Calling on Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins - Страница 18

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Killer's nose twitched. "Does that mean we'll get dinner soon? Because I'm hungry."

"Again? All those layers of spells must be affecting your metabolism," Morwen said. "Or didn't Cimorene's cook feed you properly before you left the castle?"

"Oh, he had plenty to eat," Scorn said. "He was gorging himself when we left, and he had nearly half an hour after that before Telemain brought him and the others to the house. You should have seen him, Morwen. He's worse than Fiddlesticks with a plate of fish."

"It's not my fault," Killer said in a plaintive tone. "I can't help being hungry. I just am."

"Well, we can't get anything for you to eat until after we've set up camp," Morwen said. "Telemain, is there a source of water around anywhere?"

Telemain directed her to a small pool a short distance away. As Morwen set off, Cimorene fell into step beside her. Once they were too far from the others for anyone to hear, Cimorene said, "I'm sorry I wasn't more help with Telemain, Morwen. I was so worried about Mendanbar's sword that I didn't see how tired he was until he snapped at you. How did you convince him to stay here?"

"I told him you needed to rest."

"You told him I needed to-Morwen! I'm not sick. I'm going to have a baby, that's all. I feel fine. "Cimorene hesitated. "Well, mostly.

Sometimes in the mornings my stomach gets a little queasy. But that's not the point."

"No. The point is that Telemain needs rest." Morwen pushed aside a low-hanging branch and looked at Cimorene. "Do you really want an overtired magician transporting you? I let someone do that. Once."

"What happened?"

"I ended up forty leagues west of where I wanted to be, and I had an upset stomach for a week afterward. No one had a spare broomstick, so I had to fly home on a borrowed rake. All forty leagues. In the rain.

It's the only time in my life I've been airsick."

Cimorene shuddered. "I can see why you'd want to keep Telemain from overextending himself. I just wish you'd thought of some other way to do it."

Pushing through a sweep of long, prickly pine branches, they found the pool Telemain had described. Morwen pulled the collapsible bucket out of her sleeve and filled it, and they started back to the others.

Just before they reached the camp, Cimorene paused. "Morwen, how tired is Telemain?"

"He could probably do one more transport without any problems," Morwen admitted. "Two more are definitely out of the question. And if we land in the middle of a battle or on top of a troll's hill-" "I see."

Morwen nodded. "I prefer not to take chances."

"But a smaller spell wouldn't be a problem for him, would it?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Cimorene blushed slightly. "Well, I did promise I'd call Mendanbar whenever I could. And even if I'd had room for a full-sized magic mirror in my pack, I wouldn't have brought one because they're too breakable. I was hoping Telemain…"

"I understand." Morwen thought for a minute. "The hardest part of Telemain's magic-mirror spell is making it permanent. He shouldn't have any difficulty with a temporary speaking spell, especially if he has a chance to rest first. Ask him about it after dinner."

"I will," Cimorene said with a smile.

Cimorene's cook had provided plenty of food for the people and cats, so dinner for them was fairly straightforward. After some initial grumbling, Killer nibbled at low-hanging pine branches and even admitted that they didn't taste too bad, once he got used to them.

Since there was not enough of anything to make a dragon-sized meal, Kazul left to forage for herself.

As soon as she finished eating, Cimorene broached the subject of the speaking spell with Telemain. The magician frowned and patted his pockets.

"I believe I have the necessary materials," he said. "All I need is an object."

Waving at her pack, the various cups and containers Morwen had produced from her sleeves, and the half-empty water bucket, Cimorene said, "Aren't there plenty of things around?"

"No, I mean an object for the enchantment. Something with the correct reflective properties. To be compatible with the existing enchantment on the castle mirror, a provisional communications spell must employ the same similarities and reversals of congruence as the original.

Therefore-" "You need a mirror, right?" Cimorene guessed.

"No," Morwen said. "He needs something like a mirror. Something you can see your reflection in."

"Maybe if we polish the dishes?" Cimorene said, eyeing the dented metal dubiously.

The castle cook had sent along four of the oldest tin plates Morwen had ever seen. They were suitable for camping, but not, Morwen thought, for spell making.

"What about this?" Scorn said, circling the water bucket.

"Yes, that might do." Hastily, Morwen picked up the bucket, barely in time to keep Trouble from setting his paws on the rim to peer in and collapsing it. "What do you think, Telemain?"

"Between the metallic surfaces and the water, the reflective properties appear to be adequate," Telemain said after a moment's inspection. "As long as there is no previous enchantment, it should do."

"Does carrying it in my sleeve count?"

"Since the bucket is no longer inside the spell's sphere of influence, it should have no impact on the application of a transitory enchantment."

"What does he mean?" Killer asked.

"It doesn't count-as long as the bucket isn't in my sleeve when he tries to enchant it," Morwen said. "How long will the spell last, Telemain?"

"About a quarter of an hour." Telemain set the bucket in front of him and began removing things from his pockets. "It should return to its base state by dawn tomorrow."

Setting up the speaking spell did not take long. Morwen watched Telemain closely as he crouched over the bucket, for he still seemed unusually tired, but he had no difficulty in casting the enchantment.

"There," he said finally, sitting back on his heels. "You can go ahead now, Cimorene. Just don't move the bucket."

"All right, then," Cimorene said, though she looked as if she felt a little silly.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I would like to make a call."

The water in the bucket turned white. "Tell it who to find," Morwen said softly.

"I wish to speak to Mendanbar, the King of the Enchanted Forest," Cimorene said.

With a swish and a gurgling noise, the milky color cleared. "Who's there?" snarled the wooden gargoyle. "Nobody's home and they can't be bothered, so-oh, hello, Your Majesty."

"Hello. Mendanbar at home?" said Cimorene.

"Sure. Hey, King! There's somebody on the mirror you should talk to!" the gargoyle shouted.

"Tell him who it is," Cimorene commanded.

"Aw, you spoil all my fun," grumbled the gargoyle, but it yelled, "It's Queen Cimorene!"

An instant later, the picture in the water shifted rapidly, then steadied to show King Mendanbar. "Cimorene! Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," Cimorene said. "We're halfway to the Great Southern Desert-" "About three-fifths of the way, actually," said Telemain.

"-and we decided to stop for the night. How are things at home?"

"I caught a couple of wizards prowling around the forest right after you left," Mendanbar said. "You can tell Telemain that his wizard-melting spell works just fine."

"Kazul will be disappointed," Cimorene said. "We haven't seen any traces of wizards, and I think she's been hoping for a good fight."

"Well, tell her to be careful if you do run across them," Mendanbar said. "One of the ones I melted was carrying dragonsbane."

"Oh, dear. Maybe I should send Kazul home."

"You can try."

They both paused. In the brief silence, Morwen caught Telemain's eye and nodded toward the far side of the clearing. Telemain looked puzzled, then suddenly his expression changed and he rose hastily and joined her.

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