Where Magic Rules

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  “An unappealing lot,” Phillip said. “You took your time in getting back.”

  “Just as well. I took them unawares.”

  “A good thing for you,” Phillip said tartly.

  Joe realized he was staring at her. She looked like an Amazon warrior standing there bare-breasted, her blood-spattered shirt in tatters. Her eyes held a wild gleam, and her hand gripped Ulric’s bloody sword.

  Joe looked away hastily. “There’s an extra shirt in my pack if you need it.”

  “I have my other one,” she said, striding over to her own pack.

  “I’ll just get my things,” Joe said, and he headed back to retrieve his pack. He took his time, and called out from behind a tree before he approached.

  “Phillip? Can I come back now?”

  She answered affirmatively, and Joe walked back down the trail to find her buttoning her spare shirt. He didn’t see the one the outlaws had torn off of her, and he concluded she must have used it to bind her breasts. The attempt wasn’t entirely successful, as the bulky shirt made her look more buxom rather than less.

  Joe turned his attention to the dead outlaws. They had carried one large pack between them, but it had nothing of value in it except half a loaf of bread, a sack of turnips, and a pair of silver candlesticks.

  “They were truly outlaws,” Joe said. “Thieves as well as rapists.”

  “Very likely,” Phillip said. “They wear no lord’s livery and yet they went armed.”

  “The question is,” Joe said, looking over at the bodies, “what do we do with them now?”

  “Leave them. They wouldn’t have taken any trouble for us.”

  It sounded callous. “Maybe not,” Joe said. “But if we leave the corpses here to rot, it’ll draw scavengers. It would be tragic if anyone were hurt or killed because they stumbled across a pack of wolves in a feeding frenzy.”

  Phillip didn’t look persuaded, but Joe couldn’t tell if she didn’t believe such an event was likely, or if she didn’t consider the possibility a tragedy. “We have no tools to dig graves,”

  “Let’s get them off the trail at least,” Joe said.

  In the end, they stripped all three bodies of their weapons and dragged them into the woods. When Joe saw that the hillside dropped precipitously into a gully, he directed Philip to help him tip the bodies over the edge.

  As soon as the third body had slid down the hillside, Phillip trudged back to the wide place in the trail and began inspecting the dead men’s swords. After hefting each and trying the balance, she settled on Max’s blade as the best.

  “You do very well with a sword,” Joe said. “It doesn’t come naturally to me.”

  Phillip looked faintly contemptuous. “Soldiers must be very soft in your world.”

  The disparagement in her tone stung him. “Don’t be so quick to judge. You don’t have much to go on.”

  Her smile radiated confidence. “I could take you easily.”

  The smile irked Joe as much as her words. “Are you certain enough to try a fight my way?”

  “Your way?”

  He nodded. “No knives, no swords, no weapons of any kind.”

  “You mean a fist fight?” She didn’t look worried as she shed her new sword belt.

  “I didn’t say a fist fight. I only said no weapons.”

  “What other kind of unarmed combat is there?”

  “It’s called karate,” Joe said as he shed his own belt.

  “I never heard of karate.” Phillip pronounced the unfamiliar word carefully.

  “Are you afraid to try it?”

  “No! With a weapon or without, I’m not afraid of you.”

  They faced off where the trail was widest. Phillip took the offensive, but Joe evaded all her efforts to strike him.

  “You’re fast,” she said in irritation, “but you’ll never win that way.”

  Joe smiled, turned as if he were going to move to his left, and then whirled around and leaped in the air at the same time, coming down in a fast axe kick that hit Phillip right in the stomach.

  “Oof!” she said, doubling over.

  Joe backed off. “Are you okay?”

  “What’s okay?” she gasped. “I don’t surrender, if that’s your question.”

  “It just means all right,” Joe said. “I forget sometimes and use English words. You sure you want to keep going?”

  “Yes!” she said, lunging at him suddenly.

  Joe spun out of the way and caught her by the arm as she rushed past, flipping her over his hip and onto the ground.

  Phillip scrambled to her feet and let out a stream of invective that ended in a wish for Joe to die a terrible death.

  “Hush, now,” Joe said. “Save your breath.”

  She attacked several times, but Joe always managed to kick or throw her without incurring any damage himself.

  “Give up?” he asked as Phillip struggled to her feet.

  “No!” She lunged again.

  After he threw her to the ground, Joe jumped on her back and held her down with her arms pinned behind her. “Now do you give up?”

  “Rot in hell, bastard!”

  He sat up straighter. Every time she tried to twist or turn to dislodge him, Joe would tighten his grip and pull her arms back farther.

  When Phillip screamed in pain, Joe relented.

  “Why don’t you just give up?” he said. “I’ll admit you could skewer me in no time if we were fighting with swords.”

  She gave a convulsive shudder as she tried to move, and then went limp. “All right, I give up.”

  He stood up and offered a hand. She ignored it and got to her feet on her own.

  “We’d better get moving,” Joe said.

  Phillip resumed her weapons and other possessions, and they started off in silence.

  “What do you suppose they were doing in these hills?” Joe said after a while. “There can’t be much loot for the likes of them.”

  She shrugged. “People think dragons hoard treasure. I don’t believe it myself, but some people do.”

  “Do you know much about dragons?”

  She shook her head. “Only what everyone knows. They fly. They breathe fire. They nest in caves. Sometimes they eat people. How about you?”

  “The Great Mage refused to answer any of my questions, so I know less than everyone knows.”

  For the first time since they had stopped to rest, Phillip smiled in genuine amusement. “You’ll learn more very soon, then.”

  Joe smiled back. “It looks like it, doesn’t it?”

  Joe consulted the map after they ate a meal at noon. He concluded that they were very near Dindale Peak. “It looks a little like the picture, don’t you think?”

  Phillip studied the map, and then shrugged. “They all look alike to me.”

  Joe had to agree. “We need someone we can ask directions of—someone local.”

  Phillip glanced around. Except for a few birds and squirrels, nothing moved in the landscape. “There’s no one about.”

  “We’ll just keep going,” Joe said, replacing the map in its case.

  A short while later, a flock of black goats scrambled down the side of the mountain. A large scruffy dog brought up the rear, and a little ways behind him an elderly, gray-haired man leaned on a stick.

  “There we go!” Joe said, cheerfully. “Good day to you, sir!”

  The goatherd didn’t seem pleased to be addressed by strangers, but he answered civilly. When told of their quest, he looked derisive. “Dragons is nonsense. I doesn’t hold with dragons.”

  “You mean you don’t believe they exist?” Joe asked.

  “O‘ course they exist,” the goatherd said. “Hard to deny when I seen one flying about, plain as day, a many a time.”

  “How do we find it?” Phillip asked. “Is it vicious?”

  “Find it?” the old man said. “Stay round about long enough, and the old bastard’ll find you, most like.”

  “You mean it eats people?” J
oe asked.

  “Not no more,” the goatherd said. “Leastaways not since them Dindalers took to feeding it regular.”

  “Where do we find it?” Phillip repeated.

  The goatherd had to be coaxed, but finally he revealed that the dragon had built a nest in a cave some distance up the side of the mountain. The cave could be reached by following a trail that branched off from this one; the turning could be distinguished by round stones piled into a pyramid.

  “A marker it be,” the goatherd added, “for the last young woman what he ate some time ago.”

  “Will the dragon be in the cave now?” Joe asked.

  “Sure enough,” the goatherd said. “He be a crafty old devil, but he likes his nap in the afternoon.”

  Joe found this somehow heartening. They thanked the old man and started up the trail.

  They found the stone pyramid, and then the path up to the cave, less well traveled than the main trail, but visible.

  They had a steep climb, scrambling up the side of the mountain using bushes and roots to pull themselves up. After half an hour the sight of a cave rewarded their efforts. The path led straight to it, and the grass around the entrance was flattened down.

  “This looks like it,” Joe said.

  “Yes.” Phillip didn’t sound eager.

  “You don’t have to go in with me,” Joe said. “You helped me get here. That’s enough.”

  She gave him a contemptuous glare. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll never make it without me.”

  “Okay, then, what do you think is the best approach?”

  She chewed her lip. “If he’s really old, he may be willing to be sensible and let us take the scales. Otherwise, we’ll have to kill him.”

  “The Great Mage doesn’t like it when people kill dragons.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have sent us here to get scales from one,” Phillip said. “I’m going in. I’ll stay as far to the right as I can. You go left. Try to stay hidden as long as possible. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll catch him sleeping.”

  She started for the cave, and Joe followed a little behind her. He wished he could believe they would be lucky.

  The wide cave mouth faced west, so the afternoon sun lighted much of the interior. Joe walked slowly, taking his time and studying the place. Phillip flitted silently to the far wall. When she ducked behind a large boulder, Joe could only see the top of her head.

  The cave was mostly open space, with rocks and boulders strewn about on the floor, and stray bones scattered among them. Joe hoped the bones weren’t human. The only signs of human habitation—clay pots and what looked like stone tools—suggested people hadn’t lived in the cave for a very long time.

  There was nothing that looked like treasure. Almost the only thing that wasn’t rock was an enormous chest-high mound of leaves and branches near the back wall.

  When the leaves rustled, Joe’s heart pounded. The mound was the dragon’s nest, and the dragon was at home!

  Five: A Lesson

  Joe approached cautiously. The dragon lay curled up in serpentine loops, one on top of another, like a neatly coiled pile of rope that had slid out of shape. Its snake-like appearance surprised Joe. Its tail was pointed like a snake’s, and its head, though large for its body, was wedge-shaped. Its scales were much less dense than a snake’s, more like roof tiles than skin. Each iridescent scale gleamed in the faint sunlight, reminding Joe of sheets of mica.

  Unlike dragons in the picture books of his childhood, this dragon’s body never thickened, not anywhere on its great length. It had six limbs, four that resembled an animal’s legs and two that looked more like human arms. All its limbs were muscular, but seemed insignificant when compared to its length. Nicks and scars covered both its bat-like leathery wings, as if they had seen hard use.

  The dragon stretched one enormous wing out and licked the skin like a cat grooming itself. It rooted with its snout, as if it were looking for rough spots that needed to be smoothed down. Once it tugged at a clump of something until it pulled it free.

  After its wings were clean, it folded them neatly across its back, gave a large, awesome sigh, and wriggled down into its nest. It reached down with its mouth and took a small black rock from a pile beside the nest. Tipping its head back, it let the rock drop into its mouth. Crunching contentedly, it lifted its head high. When it lowered its neck, its head came to rest on a large boulder, about ten feet from where Joe crouched.

  “Greetings,” the dragon said. “I didn’t see you there at first—not until the wind shifted, and I smelled a human.”

  It took Joe a moment to realize that there had been no sound. The dragon hadn’t made any noise, let alone spoken. The words had simply popped into Joe’s head, in a voice that seemed indubitably masculine.

  “It’s a pretty nifty trick, isn’t it?” the dragon reflected, still without speaking a word. “And you’re an outsider, so you’re not easily impressed.”

  Joe felt his skin crawl as he wondered frantically what to do.

  “What can I do for you?” the dragon asked. “Got any villages that need exterminating?”

  The mental tone was almost hopeful. In spite of his fear, Joe began to be amused. “Not at the moment.”

  “Too bad.” The dragon gave another large sigh. “Who’s your friend?”

  “My friend?”

  “The other human over there.” The dragon flicked his large, curling eyelashes at the other side of the cave. “It smells like a woman, but she’s difficult to read.”

  Joe grinned in appreciation of this sentiment. “Might as well come out, Phil.”

  Phillip stood up and stepped out from behind a large boulder, her new sword held at the ready.

  The dragon studied her with interest. “Well, now, you are a surprise.”

  “I can hear you in my head!” Phillip cried, dropping her sword to clutch her ears.

  The dragon was amused. “Of course. How else would a magic being converse?”

  “Are you saying you can do magic?” Joe asked.

  “Certainly.” The dragon stretched his neck out so his head was very close to Phillip. “I expect she can, too. She has the power.”

  Joe was taken aback. “What power?”

  “The power to do magic. All dragons are born with it, but only a few humans.” The dragon gave Joe a condescending gaze. “You can’t learn magic unless it’s in you from the start.”

  Joe swallowed nervously. “Are you saying she’s a mage?”

  “Not yet. She doesn’t know anything. But she could learn.”

  “Stop talking about me!” Phillip took a step closer, her sword forgotten. “You know nothing about me!”

  The dragon blinked once and flicked his long forked tongue. “I can tell a lot about people just from looking at them, especially women.”

  “Why women?” Joe asked. This dragon was nothing like he had expected.

  “Well, I’ve had more experience with women,” the dragon explained reasonably. “I used to have human—er, visitors. You can learn a lot from women when they’re, um, interested.”

  For a moment Joe thought he was talking about eating human prey, and then another, even more revolting, meaning hit him. “You’re making that up!”

  The dragon flapped his folded wings, as if to shrug. “Dragons don’t lie. You can ask her.”

  “It’s true.” Phillip sounded dazed. “They don’t lie.”

  “You really—you and a woman—” Joe couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

  “Dear me, yes! They used to come, two or three every night and wait their turn. It didn’t give me much of a thrill, but it was something to do. The only nearby female dragon isn’t interested in an old crock like me.”

  His self pity was evident. Joe felt curiosity overcome his revulsion. “Are you expecting anyone this evening?”

  “Oh, no.” The dragon’s self pity grew stronger. “They won’t come near me now—not after I killed that girl. I tried to explain to the ot
her one who was waiting, but she just ran down the mountain screaming bloody murder. Quite rude, I thought.”

  “How did you kill her?” Phillip asked.

  The dragon got a reminiscent look in his eye. “It was simple carelessness. I’d begun to undulate and dance to excite her, just like I always did.” The dragon began to weave his coils back and forth in a slow, sinuous, dancing motion. “Just as things got interesting, she happened to clutch a crucial spot just under—that is, a very intimate spot for a dragon. I quite lost my head, and I coiled myself tightly around her, crushing her rib cage like an eggshell. People got upset, especially when they found out that I’d eaten her.”

  “You ate her?” Joe said, horrified.

  “Well, really, what’s the difference?” The dragon was plainly miffed. “She was dead. That’s what meat is—dead things. And I’m always hungry after—that is, I was especially hungry that night.”

  The urge to laugh overwhelmed Joe, even while he wondered how long it had been since the dragon had eaten.

  The dragon didn’t wait for him to ask out loud. “Just this afternoon. I had a very tasty sheep. The villagers leave them for me twice a week, regular as clockwork. It’s part of the truce.”

  “What truce?”

  “We worked things out,” the dragon confided. “They calmed down. If you lie down with a dragon, you have to know there’s a chance you’ll get crushed and eaten. She knew the risks.”

  “So you don’t raid villages anymore?” Joe asked.

  “Oh, no. Too tiring, at my age.” The dragon had been studying Phillip, and he suddenly darted his head back and forth in front of her. “My dear, what is that you’re wearing? I haven’t felt an enchantment that strong in decades!”

  Phillip stepped back a pace and snatched up her sword. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The dragon closed his eyes and swayed his head back and forth. “Oooh, a masculinity spell. Lovely! Just what a feeble old dragon like me could really use!”

  Phillip put one hand over her necklace and stepped back even further, gripping her sword tightly.

  The dragon looked far from feeble. Indeed, he seemed quite excited as he darted his head back and forth from Joe to Phillip. Joe gripped his own sword in alarm.