Calling on Dragons Read Free Page B

glared at the other two and lashed her tail. “
If
I may continue . . . ?”
    â€œNobody’s stopping you,” Scorn said, and to show her complete indifference she bent sideways and began washing her side.
    â€œWe 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.”
    â€œStupid 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.”
    â€œSo you couldn’t resist tearing off after him.” Morwen shook her head.
    â€œHe was heading for the garden,” Chaos said, avoiding her eyes. “We were just doing our job.”
    â€œMurgatroyd and Aunt Ophelia stayed in back, in case the rabbit showed up,” Miss Eliza Tudor offered.
    â€œAt least that much was well done,” Morwen said. “I think—”
    â€œMorwen? 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.”
    â€œI thought you and Murgatroyd were watching for rabbits,” Morwen said.
    â€œWe found one,” said the tortoiseshell. “And I think you had better go look at it.”
    â€œI suppose it’s got fangs,” Scorn said, looking down her nose. “Or webbed feet.”
    â€œYou needn’t sneer at Ophelia,” Miss Eliza said. “The last one I chased out of the sweet peas had both.”
    â€œWhere is this interesting rabbit?” Morwen asked.
    â€œHeading 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.
    â€œMurgatroyd?”
    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!”
    â€œI suspected as much,” Morwen said. “Exactly where—”
    â€œHere,” said a deep, mournful voice. “I’m stuck.”
    â€œIf you break any of those branches, Morwen’ll turn you into a lizard,” Murgatroyd yelled from the apple.
    â€œLizards?” said Fiddlesticks from behind Morwen. “But I thought she was doing mice now.”
    â€œQuiet,” Morwen said without looking back. “You in the lilac, hold still. Murgatroyd, stop making him nervous.” She opened the gate