"It's not my fault," Killer said. "I'm supposed to be a rabbit."
Telemain looked startled, then chagrined.
"You forgot how long his ears are," Morwen said. "Never mind. The tracks I told you about are over here."
She led the way to the cluster of brown pencil-sized holes at the far side of the clover patch. When he saw them, Telemain immediately lost interest in the rest of his surroundings.
"Fascinating," he murmured. He pulled something that looked like a bright metal tube in a wire cage from one of his pockets and began twisting and pulling and unfolding. In less than two minutes, he held a small telescope attached to three long, spidery legs. He jabbed the legs into the moss and peered through the end of the telescope.
"Absolutely fascinating. The residual energy displays the characteristic spiral, but its concentration-" "Tell me about it when you decide what it is," Morwen said. She was in no mood for one of Telemain's long digressions into magical theory, even if she was one of the few people who actually understood most of what he said. Besides, listening only encouraged him.
Telemain peered through his telescope again, then pulled out several other peculiar instruments and poked at the holes. Finally he looked up.
"Where's the other one?"
"Other one?" Morwen said. Even when he was being simple, Telemain didn't seem to be able to make himself clear.
"The full-sized, er, splotch. I believe you said there was one?"
"Trouble found it." Leaving Killer to nibble disconsolately at the moss and the cats to wander as they pleased, Morwen led Telemain to the two-inch circle of brown moss. "There."
"This is really amazing. Look here, Morwen, along the perimeter.
There's no regeneration occurring at all. And-" "Yes, of course," Morwen interrupted. "But all I want to know is, is it wizards?"
"Oh, certainly. That's what I was saying," Telemain replied with maddening innocence. "And it looks as if they've figured out how to evade the enchantment the King and I worked out. You were quite right to call me."
"Quite right?" Scorn said with considerable indignation. "That self-centered, conceited idiot! Of course you were quite right.
Magicians, bah!"
Tail stiff with disapproval, she stalked off.
"Exactly," said Morwen. "Now, what was the bit about that enchantment of yours?"
"Of mine and the King's." Telemain was a stickler for accuracy, even when it meant sharing the credit for a major magical achievement. He pointed at the brown spot in front of him, then waved back toward the clover patch. "None of these should be here."
"Well, obviously. wizards aren't supposed to come into the Enchanted Forest any-" Morwen stopped short. "That isn't what you meant. Very well. Explain what you did mean, and none of your jargon. I've too much on my mind already without trying to unravel your sentences."
Telemain looked hurt. "I'm only trying to be precise."
"Right now I'll be quite content with fast and sloppy. Now, why shouldn't there be any dead patches in the moss?"
"Because the spell Mendanbar and I worked out should-should repair them as soon as they're made," Telemain said carefully. "As long as the spell is working, the absorptive properties of the wizard's staff should be balanced immediately by the recirculation of-" "Telemain!"
"I'm trying," Telemain said in a plaintive tone. "There just isn't any other way to say it."
"No?" Morwen thought for a minute. "How about this: When a wizard's staff sucks up magic from the forest, your spell sucks it back. And it works so fast that the moss shouldn't die this way."
"Or it should regenerate," Telemain said, nodding. "This has obviously not done either."
"Can you tell how they did it?"
"Not without an examination of the primary linkages." Telemain frowned down at the dead moss. "if something has damaged one of them, it might account-" A loud cat squall erupted from behind a nearby bush, followed by a high shriek. Morwen started forward, but before she had taken two steps, Fiddlesticks came trotting around the left side of the bush.
He held his head very high, and his tail was a long brown exclamation mark.
Dangling from his mouth by a bunched-up wad of blue-and-brown wizard's robes was a man about six inches tall.
5
In Which the Plot Thickens
Fiddlesticks halted just in front of Morwen's feet. The man he was carrying kicked, then tried to punch backward and overhead at the cat's nose.
Fortunately, he missed. Fiddlesticks growled and shook his head, and the man shrieked as he swung back and forth.
"How interesting," Telemain said. "Morwen, your cat appears to have captured a miniature wizard."
"So I see," Morwen said. "What did you do with his staff?"
"Mmmph hmmmph uff," said Fiddlesticks, and jabbed his tail back toward the bush.
"Good. Don't let him anywhere near it." Morwen turned and started for the clover patch.
"Where are you going?" Telemain said.
"To get the bucket," Morwen called over her shoulder. There was another high-pitched shriek from the wizard and a jumbled protest from Telemain, both of which she ignored. Having collected her bucket, she returned to find the wizard on his feet with Fiddlesticks standing guard.
Telemain sat cross-legged in front of them, holding something that looked like a silver watch with an orange dial and four hands. He kept looking from the watch to the wizard and back.
"Has he told you what they're up to yet?" Morwen said, setting the bucket down a little to one side, where it would be handy but out of the immediate way.
Telemain looked up, frowning. "I haven't asked. Do you realize that this is the first opportunity I have had to observe a wizard in situ?
Of course, the magical connections would be clearer if his staff were a little closer."
"You leave that staff where it is," Morwen said. "Fiddle, if either of them tries to go get it, stop them. I don't care how."
"You don't? That's easy, then." Fiddlesticks curled his lips back, showing most of his teeth. "Did I do good? Does this mean I can have fish for dinner?"
"It certainly does," Morwen said. "And possibly a bowl of cream as well. Where's Scorn?"
"With Jasper, watching the staff. Do they get fish, too?"
"Yes, if they want it." Morwen transferred her attention to the six-inch wizard. He had a sharp, angular face half-covered by an untidy brown beard, and he seemed a little young compared to most of the wizards Morwen had met. Not to mention short. "If it won't interfere with your observations, Telemain, I'd like to ask this fellow a few questions."
"Hmmm? Oh, not at all." Telemain did not even glance up.
"Good. Now, wizard, who are you and what are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?"
The wizard drew himself up to his full height, which brought his head about even with Fiddlesticks's nose. "I am Antorell, and if you know what is good for you, you will not meddle with me!" he said in a shrill voice.
"I might have known," Morwen said.
"What's that?" Telemain said, looking up. "Morwen, these readings are absurd. This fellow can't be very good."
Antorell's face turned bright red. Morwen smiled. "He isn't. This is Antorell, Telemain."
"Antorell, Antorell. Oh. The son of Head Wizard Zemenar?"
"That's right," Antorell said. "And you'll regret-" "Isn't he the one Cimorene keeps melting?" Telemain said. "And shouldn't he be larger?"
Antorell's face became downright purple. Curious about the change, Fiddlesticks leaned forward, and his whiskers brushed the side of Antorell's head. The wizard shrieked and jumped away, the cat pounced, and bits of moss flew in all directions. After a moment, the rapidly moving tangle resolved into Fiddlesticks crouched over the wizard. One front paw, with claws fully extended, rested on each of Antorell's shoulders. Antorell looked terrified.
"He's the one," Morwen said to Telemain. "Very good, Fiddle. You may back up now. I don't think he'll do that again."
"Fascina
ting," Telemain murmured, his eyes fixed on the cat. "Did you see the sparks, Morwen? He cast a basic warding-off spell, but it didn't affect the cat at all!"
Morwen frowned in concern. "Fiddlesticks?"
"Well, of course it didn't do anything to me." Fiddlesticks eased slowly off Antorell's chest and sat down very close beside him.
"Wizards don't know how to handle cats. I don't think they're very smart."
"Get that beast away from me!" Antorell cried as Fiddlesticks raised a paw and flexed his claws.
"See?" said Fiddlesticks, and began washing wizard germs out from between his toes.
"Calm down," Morwen told Antorell. "Fiddlesticks won't hurt you.
Unless I tell him to, of course. What are you doing in the Enchanted Forest?"
"I won't tell you." Antorell was plainly trying to sound defiant, but all he managed was sulky.
"Morwen?" Scorn wound her way around the far edge of the bush.
"How long are we going to have to watch this staff?. It's not doing anything, and Jasper wants to take a nap."
"I'll be there as soon as we finish with Antorell," Morwen said.
"What is it?" Telemain asked.
"Scorn wants the staff taken care of," Morwen told him. "Antorell-" "That presents no difficulty," Telemain said. "If you'll just fetch it here, Scorn, I'll do it for you."
Scorn gave him a long look. "Dogs fetch." She turned her back and lay down, her tail thrashing indignantly.
"That means 'no,' I take it," Telemain said with a sigh.
"It does. And I told you I didn't want the staff anywhere near the wizard," Morwen said.
"A proper spirit of scientific investigation-" "I'm more interested in self-preservation. Study the staff later.
Antorell-" "Ha!" said Antorell. "You are too late! Behold!"
With a flourish, he raised his right arm. As he did, he began to glow.
Fiddlesticks pulled his head back in surprise, and the glow began pulsing, first bright, then dim. After three pulses, Antorell started growing. He gained an inch on the next pulse, two on the one after that, and then he had grown to a foot in height.
"Bother," said Morwen, and grabbed for the bucket.
"Argelfraster," said Telemain, and pointed at Antorell.
"Eeeaugh!" said Antorell, his expression changing from sinister to shocked. He continued to glow and pulse, but he was no longer getting taller. A puddle of brown goo began to spread out from under his robe where his feet should have been. "No! Help! You can't do this to me!"
"Wow!" said Fiddlesticks. "Look at him go!"
Morwen nodded, but she kept the bucket of soapy water ready to throw, just in case. Antorell was now melting faster than he was growing. In another minute, all that was left were his robes and the puddle of goo sinking slowly into the moss. Fiddlesticks edged up to it and sniffed, then backed away rapidily.
"What was all that noise?" Killer said from behind Telemain. "Part of it sounded like another donkey."
"No, it was a wizard, though in this case it's much the same thing," Morwen said. "You needn't worry. He's gone now." She set her bucket down once more and gave Telemain a nod of approval.
"Congratulations.
It works."
"Yes, and did you notice the echo effect on the size-amplification spell?"
Telemain shook his head. "Remarkable. The theoretical ramifications-" "Are very interesting, I'm sure," Morwen said. "How permanent is this?" She waved at the gooey robes.
"Not very, I'm afraid," Telemain said. "He'll be back in a day or two."
Killer ambled over to the puddle. "Is this edible?" he asked in a doubtful tone.
"No!" said Morwen and Telemain together.
"What an awful idea," said Fiddlesticks, wrinkling his nose.
"What a mess," said Scorn.
"Don't touch it," Morwen said to Killer. "With two spells on you already, you shouldn't take any chances with wizard residuum."
"Oh," said Killer. He looked at the puddle again and sighed. "But I'm hungry. And thirsty. What do donkeys eat?"
"We'll take care of you in a minute or two," Morwen promised. "Finish up quickly, Telemain. We're leaving." Beach or no beach, King Mendanbar and Queen Cimorene had to be found and informed as soon as possible. Morwen started back toward the clover patch to collect her broomstick.
"Don't forget about that staff!" Scorn called after her.
Getting ready to leave didn't take long. Morwen picked up the staff-and Jasper, who was still guarding it-on her way back to Telemain. She noticed with interest that the staff was over three feet long and expanding slowly. Apparently the shrinking spell was wearing off it even without Antorell's help.
When she reached him, Telemain was just stowing the last of his shiny instruments back in one of his pockets. "Have we got everyone?" the magician asked.
"Everyone but the wizard," Scorn said. "And good riddance to him, I say."
"Yes," Morwen replied to both Telemain and Scorn. "If you'll take the staff, Telemain-" "I wouldn't do that,"Jasper said, jumping down from Morwen's shoulder.
Morwen paused, frowning, then saw Killer standing by the bucket of soapy water. He lowered his head and sniffed experimentally. "Why not? It smells nice."
"That's the lemon juice," Morwen said.
"It's got soap in it," Fiddlesticks said, lashing his tail. "It's for melting-" "There aren't any wizards around, and I'm thirsty." Before anyone could stop him Killer took a large slurp. His ears stood straight up and he reared back, shaking his head. "Blea-eea-eaugh! That tastes terrible."
"Fiddle warned you," said Scorn, with a visible lack of sympathy. "So did Jasper. Serves you right for not listening."
"What's it doing to his nose?" Fiddlesticks said, poking his own nose forward until he had to stand up and follow it. "Look at his nose, Morwen.
It's turning blue."
"Not just the nose." Jasper stared in fascination. "His whole face is changing color."
Killer gave a frightened snort and shook his head, sneezing soap bubbles in all directions. The color went on spreading. Soon his head and neck were a bright, clear sky blue that continued to inch up his ears, down his forelegs, and across his back.
"Help!" Killer cried. "Morwen, you're a witch. Make it stop"
"That would be inadvisable," Telemain said. He, too, was watching Killer's changing color with great interest. "The synergistic action of the original wizardly enchantment, which was itself an unstructured mechanical surplus and therefore liable to produce unpredictable side effects, and the secondary vegetation-based enchantment has rendered you vulnerable to the wizard liquefication fluid while also, fortunately, mitigating its effects."
"What?" said Killer.
"You've got a leftover bit of a wizard's spell on you and you don't know what all it may do. You're lucky you aren't melting, the way the wizard did," Scorn summarized.
"But just look at me!"
"I think it's an improvement," Morwen said. "Much better than being blotchy."
"Blue? Blue is better than blotchy?" The color had spread to Killer's hindquarters. Only his tail and his back legs were still a patchy white-and-brown.
"Not much," said Scorn.
"Settle it later," Morwen said. "We have to go. Telemain-" "Everyone still here? Good." Telemain raised a hand and made a circle in the air with his left forefinger. The wide silver band on his finger sparkled as he said in a low voice, "Convey this crowd On wind and cloud to the castle of the King By the power of this ring."
On the last word, Telemain clapped his hands together loudly. The trees melted and ran like soft wax on a hot stove. To her surprise, Morwen felt no sensation of movement. It was more as if she were standing still while everything around her shifted. As she nodded in approval, the blur flowed into a new shape and solidified.
They now stood on the paving stones of the castle courtyard, in the relatively narrow strip between the moat and the main door. A large dragon lay along the left side of the castle, basking i
n the sun. Her head, with the three stubby horns that proclaimed her a female, rested at the edge of the moat; most of her body was hidden by a tower with two staircases running around its outside. Her wings were partway open to catch the sun, and her green scales glittered, even where they were beginning to turn gray at the edges.
"Eee-augh!" Killer brayed in terror. "A dragon!" Oh, good," Morwen said at the same moment. "That will save some time."
"Good?" Killer seemed to be trying to hide behind Telemain and to watch the dragon at the same time. "A dragon is good?"
"Not a dragon, you idiot," said Scorn. "That's Kazul, the King of the Dragons."
Killer edged away. "Does he eat rabbits? Or donkeys?"
"She prefers cherries jubilee," Jasper said.
"She?" Killer looked thoroughly confused, as well as alarmed.
"But-the 'King of the Dragons'?"
"'King of the Dragons' is the name of a job," Jasper said. "It has nothing to do with gender."
"Dragons are very sensible about things like that," Fiddlesticks put in, nodding. "Almost as sensible as me. But they don't like fish."
"I'd be happier if they didn't like donkeys."
"Don't worry about King Kazul," Morwen said to Killer. "She doesn't eat friends of friends."
"Not even if she's hungry?" Killer's ears pricked forward nervously.
"She looks hungry to me."
Before Morwen could respond, the castle door creaked open. From the dark hallway inside, a voice called, "Madame Morwen! Magician Telemain! Welcome to the castle."
6
In Which the Plot Positively Curdles and the King of the Dragons Loses her Temper
As everyone turned to look, a three-foot elf wearing a gold lace collar and a crisp white shirt under a green velvet coat with gold buttons, white silk hose, and green shoes with chunky gold heels stepped into view in the doorway of the castle. "Welcome, all of you," he added, bowing low.
Calling on Dragons ef-3 Page 4