Talking to Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins (онлайн книги бесплатно полные .TXT) 📗

"Why not?" I asked.

The fire-witch turned and looked at me. Suddenly her eyes narrowed.

"Who are you, boy?" she asked sharply.

"My name is Daystar," I said, "and I would appreciate it if you would change Shiara back."

"No," she said flatly. "Why should I?" She was still staring at me, as if she were trying to figure something out. "You're very interesting, Daystar," she said abruptly. "I think perhaps I'll let you go. I haven't done anything like that in a long time. It might be an interesting experience. I think you had better leave before I change my mind."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving until you turn Shiara back," I said.

"Then I am afraid you will grow rather bored." The woman looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I don't have any use for you, and I can't be bothered storing things that aren't useful. Pity; you'd make a nice fountain." She lifted one hand and snapped her fingers.

I had just enough time to realize that I hadn't drawn my sword. I grabbed for it and pulled, knowing I wasn't going to make it. There was something like an explosion just in front of me, and a wave of heat, and then I was holding the Sword of the Sleeping King up in front of me and watching the fire-witch cursing and stamping at something.

She didn't look at all elegant anymore.

Suddenly I realized why the fire-witch had missed. "Nightwitch!" I yelled. A small bundle of black fur darted out from under the witch's skirts and vanished under a bush. The fire-witch glared after the kitten, then turned back to me. "You'll suffer for-" Right next to me there was a sound like someone blowing out several very large candles all at once, and a stream of fire shot out and enveloped the fire-witch. She laughed.

"Fire, to harm me? Even a dragon should know better! I'll see to you in a moment. Or do you think I am fool enough to grow a garden without dragonsbane?"

The dragon shuddered, and the fire-witch laughed again. Then she looked at me, and her eyes glittered. "I want you first, though.

Now!" She pointed at me, and I raised the Sword of the Sleeping King a little higher, holding on to the hilt with both hands and hoping it could handle fire-witches as well as it handled wizards.

Something hit the sword, and pain ran through my whole body. It felt a little like the shock I'd gotten when Shiara and I had tried to pick up the sword at the same time, except it went on and on. The Sword of the Sleeping King began to get hot. I felt as if boiling lead were running down the sword and into my arms. I think I screamed; I know the fire-witch did, because I heard her.

The Sword of the Sleeping King glowed dull red in my hands. It wasn't behaving at all the way it had when it stopped Antorell's spell, and I got the distinct impression that this wasn't very good for it. It wasn't very good for me, either; the sensation of boiling lead was oozing farther up my arms.

I knew that if I didn't do something I was going to drop the sword. I shouted and pushed. At least, pushing is the only way I can describe what I did. I wasn't really thinking too clearly by then. I just wanted the lead to go back into the sword and quit hurting.

I heard a wail from the fire-witch that kind of died out, and the pain stopped very suddenly. I noticed that the sword wasn't glowing anymore, and then I fell over. It wasn't that I felt particularly tired or weak. I just couldn't stand up anymore. The last thing I remember thinking was that I had to hang on to the sword, no matter what.

I woke up because something small and warm and rough was rubbing my chin. I opened my eyes. Night-witch was sitting on the ground in front of me, licking my face. I was lying face down on the moss. I could feel the Sword of the Sleeping King underneath me. It was very uncomfortable, but I didn't feel like moving. I closed my eyes again.

Nightwitch hissed and dug her claws into my shoulder. Kittens have surprisingly sharp claws, and I opened my eyes again very quickly. The dragon was staring at me from beside Nightwitch. At least, its head was beside Nightwitch. The rest of it wouldn't fit. It blinked at me.

"Are you dead?" it asked.

"No," I said. I thought about saying something else, but I didn't have the energy.

"Oh." The dragon sounded almost disappointed for a minute. Then it brightened. "I think that fire-witch is."

"That's nice." I had the feeling I should remember something, but I didn't want to think hard enough to figure out what.

Nightwitch hissed and dug her claws into me again.

"Stop that!" I said, and I rolled onto my back.

"What?" said the dragon.

"Nightwitch," I said. Rolling over had taken all the energy I had, and I didn't want to talk anymore. I didn't even want to think anymore. I wanted the dragon to just leave me alone, but I couldn't say so without being rude, so I closed my eyes and started drifting off to sleep instead. Then Nightwitch jumped onto my chest and dug her claws in hard.

I yelled and sat up. Nightwitch jumped down to the ground and ran off.

I tried to see where she'd gone and saw Morwen's bundle instead.

Suddenly I realized that I was very hungry. I started to reach for the bundle, then remembered that I was still holding the sword. I also remembered the boiling lead, and I was almost afraid to look at my hands. I was sure that this time I'd burned both of them worse than when I'd picked up the wizard's staff.I looked down. There wasn't anything wrong with me-at least, not that I could see. I let go of the sword with one hand. It didn't hurt. I heaved a sigh of relief and put the sword back in its sheath, then got out some of Morwen's gingerbread and started eating. It was a good thing the food was right on top of the bundle, because I didn't have the strength to hunt for it.

The dragon watched me for a few minutes with a puzzled expression.

"You're a very good magician," it said finally. "Where did you learn that spell?"

"Spell?" I was having a little trouble remembering the details of the fight. I wasn't sure whether it was because it had hurt so badly or because I was too busy eating.

"The one you shouted right before the witch went up in smoke," the dragon said, "You said, Power of water, wind, and earth, Turn the spell back to its birth."" "Oh, that," I said, feeling a little silly. "It's just part of a rhyme Mother taught me when I was little. I don't know why I said it."

"Your mother taught you? But that's a dragon spell! Your mother couldn't teach you dragon spells!"

"You don't know my mother," I said. I'd eaten most of the gingerbread, and I was feeling much better. "She taught me two more lines to the rhyme," I offered. "They go, Raise the fire to free the lord By the power of wood and sword."" The dragon looked at me suspiciously.

"Where did your mother learn dragon spells?"

"She didn't tell me," I said. I finished the gingerbread and looked around. "Where did Shiara…" My voice died in mid-sentence as I remembered exactly where Shiara had been when I saw her last. I didn't want to look, but I had to. I took a deep breath and turned my head.

Sometimes, when witches or wizards die, all of their spells die with them. If the witch or wizard is skillful, sometimes the spells last.

The fire-witch had been skillful. Shiara was still a statue.