Calling on Dragons (11 page)

“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 at 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.

T
ELEMAIN 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.”

“Do you know what we'd find there?” Morwen asked, ignoring Cimorene's puzzled expression.

“No.”

“Then we're better off here,” Morwen said in a tone intended to discourage further discussion. “It looks comfortable and quiet, and the next stop might not be either.” She stepped closer to Telemain and murmured, “And we should be careful not to let Cimorene get too tired.”

“Oh!” Telemain sighed in relief. “Of course. Very well, we'll camp here, and go on in the morning.”

Cimorene glanced at Morwen suspiciously, but all she said was, “That's settled, then. Why don't you rest for a few minutes while we set things up?”

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-size 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 straight-forward. 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-size 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.