Calling on Dragons Read Free

growled.
    â€œHe had no business there,” the white cat added primly. “He’s not one of
us,
after all. So we thought we would drive him away.”
    â€œStupid creature was babbling something about a rabbit,” the calico cat said with a disdainful look at the black cat. “As if that was any excuse.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you call me?” Trouble demanded. “I never get to have any fun.” Radiating hurt pride, he stalked to the far end of the porch and disappeared into a large clump of beebalm.
    â€œYou know, people have been trying to perfect a universal cat-translating spell for years,” Archaniz said to Morwen in a dry tone. She glanced at the cats on the porch railing. “If you
do
come up with one, I’d like a copy for myself.”
    â€œNosy old biddy,” said the calico cat.
    â€œOn second thought, perhaps it would be better if I left things as they are,” Morwen said.
    â€œBeing disagreeable, are they?” Archaniz said knowingly. “It’s only to be expected. Who ever heard of a polite cat?”
    The black cat hissed. “Grendel!” said Archaniz. “Behave yourself. It wasn’t that bad, and besides, you can use the exercise.”
    â€œHe certainly can,” said the calico cat.
    â€œWhat’s all this racket?” rumbled a low, sleepy cat voice from under the porch. “Dash it, can’t a fellow take a nap in peace?” A moment later, a long cream-and-silver cat oozed around the steps to blink at the growing assembly above him.
    â€œThat’s another thing, Morwen,” Archaniz said, scowling at the newcomer. “Cats and witches go together, I admit. And I know they’re a big help with your spells, but one really ought to observe some reasonable limits.”
    â€œI do,” said Morwen. All nine cats were useful, particularly when it came to working long, involved spells that required both concentration and power. Nine cats working together could channel a lot of magic. To explain all this would sound uncomfortably like bragging, however, so Morwen only added, “Anyway, I like cats.”
    â€œShe is simply jealous because we’re all smarter than
he
is,” the white cat informed Morwen with a look at the black cat on Archaniz’s shoulder.
    â€œWhat, all of you?” Morwen said, raising an eyebrow.
    â€œAll of us,” the white cat said firmly. “Even Fiddlesticks.”
    â€œI’m very smart,” Fiddlesticks agreed. “I’m
lots
smarter than Fatso there. Don’t you think I’m smart, Morwen?”
    Grendel hissed and bunched together as if he were preparing to launch himself from Archaniz’s shoulder. Hastily, Archaniz put up her free hand to hold him back. “Perhaps I had better leave now,” she said. “We can finish our discussion some other—”
    â€œThere’s a big garden show coming up in Lower Sandis,” Morwen said thoughtfully. “Why doesn’t the Deadly Nightshade Garden Club enter an exhibit? If we all work together, we should be able to put together something quite impressive.”
    Archaniz considered. “Monkshood and snakeroot and so on? In a large black tent.”
    â€œAnd if everyone sends one or two really exotic things—”
    â€œMorwen, you’re a genius! People will talk about it for years, and that Airy McAiling Grinny person won’t have a leg to stand on.”
    â€œI don’t think it will be that simple,” Morwen cautioned. “But an exhibit will buy us time to find out why he’s so interested in making witches do things
his
way. And stop him.”
    â€œOf course,” the Chairwitch said happily. “Let’s see—Kanikak grows Midnight fire-flowers, and I have half a dozen Giant Weaselweeds. If I can talk Wully into letting us use her smokeblossoms . . .”
    â€œI’ll contribute two Black Diamond snake lilies and an