The Lazy Dragon and Bumblespells Wizard (9 page)

She was stunned when Cl'rnce finally spoke. “I like your freckles.”

Moire Ain's heart swelled at hearing a compliment.
There she sat in a robe so faded its color could have been anything to start out with, from brown to blue. With the holes here and there, she thought it looked more like it was made of dust than cloth. And the shoes she'd fashioned out of leaves tied with vines were already falling apart. He had to be seeing the poorest of peasants, and yet he said something nice about her freckles.

“You said you can read?” Cl'rnce asked.

Moire Ain nodded proudly but didn't get a chance to tell about Goodwife Greenfield and the lessons. He went on, “Hazel claims human peasants cannot. Not that there's anything wrong with being a peasant. You're different since you can read, and you're teaching yourself magick!” He laughed like the next part was a joke. One that stung Moire Ain. “Hazel even said peasants need a team of wizards to teach them to come in from the rain. She says wizards may look human, but they aren't.” Cl'rnce stopped and blinked at Moire Ain. His voice took on an apologetic note. “I think she's wrong. Look at you. Wizards had to come from someplace before there were wizard families. Which means the first wizard learned magick all on his own, like you.” He smiled like he'd paid her a huge compliment.

Moire Ain shook off the sting under his words and asked, “You know who the first wizard was? I do.”

Cl'rnce pulled a piece of straw from the haystack and ran it through his fangs like he was cleaning his
teeth. “Really?”

“Did you know that the first wizard was a dr'gon?” Moire Ain held up her book, pointing to a picture of a dr'gon who had clearly just made a banquet table of food appear.

“Can't be,” he said. Drool gathered in the corners of his muzzle. “I ran out of food the first day out. I need food.” He held out his paws for the book.

But Moire Ain couldn't let go of her treasure. She was afraid he'd eat the book. He was licking his lips like he would. She pulled it to her.

“If dr'gons were the first wizards, why would I need a partner? I would be able to do it all myself. I can't.” Cl'rnce snorted.

“Yep. Things have changed, and you said you need a Wizard Partner.” Moire Ain jumped to her feet. “I need a teacher, and since dr'gons were the first ….”

“Don't say wizards. It's just not so. I don't think you can trust your book.”

“Of course I can. It's a
very
good book!” But Moire Ain dropped it into her pouch. She needed the dr'gon. She was sure. And he needed her. Even if he denied it, a proper dr'gon should fly. If he didn't want to be her friend, at least they could trade helping each other.

Cl'rnce's head jerked up. “Did you say
trade
?”

Moire Ain was startled. She hadn't said ‘trade' out loud. How did he know? It didn't matter; she was going
to make this partnership work. He seemed to waver one way and the other. She'd do a little of what his sister did and push him to be her partner.

She put her hands on her hips. “Do you need a wizard or not?” She tried to make her eyes slitty and demanding, like she thought his bossy sister would.

Cl'rnce sighed. “I suppose. As fast as I can run, I only have three days to get to the mountain, and Nasty Sir George is a real nuisance. Truth is that I'm a little turned around on the directions to Ghost Mountain. I guess I need help.”

“Maybe with your flying?” Moire Ain said. “I was just thinking if I could help with that, you could avoid Sir George and get to your mountain fast.”

He looked a little irritated, but he said, “Maybe. Do you know Ghost Mountain?”

She shook her head.

“Well, they say one side looks like a scary face. But I think the only way you can see that face is if you're up in the air. And we have to find the entrance to the inside of the mountain where the Dr'gon Council Chamber, the Uamha, is.”

The list of what she'd need to learn and do was getting long. And according to Cl'rnce, they didn't have much time.

“It's inescapable. I need to fly, and I need magick to fly.” Cl'rnce sighed and looked at her again as if he wanted
to get her book and eat it, or something.

Moire Ain hoped he wasn't convincing himself she was too raw and new at magick and he'd be better off just stealing her book.

“Yeah. I need a partner,” he said. But Cl'rnce looked away from her.

She knew a lie when she heard one. Something about what he'd said was not true. The way he'd stared at her book made her believe he thought he could find something to help himself if he had the book. She wondered why he didn't just take it from her. Hedge-Witch would have. But he wasn't Hedge-Witch. Moire Ain didn't want to believe he was anything like the old crone.

“Say the magick word?” Moire Ain gave him her biggest smile.

“Huh? I thought you were the wizard with the magick.”

“Honestly, you're rude.” She couldn't help frowning at him, even though she was trying to get him in a better mood.

“That's what Hazel says.”

“Really? I'd like to meet her.”

“No, you wouldn't. Trust me.” He eyed her pouch, and she quickly tightened the string closing it.

“The magick word is ….” She waited for him to say it. She wanted him to be that special dr'gon she needed.

Cl'rnce laughed. “Abracadabra!” He smiled.

It wasn't what she hoped for, but his smile made her feel better. “No. It's
please
.”

Raspberries flew overhead cawing. She craned her head around the haystack. “Rotten frog farts!” she said as she scrambled to her feet. “Run!” And she took off in the direction of the village ahead.

For once Cl'rnce didn't argue. He got up and ran after the already speeding Great and Mighty. In five paces he'd caught up with her, grabbed her by the back of the raggedy robe, and tucked her under one arm. Then he sped up to what he liked to call Ultimate Speed but his sister called Layabout-Brother-Sniffed-Out-Food-and-Is-Headed-for-It-Speed. Hazel wasn't completely wrong. He could locate and get to food very efficiently and quickly. Admittedly this journey was the first time he'd used his running ability for anything but food gathering or escaping school or avoiding sister punishment.

“Is Nasty Sir George close behind us?” Cl'rnce huffed.

“He's coming fast!” Great and Mighty's voice slid to him, backward over her legs.

Without thinking, he'd stuck her under his arm, facing to the rear. Which was pretty smart, but then he was exceptionally intelligent, with or without Dr'gon Wiz schooling or books in general. Which reminded
Cl'rnce. “You still have your book?” he asked.

“Of course I ….”

Cl'rnce felt Great and Mighty wiggle, hopefully so she could reassure them both about the book still being in her pouch.

“Uh-oh!”

“What do you mean, uh-oh?”

“My book. It's gone. No. I see it. It's back behind us in the middle of the road. When you grabbed me, you turned me upside down; somehow it fell out of my pouch. Quick. Go back for it.”

Cl'rnce slowed slightly. He had to think. She'd said Nasty Sir George was close. How had the knight caught up? If Cl'rnce turned around and ran back for the book, Nasty Sir George could catch him. The miserable knight had a big rusty sword and a really bad temper. As a rabid dr'gon slayer, he'd do his best to make mincemeat of Cl'rnce. Great and Mighty wanted that book, and admittedly so did Cl'rnce. But maybe he could find another wizard who didn't need a book. Maybe Hazel was wrong, and these villages were full of peasants with magick and books.

And then Great and Mighty ruined everything. “Please, Cl'rnce. Please, go back and get my book. It's the only thing I have.”

Cl'rnce stopped. This was crazy. She was crazy. He couldn't do this. He should just dump her and run away,
but … he couldn't. Gently, he put the little want-to-be wizard down on the dusty road. He couldn't look at her. He knew from the sniffling that she was getting all soppy. He just couldn't allow that.

Cl'rnce took a deep breath, pushed his shoulders back so he stood his full twelve feet. “Stay here. I'll get your book.” He sucked in a second, not-as-steady breath and said in a slightly shaky voice, “And I'll take care of that dratted knight.”

“Roar at him!” Great and Mighty shouted.

“Roar?” Cl'rnce stared at the figure moving blurringly fast toward them. From the way the sun reflected off different areas of the figure, Cl'rnce was certain it couldn't be anyone but Nasty Sir George and his slapped-together armor. How could the knight have run fast enough to almost catch up, especially in all his clunkiness?

“Yeah, roar. Like a really angry and powerful dr'gon. That should scare Sir George.”

Cl'rnce glanced at Great and Mighty. She wiped muddy streaks off her face, which once wiped didn't have quite as many freckles as it had before. A smile jerked at her mouth. “You can do it, Cl'rnce,” she said.

No one in his whole life had said that to him. No one had needed him like she did. No one had believed in him. This was getting complicated. Cl'rnce tried to remind himself that he was just a selfish lout who wanted the book and not the wizard. He only wanted that
book so he could get rid of the Whisper Stone, do his duty and order everybody else to do the Primus work, get Hazel off his back, and return to sleeping the afternoons away by the riverside.

But it wasn't working. He wasn't thinking about the book or naps when he started to run down the road at the knight and the book. He wasn't thinking about going back to being alone with no friends to worry about when he sped up to Ultimate Speed. He wasn't thinking about dumping Great and Mighty for one flying spell in the book when he drew in a huge breath and roared as loudly as he'd ever roared. Louder than the time Hazel snuck up on him and clamped a super angry and tenacious crocodile onto Cl'rnce's tail.

What he was thinking was seeing a smile on Great and Mighty's freckles-and-smudge face. He was thinking how it would make her happy if she really became a wizard. He was thinking how he'd never made a friend before, and how it wouldn't be so bad if she became his partner. Not that he needed one, but maybe.

Cl'rnce charged at Nasty Sir George, sucking hotter and hotter breath and roaring louder and louder. Cl'rnce was almost up to the book when he saw why Nasty Sir George had traveled so fast. The mismatched knight was riding a goblin horse. Faster than any dr'gon, goblin horses were made of fury and wind. They were warriors so feared that even dr'gons would rather fly away than
fight them. Which Cl'rnce couldn't do. He skidded to a stop. “Rotten frog farts! Now what?” There was no way he was going to tangle with the goblin steed.

But Nasty Sir George and his horse never slowed. The goblin mount charged ahead, its bare, smoking head ducked down like a bull bent on goring Cl'rnce. One scratch from a goblin horse's horns could immobilize a dr'gon. Which would give Nasty Sir George plenty of time to capture Cl'rnce and behead him.

Cl'rnce stood his ground, counting the pounding hoofbeats of the horse. At the rate it raced ahead, it would be on him in ten, nine, eight …. At the last second, Cl'rnce danced to one side, and horse and rider rushed past. Cl'rnce had gotten particularly good at this maneuver when dodging his vengeful sister. His timing was honed by years of practice. He really should thank Hazel for the training.

Cl'rnce laughed when he turned to watch the horse and rider. But instead of turning to challenge him again, they continued in a straight line leading to Great and Mighty. “Run!” Cl'rnce screamed in a voice that was more panic and less bravado.

But the little wizard-to-be stood as still as a statue. It was as if she was paralyzed in fear. Cl'rnce sucked in an angry hot breath and took off to catch up with the goblin horse and Nasty Sir George.

As fast as Cl'rnce could run, he was no match for the
horse. This certainly explained how Nasty Sir George had kept up with Cl'rnce over the last two days. Cl'rnce wasn't going to get to Great and Mighty in time. If only he could fly. For no good reason, since he'd only just met this little Great and Mighty, he wanted the power to get her out of danger.

For the first time in his life, Cl'rnce's eyes got blurry. Probably an allergy to all the dust the horse kicked up with its burnt iron hooves. Cl'rnce had never cried, so that wasn't it. He snorted up his runny nose and wiped at his leaky eyes, still racing as fast as he could go. The horse and knight were almost on top of Great and Mighty. “Run! Please,
RUN!
” Cl'rnce screamed again.

But Great and Mighty did not move.

When the horse was only fifty paces away, she raised her arms and chanted. Cl'rnce could only see her lips move. He couldn't hear her words over his own screaming. She had failed with her Be-Still spell before. How could she think she could do anything now? Why didn't she escape? Maybe she'd dart out of the way at the last minute like he had. Cl'rnce hoped.

The horse was only twenty-five paces from the little wizard-to-be. Cl'rnce roared. He'd never roared so deep and loud. His own horns shook. He felt out-of-control anger so big he wanted to stop that horse and rider, to kill them if he had to. Everyone thought Hazel was right when she said he was afraid of his own shadow and
couldn't hurt a fly. Cl'rnce didn't argue. Then again, he'd never been angry enough to hurt a fly before.

For no good reason, because really and truly he'd just met this girl, and really and truly he didn't need her slowing him down and tagging along, Cl'rnce roared out lava hot, booming. To his roar he added what he'd known in his heart of hearts was sleeping deep inside him. Fire. He'd never spit anything but sparks before. He felt he was too clever to resort to brutality when he could irritate and infuriate Hazel and anyone else without much effort by just using his wits. But for no good reason, really and truly, Cl'rnce spit a flame so large it was taller than the knight sitting atop the horse, and wider than the horse.