Calling on Dragons by Patricia C. Wrede Page B

ring.”
    Â 
    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 in 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.
    â€œEee-augh!” Killer brayed in terror. “A dragon!”
    â€œOh, good,” Morwen said at the same moment. “That will save some time.”
    â€œGood?” Killer seemed to be trying to hide behind Telemain and to watch the dragon at the same time. “A
dragon
is good?”
    â€œNot
a
dragon, you idiot,” said Scorn. “That’s Kazul, the
King
of the Dragons.”
    Killer edged away. “Does he eat rabbits? Or donkeys?”
    â€œ
She
prefers cherries jubilee,” Jasper said.
    â€œShe?” Killer looked thoroughly confused, as well as alarmed. “But—the ‘King of the Dragons’?”
    â€œâ€˜King of the Dragons’ is the name of a job,” Jasper said. “It has nothing to do with gender.”
    â€œDragons are very sensible about things like that,” Fiddlesticks put in, nodding. “Almost as sensible as me. But they don’t like fish.”
    â€œI’d be happier if they didn’t like donkeys.”
    â€œDon’t worry about King Kazul,” Morwen said to Killer. “She doesn’t eat friends of friends.”
    â€œNot 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
    A S 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.
    â€œHello, Willin,” Morwen said. “We need to see King Mendanbar and Queen Cimorene right away.”
    â€œIn regard to what?” the elf asked.
    â€œTechnical difficulties,” Telemain said. “We have discovered a possible disruption in the obstructive enchantment fabricated by King Mendanbar and myself, and—”
    â€œEr, yes, of course,” said Willin. “I’ll tell the King immediately. You needn’t give me the details.”
    Telemain caught Morwen’s eye and winked. Morwen suppressed a smile and said, “And while we’re waiting, Killer’s hungry.” She nodded at the donkey. “If your kitchen could put something together that would suit him . . .”
    â€œCertainly,” Willin said. “Just trot around back, er, Killer, and the cook will take care of you.” He waved toward the left, where Kazul was sleeping.
    â€œI’m not
that
hungry!” Killer said.
    â€œGo around the other way, then,” Morwen told him. “It doesn’t really matter. Just
go.
”
    â€œI’ll show him!” Fiddlesticks bounded across to Killer. “The kitchen is this way. They have cream, and butter, and fish, and . . .” His voice faded as they rounded the crooked tower