And thinking about time reminded me that I didn't have long before Eleni would get moving into her role in this plan—which was striking me as more and more lame by the minute. How many minutes had I dawdled in here already?
I opted for impersonating the shadow of the Hunchback of Notre Dame—standing, though crookedly, so that my shape merged as much as possible into the real shadows thrown by the crates and equipment and buckets of sand that Vediss had in here for his glassmaking experiments.
To anyone watching—which, hopefully, was just the dragon—I would have looked like a spastic Quasimodo. Once I passed the tables where the elves sat, I kept glancing forward in the direction I was heading, to lessen the probability of tripping over something. Then I would quickly glance back to make sure Vediss and Berrech were still occupied, then twitch my head to the side to make sure the other elf wasn't looking, then forward again. Whiplash was a real possibility.
Still, my precautions were worthwhile, for I caught the moment when Berrech's head jerked up. Luckily, he was facing the entrance, so in the time it took for his head to swivel in my direction, I'd crouched and frozen.
Had I made a noise?
"What?" his father asked.
Berrech stood, and turned his eyes toward my end of the cave. But at least he didn't go for his sword. Nor come any closer. For the time being.
His father repeated, "What?"
"Don't know," Berrech said. "The lights flickered. Or at least one of them."
Now all three elves were looking in my basic direction. The henchman elf started toward me.
Stupid, stupid, I chided myself. I'd stepped between them and one of the globes of light as though I were as insubstantial as I was supposed to look.
The dragon flicked its tail, which it hadn't done before, aiming it so that it passed in front of one of the witchlights, and this time I noticed the slight flicker. The creature wore a smug expression as if trying to keep from grinning outright, like it was pleased that it had done something which had caused the elves to jump. Then, as though suddenly realizing that they were watching, it tucked its tail beneath itself. Speaking in a voice that somehow reminded me of lava bubbling out from a volcano (not, of course, that I've ever personally heard lava bubbling out from a volcano), the dragon suggested, "Perhaps one of you passed gas that caused a momentary dimming of the lights?"
Vediss wasn't the only one who could scowl like his shorts were caught somewhere they shouldn't be. Berrech said: "You may be about to outlive your usefulness, worm."
Worm? I thought. Geez, he doesn't like anybody besides other elves—and he doesn't like half of them, either.
"If you're going to kill me anyway," the dragon said, still slow and steady, like a geologic force, "then what will I lose by incinerating you now?" Suddenly, gracefully—despite all that mass and those short chains—it was on its feet, and it shot a blow-torchlike flame out of its mouth, between the advancing hench-elf and where Berrech and Vediss stood. On the table where the elves had been eating, what was left of their meal went up like flaming cherries jubilee.
The two thoughts that collided in my head were:
(1) Larry's pathetic little spreenie-trying-to-make-a-dragon-whoosh sounded just about nothing like the real thing; and
(2) Very precise aim!
The hench-elf put his little elf butt into reverse. A moment later he went and fetched a pail of sand that he threw onto the table to smother the flames before the table as well as the food started burning, but we all knew that hadn't been the first thought to cross his mind.
Vediss was trying to make peace. "Now, now, dragon. No reason to talk like that. Of course we aren't planning to kill you. I gave my word we would let you go when we finished, and we will. My son was only speaking in hasty irritation. Bear in mind that the situation is as it ever was since I captured you: If you kill us, with no one knowing you're here, you'll have starved to death by the time the other dragons find you next laying season. Starving is such a long death."
No wonder the poor creature was willing to work for them, on the off chance that they might let it live.
The dragon whipped its tail around itself and once more settled down with its chin on its paws. Waiting. We could all tell it was waiting.
Me, too: I waited for the elves to settle down, to stop stealing glances in the dragon's direction and, therefore, in mine.
My knees were beginning to stiffen. If I didn't move soon, my legs were apt to fall asleep and be unsteady. I eased myself up the wall, bending to follow the contours eroded eons ago by the sea when the tides had come in higher up the shore.
From outside the cave came a bloodcurdling scream.
I gasped, remembering—even as I did—that it was part of the plan.
Fortunately, everyone else gasped at the same time—minus the imperturbable dragon, of course—so no one noticed me.
"Wolf!" Though she was outside, Eleni's voice reverberated in the cave. "Wolf! Wolf! Somebody please help me!" This was followed by a scream so frightened and tormented it sounded as though she was even now having major body parts torn off.
Too late.
Or too early.
Depending on if you meant me or Eleni. I was supposed to have talked to the dragon and/or Julian by now. I was supposed to have found a key to unlock the iron collar and/or the cage. I was supposed to use this distraction to quickly unlock something or other.
Vediss, Berrech, and the remaining elf scrambled for their weapons.
The dragon, in a whisper so intense it smoked, hissed at me, "The shelf."
Shelf?
It nodded its massive head at a piece of board, on the far side of the cave from me, balanced on two crates.
Keys. A ring with two keys.
There was no time for skulking about. The elves were as distracted as the plan called for them to be. I dashed across the open floor to the shelf and snatched up the ring.
But old habits die hard.
I glanced back to make sure nobody was watching. The hench-elf and Vediss were not in sight, presumably having already made it outside to investigate what was making Eleni continue to scream. Berrech had his back to me and was just about to step through the cave entryway when Larry swooped in.
Larry didn't see Berrech.
Or, rather, Larry didn't see Berrech as Berrech—since he was still wearing those form-confusing glasses. He appeared, to anyone who didn't know better, to be Julian.
In the chaos of someone being attacked, Berrech probably wouldn't have noticed a little wren.
Except that the wren hovered, very unwrenlike, in his face and spoke.
With all of Eleni's screaming, I couldn't hear what Larry said, but it must have been something like: Julian, we're here to rescue you.
Berrech skidded to a stop. Gaped at the wren. Then swiveled around to check out Julian, who had gotten to his feet at the sound of all that disturbance and was standing clutching the bars of the cave, watching him.
The next place Berrech's gaze landed was on me.
25. Einstein's Theory of Relativity Didn't Include Bad Relatives
My brain seemed to be working at something like the speed of light, but my motor control didn't seem to be working at all.
Berrech pulled out a knife and flung it at me. It was heading straight for my face with me knowing there was no way I could drop to the ground in time to avoid it.
Which is no reason for you to stand there like a bulls-eye waiting for it, I told myself.
But as the knife sped toward me, I couldn't even close my eyes.
Which was okay, because then I would have missed the moment when the dragon incinerated it midair.
The dragon must have been able to sniff out my real species; either that or something about my shadow shape labeled me as human, not elf or any of the other choices possible in this world. In any case, in the moment it took Berrech to realize his weapon had not killed me but was settling to the ground in a fine ash, the dragon called to me, "Human girl,
will you be more or less inclined to unlock these chains if I cremate that elf?"
"No!" Julian cried. "Don't!" Then squinting in my direction he guessed, "Wendy?" and explained, "He's my kinsman."
The dragon wasn't interested in Julian's opinion and was watching me. From my position on the floor, where I'd finally dropped to make myself a smaller target, I figured, C'mon, Julian, he's your cousin, but besides using me for target practice, he's been threatening to cut you into pieces. All in all, the kind of guy who gives relatives a bad name.
Larry, seeing what looked like two Julians—one of whom was flinging sharp, pointed objects at me—picked up on the fact that something was wrong. Larry did what Larry did best: He shot out of that cave faster than a carnival's human cannonball.
Berrech was striding across the cave to come get me, but—much as I didn't want him to get me—I couldn't bring myself to tell the dragon, Yeah, all right, barbecue him.
"Try not to," I told the dragon.
The dragon, looking deeply disappointed in my decision, blasted flame not at Berrech, but at the worktable which stood between him and us.
Berrech took a hasty step back. Actually, many hasty steps back, until one more step would have taken him out of the cave altogether. "Father!" he yelled. "Merrindin! It's a trick! Get back in here!"
I popped up just long enough to grab the keys off the shelf suspended between the two crates. In the interest of time, since the flames that were keeping Berrech at bay were already subsiding, I called, "Julian, catch!" and flung the keys with such precision he would have needed an arm about six feet long to catch them.
The dragon, never taking its gaze off Berrech, said in its deep, grumbly voice, "Remember this," and swung its tail across the floor, sweeping the keys to within Julian's reach.
Julian got the cage door open just as the two other elves—Berrech's father, Vediss, and the elf whose name, apparently, was Merrindin—came back into the cave. Merrindin dragged Eleni with him, forcing her ahead of him as a shield, the blade of his knife under her chin.
Oh no, I thought. Oh no, oh no, oh no. And that was without even making it as far as thinking that if she died, I would cease to exist.
"Drop the keys," Berrech ordered Julian, "or the girl's death is on your hands."
Eleni still wore Tiffanie's elf shepherdess glamour, and obviously nobody knew who she was, but it had to be pretty clear to everyone that the pretty elf shepherdess and the shadow were working together to rescue Julian. I saw her eyes scan the room. Saw the hopelessness in her expression when she found me in plain sight and realized I would not be jumping out of any corners to be of help.
Eleni pointed out what I was too afraid to admit to myself: "He'll kill me in any case."
"No," Vediss said, and I took it as a bad sign that it was Vediss, and not Berrech, who offered that assurance.
The dragon apparently decided I had no more to offer at this point and shifted its attention to Julian. "Unchain me and I can make them pay for her death and get you out of here before the others return." When Julian didn't respond, the dragon said, "We can bring the human girl disguised as a shadow, too"—then, hedging its bets, added, "if you want."
"No," Julian said, soft as a sigh.
But before I could think, It's been fun knowing you, too, he said to the elves, "Let the girls go, and I'll surrender without a fight," and I realized he was refusing the dragon's offer in its entirety.
"You'll surrender in any case," Berrech said.
Julian had to know that Eleni and I were less than useless to Berrech and that we were already as good as dead, and that he probably was, too, and that his best chance was the dragon. But he let the keys drop to the floor.
Now it was the dragon's turn to sigh, a smoky, bubbling-lava sound.
I could knock over one of these crates of sand, I thought, and have the dragon ignite it, sending molten glass oozing across the floor....
On the other hand, oozing is not a real dynamic split-second-timing, escape-type word. And oozing where? Toward Eleni?
Then, apparently, the dragon decided:
(a) There was no reason it should be bound by elven scruples; or
(b) It had nothing to lose; or maybe
(c) Both.
It opened its jaws wide and directed a blast of furnace flames at the elves.
"No!" I screamed, for one of those elves still held my grandmother.
Even if the dragon would have heeded me—and there was no reason why it should—my voice was lost in the sound of the rush of fire.
It wasn't my love for my grandmother or second thoughts by the dragon that spared her—it was a matter of the mathematics of force, velocity, and distance: The elves were beyond the dragon's range. Just barely.
Of course, they didn't immediately know that.
Startled, they flinched. They recoiled.
They stopped paying close attention to Eleni.
Eleni jabbed her elbow into Merrindin's side and at the same time twisted away from the knife he'd let dip away from her throat. He staggered, off balance, and she got her leg behind his and swept it out from under him so that he fell, flat on his back, pulling her down, with her landing on top of him, the knife clattering harmlessly to the floor.
Berrech and Vediss were so busy dodging the flames that hadn't reached them, they didn't notice what had happened until Eleni was scrambling to her feet, supporting her weight with her hand shoved deep into Merrindin's stomach. Fortunately, he was too dazed from cracking his head on the ground to put up a fight.
"Can't catch me!" Eleni taunted, just to make sure they were aware of her escaping, then she dashed out of the cave to draw them—I knew her well enough to guess her reasoning—away from me.
"Stop her!" Berrech ordered—maybe Merrindin or maybe his father. But since Merrindin wasn't moving, just rolling around a bit moaning, it was Vediss who took off after her.
Julian, meanwhile, had covered the distance from the back of the cave to the cave entrance in what had to be a world record, and launched himself onto Berrech, even as Berrech picked up Merrindin's fallen knife.
Scooping the keys off the floor, I told the dragon, "You remember this."
And all the while I was thinking I'm standing next to a dragon. I'm letting a dragon loose. I wondered if it would feel indebted to us and stick around to help more, or if it would figure it had already helped enough and just light out of there, or if it would be ticked off at all the inept dithering that had gone on and take out its frustrations on all of us.
I got the collar loose, and the dragon surged forward.
Julian rolled out of the way—hard to tell if he saw or heard the dragon coming, or if that was just a natural move in his struggle with the knife-wielding Berrech. Whichever, it left a momentary opening for the dragon, who seized hold of Berrech, its huge claw covering his entire back, its talons spread from the elf's shoulders to his waist but not—at least for the moment—puncturing him. The dragon shook Berrech with obvious glee, sending the glasses flying.
Berrech—once again looking like himself—screamed, but I figured that had to be in terror, not pain, for the dragon obviously could have squeezed the life out of him in a heartbeat.
We all came stumbling out of the cave: the dragon holding on to Berrech, with Julian and I directly behind, tripping over Merrindin, who—despite the knock on the head—retained enough sense to know when it was time to just stay put. That time was when the dragon leaned its face close and hissed in a whisper of volcanic steam, "Don't even think about standing up."
On the beach outside, we saw that Vediss had caught up to Eleni but was having trouble holding on to her. Part of the problem was that she was flailing and kicking. But another distraction Vediss faced was that there was a brave little wren who—woodpecker-like—kept attacking the back of his head.
Just then Brave Heart the wolf came tearing over the crest of one of the sand dunes. Fur bristling, fangs gleaming, he obviously was intent on hurling himself at
Vediss.
The dragon beat him to it, and grabbed Vediss in a similar hold to the one he had on Berrech.
Brave Heart spun around, sending sand flying, but he didn't have to go back for Tiffanie: She was just straggling into view. She slowed down when she saw everything was under control—more or less—and the measure of her exhaustion was that she let all our glamours fall away—including her own, so that she was back to looking like a hundred-year-old witch who had just spent the last fifteen minutes running up and down the hilly beach.
Over the dunes, the two elves who had been hunting Brave Heart came into sight. They took one look at us—or rather, they took one look at the dragon, and tore back over those dunes even faster than they had come.
Julian had his left hand tight on his right forearm, and the stupid thought crossed my mind that he was taking his pulse, which I thought was pretty superfluous, but then I saw the blood running down his arm and I realized maybe he hadn't been winning that scuffle with Berrech over the knife.
I still had Eleni's handkerchief, which she had given me for my knee, and I took it out of my pocket. "Very unsanitary, I know," I pointed out to him, as it had my blood on it, but I figured a risk of germs was better than his bleeding to death in front of me.
"Thank you," he said, still breathing hard as I tightened the makeshift bandage around his arm.
I hadn't realized until then that I apparently have a weakness for sweaty, bleeding elves who have just recently saved me from never being born.
Sweaty, bleeding gracious elves, I realized as soon as Tiffanie finally reached us.
She put her hand on his arm, and the flow of blood, which my pathetic attempt at helping had only slowed down, now stopped. Beneath the bandage, his wound had no doubt disappeared as entirely as the one on my knee that Tiffanie had healed. Much more useful than my silly already-used handkerchief.