Talking to Dragons by Patricia C. Wrede Page B

pot of water. Shiara was behind me, with one hand on my right arm just above the dried vine. It took a while before Morwen was satisfied with our positions, but finally she stepped back. “Very good. Stay just like that until I’m finished, please.”
    She reached inside one of her sleeves and brought out a silver knife. She dipped the knife in the pot of water, then began muttering over the plants she was holding. Immediately, all the cats jumped down onto the floor and formed a half-circle around the stove, with Morwen and Shiara and me in the middle. They just sat there with their eyes glowing and only the tips of their tails moving, in tiny twitches. Suddenly, there was a sizzling noise from my right. The water was boiling.
    Morwen gave a shout. Then she held the plants high over her head and said loudly,
    Â 
    â€œBy the darkness of the stone’s heart,
    By the silence of the sea’s tears,
    By the whisper of the sky’s breath,
    By the dawning of the star’s flame,
    Do as I will thee!”
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    Just as she finished she threw the plants into the boiling water.
    A cloud of steam puffed out of the pot, smelling of herbs and magic and gingerbread, and I sneezed. The steam spread out around me and got thicker. It smelled more and more like herbs and magic and less and less like gingerbread. My right arm started to ache, and my left arm started to tingle. The ache got stronger, but it stayed where it was; the tingle spread. In another second or two I was tingling all over, except for the arm that was aching.
    By now the steam was so thick I couldn’t see anything, but I could still feel Shiara’s hand and the vine Morwen had tied around my arm. For what seemed like a long time, nothing else happened. Then one of the cats yowled. I saw Morwen’s hand, the one holding the silver knife, come out of the mist.
    â€œIn the King’s name!” Morwen’s voice said, and the knife cut the vine from my arm and pulled it away.
    My sword flashed once, very brightly. Most of the steam settled on my right arm and turned black. The ache started to creep upward, and something that felt like lightning or wind ran up my left arm and down my right one. I heard Shiara gasp. The black steam stuff dropped off my arm into a slimy blob on the floor. My right arm stopped hurting, and my other arm stopped tingling, and everything felt normal again. I let my breath out and looked around.
    Morwen was looking in my direction with an expression of extreme distaste. “That,” she said, “was an exceptionally nasty wizard. He deserves what’s coming to him.”
    â€œWhat’s coming to him?” Shiara asked hopefully.
    â€œI don’t know, but he certainly deserves it,” Morwen said. “Anyone who would keep a spell like that in a staff . . .” She shook her head and looked down. “I do hope it doesn’t disagree with the cats.”
    I followed her gaze. The cats had formed a small mob and were playing with something I’d rather not describe in detail. I looked up again very quickly and took a step backward. I bumped into Shiara and remembered that Morwen had said not to move until she was finished. “I’m sorry,” I said to both of them.
    â€œIt’s quite all right. You can sit down again now,” Morwen said. “And if you don’t want to put your sword in your sheath, you can lean it against the wall. You won’t need it for the time being.”
    I followed Morwen’s instructions and sat down at the table again. I didn’t realize until I reached for the gingerbread that although my right hand felt better it didn’t
look
any better. I didn’t have time to worry about it, though, because Morwen was already standing by my chair with some oily-looking salve and bandages. She worked on my hand while I ate gingerbread and cider left-handed. We finished about the same time, and I thanked her.
    â€œYou’re