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

"I'll kill all of you!" it whistled angrily. "Key stealers! Cannibals! I'll kill you d-d-dead!"

I lunged for it, but I was too late. The quozzel hit the tunnel wall, and instead of bouncing, it vanished into the rock like water being absorbed by a sponge, only faster. An instant later a shower of rocks fell out of the roof of the tunnel, and I heard the walls creaking ominously.

"Run!" I yelled. I started to follow my own advice but saw a large rock shifting in the wall of the tunnel just above Shiara's head. I shouted again and swung the sword at it, hoping it would be deflected like the other rocks the quozzel had tried to drop on me.

The flat of the sword hit the rock, and everything seemed to slow down suddenly. There was a lot of creaking, and the top of the tunnel started to sag, as if it were trying to fall in again but couldn't quite manage it. The sword got very heavy, and then there was an angry-sounding rumble and the whole tunnel shook. The rock that had been heading for Shiara went bouncing off the opposite wall of the tunnel, and all the creaking and rumbling stopped very abruptly.

I didn't move for several seconds at least. I didn't think the quozzel would give up this easily. Then I saw a thin trickle of dark purple stuff dripping down the wall of the tunnel where the quozzel had disappeared. I watched it for a minute or two and decided that we probably didn't have to worry about the quozzel anymore. I looked at Shiara.

"Are you all right?"

"That's a stupid question," Shiara said. "My arm is broken!"

"I mean, you didn't get any more hurt than you were already, did you?"

"No," she said. She looked at me. "Thanks."

I was so surprised that I couldn't think of anything to say for at least a minute.

"Um, you're welcome," I said finally. I realized suddenly that my sword still had some wet purple stuff on it from hitting the quozzel, and I started digging in my pocket for my handkerchief so I could wipe off the sword.

I couldn't find it. I sighed. It had probably fallen out of my pocket somewhere on the trip through the caves. I didn't really mind losing it, except that now I didn't have anything to get the purple goo off my sword with. I turned to the dwarves. "Excuse me, but do any of you-" I stopped. The dwarves were standing in a tight group, and all seven of them were staring at the sword.

"Now, why didn't you think to mention you had that?" one of them said.

17

In Which They Get out of the Caves and into Even More Trouble

Shiara and I looked at the dwarves. "He's been holding it since before you got here!" Shiara said finally. "Why should he have mentioned it?"

"It would have saved a lot of bother," one of the female dwarves said in an aggrieved tone.

"Time, too," said another.

"Inconsiderate, I call it."

"Well, not inconsiderate, exactly," said one of the male dwarves, eyeing the dragon. "A little thoughtless, maybe."

"Thoughtless?" The dragon looked puzzled. "Why? What difference does it make if Daystar has a sword?"

'"A sword is one thing. That sword is something else again."

"Someone should have told us."

"Someone should definitely have told us."

"After all, we aren't elves."

"Of course you're not elves," the dragon said. "Anyone can see that! What does that have to do with Daystar's sword?"

"It's not his sword!" one of the dwarves objected. "It's the King's!"

"And elves can recognize it just by looking at it," a female dwarf said in a resentful tone.

"So can some other people," said another darkly.

"But not dwarves."

"Unless we get a good look at it, of course. Which we couldn't, because of the light, not to mention the fact that you were standing there talking and distracting our attention."

"Which is why you should have mentioned it," a dwarf in the back finished triumphantly.

"I didn't mention it because there seem to be a lot of people who want it," I said. "One of them is a wizard."

About six of the dwarves started talking so fast it was hard to tell whether they were all speaking at the same time or whether they went one after another.

"Of course there are a lot of people who want it!"

"Particularly wizards."

"It's the King's sword, isn't it?"

"Maybe it isn't; he hasn't said."

"It has to be the King's sword, silly. There aren't any other swords that the earth obeys."

"What about Delvan's blade?"

"That's not a sword, it's an ax."

"And the earth doesn't obey it, it just shakes a lot."

"So this has to be the King's sword."

"Wait a minute!" I said. "What do you know about my sword?"

"It's the King's sword," one of the dwarves said indignantly. Another dwarf shushed him, and a dwarf near the front of the crowd stepped forward and bowed.

"We follow the sword," she said, as if it explained everything.

The other dwarves all smiled and nodded. I sighed and gave up. Either none of them really knew anything else, or they knew and weren't going to tell me, and I didn't think it mattered much which it was. "If you aren't going to tell me about my sword, could one of you do something about Shiara's arm?" I asked. "And after that, we'll be going."

"Going where?" the dragon said.

Some of the dwarves jumped. Evidently they'd forgotten the dragon was behind them. I was surprised; if a dragon were standing behind me, I certainly wouldn't forget it was there.

"We have to find another way out of the Caves of Chance," I told the dragon. "I don't really think we can dig through this one."

"That will not be necessary," said the dwarf closest to me. "Had we known you were the Bearer of the Sword, we would not have objected to your request."

"Not at all," said the dwarf next to him. She turned and waved at the others. "Lord Daystar requires this tunnel cleared. Begin"

I stood and stared while the dwarves all grabbed their picks and shovels and things and started toward the rocks that were blocking the tunnel. In a few minutes they were all digging furiously-except for one, who came over to Shiara and bowed.

"I am Darlbrin," he announced.

"That's nice," Shiara said sarcastically. I sighed, but I didn't say anything.

You can't really expect a fire-witch with a broken arm to be particularly polite.

Darlbrin didn't seem to notice. "I have some skill at mending things," he said, and bowed again. "If you will permit it, I would like to examine your arm." He looked at Shiara a shade anxiously and added, "To see if I can mend it."

Shiara rolled her eyes, but she walked over to the edge of the tunnel and sat down so the dwarf could see better. Nightwitch followed, alternately purring reassuringly and meowing anxiously.

I watched for a minute or two, then turned away. I couldn't do anything to help, and I wanted to think.

I didn't get the chance. As soon as I turned, the dragon stuck its head over a couple of dwarves and said, "I didn't know you were a lord.

Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm not a lord!" I said. I think I sounded a little desperate, and I know I felt desperate. I didn't have the slightest idea what was going on, except that it had something to do with my sword. Everything seemed to have something to do with my sword. I was getting tired of it, and more than a little worried.

"Well, if you aren't a lord, why did they call you one?"

"Because he has the King's sword," said a dwarf who was walking under the dragon's chin with a boulder more than half as big as he was. The dragon pulled its head back far enough to eye the dwarf, who ignored it and kept walking.

"I really wish you'd explain a little more," I yelled after the dwarf, and then I thought of something. "Why did you call me the Bearer of the Sword?"

"I didn't call you anything," the dwarf said without stopping. "That was Cottlestone." He set the boulder down and headed back toward the pile of rocks, which was beginning to look smaller already.