The Lazy Dragon and Bumblespells Wizard by Kath Boyd Marsh

Author:Kath Boyd Marsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CBAY Books
Published: 2016-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Nasty Sir George swallowed a laugh, coughed, spit, and grumbled. “Get me down. Now!”

Cl’rnce growled back. “No way. I like you helpless.” He got up and looked from the water to the floating knight. Cl’rnce shot a look at Great and Mighty and pointed at her and back at the knight. “You did this?”

She nodded and smiled.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little wizard want-to-be had been so successful at saving Nasty Sir George, but then the knight was caught in the air, so maybe she was still a bit of a bumblespells wizard.

While Nasty Sir George was helpless, Cl’rnce decided to get information from him. “You tell me why you’re trying to kill me.”

Cl’rnce wanted the knight to say it was just for a River Dr’gon trophy. But when George shook his head, Cl’rnce knew it was bigger. Nasty Sir George wouldn’t miss a chance to brag unless someone else bigger and nastier was involved. Cl’rnce stabbed a sharp claw at the knight and added, “And where did you get the goblin horse and the kelpie?”

Nasty Sir George shook his head again. “Get me down,” he said, not yelling this time but with a discouraged droop in his voice.

“Answer me.” Cl’rnce wasn’t buying the poor sad knight act. He strode to the edge of the pond and leaned out. With all his claws out and taking a swipe at Nasty Sir George, he only missed the knight by a few inches. “I’m going to catch you and drown you myself,” Cl’rnce said.

“NO!” Great and Mighty threw herself in front of Cl’rnce. “You can’t hurt anyone. That’s not right.” She inched closer to Cl’rnce on the mossy rock, but her foot slipped on a wet spot, and she slid toward the water.

Cl’rnce grabbed for her as she skidded off the ledge. He snagged a bit of her robe, and for a moment, she hung angled backward over the pond, her arms pinwheeling as she grabbed at a sapling growing out of the boulder. But her fingers missed, her robe ripped, and she fell into the pond.

“Oh, great,” Cl’rnce said. “I’m coming.” This would be easy. He was the best swimmer of all the River Dr’gons. He squatted to push himself off the rock ledge into one of his elegant dives. This was his most graceful—head down and arms, legs, and tail spread wide until just before he hit the water. He called it the Dying Swan. Before he broke the pond’s surface, he would bring his ever so graceful arms over his head and cut the water without so much as a splash.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Nasty Sir George said, then slapped a gloved hand over his mouth.

Cl’rnce straightened up, first shooting a look at the knight, then staring at the water. The little wizard had gone under and not come up. “Where is she? I have to get her. She should have bobbed up by now.”

Nasty Sir George sounded like he really regretted helping, but he said, “I told you.

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