest is much more important than his idiotic notions.”

  “She sounds cranky,” Fiddlesticks said to Jasmine. “Do you think she’ll turn him into a toad after all?”

  Before anyone could answer, there was a loud thwump from the other side of the house. Fiddlesticks fell off the window ledge, and all of the rest of the cats except Jasmine jumped. The moment he landed, Trouble leapt for the back door with an angry growl, Chaos and Murgatroyd close behind.

  “Wait for me!” Fiddlesticks yelled, scrambling to his feet. “Wait—”

  “Morwen!” The shout came from the front yard as Morwen rose unhurriedly to her feet.

  “That sounds like Kazul,” Scorn said.

  “I suspect it is,” Morwen said. “Come along, Scorn. It’s time to leave.”

  9

  In Which the Expedition Leaves the Enchanted Forest at Last

  THE REST OF THE CATS, even Jasmine, followed Morwen and Scorn through the house and out onto the front porch. Kazul was standing in the center of the yard, along with Telemain and Killer. The donkey was still floating a good six inches above the ground, and he looked extremely uncomfortable. Standing beside him was Mendanbar, who was frowning ferociously, and Cimorene, who seemed to be trying to suppress a satisfied smile. With some dismay, Morwen noted that Cimorene now had a small pack slung over one shoulder and a slim sword belted to her waist.

  The cats flowed across the yard and converged on Kazul. Making little noises of satisfaction, all nine of the cats scrambled up the dragon’s sides. Their claws rasped against Kazul’s scales, making Cimorene wince, but neither they nor the dragon seemed to notice.

  Morwen looked at Telemain while the cats draped themselves contentedly all over Kazul. “I thought you were going to explain to him why he couldn’t come along,” she said, nodding sideways at Mendanbar.

  “I did,” Telemain said grumpily.

  “Then what is he doing here?”

  “Making trouble?” Scorn suggested from a comfortable perch on Kazul’s left shoulder.

  “He’d better not be,” Trouble said. “That’s my job.” He stretched himself full length along the lower part of Kazul’s neck, beside her spinal ridges, his tail and one front paw dangling lazily.

  “I’m taking you to the edge of the Enchanted Forest,” Mendanbar said. “I can do that much, at least, even if I can’t come with you. My magic will get you there faster than anything else, and you’ll be safe from most of the things that live in the forest if you’re with me.”

  “I see.” That explained Telemain’s bad mood: he hated having to admit that anyone’s magic was better than his, even the King’s. Morwen looked at Cimorene. “What about you?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Cimorene said. Mendanbar scowled fiercely as if he wanted to object, but before he could, Cimorene hurried on, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll have as much difficulty with the sword as I hope those blasted wizards are having right now.”

  Kazul snorted angrily, sending out a large ball of smoke, which made everyone in front of her cough. “If they aren’t having trouble now, they will soon.”

  Morwen gave Kazul a stern look over the tops of her glasses. “We are going on this expedition to recover Mendanbar’s sword, Kazul. We aren’t trying to destroy the entire Society of Wizards.”

  “Yet,” said Trouble.

  “You be quiet, or I’ll leave you at home,” Morwen said. “Now, would someone explain to me just why Cim­orene has to come along?”

  “Resonance and half-hard deflection mechanisms,” Telemain said. “Which are—”

  “—as clear as mud,” Kazul put in.

  Telemain looked annoyed. “I wasn’t talking to you. Morwen understands what I mean.”

  “Most of the time,” Morwen said.

  “I think he means that Mendanbar’s sword is painful to touch, unless you happen to belong to the King’s family,” Cimorene said. “And the longer it stays outside the forest, the harder it is to handle.”

  “The deflection increases exponentially,” Telemain said. “Rather like the magic leakage we discussed earlier, only the defense spells won’t slow down the deflection. By this time, it is undoubtedly past the transfer-resonance point.”

  “So the Society of Wizards can’t use the sword against us.” Morwen smiled grimly. “Good. I’d been wondering about that.”

  “Unfortunately, you can’t use it, either,” Cimorene said. “If Telemain is right about the timing—”

  “And I am.”

  “—then in a day or two nobody but a member of the Royal Family will be able to pick up the sword at all, much less carry it back to the Enchanted Forest. So since Mendanbar and I are the only members of the Royal Family right now, and since Mendanbar has to stay in the forest—”

  “—you have to come with us to retrieve the sword,” Morwen finished, raising an eyebrow. “I see.”

  Cimorene grinned. “Telemain explained it at least three times at the castle, and by the time he and Mendanbar finished arguing, I had a pretty good idea what he meant, even if he never did say it straight out.”

  “I did, too!” Telemain said indignantly. “Several times.”

  “Not so I understood.”

  “That is unfortunately not very surprising,” Morwen said. “Mendanbar, your sword is very inconven­iently designed.”

  “Don’t blame me,” Mendanbar said. “The blasted thing came with the kingdom.”

  “Hmph.” Morwen glanced around. “What about Killer? Why is he here?”

  Killer’s ears twitched anxiously forward. “They told me I was supposed to come. Is it all right?”

  “Once we’re away from the interference patterns of the Enchanted Forest, we should be able to trace the residual energy in the morphological field trap,” Telemain said. “At that point, a standard locus delimiter should—”

  “Telemain,” Kazul said in a warning tone.

  Morwen rolled her eyes. “He thinks we can use what’s left of the size-changing spell on Killer to find the wizards. But are you sure there’s enough, Telemain?”

  “I can’t tell until we’re out of the forest,” Telemain said. “The interference—” He glanced at Kazul and stop
ped.

  “I understand,” Morwen said. “But remember: bringing him along was your idea, so you’re responsible for keeping him out of trouble.”

  “And he’d better do a good job,” Trouble said. “If that overgrown blue idiot steps on my tail, he’ll wish he’d never left his rabbit hole.”

  “I already wish I’d never left my hole,” Killer said. “Rabbits aren’t supposed to have adventures. Our temperaments aren’t suited to them.”

  “Are you people going to stand around talking all day?” Kazul asked pointedly. “Or are we going wizard hunting?”

  “Sword hunting, Kazul, if you please,” Morwen said. “And I am ready to leave as soon as we decide which way we’re heading.”

  There was a pause while Cimorene, Telemain, and Mendanbar looked at each other. Scorn snickered. “Look at them! They didn’t even think of that.”

  “The central office of the Society of Wizards is in the Brown Forest,” Telemain said at last. “We should probably start there.”

  “Why waste time?” Kazul said. “The wizards wouldn’t be stupid enough to take Mendanbar’s sword to their main office.”

  “Antorell would,” Cimorene said.

  “Where is the Brown Forest?” Killer asked timidly. “It doesn’t sound very . . . appetizing.”

  “It’s worse than it sounds,” Telemain told him. “The Brown Forest is actually a corner of the Great Southern Desert.”

  Frowning, Cimorene looked at Telemain. “I always thought the Brown Forest was a dead woods. Are you sure it’s really a desert?”

  Telemain nodded. “I’ve been there.”

  “You have?” Kazul said. “Why?”

  “I wanted to learn wizardry, and the school the Society of Wizards runs is the only—”

  “You wanted to be a wizard?” Kazul said, outraged.

  “No,” Telemain said in the too-patient tone of someone who has had to give the same explanation far too many times. “I didn’t want to be a wizard. I wanted to study them. Their magical methods are unique, and magicians have been attempting to figure them out for a long, long time.”

  “And you thought they would tell you if you asked politely?” Cimorene said.

  Telemain shrugged. “It was worth a try. Anyway, I’ve been to the Brown Forest in the Great Southern Desert. I can probably even find the area where the central office of the Society of Wizards was when I was there.”

  “The area where it was?” Kazul said.

  “They move the building every couple of months,” Telemain explained. “I don’t know whether they do it to stay hard to find or whether they take turns practicing the relocation spell.”

  “No wonder they keep trying to steal other people’s magic,” Kazul muttered. “They waste what they’ve got moving buildings around.”

  “South, then?” Mendanbar said, glancing around. “Very well.” He raised a hand, then paused. “Morwen, are you taking all your cats along on this expedition?”

  “Phooey,” said Murgatroyd. “I was hoping no one would think of that.”

  “Just Trouble and Scorn,” Morwen said, giving the cats a stern look. “The rest of you should get down now.”

  Cats flowed along Kazul’s back and off her shoulders, until only Trouble and Scorn remained. When the whole crowd had reached the porch, Morwen nodded to Mendanbar. An instant later, gray mist rose, thickened to hide the house and forest, then faded to reveal a grove of slender young trees, none of which were much taller than Kazul. They looked odd and spindly, and it was a moment before Morwen realized that they only seemed scraggly by comparison to the giant oaks that surrounded her house.

  “This is as far as I can take you,” Mendanbar said unhappily. “The edge of the Enchanted Forest is over there.”

  “What about getting back in, once we leave?” Telemain asked.

  “If we recover the sword, getting into the forest won’t be a problem,” Cimorene said. “If we don’t—”

  “I’ll keep an eye on the border,” Mendanbar said. “As soon as I see you, I’ll come out to meet you.”

  “Don’t worry about watching for us,” Morwen said. “Worry about the wizards. We’ll call on the magic mirror when we’re ready to come back.”

  “And a couple of times before then, just to say hi,” Cimorene put in.

  Mendanbar looked at Cimorene for a long minute, then turned to Telemain. “Are you sure I can’t leave the Enchanted Forest?”

  “Not without destroying the energy loop that prevents the Society of Wizards from primary absorption inside the forest,” Telemain said.

  “Then can’t you transfer the spell’s focus from me to Cimorene?”

  “Hey!” said Cimorene, frowning. “Who says I want to be a focus?”

  “No,” Telemain said to Mendanbar. “The top links connect directly to the central—”

  “‘No’ is quite enough,” Morwen said. “Didn’t you go over all this at the castle?”

  “Yes,” Cimorene said. “Mendanbar is just trying to keep me out of this.” She stepped forward and drew Mendanbar a little away from the others. “Look, dear, there’s nothing you can . . .” Her voice faded to a murmur.

  “How far is the Brown Forest from here?” Morwen asked Telemain.

  “Three transports and a two-day walk.” Telemain looked at Kazul and frowned suddenly. His gaze traveled down the dragon’s neck, across her wings and massive back, and out along her tail. “Make that five transports and a two-day walk. I didn’t have quite so much to move last time.”

  “I could stay here,” Killer offered hopefully.

  “No, you couldn’t,” Morwen said. “Telemain needs you to find the wizards. Why a two-day walk, Telemain?”

  “Because the Society of Wizards has established an interference pattern around the Brown Forest.”

  “So?” said Scorn.

  “So that means it isn’t safe to use transportation spells anywhere near the forest,” Morwen said.

  “I bet you could break it,” Trouble said. “Wizards are wimps.”

  “Maybe,” Morwen said. “And maybe you would end up with Killer’s ears and Scorn’s tail. Even simple interference patterns are tricky, and this one has the whole Society of Wizards behind it.”

  “Committees never do a good job,” Scorn said, but she did not pursue the issue.

  “Are you sure you need the donkey?” Kazul asked. “Because I think I can carry everyone else for at least a little way, and that would cut down on the travel time.”

  Killer’s ears pricked up, then drooped as Telemain shook his head. “Without Killer we’d have to hunt for the Society of Wizards’ building. We’d probably lose more time than we gained.”

  Kazul shook her head irritably. “Well, if you human people didn’t waste so much time arguing, we’d—oh, good, Cimorene’s finished.”

  Turning, Morwen saw Mendanbar and Cimorene coming toward them. Mendanbar’s expression was even more unhappy than before, and Cimorene looked equally sober. “Ready to go?” she asked as they reached the group.

  “Whenever you are,” Telemain replied.

  “Cimorene . . . ,” said Mendanbar.

  “Don’t start,” Cimorene said in a gentle tone. “One of us has to go, and you can’t.”

  “If Telemain and Morwen weren’t with you, I’d say let the wizards have the blasted sword,” Mendanbar muttered. “It isn’t worth the risk.”

  “Telemain and Morwen?” Kazul muttered. “What am I, diced troll food?”

  Cimorene kissed Mendanbar’s nose. “You’d say ‘let the wizards have the sword,’ but you wouldn’t mean it. Don’t worry, I’ll be all right.” She turned to Morwen, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Come on, let’s go before he thinks of another objection.”

  Morwen nodded and started off. The edge of the Enchanted Forest was only a few yards away, clearly visible as a sharp line where the bright green moss stopped and ordinary grass began. At the border, Morwen waited a moment for everyone to line up, then they all crossed a
t more or less the same time. Telemain had them walk several yards, to get away from the “field influences,” before he was satisfied that his transportation spell would work properly. Then, frowning in concentration, he made a circling gesture and muttered under his breath. The trees melted and shifted, then solidified into an open field.

  “One down, four to go,” said Telemain.

  10

  In Which Telemain Works Very Hard

  TELEMAIN HAD TO STOP AND REST for a while after the second transportation spell, and after the third he looked so pale that Morwen said, “We don’t have to go on immediately, you know. We’ve got at least one more day, and probably two, before the sword reaches the critical point.”

  “It is getting late.” Telemain puffed as if he had been running hard for a long time. “Still, I’m quite capable of casting another spell or two.”

  Cimorene glanced at the tall pines that surrounded them and dug an experimental toe into the spongy accumulation of needles underfoot. “If you’re sure it won’t be too much—”

  “We’re going to have to spend the night somewhere, and this looks like as good a place as any,” Morwen broke in quickly. “Better than some.”

  “Boring,” said Trouble. “It looks boring. Jasmine would love it. Let’s try for somewhere more interesting.”

  Kazul coiled her tail loosely around the base of one of the trees and stretched herself out on the ground. “It’s comfortable, and there’s plenty of room.”

  “I thought you were in a hurry,” Telemain said irritably. “Do you want to find Mendanbar’s sword or not?”

  “If you wear yourself out doing transports, you won’t be able to do the locating spell,” Morwen said as Cimorene opened her mouth to speak.

  “I’m not worn out!”

  Cimorene closed her mouth and gave Telemain a long, thoughtful look.

  Good, thought Morwen. Now if I can just get Telemain to agree to stop transporting before he falls over . . . “If we go on, where will we land next?”

  “I’m not sure,” Telemain admitted. “Normally, I transfer from here straight to the edge of the Great Southern Desert, but the interval is incompatible with the number of people and the mass I’m transporting on this occasion. Given the ratios, I would approximate a landing site at three-fifths of the normal distance.”