The Blood of a Dragon

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Upon consideration, Teneria realized that effective privacy would not actually be all that hard to obtain, since the children spoke no Ethsharitic-only the adults had to be avoided. When Kensher and the older children were out checking on the livestock after dinner, and the younger children were playing with the spriggan, and Pancha was in the kitchen putting away dishes, a little judicious witchcraft allowed Teneria to get Dumery away from Kinner and Seldis.

Dumery hadn’t really noticed yet that the two of them were alone in the front room until Teneria demanded, “All right, Dumery, what are you up to?”

Startled, Dumery said, “I don’t know what you mean.” He eyed the young woman he was beginning to think of as his captor and wondered how much she knew. The stories he had heard were vague on whether witches could read one’s thoughts, or merely sense moods.

“I know you’re up tosomething,” she said. “I’m a witch, remember? Now, suppose you tell me all about it.”

“All aboutwhat?” Dumery persisted, still unsure of his best course of action.

Teneria put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You know what.”

“No, I don’t,” Dumery said, trying to look puzzled.

Teneria let out an exasperated sigh. “All right, then,” she said, “let’s take it a step at a time. What are you doing up here in the mountains of Aldagmor, instead of safe at home on with your parents?”

That was no secret any more, so there was no harm in telling the truth. “I followed Kensher,” Dumery said. “I wanted to arrange an apprenticeship with him. I saw him selling dragon’s blood to Thetheran the Mage back in Ethshar, and I decided I wanted to get into the dragon’s blood business, too. So I followed him here, and asked him.”

“And he turned you down,” Teneria said. She could see that from Dumery’s attitude, and she could even see the reason-Kensher had eleven children of his own.

“That’s right,” Dumery agreed. “He turned me down.”

“So now you’re just going to go quietly home with me, I suppose,” Teneria said sarcastically.

Dumery ignored the sarcasm and nodded, trying to look innocent.

Teneria was disgusted. “Right,” she said. “You know perfectly well that that wasn’t what you were planning at all.”

“Well...”

“So what were you planning?”

Dumery stood obstinately silent.

Teneria sighed again. “Suppose,” she said, “that your parents had instructed me to do whatever I can to see that you get what you came after, be it an apprenticeship or whatever. Would you still be standing there like that?”

“They didn’t, did they?” He sounded very doubtful indeed.

“Not exactly,” Teneria admitted. “But they do want you to be happy, Dumery, and to find a career you’ll enjoy. I don’t think they’d object to dragon-farming. Now, did you have some scheme for getting an apprenticeship dragon-farming, after all?”

“No,” Dumery said. “There isn’t any way. Kensher won’t listen to me, and there aren’t any other dragon-farmers.”

Teneria was glad to see that Dumery was telling the truth. “So it’s not that,”

she said. She eyed him carefully.

He was tall for his age, but very thin, with a very stubborn set to his jaw.

His mind was not easily pried at-she could see at a glance that he was very closed and self-contained, and could never have become a witch.

A thought struck her. The boy had been desperate to become a magician, and here he was in Aldagmor, where, she now knew, the source of one kind of magic was to be found. “Is it something to do with the Warlock Stone?” she asked.

“The what?” Dumery answered, baffled.

No, it wasn’t that; Teneria could see that the boy had never heard the term before.

Back to other matters, then. “Something to do with dragons?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

“Dragons,” she said. “Something to do with dragons.” She considered him carefully.

“Not hunting them, I hope?” She had a rough idea how dangerous dragon-hunting might be; she could hardly say she’d fulfilled her task of seeing that Dumery was safe if she let him go off hunting the great beasts.

“No,” he said, and she knew that he was telling the truth.

“It’s something you feel guilty about, though,” she said. That much was obvious. “Something dangerous?”

He shook his head.

Teneria frowned. That was a half-truth. Dumery thought it might be risky, somehow, but he didn’t think it should bereally dangerous. That didn’t tell her much.

This was all very tiresome. He obviously wasn’t going to tell her if he could possibly avoid doing so, and she couldn’t read it from him, and it might take hours, or days, to guess it. She glowered at him for a moment, then changed her approach.

“Is there anything you wanted to ask me?” she asked.

Startled, Dumery studied her carefully and considered his response.

She was a witch, but he had only a vague idea of what sort of magic witches used-he had mostly heard of healings and divinations, and didn’t know much about how those worked. He had always been more interested in wizardry and the other, more prestigious varieties of magic, not the rather plebian witchcraft.

And she was a girl, almost a woman-he wasn’t sure whether to consider her a grown-up or not.

She was working for his parents, so he had been thinking of her as being on their side, on the side of rules and regulations and authority, but might that be a mistake?

He couldn’t very well ask her straight out, “Are you going to stop me from committing a robbery?”

Maybe he could sort of feel her out, though. And there was something that he wondered about.

“What’s the Warlock Stone?” he asked.

Teneria was caught off-guard, and hesitated for a moment.

Well, why not? What harm could it do?

“It’s the source for all the warlocks’ magic. It’s somewhere in Aldagmor, to the southeast of here.”

“Really?”

Teneria could clearly see the boy’s sudden interest in this news, which was not at all what she had wanted. She sighed again.

“Listen, Dumery, forget it,” she told him. “You can’t get near it. No one can. It kills anyone who gets too close.I don’t dare get much closer than I am right here and now-magicians are more susceptible.”

“Oh,” Dumery said. He thought that over.

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but on the other hand, if it reallywere approachable, and if people knew where it was, and if it was really any use, then someone else would have gone there by now, and it would all be in the hands of others. After all, warlocks had been around since before he was born.

So that was out, and he was back to his former scheme.

“You’re a witch, right?” he asked.

Teneria nodded. “An apprentice, anyway.”

“Have you ever put a curse on anyone?” Maybe she wasn’t a total goody-goody.

Maybe she’d go along with a little adventure.

“No,” she said, dashing his hopes. “Witches don’t do curses.”

“They do in the stories...” Dumery began.

“All right,” Teneria said, exasperated, “I don’t do curses. And I never met a witch who did, either, but maybe there are some.”

“Oh.” Dumery shut up. It was clear to him that a person who wouldn’t deal in curses was not the sort to go along with a burglary scheme.

Teneria glared at him. The boy was infuriating! And it appeared that she wasn’t going to learn anything else useful from him.

“All right, look,” she said, “whatever you’ve got in mind, just forget it, all right? Tomorrow morning we’re starting back down the mountain, taking you home to Ethshar. You can find an apprenticeship of some kind there.”

Dumery didn’t answer.

They glowered at one another for a moment, then marched away in opposite directions.

Later that night, as the household began to settle down, Dumery considered the situation.

He had intended to take his leave, go down the mountain until he was out of sight, then slip back up at night.

He couldn’t do that while in Teneria’s care, though. He would have to make his move that very night, while everyone was asleep, before he and Teneria were thrown together for good.

He had also planned to flee down the trail to the river, the same way he had come, but now he decided against it. If he did that, Teneria would come after him and find him, almost certainly. She was a witch, after all, and had found him way up here in the mountains of Aldagmor.

He could escape her, though. He saw exactly how he could escape her. If he headed south or southeast, toward the Warlock Stone she had spoken of, she wouldn’t dare follow. The thing would kill her.

It wouldn’t kill him, though, because he wasn’t a magician. Or at least, it wouldn’t kill him unless he got really close, which he would try not to do.

And the possibility that he might stumble on the Stone by accident-well, that was a chance he’d take.

And if he did, who knew? Maybe Teneria was wrong and he would wind up a warlock after all.

It didn’t seem very likely, though.

He hadn’t really planned everything out yet, but there was no time to spare, with Teneria here. He would just have to improvise, deal with problems as they arose.

As soon as he was sure everyone was asleep, he would go.

He lay back and waited.