Talking to Dragons (5 page)

By the middle of the morning we were both hungry again. Blackberries don't stick with you for long. We stopped and ate the berries I'd saved in my handkerchief. They were squashed and messy, but they tasted fine. When we finished, we walked some more. It was a warm day, and by the time we saw the stream we were both very thirsty.

“Water! Oh, great!” Shiara said as we reached the bank. It was a small stream, ankle deep and a little too wide to jump. I could see the pebbles on the bottom. Shiara knelt on the bank and reached down.

“Wait a minute!” I said. “You shouldn't just drink that. You could turn into a rabbit, or lose your memory, or disappear, or something.”

Shiara looked at me. Then she looked at the stream. “I don't care,” she said finally. “I'm thirsty.” She leaned toward the water again.

“But what if—Watch out!” I grabbed Shiara and pulled her away just as a huge swirl of muddy water came rushing down the stream. She scrambled back and stood up, and we watched the stream for a minute. It was now almost a river, deep and fast and angry.

Shiara looked at me. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome. I guess we'll have to go back—” I started to turn back toward the woods and stopped. There was dark water on that side of us, too. We were standing on an island. A very small island. It was getting smaller every minute.

I stared at the churning water, and my hand went to my sword. I don't know why—most swords aren't any good against floods. As soon as I touched the hilt I knew that it wasn't in the nature of this particular stream to do this sort of thing. I didn't know how I knew, but I was sure someone was creating the flood.

Right about then I heard a chuckle. Not a nice chuckle. I was looking around for the chuckler when Shiara grabbed my arm. “Daystar! Over there!”

I turned. A man was leaning against one of the trees. He had blue robes and black hair, and he held a wizard's staff in one hand. I didn't like the way he was watching Shiara.

“Well, little fire-witch, I seem to have caught you again,” he said.

“You leave me alone!” Shiara shouted. “Or I'll burn your staff, too.”

The wizard chuckled again. He really had a nasty chuckle. “Oh, I don't think so. I've taken precautions, you see.” He waved at the water that surrounded us and smiled patronizingly. “Or weren't you aware that fire magic won't cross water?”

“Magic may not cross water, but we can,” I said. I was beginning to share Shiara's dislike of wizards. “Come on, Shiara. It can't be very deep.”

“Where did you find the hero?” the wizard asked. Shiara just glared at him. The wizard laughed. I didn't like his laugh any better than his chuckle. “I should give him something to do, don't you think? A monster, perhaps. Heroes like monsters.” He waved his staff in the general direction of the flooding stream.

The water on one side of our island bunched up and began to solidify rapidly. I didn't even have time to step back before the thing finished growing. When it was done, it looked sort of like a giant snake's head that dripped. The outlines kept changing because it was made out of water that wasn't completely solid, but it was pretty clearly a snake.

It lunged at me. I dodged, barely in time, and drew my sword. Shiara yelled, and steam puffed from the snake head. The snake didn't seem particularly hurt. Some of the stream water bunched up around it, but that was all. I heard the wizard laugh again.

“I'm afraid that won't work very well, young lady,” he said. “You'd have to boil the whole stream away to get rid of my monster, and I don't think you can. Pity, isn't it? Be patient. You'll have your turn in another minute, and then the Head Wizard will owe me a favor.”

The head lunged again. By now I was ready for it, but it was awfully fast. I dodged and struck at it with the sword, even though I wasn't sure what good it would do me to wound something that wasn't even alive.

The sword made a humming noise. I heard the wizard shout, and then a sound like an explosion. The snake head made a bubbly noise and collapsed in a wave of muddy water that swept over the little island Shiara and I were standing on, soaking everything. In another minute, the flood water drained away, leaving a lot of wet moss. And Shiara yelled again.

I whirled around. Shiara was pointing. It took me a second to realize what she was pointing at. It was the big tree that the wizard had been leaning against. A couple of short branches were lying at the foot of the tree. The wizard was gone.

I
STOOD WHERE I WAS
, panting and dripping. When I got my breath back, I went over to the tree. There was no sign of the wizard, except for the “branches” I'd noticed. There were three of them, and they weren't branches. They were pieces of a staff.

I looked at Shiara. “That's two wizards' staffs you've broken. They're really going to be after you now.”

“I didn't break it,” Shiara said indignantly. “You did.”

“I did not,” I said. We looked at each other for a minute.

“If neither of us broke it,” Shiara said finally, “who did?”

“Me,” said a voice. I looked up. A little man was sitting in the branches of the tree. He was about two feet tall and dressed entirely in green. His eyes were black and very bright, and his ears were slightly pointed. He had to be an elf.

“I think you mean ‘I,'” I said automatically.

“I shouldn't wonder if you're right.” The elf tilted his head to one side. “Does it matter?”

“Can you get down from that tree?” Shiara said. “You're giving me a crick in my neck.”

The elf looked from me to Shiara and back to me again. “Introduce me to your charming companion.”

“Oh, excuse me,” I said. I told the elf our names and thanked him for taking care of the wizard. I was a little curious about that. I'd never met an elf, but they didn't have a reputation for altruism. I wasn't sure I wanted to trust one, either. Elves can be very tricky.

“You're welcome,” the elf said. “I've never cared much for wizards. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to do anything permanent to them. This one will be back in a day or two.”

“If there is anything we can do for you in return, I would like to hear what it is,” I said. If someone in the Enchanted Forest does you a favor, you have to offer to do one for them. Well, you don't have to, but if you don't, things seem to go wrong a lot after that. You have to be careful, though. If you promise to do a favor before you hear what it is, you can end up in more trouble than you started with. I wasn't going to promise anything without finding out first what I was promising.

“Consider the debt canceled,” the elf said politely. I thought he sounded disappointed, and I didn't like the way he was looking at my sword. Suddenly I was very glad Mother had told me about making promises in the Enchanted Forest.

“Thank you,” I said. “You did a very neat job.” He had, too; the staff had been sliced cleanly into thirds. I began to wonder how he had done it. I hadn't thought elves were powerful enough to break a wizard's staff. I didn't want to offend him by asking about it, though.

“You may have the staff, if you want it,” the elf said, waving at the pieces.

“What good is a busted wizard's staff?” Shiara asked. “You can't
do
anything with it.”

“Nonsense,” said the elf. “Wizards' staffs are just as powerful in pieces as they are whole, and they're fairly easy to put back together. Please, take it with you.”

I didn't like the way he kept suggesting that, though it sounded reasonable enough. “Are you sure you don't want it?” I asked finally.

“What would an elf do with a wizard's staff? If you don't take it, I'll just have to get rid of it somewhere.”

That sounded reasonable, too, but I wasn't going to commit myself. He was too insistent. “Thank you for the suggestion,” I said. “We'll think about it.”

“Do,” the elf said. His black eyes twinkled. “Perhaps I'll see you later. Goodbye.” Before I could say anything he had disappeared into the treetops. Elves move very quickly.

“What was that about?” Shiara demanded.

“I don't know about that elf,” I said slowly. “I think something funny is going on. He was trying too hard to get us to take that staff.”

“Well, we have to do something with it,” Shiara said.

“Why?” I said. “
We
didn't break it. And I don't want to mess with a wizard's staff, even a broken one.”

Shiara frowned. I made a gesture toward the pieces and realized that I was still holding the sword in my hand. I started to put it back in its sheath, then stopped. The sheath was as wet as everything else I was wearing. I couldn't put the sword in that. I mean, not all magic swords are rustproof, and even if you have one that is, putting your sword away without cleaning it is a bad habit to get into. I checked my pockets, just in case, but even my handkerchief was wet.

“Shiara, do you have anything—no, you wouldn't, you were in the middle of that stream, too.”

“What? What are you mumbling about?” Shiara said.

“I need something to dry off my sword,” I said. “Everything I have is soaked. But you're just as wet as I am . . .” My voice trailed off, because right then I really looked at her, and she wasn't. Wet, I mean. Her shoes were steaming a little, but her hair and her clothes weren't even damp.

“Fire-witches dry off fast,” Shiara said in a smug tone.

“Then can you give me something to clean my sword?” I asked. “Everything I have is soaked.”

“What does that have to do with the wizard's staff? Oh, give it here. I'll fix it.” She held out her hand a little reluctantly. I could see she didn't really want to take the sword. After what had happened the last time she'd touched it, I couldn't blame her.

“That's all right, I'll do it,” I said. “It's my job. All I need is something dry to wipe it with.”

Shiara glared at me. “All I have is my tunic, and I am not going to take it off just so you can dry your stupid sword! If you won't give it to me, it can rust.”

My face got very hot. “I, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . . I mean, I didn't think . . .”

“Oh, shut up and give me the sword.”

I held it out. Shiara took it a little gingerly, but neither of us felt anything unusual. While she wiped it dry on the front of her tunic, I walked over to the stream. I was pretty sure, now, that the water was safe to drink. I'd swallowed some of it when the wizard's wave hit me, and nothing had happened to me yet. I bent over and took a drink.

The water was clean and cold, with just a hint of lime. It tasted awfully good, though I prefer lemon-flavored streams myself. I think I like lemon because Mother and I got most of our drinking water from a lemon-flavored stream just inside the forest. It was much nicer than the well water we used for washing, even if it was more work to haul the buckets that far.

Shiara came over just as I finished. She looked at me for a minute, then handed me the sword. “Here.” I took it, and she sat down and started trying to drink out of her cupped hands. Most of the water ran out, but she kept trying.

I stood holding the sword and wondering what I was going to do with it. I mean, walking through the Enchanted Forest with a sword in your hand is just
asking
for trouble. On the other hand, I couldn't put it away until the sheath dried out, and that would probably take hours.

Shiara finished drinking and sat up. “Now, what are we going to do about that wizard's staff?”

Neither one of us wanted to take it with us. Shiara suggested hiding the pieces before we left, and finally I agreed. We walked back over to the tree. I started to put my sword down, then changed my mind. One of the easiest ways of losing important things in the Enchanted Forest is to put them down while you do something else. Then you have to go to all the bother of finding whoever took your things before you can get on with whatever you really want to do. I shifted the sword into my left hand and looked around for the nearest piece of staff.

“Daystar! Come see!” Shiara was waving a piece of the staff to attract my attention.

“You really shouldn't do that,” I said as I walked over. “You might set off a spell or something. This used to be a wizard's staff, remember? We ought to at least
try
to be careful.”

“Yes, but look what it did,” Shiara said, pointing. I looked down. There was a brown patch in the moss, just the size and shape of the stick Shiara was holding. I bent over and looked more closely. The moss was so dry and brittle that it turned to powder when I touched it.

“But this is the Enchanted Forest,” I said to no one in particular. “You aren't supposed to be able to
do
things like this.”

“Well, this wizard's staff did,” Shiara said. “I bet it'll do it again, too.” Before I could stop her, she laid the stick down on the moss. She picked it up almost immediately. The moss underneath it was brown and dead.

I stared. “I don't like this,” I said. There aren't very many things you can be sure of in the Enchanted Forest, but I'd never seen a dead plant there, not even in the Outer Forest. The whole place felt too alive to put up with that sort of thing. “I wonder if all wizards' staffs do that.”

“I don't know about other staffs, but we can check the other pieces of this one,” Shiara said. She walked toward one of the other two sticks. I sighed and started for the last one.

“This one's the same,” Shiara reported after a minute. “What about yours?”

“Just a minute,” I said. I bent over and picked it up in my right hand . . .

When I woke up, Shiara was dripping water on my face. “You can stop now,” I said. “I'm wet enough already.”