Dragon on a Pedestal Read Online Free PDF Page B

This was sheer delight to the melons. Because they were growing magically rapidly, they drewtheir water fast. The first cloud touched by a sprouting seed was sucked dry in an instant; it shrank and shriveled and disappeared with a breezy sigh. The others suffered similarly.
    One larger cloud, with a silvery crown above, made a fight of it. This was evidently the leader of the pack. The king cloud reached out and enclosed the watermelon plant in vapor, so that it disappeared. But the watermelon only took in more water greedily, its tendrils threading through the cloud, and soon the embrace was reversed. The cloud disappeared, and a monstrous melon formed and plummeted to the distant ground.
    One fragment of cloud tore free at the last moment and scudded away, its contrail between its legs. “I’ll get even!” it seemed to mouth before it floated over the horizon. “You haven’t seen the last of me, solid creature!”
    Irene smiled. It would be a long time before that survivor harassed travelers again. “Dry up, King Cloud!” she called mockingly as it disappeared behind a hill. She had gotten into the habit of talking back to the inanimate, because of the way it talked back to her when she was with Dor. Rocks and other things on the ground could be especially obnoxious when she stepped over them.
    There was a splat from below, and a bellow. The melon had struck a firedog basking below and very nearly put out the poor creature’s fire.
    The scattered remaining clouds had learned their lesson; they no longer intruded on Irene’s flying space. That was just as well; her long association with Dor had taught her how to deal with the inanimate, but she was now out of watermelon seeds and wasn’t sure what she would have done for a follow-up. After all, this had been a business and pleasure excursion when they had set off for the Zombie Master’s castle; she had left most of her weapons-grade seeds behind.
    She flew directly to the Good Magician’s castle without further interruption. Trees and lakes and hills passed by below; it was pretty enough scenery, but she knew there were a number of unpretty monsters lurking in it. That made her nervous again for the welfare of her daughter. The jungles of unexplored Xanth were no place for a three-year-old child!
    Her steed descended, becoming uncertain. Irene’s brow furrowed; what was the problem? The turret of Humfrey’s castle showed clearly in the vale. She nudged the plant onward, going for a landing on a convenient parapet.
    The castle looked different from its configuration of the past—but that was normal. It always changed. How Humfrey managed this she had never discovered; it was just part of his magic. As the Magician of Information, he obviously had information on how to revise castles periodically. The talent of a Magician was always impressive, once the full extent of it was known. Too bad there were so few of that caliber! Her daughter’s talent hadnot yet been classified by the Elders, but Irene had the depressing feeling that it was not Magician level. Ivy’s presence tended to enhance the qualities of others; that was nice for the others, but what did it do for Ivy herself? Now if Ivy could enhance her own abilities, what a creature she might become! But that was a foolish daydream.
    Daydream? “Hello, Imbri!” Irene said and fancied she saw the flick of the day mare’s tail as a return greeting. Irene had come to know Mare Imbrium as a night mare, but now Imbri had become the bearer of the dreams of the day, which were much more pleasant. The mare was invisible; most people never knew when she was present. It didn’t occur to them that dreams of any kind had to be formulated somewhere and be brought by someone. Dream duty was an often thankless task.
    “Thank you for the dream, Imbri!” Irene called belatedly. But the mare had already gone. A creature had to be constantly on the move to keep up with the delivery schedule for daydreams, since so many