Talking to Dragons (20 page)

“You won't have to juggle things until we start walking again,” Shiara said, but she kept the lamp.

Just then the dragon looked up. “I'm done,” it said. “Where do we go now?”

W
E STARTED WALKING AGAIN
. I don't know how far we went or how long it took us. The tunnel forked and we turned right, then it forked again and we went left. We walked through a large cave with walls like black mirrors, and a damp one that dripped water onto our heads, and an unpleasant slimy one with gray moss on the walls. I was very glad that Telemain had told us which way to go. We would have gotten lost very quickly without his directions.

A few times I thought I heard squishing noises behind us, but I wasn't sure enough to say anything. I was a lot more worried about remembering all the things Telemain had told us than I was about the quozzel.

Just when I was beginning to think we had taken a wrong turn somewhere, we came to another cavern.

This one was long and narrow, full of orange light and very hot. The tunnel came out halfway up one wall, about a hundred feet above the floor of the cave. A narrow path ran along one wall from where we stood to a dark opening on the opposite side of the cave.

“Are you sure we're going the right way?” Shiara asked, eyeing the path dubiously.

“I am now,” I said. “This was the last cave Telemain mentioned. Once we're on the other side, it shouldn't take long to get to the castle.”

“We have to get to the other side first,” Shiara pointed out. “That doesn't look very safe.”

“The Caves of Chance aren't supposed to be safe,” I said. “I'm surprised we haven't run into something a lot more dangerous than the quozzel.”

“I suppose—Nightwitch!” Shiara shouted, a minute too late; the kitten was already halfway across the narrow path. Shiara sighed. “Well, now we
have
to go across.”

Shiara insisted on going first, because Nightwitch was her cat. I didn't argue much. I went next, and the dragon came last. I had to hug the wall to keep from losing my balance and falling, which was hard to do with the key in one hand, Morwen's bundle in the other, and the sword under one arm. The dragon didn't have nearly as much difficulty as I did, even though it was a little too large for the ledge. It just dug its claws into the rock and kept coming.

When we finally made it to the other side, Shiara and I were covered with black rock dust. We took turns brushing each other off while Nightwitch sat far enough back to avoid getting any of it on her and the dragon looked superior. Evidently rock dust doesn't cling to dragon scales, which was very nice for the dragon but didn't do much to improve Shiara's temper.

“How much farther is it?” Shiara asked as we started off.

“I don't know,” I said. “But it shouldn't take much longer.”

“I hope not,” said the dragon. “I don't like this tunnel.”

“Why not?” Shiara asked.

“It isn't finished,” the dragon said.

I looked around. The tunnel was a lot rougher than the others we'd come through, and there were rocks sticking out at odd angles from the walls and the roof and even the floor. Every now and then it narrowed into a crooked little passage. If the dragon had been much bigger, it wouldn't have been able to fit through sometimes. We still saw side passages once in a while, but they seemed smaller and farther apart than they had in the first part of the tunnel.

“It does look sort of incomplete,” I said. “I think somebody—”

“Daystar, look out!” Shiara yelled. A large rock fell out of the ceiling, just missing my head. Along with the rock came a shower of pebbles that didn't miss.

I heard a creaking noise and felt more pebbles.

“Get back!” I shouted. I dropped Morwen's bundle and shoved Shiara. “Run!”

Shiara stumbled backward. Nightwitch yowled and made a tremendous leap right onto the dragon's nose. The dragon jerked in surprise, and Nightwitch made another jump and vanished into the darkness behind it. I heard more rumblings, and I shoved Shiara again, just as the roof came down on top of us.

When I woke up, it was very dark and I was lying face down on the tunnel floor. Somehow I'd managed to keep hold of the sword and the key. I could feel them, one halfway under me and the other digging into my left palm. I ached all over. I tried to move, but my legs were pinned under something heavy, and I couldn't drag them free. I pushed myself up a little and stared into the darkness. “Shiara? Nightwitch? Dragon?”

No one answered. They couldn't all have gotten caught in the cave-in. I'd been closest to the falling rocks, and only my legs were pinned. I started wishing I had the lamp, and then I remembered that the key glowed when I touched the Sword of the Sleeping King. I pushed up farther and felt around under me for the hilt, and something very moist and heavy hit me in the middle of my back.

I slammed back into the floor and almost lost consciousness again. The thing on my back bubbled, “The k-k-key! Let go, drop it, gug-give it to me!” Instinctively, I shoved my right hand farther under my chest, groping for the sword.

My fingers touched the hilt, and the key started to glow. It wasn't quite as good as the lamp, but at least I could see. I heard a muffled shriek, and the weight left my back very suddenly. An instant later, I saw the quozzel bending over my hand, and I tightened my grip on the key.

The quozzel bounced angrily. “You're still alive! I don't want you alive. I want that k-k-key. That's why I fixed the rocks.”

I shook my head to clear it. “
You
made the tunnel cave in? Just to get a
key?
”

“Of c-c-c-course!” the quozzel spluttered. “I'm supposed to take c-care of it. I'll get it, too. All I need is m-m-more rocks.”

The quozzel wobbled backward, toward the caved-in part of the tunnel. I rolled onto one elbow and looked back over my shoulder, trying to see what it was doing.

A medium-sized rock came crashing down beside me. The quozzel made an angry whistling noise. “H-hold still!”

“So you can drop rocks on me?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a long pile of something that seemed to end in a tangle of red hair. Shiara hadn't been buried under the rocks, then. Unfortunately, she didn't look like she would be able to help me with the quozzel anytime soon, and I still didn't know where Nightwitch or the dragon was. I twisted sideways, moving off the sword as much as I could with my legs pinned, and started working the Sword of the Sleeping King out of its sheath. It's not easy to draw a sword when you're lying on top of it, but I thought I might need it if the quozzel came any closer.

There was a sizzling noise from somewhere behind me, and a dozen or so rocks of assorted sizes came rolling down on top of me. Some of them hit places that had already been battered by the cave-in, and I yelled. The quozzel bubbled happily, and a few more rocks went by on one side. I shoved myself up on my hands as far as I could and yanked the sword the rest of the way out of the sheath and out from under me at the same time. I twisted around, just as two more large rocks came rolling down.

Awkwardly, I swung at the rocks with the flat of the sword, trying to deflect them a little. There was a bright flash as the sword hit them, and the rocks went flying toward the far wall of the tunnel. I heard a low humming sound that changed suddenly into a rumble, and the light in the cave went out. For some reason, I thought of the clearing where I'd said the spell at the Sword of the Sleeping King, when everything had gone dark and the voice had called me the Bearer of the Sword.

This time I didn't hear any voice, but the rumbling got louder and louder, and suddenly I realized that my legs were free. I curled them up under me, so I wouldn't be trapped again if the quozzel started another cave-in or something. The rumbling began to die down, and I heard faint shouts mixed in with it, and the bubbling noise that the quozzel made, and someone groaning. Then the rumbling stopped, and I could see again.

Carefully, because my legs felt kind of rubbery, I stood up and looked around. I could still hear the shouting; it sounded faint and far away, and after a moment it faded completely. Shiara was the person who had groaned. As I looked at her, she moved a little, and suddenly I felt a lot better about things generally. Then I heard squishing noises from in back of me, and I whirled.

Behind me, the tunnel was completely blocked by a sloping pile of rocks and dirt. At the base of the pile, where I had been trapped, was an empty space that looked as if something had sliced cleanly through the rocks and lifted them out of the way. Midway up the slope was the quozzel. It was wobbling hastily toward the tunnel floor. I pointed the Sword of the Sleeping King at it, and it stopped abruptly.

“Just a minute, you!” I said. “You have some questions to answer.”

“I d-d-d-didn't know,” said the quozzel. “I still don't. K-k-keep the k-key. Nice to m-m-meet you. Glug-gug-goodbye.”

“Oh, no, you don't.” I stepped in front of it, so that if it wobbled forward any more it would get stuck on my sword.

“I'm gug-gug-gug-going,” said the quozzel. It seemed to be stammering a lot more than it had before. I found myself hoping it was even more nervous than it looked.

“You aren't going anywhere until you explain why you want this key so badly,” I said. “And maybe not then. I don't think I ought to leave something as sneaky and treacherous as you running around loose.” I tried to sound intimidating, even though I had no idea what I was going to do with the quozzel. I didn't think I could just kill it, and I certainly didn't want to bring it along with me, but I wasn't about to tell the quozzel any of that. After what it had tried to do, I thought it deserved to worry a little.

“Daystar?” Shiara's voice distracted me from the quozzel, which was bubbling and popping worriedly to itself. “Daystar, what happened?”

“The quozzel made the tunnel cave in,” I said. “It was trying to kill me so it could get the key. Are you all right?”

“Of course I'm—yow!” said Shiara. I looked quickly around and saw her sitting up very carefully. She looked a little pale. “I think I broke my arm,” she said.

“Can I do anything to help?” I asked.

“You can keep that stupid quozzel away from me!” Shiara said. “I'll be fine as long as I don't move much.”

I didn't believe her, but I couldn't have done much to help anyway. I didn't know anything about setting broken arms, except that you can make things a lot worse if you don't know what you're doing. And if Shiara wanted me to keep watching the quozzel instead of trying to help her, she would probably get mad if I didn't. I doubted that that would be good for her arm, either. Besides, I didn't want the quozzel to get away and try dropping the roof on us again.

“Where's Nightwitch?” Shiara asked after a while. “And the dragon?”

“I don't know,” I told her. “I haven't seen them since the tunnel fell in.”

“You miserable little blob!”

I looked around in surprise and was very relieved to see Shiara glaring at the quozzel and not at me.

“If anything's happened to Nightwitch because of your stupid cave-in, I'll—I'll melt you into a puddle!” she went on.

“You'd better not try,” the quozzel said, starting to bounce. “The w-w-wizard will gug-get you if you do!”

“What wizard?” I said.

The quozzel bubbled unhappily. “I can't tell you.”

“Oh no?” Shiara said. She stood up slowly and came over beside me, holding her right arm carefully in her left one. “I guess I'd better just melt you, then, and save some time.”

“No-n-
no!
” said the quozzel. Little ripples ran over it, and it seemed to shrink.

“Then you'd better tell us what wizard you're talking about,” I said.

“The one who gug-gave me the key,” the quozzel said unwillingly. “He told me to take care of it until he came back for it.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked, ignoring Shiara, who was rubbing her bruises and muttering to herself.

“A long time,” the quozzel said. “He never came back, so it's still m-m-my responsib-b-bility.”

“Not if I melt you, it isn't,” Shiara said, and the quozzel subsided very suddenly.

“What is it the key to?” I said. “And why did the wizard leave it here?”

“D-d-don't know,” the quozzel said sullenly. “He said people would come look for it and try to take it. That's why he wanted m-m-me to look after it. You aren't supposed to take it. No one's supposed to take it b-b-but the wizard!”

“What did this wizard look like?” I asked, although I had an unpleasant feeling that I knew already.

The quozzel's description sounded a little like Antorell, but he was definitely older and he'd been wearing blue-and-gray robes instead of blue and brown. I was extremely relieved. Shiara didn't recognize the description, either, but she wasn't as relieved as I was.

“How do we know this stupid thing isn't lying?” she said. “I think we should—what's that?”

I could hear something far down the tunnel, but it echoed too much for me to be able to tell what it was. It seemed to be getting louder.

“I think something's coming,” I said to Shiara; then, “You stay where you are!” to the quozzel, who had been trying to wobble a little closer to the bottom of the rock pile.

The quozzel froze again, and Shiara gave me a disgusted look. “I know
something's
coming, but what is it?”

I didn't answer. The noise came closer, and I saw a flickering light partway down the tunnel. I shifted position so I could watch the quozzel and still see some of the rest of the tunnel. The light got brighter, and a moment later a bunch of people came through one of the side passages. They were all short and sort of squashed looking, bigger than the elves we'd met, but considerably shorter than a normal person. Most of them were carrying picks or shovels or long, pointed iron poles, and a couple of them had torches. They seemed to be following something, but they were too far away and the light was too bad for me to be sure.