“Not today,” Audun said, wondering if the cat was for sale, too.
Although Audun had seen many interesting things, he had yet to find something he liked. True, the object was supposed to be for a man, not a dragon, but Audun was waiting to find something special. He was passing a stand where a wizened, little old woman was selling shoes when he overheard a loud man’s voice saying, “I don’t care if you have phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. I need dragon parts. You wouldn’t have any dragon scales, would you? Or perhaps a talon or two?”
A rack displaying necklaces made from various kinds of fangs and teeth stood between him and the customer, so Audun couldn’t see him at first. “And why would you want a dragon scale?” asked the woman. “Don’t you know that dragons never shed their scales? The only way you can get one is if they give it to you or they die and you pry it off them. You want some idiot to risk life and limb so you can pretend you killed a dragon?”
“Humph!” the man declared. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, you knucklehead! But I can’t believe you don’t have the scales, at least. Dragons have an impeccable sense of direction. You carry one of their scales and with the right spell you can find anything, including people. Anyone with half a brain in his head knows the real value of a dragon scale! A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Now you’ve wasted my time!”
Audun’s stomach churned at the thought of the man’s shopping list. He half-expected to see some sort of horrible monster when the man stepped away from the stand and Audun saw his face for the first time. His skin was weathered as if from long exposure to the sun. A drooping mustache blended into a short beard, nearly concealing his mouth. Both mustache and beard were white, as was the fringe of hair rimming his shiny, bald scalp. It’s the wizard who made the mosaic speak in East Aridia! Audun thought, and gasped.
Turning away, the wizard glanced at Audun and saw his horrified expression. “What’s wrong with you?” the old man asked. “You look as if I’d asked her to skin your mother.”
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . . ,” Audun began. Too appalled and upset to think of what to say, he fled, unaware that the old man was still watching him.
Suddenly, the market no longer seemed quite so much fun. Audun wanted to leave. He would buy something . . . anything . . . for the self-indulgent man, and go back to the dragon stronghold as soon as he could. To think that there were monsters walking around loose who would kill a dragon for its scales . . .
Thinking back on everything he’d seen, Audun decided to return to the stall where the man was selling bottomless tankards. Any self-indulgent man would surely love a tankard that never went dry. He was on his way there and was passing a stand displaying magic swords when he saw the old man’s reflection in one of the shiny blades; the wizard was following him.
A large group of people were coming down the aisle, laughing and talking as they headed for the food stalls. Audun waited until they had almost reached him before stepping into their group, leaving the wizard stuck behind them. When he thought the man couldn’t see him anymore, Audun slipped between two stalls and into the next row, where he had to wait for a procession of goats pulling heavy carts.
A stand selling seeds displayed its wares only a few feet from Audun. giant seeds! read one sign. buyer beware! read another. Smaller signs on each box described the contents within. There were beans for giant beanstalks for visiting friendly giants, peas for giant pea pods that could be turned into boats, pumpkin seeds for those wanting a new coach or small cottage, as well as onion seeds for recluses who wanted to keep everyone away from their cottages.
Audun stared blankly at the seeds as he tried to decide what to do. He had to get the tankard—it was the reason he had come and he wasn’t about to go back empty-handed—but he didn’t like the way the bald-headed man was following him.
“So what will it be?” asked a voice. Audun turned around. The bald-headed man had come up behind him and was studying the young dragon-turned-man the way a physician might a patient. “They don’t sell seeds for gunga beans or hot flami-peppers here,” the man said, smirking.
“I’ve never heard of either of them,” said Audun, edging away.
The wizard followed him, sniffing. Audun was glad he’d used the giant’s lotion and didn’t smell anything like a dragon. When the man frowned and looked down at Audun’s hands, the young dragon was grateful that Song had made him take off the ring, for this man acted as if he might actually know what it meant.
“I say we shouldn’t take them, Ratinki,” a woman at a nearby stall declared. Audun turned at the sound of the familiar voice. The two women who had flown their brooms out to meet him at the castle in Upper Montevista were standing in front of the magic-arrow seller and they both looked angry. “The last arrows we bought from him kept coming back,” continued Klorine. “Who’s to say these will be any better?”
“But those arrows were supposed to come back!” said the stall owner, a tall, thin man with a long, crooked nose. “That’s what made them so special. They were reusable arrows that you didn’t have to look for. They returned to their owners when a magic word was spoken.”
“And spitted them like trout on a stick!” exclaimed Ratinki.
The man glanced around, his eyes becoming frantic when he saw how many people had stopped to listen. “That’s why I included a free shield with each purchase of ten arrows or more! Your soldiers were supposed to use the shields to catch them!”
“Well, they didn’t! They used their bodies instead. Come on, Klorine, let’s go find some arrows that work,” Ratinki said, and the two witches turned away. “We have a big order to place, but we’re not getting them here.”
“I told you I’d give you three bundles of my new arrows to replace the ones you didn’t like,” the stall owner called after them. “Three bundles! That’s a good deal. These new arrows glow when the archer says a magic word. It makes them easy to find after a battle.”
“Glow schmo,” grumbled Ratinki, as the two women neared Audun. “We need arrows that hit their target, not look pretty lying on the ground.”
It occurred to Audun that the two witches might help him get away. Although he found it difficult to lie, that didn’t mean he couldn’t find a way to use the truth to his advantage. He waited until Klorine and Ratinki were close before stepping in front of them, saying, “Ladies, I wonder if I might ask you a question? Do either of you know why dragon scales are considered to be so special?”
“Because they’re tough!” snapped Ratinki.
“Because they’re pretty?” asked Klorine.
Audun shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s right about you two ladies.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Ratinki.
Audun stepped aside so the women could see the balding man behind him. “This man says that anyone with half a brain knows the real value of a dragon scale lies in its ability to help you find things!” he said, quoting the old wizard.
“He does, does he?” Ratinki said. “Why, if it isn’t Ole-bald Wizard. Half a brain, huh?” The old witch advanced on Olebald and began stabbing him in the chest with one of her knobby, crooked fingers. “I’ll tell you who the idiot is, you old sack of hot air! Why, I remember the time when you . . .”
As Audun joined a family group walking past, he couldn’t help but smile at the look of frustration on Olebald’s face. The old man was trying to speak, but neither of the witches would let him.
With Olebald no longer dogging his heels, Audun hurried to the stand where the tankards were being sold. Hoping to be gone before the wizard found him again, he plunked down his money, snatched one of the tankards, and dashed to the fountain.
“Stop,” shouted the owner of the stall. Then he glanced down at the money and didn’t say another word.
“That was awful,” Audun muttered, as he reached for the lip of the fountain. “I hope I never have to go shopping again!”
Fifteen
A heartbeat later,
Audun opened his eyes and found himself standing beside the tapestry in his grandmother’s rooms with his finger still touching the picture of the fountain. He jerked his hand away as if the tapestry could burn him, and bumped into a slender statue of a dragon. The statue clattered to the floor, but luckily didn’t break. A moment later his grandmother poked her head through the doorway.
“You’re back!” she said, her eyes alight. “How did it go? Did you get the gift?”
Audun held up the tankard, saying, “I got a bottomless tankard. I hope it’s good enough.”
“It should do very well,” said Song. “How was your visit to the marketplace? Did you have any problems passing yourself off as a human?”
Audun paused long enough to turn back into the more comfortable form of a dragon, then nodded and said, “There was an old man. I knew he was a wizard because I’d seen him doing magic. He acted suspicious, and I’m pretty sure he thought I wasn’t a human. I caught him looking at my hands and sniffing me. He followed me around until I got two witches to distract him.”
Song of the Glacier sighed. “I was afraid something like this might happen. Humans never can mind their own business, especially the ones with magic. I want you to tell me exactly what happened. This may be nothing, or it may mean we’re in real trouble.”
The young dragon told his grandmother how he’d overheard the wizard asking about dragon scales and how he’d followed Audun. She looked interested when he told her about the two witches, but it wasn’t until he told her that they’d called the man Olebald Wizard that she really looked worried and began to pace the width of the room.
“What did he do when you left the stall?” she asked, turning around. “Did he follow you again?”
“Not that I saw,” said Audun. “But then, I didn’t stay around to make sure. I bought the tankard and came straight back here.”
“I don’t know many wizards,” Song said, pacing again, “but even I’ve heard of Olebald. He’s a tricky old man without many scruples who’d do just about anything to get what he wants. If he really suspects that you might be a dragon, he might try to follow you. Humans are always looking for dragon lairs. Sometimes it’s to steal our treasures. Other times it’s to steal pieces of our bodies in the hope of tapping into our magic. Even the skull of a dead dragon has a powerful magic that few wizards can match.
“I’m not sure Olebald has the necessary magic to follow you here, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a few precautions. Roll up the tapestry and bring it with you. We need to put it somewhere safe.”
“Like in a treasure chest?” asked Audun, as he rolled the tapestry into a long tube.
“That might work,” said Song, “but I was thinking more of tossing it into a deep pit or setting it adrift on an ice floe. Hurry. We might not have much time.”
Audun gathered up the tapestry and followed his grandmother out the door in time to hear her call to the guards. The two guards on duty came lumbering around the corner with Frostybreath close behind. “We may have a problem,” Song told them. “A wizard may be coming here through my tapestry.”
“Can we destroy the tapestry before he gets here?” asked one of the guards.
Song shook her head. “Magic tapestries are not easily destroyed.”
“Audun!” called a feminine voice. He looked away from his grandmother, who was still explaining the problem to the guards, and saw Hildie hurrying down the corridor. “I heard you might be here,” the young dragoness said, brushing past the big dragons. “We need to talk.”
“This isn’t a good time, Hildie,” Audun replied, noting that the guards’ expressions were turning fierce as Song told them about the wizard.
“That’s what you always say!” Hildie yelled. “The last time you were here you said we would talk the next time you came and you’re here now! You’re not getting out of talking to me this time!”
“Audun,” said his grandmother, “we need to go now. The guards think the ice floe is our best option.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Hildie,” Audun said, shouldering the tapestry as he tried to walk around her.
Hildie stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “You’re not going anywhere until we talk about this! I have to know—are you going to declare yourself, or am I going to have to choose one of my other suitors?”
Audun was so surprised that he fumbled the tapestry and almost dropped it. “I’m sorry, but there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. I never was one of your suitors and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I might be. I think you’re a wonderful dragoness, but I’m in love with someone else.”
“I thought that might be it! Is it one of the dragonesses here? It isn’t Patula, is it? Why, I’ll . . .”
“No, Hildie, it’s not. She’s not anyone you know. It’s—”
A heavy weight hit Audun’s shoulder, almost knocking him down. “Audun, watch out!” his grandmother screamed.
The weight was still there, so the young dragon rose onto his back legs and heaved the thing off. Olebald went flying and hit the wall with a thunk. Audun was backing away when the old wizard staggered to his feet, shaking his head and swearing. The two dragon guards converged on the wizard, who raised a gnarled magic wand and waved it in their direction. A gray haze filled the air and the guards began floundering around as if they couldn’t see.
Olebald had turned toward Audun when Frostybreath sprang in front of him and exhaled at the wizard. The air crackled around him as his beard turned stiff and cold and frost sparkled on his bald head. Olebald’s movements were slowed, but he was still able to raise his wand. Frostybreath exhaled again. A thicker layer of ice formed on the old man, and he grew still, his eyes glazed over.
“I don’t know how long this is going to last,” said Frostybreath. “I thought one breath would be enough to hold him.”
“Watch him,” said Song. “If he so much as twitches, breathe on him again. We’re going to have to find somewhere we can lock him away where he can’t get out. As for you, Audun,” she said, turning to her grandson, “give me the tapestry. You have to leave before the old fool can cause any more trouble.”
Gesturing for the young dragon to follow her, she led the way back into her suite of rooms and closed the door. “Take this,” she said, handing him the tankard and a sack to put it in, “and go to the capital of Aridia. Look for the human girl who doesn’t belong. She’s an orphan and we believe she’s living in the castle.”
“Song of the Glacier!” shouted Frostybreath. “He’s moving!”
“Then breathe on him until he’s an ice cube!” she called back. Turning to Audun one last time, she pointed at a door he hadn’t noticed before. “That will take you to another corridor. I don’t have time to tell you anything else. Go now—and hurry!”
Sixteen
The royal castle of Aridia had been built with thick walls and blocky towers to withstand the desert storms. Tall dunes had settled against the walls of Desidaria, making it almost indistinguishable from the desert itself. As Audun circled the city from a distance, he wondered if the presence of the dunes had helped or hindered the invading army.
In early evening Audun landed behind a dune not far from the main road into Desidaria. Burying himself in the sand so that only his face was exposed, he waited until the gates were closed and the caravans that arrived too late to gain entrance had begun to set up camp for the night. He was about to crawl out of the dune when he realized that anyone riding a magic carpet would be able to see him from above, so he waited until dark, when the traffic in flying carpets had died down, before he shook off the sand and turned into a human.
Careful to avoid the more heavily guarded camps, Audun slipped among the tents looking for groups that seemed to feel safe enough to relax and enjoy themselves. While the men sat by the fire drinking and telling stories in increasingly loud voices, Audun rifled through their saddle-bags until he found the clothes and coins he was seeking. He was sneaking out of the camp when he over
heard a man telling the others about what life had been like under the old king.
“King Cadmus was fair, I’ll give him that much,” the man said in a gruff voice. “My brother worked in his kitchens for twenty years. He said Cadmus cared about his people and always made sure no one went hungry.”
“He had to,” said a man with a whiny voice. “He was stingy with his wages, despite his hoard of precious gems. Cadmus’s, brother, Dolon, pays better. I’m glad he’s king now. I’ve heard he’s hiring, which is why I’ve come looking for work.”
“Cadmus wasn’t stingy. He was careful with the royal treasury. Mark my words—Dolon’ll spend it inside a year.”
“You can bet Dolon won’t be spending his money on paying work crews to push the dunes back,” said the man with the gruff voice. “He’ll get King Beltran’s wizard to do it. He’s nearly as old as the last wizard we had and I’ve heard that he’s almost as powerful.”
“I have no stomach for wizards,” whined the second man, “but wizard or no, I’m going to get a job in the castle. It’s the best pay around and no one else is hiring. I heard Smugsby, the steward, is the man to see.”
“That’s right,” said a different man. “Just make sure you take him something good. The better the gift, the better the job.”
Some of the men left the campfire after that and Audun had to hurry to get out of their way. As he hid behind one of the tents with the clothes and coins he’d stolen, two men went past, talking in voices so low that no one, other than a dragon, could have heard them. “I don’t know much about King Dolon,” murmured one of the men, “but I doubt he’ll run out of money soon. His men contacted me last week to say that my nephew had been orphaned and I needed to come get him. It took me a few days to gather the money. They called it a gift for King Dolon, but for all their demanding ways and the amount of money they want, it’s ransom if you ask me.”