Dealing with Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins (бесплатные книги полный формат .TXT) 📗
11
In Which Kazul Is Unwell, and Cimorene Makes a New Acquaintance
Alianora decided to return home by way of the path outside instead of through the runnels because it was such a nice day and she hoped the sun would dry her skirt. Cimorene watched her go, swinging her basket happily and humming a little, her confidence and good humor completely restored by the possession of the fat little packet of dried feverfew in her pocket.
"I wish I had as little to worry about," Cimorene muttered, thinking of Woraug and the wizards. She held the burned patch at the end of her sleeve up to get a better look at it in the sunlight and shook her head. Even the magic wardrobe would have a hard time fixing that. A puff of wind made her shiver in her wet clothes, and she turned to go back into the cave to change.
A dark shadow fell over Cimorene, and she stopped and looked up.
"Kazul!" she said as the dragon landed on the open path beside her.
"Am I glad to see you. Wait until you hear what's been happening!"
"You do appear to have had a rather strenuous day," Kazul said, eyeing Cimorene's wet, stained skirt and the blackened end of her right sleeve.
"Nothing serious, I trust?"
"I'm not sure," Cimorene said. "Alianora and I went out to pick some feverfew, and we ran into that wizard Antorell."
"Where was this?"
Cimorene pointed. "Up that way. There's a little round valley off to one side that looks as if dragons never go there, and-" "You found a wizard there?" Kazul sounded deeply disturbed. "How did he get in? How did you get in?"
"We climbed through a crack in a boulder," Cimorene said. "I don't know how Antorell did it. When he left, he was heading for the far side of the valley."
"This is serious," Kazul said, getting to her feet. "I'd better warn the King. He'll have to use the crystal now."
"You'd better hear the rest of it first," Cimorene said. "Antorell wasn't too happy to see us, but when he found out that Alianora was Woraug's princess, he relaxed. He seemed to think that Woraug had sent us."
"What?"
Cimorene involuntarily stepped back a pace at the anger in Kazul's voice. "He thought Woraug had sent us," she repeated, and gave a quick summary of her conversation with Antorell.
"Woraug!" Kazul's tail lashed, sweeping a small boulder from one side of the path to the other. "But Woraug's not a fool, and only a fool would let a wizard into that valley. Unless he was sure that they didn't know…
What was Antorell doing?"
"Cutting plants," Cimorene said. "Or rather, cutting a plant. It didn't look as if he took more than one."
"He wouldn't need more than one, if it was the right one," Kazul said tensely. "What did he pick?"
"It was a prickly looking purple thing, with saw-edged leaves," Cimorene said, reaching into her pocket. "I didn't recognize it, but I thought you might, so I brought a piece back for you to look-" What?"
Kazul roared.
Flame spurted from the dragon's mouth, enveloping Cimorene. Steam hissed from her wet skirt, and the thinner material of her sleeves vanished in a crackle of sparks. The handkerchief-wrapped spray of purple leaves, which she had just taken out of her pocket to show Kazul, disintegrated into a dark, greasy-looking cloud of smoke.
Cimorene stared at the ashes in her palm: feeling very, very glad that she had decided to test the way fresh feverfew would work in the fireproofing spell. She felt a little warm, and her clothes had been reduced to a few charred rags, but that was nothing compared to what might have happened.
"Now I understand why Alianora ran out of feverfew," she muttered.
A puff of wind brushed Cimorene's arms, and she heard a choking sound from Kazul. She looked up, expecting to find the dragon laughing at her remark, and her eyes widened. Kazul's head was thrown back, and her mouth was wide open, giving Cimorene an excellent view of the dragon's sharp silver teeth and long red tongue. Cimorene skipped backward out of reach; then she realized that the dragon was gasping for air.
"Kazul! What's the matter?"
"The smoke? Kazul coughed. Her voice was so hoarse that it was hard for Cimorene to understand what she was saying.
"What can I do?" Cimorene said, trying not to feel frightened.
"Green jar-shelf in last treasure room," Kazul managed between coughs.
"Hurry."
Cimorene was already running through the mouth of the cave as fast as her feet could carry her. She did not even pause as she snatched up her lamp from the floor just inside the door. It seemed to take forever to get through the twisty passages and the first two caves full of treasure. She skidded to a halt in the doorway of the third room and stood panting, scanning the walls for the shelf and the right jar.
She found it quickly and ran back at once, the jar clutched tightly in her right hand.
The sound of Kazul's coughing grew louder as Cimorene sped back the way she had come. At the mouth of the cave, Cimorene paused and set down the lamp, then unscrewed the top of the green jar. Inside was a thick, emerald-colored liquid about the consistency of honey. She looked out at Kazul. The dragon's head jerked with each cough, and the scales on her neck were beginning to turn pink around the edges. For a long, careful moment Cimorene studied Kazul's movements. Then she leaned back and threw the emerald liquid, jar and all, into the dragon's open mouth just as Kazul took another gasping breath.
The jar landed on Kazul's tongue. The dragon's mouth closed, and she swallowed convulsively. Sudden silence descended.
"Are you all right now?" Cimorene asked after Kazul had taken several deep breaths without a renewed bout of coughing.
"I will be," Kazul said. She sounded exhausted, and her movements as she slid into the cave were slow and uncertain.
"What happened?" Cimorene said, backing out of the way so that Kazul would not have to exert herself to go around.
"I got a breath of the smoke when the plant in your hand burned," Kazul said as she settled to the floor just inside the entrance. "Lucky it was only a breath. I'll need a few days of rest, but that's better than being dead."
Cimorene stared at her, appalled. "What was that plant?"
"Dragonsbane," said Kazul. Her eyes closed and she slept.
Kazul continued to sleep for most of the next three days. She woke only long enough for Cimorene to pour a couple of gallons of warm milk mixed with honey down her throat from time to time before she lapsed back into unconsciousness. Cimorene was very worried, but there wasn't much that she could do. Sick dragons are too large and heavy for normal nursing to be of much use.
On the afternoon of the third day, Kazul woke up completely for the first time since her collapse.
"Thank goodness!" said Cimorene as Kazul shook her head experimentally and sat up. "I was beginning to think you were going to sleep for a month."
"I might have if I'd gotten more than a whiff of that smoke." Kazul stretched her neck in one direction and her tail in the other, trying to work out some of the kinks.
"If I'd known it was so dangerous, I'd never have brought any of that purple plant back with me," Cimorene apologized. "You might have done worse than sleep for a month. You might have-" She stopped, unwilling to complete the thought.
"I might have died?" Kazul said. "Unlikely. If a dragon isn't killed outright by something in the first five minutes, recovery is only a matter of time. That applies as much to dragonsbane as to a knight's magic sword."
"Then why did you want that goo in the green jar?" Cimorene asked.
"The antidote? I wanted it because I didn't like the idea of spending a month recuperating when I didn't have to. And since-" A fit of coughing interrupted Kazul in mid-sentence.