Dragon's Breath

  “She lives in the mountains of the Icy North,” said Mudine. “She went up there about twenty years ago and as far as I know she’s still there. If anyone can teach you how to cool a hot temper, it’s the Blue Witch.”

  “You aren’t seriously thinking of going, are you, Millie?” Zoë asked her friend. “For all we know, this might be some sort of trap.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do to her—tie a string around her toe and hang her from my rafters?” Mudine slapped her leg and snorted. “That’s a good one, what with her turning into a dragon and all!”

  “You know about that, too?” asked Millie.

  “Everybody in the castle knows about it. Heck, everybody in five kingdoms knows about it now that that chatterbox Maybelle is out spreading the word.”

  Millie groaned and covered her face with her hands. “What am I going to do? The whole world is going to know that I have a bad temper and turn into a dragon at the drop of a pin. Did you know that my mother fell in love with my father when she was fourteen? If I can’t control my temper, I’ll never have anyone. I’ll spend my whole life not knowing what it’s like to fall in love.”

  “Go see the Blue Witch!” said Mudine. “She should be easy to find. Just cross the Bullrush River and head north past the swamp. You’ll come to the foothills after that, and then the mountains. An eagle I know told me that she lives in an ice castle. Shouldn’t take you long if you fly, ’specially if you’re a dragon.”

  Millie stood up and straightened her gown. “Then I’d better get started. I want to be back before my parents are, and it takes them only about a week to make sure a sea monster stays subdued, then another few days to let the town thank them.”

  “Maybe you should wait and talk to your parents about this,” Zoë said. “The Icy North is an awfully long way from here. I bet they’d go with you if you asked.”

  “No, they wouldn’t,” said Millie. “They’d just give me all sorts of reasons why I couldn’t go, and then I never would go and I’d scare away any suitor who came around and end up old and lonely like Mudine.”

  “Hey!” said the old witch.

  “How are you going to get there?” asked Zoë.

  “Fly, of course.”

  Zoë hopped to her feet. “Then you’ll have to wait until you’re angry again. That should give me enough time to get ready. I have to change my clothes.”

  “You’re not coming!” said Millie.

  “Oh, yes, I am!” said Zoë. “You don’t think I’d let you go on an adventure like this without me, do you? My mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you because I wasn’t there to keep you safe. I am supposed to stay with you, remember?”

  “Your parents didn’t know I was going on a trip like this. I’m sure if they had known—”

  “They wouldn’t let you go. Just like Queen Chartreuse and King Limelyn won’t once they find out what you have in mind.”

  “You wouldn’t tell them, would you, Zoë?”

  “How could I tell them if I was with you?”

  “I can’t believe you’d stoop to blackmail,” grumbled Millie. “Fine, I guess you can come along.”

  “Maybe we should say something to Francis. He’ll never forgive us if we don’t tell him what we’re doing.”

  “And how long will that take?”

  “Not long,” said Zoë. “Any chance you know the way to his room?”

  Millie didn’t, but a squire flirting with a maid in the Great Hall did. Although the girls expected to find Francis asleep in bed, he was bent over a book on fighting tactics with a witch’s light bobbing by his shoulder. When they told him about their plan, Francis put down the book and stood up to stretch. “You can count me in. I have everything I need right here,” he said, tapping the acorn he wore on a chain around his neck.

  “Why do you need an acorn?” asked Zoë.

  “It’s like a magical trunk,” said Millie. “He got it at the Magic Marketplace. He has all his stuff in it.”

  “I don’t care if it is magical,” said Zoë. “How much can you fit inside a … Oh, my!”

  Francis had unscrewed the cap on the acorn and reached inside with the tip of his thumb and index finger. He pulled out what appeared to be a red thread, but as it emerged from the acorn, the thread became the corner of a red and blue carpet, worn in places but still sturdy enough to carry two people.

  Millie was delighted. “You brought your magic carpet! You are so clever, Francis! It’s not very big, though, is it?”

  “It’s perfect,” said Zoë. “Now you can go without turning into a dragon first. You two can ride and I can fly.”

  “But I didn’t even say that Francis could come,” said Millie.

  Zoë grinned at Francis. “Just do like I did and say you’ll tell Queen Chartreuse and King Limelyn what she has in mind if she doesn’t let you come.”

  “Zoë!” exclaimed Millie.

  “Good idea,” said Francis. “But I was going to suggest that she might like to have me along because of my fighting prowess and because I have this.” Reaching into his acorn again, Francis pulled out a black dragon scale. “It belonged to my mother, but she gave it to me last year. It can help you find just about anything because dragons are so good at finding things and … Oh, yeah. I guess you wouldn’t need this.”

  “Not really,” said Millie, smiling in a most dragonlike way. “But you can come with us. Zoë and I would enjoy having your company.”

  “And my carpet,” said Francis.

  The royal castle of Upper Montevista was located in the southern end of the mountain range that covered the western half of the kingdom. The mountains were tall, with deep passes between them. A river ran at the bottom of the widest pass, covering a winding trail that had once bordered it.

  High above the river, the winds that whipped the mountainsides were treacherous even at their calmest. Millie hadn’t given them much thought before she and her friends started out, but she soon realized that the trip was probably harder at night when they couldn’t really see where they were going. While Zoë couldn’t fly because of the wind, her bat senses worked just fine, so she clung to the frayed edge of the carpet in front of Francis, telling him when to turn and how far.

  The wind continued to buffet them, nearly smashing the carpet against the rocks at times. They tried to fly lower and trace the course of the river, but at the first cry of a hunting griffin, Francis made the carpet rise until it was too high for even griffins to reach. Millie reveled in the excitement of dipping and soaring, of plummeting so that she felt as if she’d left her stomach behind or turning abruptly to avoid an outcropping that suddenly appeared in front of them. She laughed out loud at the thrill of it, the sound of her laughter lost in the roar of the wind.

  Although it seemed to take forever to reach the end of the mountain range, it was only just past midnight when they left the mountains behind and entered the foothills. With the winds behind them, Zoë was able to fly on her own and took off from the little carpet. Millie glanced at Francis and it occurred to her from the rigid line of his back and the way he gripped the edge of the carpet that he hadn’t enjoyed the ride the way she had.

  “Are you all right?” she asked Francis.

  “Just dandy,” he replied, his voice still a little shaky.

  “Thanks for going with me,” she said, patting him on the back.

  “I couldn’t very well let you go without me,” said Francis. “You’re like my little sister. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

  “Thank you,” Millie said, her voice so soft that she wasn’t sure Francis had heard it. She understood what he meant, because she felt just as close to him. It occurred to her that she hadn’t really been thinking about either her cousin or her friend when she said that they could come. She wasn’t worried about her own safety; even though she couldn’t turn into a dragon whenever she wanted to, the fact that she was a dragon at times had made her feel almost invincible. And
while her cousin had magic, and her friend could be a bat or a vampire at will, Millie didn’t feel that either of them was as strong as she was. She glanced at Francis once more, then at the little bat, feeling responsible for them. They may have come to keep her safe, but it would be up to her to protect them.

  Now that they were out of the mountains’ shadows, the moonlight lit up the night, allowing them to see for miles. Millie was looking at the ribbon of silver that had to be the distant river when Francis said, “What’s that?” and pointed at the ground below.

  Millie peered into the darkness, trying to see what he was talking about. And then she saw it. A troll was charging across the uneven ground, waving an ax in one hand and a spear in the other. She could hear the faint sound of shouting. “Can you go lower?” she asked Francis, and leaned over the edge to watch the troll as the carpet descended.

  At first she had to strain to make out what the troll said, but the lower the carpet went, the better she could hear it. The troll had three heads, one of which was shouting, “I’ll flay him alive!” The other two heads roared in agreement.

  “Maybe we should see who they’re chasing,” said Francis. “It might be some poor, innocent human who needs a brave knight like me to protect him.”

  “I don’t know,” Millie said. “We can’t stop for every little thing. Besides, there’s no telling what might be out there. What if it’s a harpy or an ogre?”

  “We won’t know unless we look,” said Francis. “As a knight, I’m sworn to protect the innocent. It won’t take us too far out of our way. And you don’t need to worry. You know I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Millie said indignantly. “Oh, all right. Go ahead. See what it is. I just hope we don’t regret this.”

  They found the intended victim stumbling down the far side of the next hill. Rocky outcroppings blocked the moonlight, casting a deep shadow over the fleeing figure.

  “I’m taking us lower,” said Francis. “I can’t tell what he—”

  Suddenly, the figure launched itself into the air and grabbed hold of the carpet, dragging it down to the ground. Millie fell off with an oof! while Francis rolled a few yards and hopped to his feet, brandishing his sword.

  “Get back, you knave!” Francis shouted. “Or I’ll slit your gullet from … Oh, it’s Simon-Leo,” he said, sounding disgusted. Lowering his sword, he reached down to help Millie to her feet.

  Millie stood up, rubbing her shoulder. “That figures. What are you doing here, Simon-Leo? Why is that other troll chasing you?”

  The troll head with the neatly combed hair scowled. “It was Leo’s fault,” he said, jerking his chin at the shaggier head. “But then, it always is.”

  “Can you give us a ride?” asked Leo. “We need to get out of here before old Gnarlybones-Hothead-Rumpkin gets his enormous butt over that hill.” One of the two-headed troll’s big, coarse hands gestured behind them while the other began to smooth Simon’s hair.

  “Why did you drag us down?” Francis asked, as the troll bent over to straighten the carpet.

  “Simon said you wouldn’t stop if I didn’t,” said Leo. “Hurry up. We’ve got to go.”

  “He was right,” Francis grumbled under his breath so only Millie could hear him. “Simon-Leo is the last person I would have helped.”

  “I know,” Millie whispered back. “He’s always so awful. Listen, we’ll just give him a ride somewhere and drop him off. Then we can be on our way again.”

  “Are you coming?” asked Simon. “Or should we go without you?” The troll plunked himself in the middle of the carpet, leaving little room for anyone else. Everything about Simon-Leo was wide, from his shoulders to his belly to his feet. He was taller than most trolls, too, a trait he’d probably gotten from his human father.

  Grumbling, Francis took a seat in front while Millie tried to find a place big enough to hold her. “I think my mother told me that Gnarlybones-Hothead-Rumpkin is the commander of your mother’s army. So why is he chasing you?” she asked, squeezing between Francis and the troll as Francis shot Simon-Leo a dirty look.

  “Tell them what you did to him,” Simon said to his other head.

  “He’s making a big fuss over nothing,” said Leo.

  “The carpet won’t go up,” said Francis. “You weigh too much,” he told the troll.

  Simon curled his lip in a sneer. “It’s your cheap carpet.”

  “Or your lousy magic,” said Leo. “Try again.”

  Francis waved his hand over the front fringe of the carpet, muttering to himself. He kept at it until perspiration beaded his forehead. The fringe fluttered, then rose into the air, pulling the rest of the carpet with it. Francis gestured again and the carpet lurched upward, then, with a terrible ripping sound, tore down the middle, dumping everyone on the ground.

  “Ow!” Simon squealed.

  “My carpet!” Francis exclaimed in an anguished voice.

  Zoë zipped down and fluttered around her friends. “Millie, the other troll is coming. He says he’s going to rip off their heads,” she said, circling Simon-Leo, “and stuff them in—”

  “We know,” snapped Simon. “He’s been saying that ever since Leo played a trick on him. Who’s the bat?”

  Millie was the first one on her feet. “That’s Zoë. We can talk later. We’re going to have to outrun the commander.”

  “He’s not after us,” said Francis. “I don’t see why we have to run.” He bent down to pick up the pieces of his carpet, and then dropped them when he saw how they lay limp in his hands. “It’s no good anymore. The magic is gone.” He glared at Simon-Leo. “You have to buy me a new magic carpet.”

  Simon snorted. “Like that’s ever going to happen.”

  The three-headed troll was closer now, its heads shouting threats that were becoming all too clear. “When I get my hands on that half-baked …,” said one voice.

  “I’m going to beat him to a pulp and spread him on my toast!” said another.

  “You hate toast,” shouted a third.

  “You’d better run,” Simon told Millie. He was still talking when Leo, who was controlling the legs, lumbered away. “That dunderhead general won’t like that you tried to help us,” Simon called over his shoulder. “He could turn your brains to jelly with one solid thump.”

  “But we didn’t try to help you,” Francis called. “We’ll tell him that you pulled us out of the sky and—”

  “You’re talking about a troll, Francis,” said Millie. “Do you really think he’ll care?”

  Millie and Francis exchanged a look, and they took off after Simon-Leo. “We have to … do something,” panted Millie as they started up another hill. “Trolls can run … for days, but … we can’t!”

  “What do you … suggest? We could … go in a different direction … from Simon-Leo,” Francis said.

  “And then what if … the commander follows us … instead of Simon-Leo? I meant that … we should distract them … somehow to get … them off our trail. I could … call a dragon … but it might take … a while for it … to get here.”

  Francis shook his head. “Don’t bother. I have … a spell I … can use. My father … made me learn it … in case I ever … got into trouble.”

  Cresting the hill, they had started down the other side when Francis began to recite his spell.

  A dragon roar … is just like thunder

  As it rips … apart the sky.

  Now make it loud … so that they’ll wonder

  If a dragon … is nearby.

  There was a feeble cough, then a low rumbling sound. The shouting behind them didn’t even pause. “Can’t you run any faster?” shouted a voice.

  “Not with this toe. It hurts!”

  “It’s our toe, too, you big baby!”

  Millie and Francis had caught up with Simon-Leo and were already passing him when Simon said, “That’s it? You’re using magic to make sounds? A real wizard would have called up a real dragon!”

  The ru
mbling was getting louder, as if a herd of horses was running across hard-packed ground.

  Francis frowned. “Give it … a minute,” he said before glancing at Millie. “Why isn’t he … short of breath?”

  “Bigger lungs,” said Millie. “My mother said … that’s why their chests … are so broad.”

  “I thought it was … to hold up … their fat heads,” Francis panted.

  “What did you say?” said Simon.

  The first roar sounded like a dragon with asthma, but the next was much louder. It hit them just as they reached the bottom of the hill, knocking them flat on their backs. Zoë tumbled from the sky and lay there, twitching. Everyone covered their ears as best they could, waiting for the roaring to end. When it did, abruptly and without warning, Zoë shook herself and took off, flying back the way they’d come. Francis and Millie were helping Simon-Leo to his feet when she returned, shouting, “He’s gone!”

  “Did she say something?” Francis asked Millie.

  “Huh?” she replied.

  The noise had been so loud that all they could hear was the ringing in their ears. Zoë couldn’t hear them either, so she kept talking. “I saw him running the other way. Did you know that he has a stone toe? It shines in the moonlight. I thought it was pretty, for a troll.”

  Millie’s hearing was just starting to come back. “What’s that about a toe?”

  Zoë, whose hearing had recovered faster than anyone else’s, repeated what she’d already told them.

  Francis snorted. “What did you do to the commander, Leo?”

  The shoulder on Leo’s side shrugged. “It was nothing really. I told him that I’d found a leprechaun’s pot of gold and let him think he’d bullied me into telling him where it was. When he went to look for it, I locked the door into the mountain so he couldn’t come back in. He dug and dug, but never found the gold.”

  “Because there wasn’t any,” said Simon.

  “And then the sun came up and he couldn’t get inside the tunnel so he hid in the hole he’d dug.”

  “For an entire day,” said Simon. “The only part of him that wouldn’t fit was his toe.”