Calling on Dragons - Wrede Patricia Collins - Страница 3

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Miss Eliza, Scorn, and Chaos were sitting in the kitchen, trying to look as if they were waiting for something interesting to happen and not as if they were doing as Morwen had told them. The only one who managed it was Scorn, who had jumped up onto the bench below the side window and begun washing her face. When Morwen entered, she looked up briefly and then returned to washing. In contrast, Chaos jumped guiltily and Miss Eliza Tudor looked away. There was no sign of Fiddlesticks.

"Archaniz has left, and Grendel has gone with her," Morwen said, setting the paint on the table. "Now, which of you three would like to begin?"

"Begin what?" Chaos asked warily.

Scorn stopped washing and snorted. "Don't be dense. She wants to know about our chasing Grendel."

"We have already explained that," Miss Eliza said.

"Not to my satisfaction," Morwen said. "You know better than to pick a fight with another witch's cat. At least, I thought you did."

"It's our job to keep things out of the garden," Chaos said, looking up with his green eyes wide. "That's all we were doing."

Morwen sighed. "Well, at least I don't have to ask who started it.

What happened, exactly?"

The cats exchanged looks. "We were out by the back fence, the three of us and Aunt Ophelia and Murgatroyd," Miss Eliza said. "Chaos was in the apple tree-"

"As usual," Scorn put in. "You'd think it belonged to him."

"-and he saw that witch swoop down over the hill behind the house.

He said he saw her cat jump off the broomstick-" "Probably looking for that blue catnip that grows on the far side," Scorn said. "Grendel's a little too fond of his nibbles, if you ask me."

"Nobody did," said Chaos.

Miss Eliza glared at the other two and lashed her tail. "If I may continue… ?"

"Nobody's stopping you," Scorn said, and to show her complete indifference she bent sideways and began washing her side.

"We were concerned," Miss Eliza went on. "It seemed unusual. A minute or two later, while we were discussing whether to do anything about it, that black cat came tearing over the hill and down toward the garden, shouting about some rabbit."

"Stupid excuse for a cat," Chaos muttered. "Running away from a rabbit! I ask you!"

Scorn merely snorted expressively.

Miss Eliza looked at them. "While I do not like all these interruptions, I must confess that I agree with you. It is not the kind of behavior one hopes for in a cat."

"So you couldn't resist tearing off after him." Morwen shook her head.

"He was heading for the garden," Chaos said, avoiding her eyes. "We were just doing our job."

"Murgatroyd and Aunt Ophelia stayed in back, in case the rabbit showed up," Miss Eliza Tudor offered.

"At least that much was well done," Morwen said. "I think-" "Morwen? Morwen? Open the door and let me in. Morwen?" The new cat voice floated in through the back window.

With a faint frown, Morwen crossed to the far door and opened it.

Immediately, Aunt Ophelia, a spiky tortoiseshell cat, shot through the opening and bounded onto a chair. "Thank goodness! I was afraid you weren't going to hear me."

"I thought you and Murgatroyd were watching for rabbits," Morwen said.

"We found one," said the tortoiseshell. "And I think you had better go look at it."

"I suppose it's got fangs," Scorn said, looking down her nose. "Or webbed feet."

"You needn't sneer at Ophelia," Miss Eliza said. "The last one I chased out of the sweetpeas had both."

"Where is this interesting rabbit?" Morwen asked.

"Heading for the back fence," Aunt Ophelia said with poorly concealed relief. "Murgatroyd is in Chaos's apple tree, keeping an eye on it."

Morwen nodded and went out onto the back step. The garden seemed neat and peaceful, the square beds of vegetables on the left, the more exotic plants and herbs on the right. A shoulder-high row of new apple trees marched along the rear of the vegetable beds, just inside the picket fence.

The first was just beginning to leaf out, the second was speckled with white blossoms, the third held a half-dozen marble-sized green fruit, and the fourth was beginning to drop its dark, rust-colored leaves as if in preparation for winter. At the far end of the garden stood a much older tree, heavily laden with apples that were just turning red.

Below it, the back gate led out onto a grassy hill. An enormous lilac bush, nearly as tall as the apple tree, leaned over the fence on the right side of the gate.

There was no sign of Murgatroyd or of the interesting rabbit, so Morwen started toward the gate. Halfway there, she heard a thump and the top of the lilac thrashed violently.

"Murgatroyd?"

A loud hiss from the apple tree was followed by more thrashing in the lilac. "Get back, you, you-you rabbit!" snarled Murgatroyd's voice.

"I warn you! Watch out, Morwen, it's in the lilac!"

"I suspected as much," Morwen said. "Exactly where-" "Here," said a deep, mournful voice. "I'm stuck."

"If you break any of those branches, Morwen'll turn you into a lizard," Murgatroyd yelled from the apple.

"Lizards?" said Fiddlesticks from behind Morwen. "But I thought she was doing mice now."

"Quiet," Morwen said without looking back. "You in the lilac, hold still. Murgatroyd, stop making him nervous." She opened the gate and went slowly around the end of the lilac. "Now, then-good heavens."

Standing on the far side of the lilac was an enormous white rabbit. He was at least six feet tall, not counting the ears that drooped miserably down his back. Apart from his size, he did not seem unusual to Morwen: he had bright black eyes, a pink nose, and long whiskers.

His front paw was caught in the branches of the lilac bush.

"I don't suppose you can do anything about this," the rabbit said gloomily. He tugged at his paw and the top of the lilac waved wildly to and fro.

From the apple tree, Murgatroyd hissed again. The rabbit cringed.

"Stop that, both of you," Morwen commanded. "I think I can help if you'll hold still. What is your name, by the way?"

"Killer," said the rabbit in the same melancholy tone.

Morwen blinked, then shook her head. Rabbits had the oddest ideas about appropriate names. Perhaps it was because they had to come up with so many of them. She peered into the tangled heart of the lilac, then reached through the outer branches and tapped one of the fat trunks at the center.

With a reluctant creak, the trunk bent slowly outward, freeing Killer's paw.

"My goodness," said the rabbit. He looked at his paw as if he were not quite sure it was properly attached, then shook it, then wiggled its toes. "My goodness gracious. Thank you very much, ma'am."

"Morwen. And I would still like that explanation."

A low, warning growl of agreement came out of the apple tree, and a moment later Murgatroyd scrambled down through the apple's branches to the fence rail.

Killer gave the cat a nervous look and began backing away. "It isn't a very interesting story. I'm sure you all have better things to do."

"All?" Morwen glanced back over her shoulder. Fiddlesticks, Miss Eliza, Aunt Ophelia, Jasmine, Trouble, Chaos, and Scorn were lined up in a long row at the bottom of the garden, staring at the rabbit. They made an intimidating picture. When Morwen looked at Killer again, he had retreated another couple of feet. Morwen glared.

"I, ah, was just going," said the rabbit. "You see, I'm late."

"For what?" Morwen demanded.

"Something important, I'm sure. Not that it matters. I'm always late, you see. It runs in the family; my brother even got himself a big gold pocket watch, and he still can't get anywhere on time."

"In that case, it won't matter if you're a little later. How did you happen to get caught in my lilac bush?"

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