Dealing with Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins (бесплатные версии книг .TXT) 📗

"What's the matter with him?"

"I don't know. He doesn't tell me anything about dragon politics or wizards or what he's been getting so worked up about. He's not like Kazul."

Cimorene frowned, considering. "Maybe Kazul will have some idea what's bothering him. I'll ask her this evening. In the meantime, let's go get that feverfew. You're right to say that I could use a break."

"Oh, good," said Alianora in tones of considerable relief. "I've never picked herbs before, and I'm not sure what feverfew looks like. I don't know what I'd have done if you'd said you wouldn't come."

Cimorene put her notes away and got two wicker baskets and a small knife from one of the storage rooms. "Up or down?" Alianora asked as they left the cave.

"Up," Cimorene said. "The other way is the ledge I told you about, and I wouldn't be surprised if bits of it are still invisible."

The path through the Pass of Silver Ice twisted and turned past the openings of other dragons' caves. Most of the rocks around the caves had scorch marks, and Cimorene and Alianora didn't see much growing among them.

"At this rate, we'll have to go nearly all the way to the Enchanted Forest to find any grass, much less herbs!" Alianora complained.

"Wait a minute!" Cimorene said. "Look over there, through that crack in the rocks. Doesn't that look like something green?"

Alianora's eyes followed Cimorene's pointing finger. "Yes," she said without enthusiasm. "It looks green."

The rock Cimorene had indicated was a large boulder at the bottom of a steep slope. The slope was covered with gravel and looked as if it would be impossible to climb down without skinning a knee or an elbow at the very least. The boulder itself was in two pieces, with just enough space between them for someone to squeeze through, provided the someone was not very large.

"Come on, let's get a better look," said Cimorene. She walked to the edge of the slope and wrapped her skirts tightly around her legs. Then she sat down with her basket in her lap and slid down the slope, raising an enormous cloud of dust and sounding like an avalanche in process. She reached the bottom in safety and stood up, brushing at her skirt. The dust was so thick that she could hardly see, and when she tried to call to Alianora, she coughed so hard that she could barely speak.

"Cimorene! Are you all right?"

"It's just the dust," Cimorene said in a muffled voice. She had taken out her handkerchief and put it over her mouth and nose to keep the dust out. It wasn't perfect, but it helped a great deal. "Come on, it's your turn."

"Are you sure we shouldn't just go around?"

"Stop stalling. It's not that bad."

"That's what you say," Alianora muttered, but she wrapped her skirts around her, clutched her basket, and slid down the slope. She made even more noise than Cimorene had. When she got to the bottom, she was coughing and choking. Cimorene handed her the handkerchief, and they waited for a moment while the dust settled.

Crawling through the split boulder was easier than they expected. The crevice was wider than it had looked from the path, and the bottom of the crack was so full of dust and gravel and dead leaves that it was almost flat.

Cimorene and Alianora had to walk single file, and there were one or two spots where they had to turn sideways in order to get through, but it was not really difficult.

On the other side of the boulder, the two girls found a lush, green valley. It was bowl-shaped and not very large, but flowers and grasses stood waist-high between the random clumps of bushes that dotted the valley floor. A squirrel, which had been sunning itself on a ledge near the entrance, leaped for a small tree as Cimorene and Alianora appeared.

"My goodness!" Alianora said, looking around with wide eyes. "This place looks as if no one but us has ever been here before. There aren't even any scorch marks on the rocks."

Cimorene blinked. Alianora was right. Lichens covered the weathered gray rocks that rose above the valley, and small plants grew in cracks and crevices that showed no sign of the touch of dragon fire.

"That's odd," Cimorene commented.

"Why?" Alianora asked.

"Those mountains aren't tall enough to keep dragons from flying over, and they're right in the middle of the dragons territory. So why haven't the dragons been here? They usually keep a close eye on everything that belongs to them."

"Maybe they have been here, but they never found anything to breathe fire at," Alianora said.

"Well, I'm going to ask Kazul about it when I get back," Cimorene said as she waded into the grass. "Why don't you take that side, and I'll look over here? We will cover more ground that way."

"First you'd better show me what I'm looking for," Alianora said apologetically.

"I'm afraid I couldn't tell feverfew from carrots if there was a dragon chasing me and my life depended on it."

Cimorene nodded, and they started off. They had not gone far when she saw a patch of the white button-shaped flowers she was looking for.

"Here," she said, showing them to Alianora. "This is feverfew. The younger plants are the best, the ones that haven't blossomed yet."

Alianora studied the leaves and flowers with care. "I think I'll recognize it now."

They cut some of the plants, leaving those that were blooming.

"You find the next patch," Cimorene said as they started off again.

"Let's try over there," Alianora said, pointing.

They found several more patches of feverfew, and gradually their baskets began to fill. "I think this should be enough," Cimorene said at last.

"Unless you think-" "Cimorene!"Alianora hissed, clutching at Cimorene's arm. "There's someone behind that bush!"

Cimorene turned.A dark line snaked through the grass where something large had bent and broken the plants in passing. "You're right," she said, and started forward.

Alianora hung back, still holding Cimorene's arm. "You're not going to go look, are you?"

"How else are we going to find out who it is?" Cimorene asked reasonably.

She shook off Alianora's hand. Quietly, she walked over to the clump of bushes and peered around it. Alianora followed with evident reluctance.

A man in blue and brown silk robes was crouched on the other side of the bush with his back toward Cimorene. He was stuffing saw-edged purple leaves into a small linen bag the size of Cimorene's hand. His hair was brown, and on the ground beside him lay a long, polished staff.

"Antorell?" Cimorene said in surprise.

The man snatched up his staff and straightened as if a bee had just stung him. It was indeed Antorell, and he did not look at all pleased to see her. He stuffed the linen bag quickly into his sleeve and said, "P-princess Cimorene! What brings you here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Cimorene said.

"Wizards go where they wish, answering to no one," Antorell said, waving his free hand in a lofty manner.

"Maybe outside the Mountains of Morning they do, but around here they have to check with the dragons first," Cimorene said.

"You know nothing of the matter," Antorell said, looking very put out.

"Cimorene…" Alianora's tone was doubtful. "You know this person?"

"I'm sorry; I should have introduced you. This is Antorell, one of the wizards I told you about. Antorell, this is Princess Alianora of the Duchy of Toure-on-Marsh. At the moment, she's the princess of the dragon Woraug."

Alianora curtsied, murmuring something polite and inaudible.

Antorell, who had stiffened in surprise when he realized that Cimorene was not alone, relaxed visibly. "Woraug's princess? That's all right, then.

Though he really shouldn't have sent you."

"But Woraug didn't-ow!" said Alianora. The "ow" was because Cimorene had hastily kicked her ankle to keep her from telling Antorell too much.