think.

I didn't get the chance. As soon as I turned, the dragon stuck its head over a couple of dwarves and said, 'I didn't know you were a lord.

Why didn't you tell me?'

'Because I'm not a lord!' I said. I think I sounded a little desperate, and I know I felt desperate. I didn't have the slightest idea what was going on, except that it had something to do with my sword. Everything seemed to have something to do with my sword. I was getting tired of it, and more than a little worried.

'Well, if you aren't a lord, why did they call you one?'

'Because he has the King's sword,' said a dwarf who was walking under the dragon's chin with a boulder more than half as big as he was. The dragon pulled its head back far enough to eye the dwarf, who ignored it and kept walking.

'I really wish you'd explain a little more,' I yelled after the dwarf, and then I thought of something. 'Why did you call me the Bearer of the Sword?'

'I didn't call you anything,' the dwarf said without stopping. 'That was Cottlestone.' He set the boulder down and headed back toward the pile of rocks, which was beginning to look smaller already.

'Excuse me,' I said loudly, in the general direction of the crowd of dwarves, 'but would one of you tell me which of you is Cottlestone? I'd like to talk to him; please.'

'Cottlestone!' shouted half a dozen voices.

For a minute I thought the roof was going to cave in again, but all that actually happened was that one of the dwarves stepped out of the crowd and bowed to me. He looked as if he really meant it, not as if he were just being polite.

'Don't do that,' I said.

'As you wish,' the dwarf said, bowing again. 'What do you want to know from me?'

'Why did you call me the Bearer of the Sword?'

Cottlestone looked surprised. 'It's obvious. When the Bearer of the Sword holds the King's sword, the earth obeys it. So when you held up the sword and the earth obeyed, we knew you were the Bearer of the Sword.'

'Oh.' I thought for a moment. 'Have you ever heard of the Holder of the Sword? Or the Wielder of the Sword?'

'Who?'

'Never mind,' I said. 'How does someone get to be the Bearer of the Sword?'

'No one knows,' Cottlestone said, looking at me curiously.

'Oh,' I said again. I was trying to think of something else to ask when there was a shout from the top of the caved-in section of the tunnel. Cottlestone bowed again. 'If you will excuse me, I think they've gotten through to the other side. I ought to go help. It's my job.'

'All right,' I said uncomfortably. Cottlestone turned away, and I watched him melt into the crowd of dwarves. I wasn't sure what I'd found out, except that I didn't like people bowing to me. I found myself hoping that the rest of the dwarves wouldn't imitate Cottlestone.

'Did he say they're almost finished?' asked Shiara from behind me.

'Wonderful! I can't wait to get out of here.'

I turned. Shiara was standing, holding Nightwitch in the crook of her left arm. Her right arm was covered from her fingers almost to her shoulder in something smooth and gray and shiny. She looked a little white, but that might have been the torch light. 'Well, what are you staring at?' she demanded.

'I wasn't staring,' I said. 'I was just checking to see if you were all right.'

Darlbrin stepped up beside Shiara and bowed. 'Not quite all right.

But not bad, not bad at all.'

'I wouldn't call a broken arm 'not bad,'' Shiara said sourly.

'Oh, I didn't mean that!' Darlbrin said hastily. 'I was referring to the mending.'

'I'm sure you did a very good job,' I told him. 'And I really appreciate it.'

'I suppose I do, too,' Shiara mumbled. 'Thanks.'

'It isn't really mended yet, you know,' Darlbrin said with a touch of anxiety. 'People aren't as easy to fix as ax handles. It'll be a month before you can take the sheath off.'

'Yes, I know. I've had a broken arm before.' Shiara scowled at the sheath.

'Then you're very welcome!' The dwarf beamed. 'Happy to be of service!'

Shiara snorted, but quietly. Darlbrin didn't notice. He bowed to each of us and went off to help the rest of the dwarves finish clearing the tunnel. I looked at Shiara. 'I didn't know you'd broken your arm before.'

'That's because I didn't tell you about it,' Shiara said. She looked at me for a minute, then sighed. 'I was stealing apples from the Prince's gardens and fell out of the tree, all right?'

'Oh. What prince, and why were you taking his apples?'

'The Prince of the Ruby Throne,' Shiara said after a minute. 'He had a house and garden just outside town, and he never picked any of the apples. He just left them to rot. And I was hungry. So I sneaked over the wall and climbed the tree, but there was a big snake in it, with wings. So I fell out of the tree and broke my arm, and the snake went away.'

'Shiara,' I said, and stopped. She obviously had no idea what she had almost done. I sighed and changed what I was going to say. 'Shiara, the Prince of the Ruby Throne raises magic apples. All kinds of people have been trying to steal them for years and years, but he's a very powerful sorcerer, and there are hundreds of spells protecting his gardens.'

'That must be why he was so upset,' Shiara said in a tone of sudden enlightenment. 'I'm pretty sure he was the one who told the Society of Wizards about me. I thought it was a lot of fuss to make about a few apples.'

I looked at her for a minute. 'I don't want to be nosy or anything, but I'd really appreciate knowing if there's anyone else who's mad at you.'

'I don't think so,' Shiara said, frowning.

'Good. I don't think I want any more people chasing us. Particularly people with powerful magic. It wouldn't be so bad if you could use your fire magic.'

'She can!' said the dragon, and Shiara and I both jumped and turned around. 'She burned the dragonsbane, and she can make her hair burn.'

'When did you see Shiara's hair burning?' I asked. The only time I'd ever seen Shiara's hair on fire was when she'd gotten mad at me right after we'd met, and the dragon hadn't been there then.

'Just a few minutes ago,' the dragon said. 'You were fighting that dessert thing, so you might not have noticed.'

I looked at Shiara, and she blushed. 'I was trying to do something to the quozzel. I thought it would work because it worked on the dragonsbane.'

'It worked on the dragonsbane,' I repeated slowly. 'And that first wizard, the one who made a water monster out of the stream-you did something to that monster, too. That's at least twice that you've made your fire magic work properly. Can you think of any others? Maybe we can figure out why it happens.'

'She used it at the invisible castle,' the dragon offered. 'The one where that other fire-witch lived.'

'I did not!' Shiara said. 'I didn't have time. We ran into the castle, and she came out, and bam! I was a statue.'

The dragon sat back, looking smug. 'You said you wanted to know what the castle was, and then you did. That's fire magic, isn't it?'

'I suppose it is,' Shiara said slowly.

'Then that's three,' I said. 'Can you think of any more? Before you came to the Enchanted Forest, for instance?'

Shiara frowned and was silent. 'No,' she said finally in a very positive tone. 'Those are the only times I've ever gotten my magic to do what I wanted it to, ever.'

'So it's only been happening since you came to the Enchanted Forest,' I said.

'And met you and got bitten by that stupid sword,' Shiara added, and stopped. We looked at each other for a minute.

Вы читаете Talking to Dragons
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