Talking to Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins - Страница 9

"What cat?"

"That one." I pointed at the large, dignified, black-and-white cat that was cleaning its face in the middle of a puddle of sunlight. It didn't even strike me as odd that I hadn't noticed it until I started talking about it.

Shiara turned her head. As soon as she looked at it, the cat stopped washing itself. It stared at her for a minute, then stood up. The tip of its tail twitched three times, and it turned around and started walking away. After a minute, it stopped and looked back over its shoulder. It was obviously waiting.

Shiara jumped up. "Come on, Daystar. We're going to follow the cat.

I think somebody sent it."

"That doesn't make sense," I said, but I wasn't in very good shape to argue. Eventually, Shiara got me back on my feet. The cat was still waiting for us, but as soon as we moved in its direction it started walking again. I decided Shiara was right and concentrated on walking.

I don't know how far we followed the cat. It seemed like a long way, but anything would have seemed like a long way at that point. My arm hurt, and every muscle in my body felt shaky. I never quite dropped the sword, but a couple of times I came close. After a while I stopped thinking about it. Finally Shiara stopped moving.

"I was about ready for another rest," I said fuzzily. "Is the cat still around?"

"This isn't a rest," Shiara said. "We're here."

I looked up. We were standing in front of a neat gray house with a wide porch and a red roof. A wisp of smoke was coming out of the chimney, and whatever was cooking smelled delicious. Over the door was a black-and-gold sign in block letters that read, "NONE OF THIS NONSENSE, PLEASE."

I'm going to like whoever lives here. I thought The door of the house was closed, but the black-and-white cat jumped up on the porch and scratched at it. A moment later, the door swung partway open and the cat disappeared inside.

5

In Which They Meet a Witch

We stayed where we were for a minute, waiting. I don't think either one of us really knew what to do next. A few seconds after the cat vanished, the door opened the rest of the way and the owner of the house appeared.

She wore a very loose black robe with long sleeves and a small pair of glasses with rectangular lenses. She was considerably shorter than I was, though she obviously wasn't a dwarf; she managed to look down her nose at both of us anyway. Standing on the porch helped, I think.

"It's about time you got here," she said.

"Do you know anything about healing?" Shiara demanded.

"Of course I do, or I wouldn't have sent Quiz out to get you," said the woman.

"Quiz?"

"The cat. Do you plan to stand there all day? I certainly can't do anything for you while you're outside."

So we went inside. The porch steps didn't creak. Neither did the porch, and the hinges of the door didn't squeak at all. I didn't think they would dare.

The inside of the house seemed to consist of a single large, airy room full of cats. I counted five before I stopped. Several of the cats had furniture under them, and there was a table in the middle of the room and another door next to the stove in the corner.

The woman in the black robe shooed two cats off of chairs, and Shiara and I sat down at the table. Shiara looked at me. "You can put that stupid sword down now. No one's going to take it."

"No." I didn't know why I wanted to hold on to the sword, and I didn't have enough energy to explain it if I had known. I just knew I wanted it in my hand.

"Sword?" said the woman in black. "Oh, that sword. It's quite proper of you to keep it for now. If I may see your hand?" She came over next to me and examined my right arm while I carefully didn't watch.

Oddly enough, it didn't hurt when she touched it. After a minute or so, she nodded.

'Just as I thought. This could have been very bad, but you got here in plenty of time." She went over to a cupboard by the stove and took out a piece of something that looked like dried vine. She brought it back to me and tied it around my arm, muttering something as she did.

Suddenly my head wasn't fuzzy anymore.

"That should take care of things for the time being," she said, "and in a little while I can take care of the magic. Then we can pack the burns with salve. Would you like some cider while you wait?"

I nodded.

Shiara frowned. "Can't you do anything right away?"

"I have done something," the woman said. She set three mugs on the table, all different. "Several things, in fact. I sent Quiz out to bring you here, and I have stopped the damage from spreading. I have also made gingerbread, which should finish baking any minute now."

"Gingerbread?" Shiara blinked. "Daystar is hurt! Why are you baking gingerbread?"

"For you to eat," Morwen said. "Why, were you expecting me to make a house out of it?"

"Well, no, but-Oh, never mind the gingerbread! How did you know to send a cat out for us? Who are you, anyway?"

The woman looked through her glasses. "I know a lot of things. I'm a witch. My name is Morwen. And you?" She stopped. The cats looked at us.

"Pleased to meet you," I said. "This is Shiara, and I'm Daystar."

"why do we have to wait?" Shiara asked again.

"Mixing magic and cooking is never a good idea," Morwen said. "Don't worry, the gingerbread won't take much longer." She got out a large jug and began pouring the contents into the mugs. "There!" she said as she set the jug down. "Help yourselves. I'll be back in a minute."

Morwen went over to the second door and opened it. I got a glimpse of a small yard with a square garden, a well, and two more cats. Then the door closed with a swish of black robe. I stared at my mug, wondering how I was going to pick it up without putting my sword down. Then I heard a sniffle and turned my head. Shiara was not crying. Much.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"It's all my f-fault!" Shiara said miserably. "If you hadn't been with me, you wouldn't have run into that wizard at all, and if I hadn't insisted on hiding that stupid staff, your hand wouldn't have gotten . . ." Her voice trailed off into snuffles. I sighed.

"If you want my handkerchief, you'll have to get it out yourself," I said. "And it's probably still pretty wet. But you can have it if you want it."

That made Shiara look like she was really going to burst into tears.

Fortunately, just then the door opened and the witch came back in.

When she saw Shiara, she set down the plants she was carrying and produced a large black handkerchief from somewhere inside her sleeve.

"That is quite enough of that," she said, handing the handkerchief to Shiara. "It does nothing constructive, it makes everyone else feel bad, and it is extremely self-indulgent. Drink your cider. You'll feel much better."

Just then one of the cats made a loud noise, sort of a cross between a purr and a meow. "Good, the gingerbread is done," Morwen said. She got it out of the oven and gave us each a piece. Shiara looked much better by that time, even if she still didn't seem really happy.

Morwen put a large pot of water on the stove and then started sorting through the plants she had brought in. After a minute, she frowned.

"Two sprays or three?" she muttered. "I suppose I'd better look it up."

She put the plants down and went out again. A few seconds later, she came back holding a book. I saw a roomful of shelves behind her before the door closed.

I blinked. My head didn't feel fuzzy, but I was sure that a minute ago that door had led out to the yard. I looked around the room, but there weren't any other doors, except the one we'd come in through. Finally I decided to ask.

"Excuse me, Morwen, but would you mind telling me where that door leads?"

Morwen stuck a finger in the book and looked up. "Wherever I want to get to. What good is a door if you can't get somewhere useful by walking through it? Within reason, of course." She went back to the book.