Winter Witch by Elaine Cunningham Page A

that being caught in a trap or cage.
    The wizard raised his wand and flicked it toward the horse in a sharp, dismissive gesture. Immediately the stallion burst into motion. Within a few strides, however, the horse checked, whirled, and headed back at a trot. White rings showed around the stallion’s brown eyes.
    Declan caught the reins and wrestled the horse to a stop. The wizard backed away during the struggle. Just as Declan was getting the stallion under control, Zimbidge raised his wand.
    A wet sheen like thin mucous sprang into existence all over the wizard’s body. For one terrifying moment, Declan thought the guardsman was being encased in ice the same way Silvana and Majeed had been.
    Then the wand squirted out of Zimbidge’s grasp. His feet followed, windmilling on the slick stone cobbles as if they had been greased—which, of course, they had. He went down in a tangle of arms and legs. His fellow guards looked uncertain whether to laugh or attack.
    Skywing, however, had no such qualms. The dragon’s amusement sang through Declan’s thoughts—not laughter, exactly, but a happy, high-pitched hum.
    When at last the slime faded and disappeared, the wizard gathered the shreds of his dignity and stomped toward Declan.
    “I suppose you didn’t do that, either,” he snarled. “Don’t bother denying it, and remember that commanding a familiar to cast a spell is no different from casting it yourself.”
    I told him I’m your familiar , Skywing explained.
    Declan had never known the little drake could cast spells, but it made sense if Skywing were someone’s familiar. But he wasn’t Declan’s familiar, which led to the question of what wizard he served. Declan sent the dragon a look that promised more discussion on this matter later. “My apologies. Until tonight, I was unaware that ...my familiar could cast spells.”
    The wizard opened his mouth as if to argue, then grimaced and shook his head. “If you can’t control your familiar, I suggest you turn the creature over to a wizard who can.”
    Declan nodded and hauled himself into the saddle. The horse swung its head back toward the wizard and made a noise suspiciously like a snicker.
    He reined the stallion toward the bridge. Once they were beyond hearing distance, he shook his head at Skywing.
    “My familiar?” he repeated. “Apprentice to Mareshka Zarumina? I never even heard that name.”
    Neither had the wizard. He just didn’t want to admit it.
    Declan let out a bark of laughter. “Brazen and inventive—just the qualities I’d want in a familiar, assuming that I wanted a familiar. But I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. What happy coincidence brought you to the East Shore bridge?”
    No coincidence. I’m protecting you . The little dragon puffed out his chest. Someone needs to.
    Declan considered that answer. “So it really was you who cast those spells?”
    Protecting you , the little creature repeated emphatically. I chased off an imp the necromancer sent to attack you .
    “Jamang didn’t wait long, did he?” Declan was impressed that he had taken action so soon. “I suppose he’ll keep trying.”
    No more trying. The necromancer is dead.
    Declan froze, astonished and more than a little horrified. “Skywing, you didn’t—”
    No.
    It seemed to Declan that the little drake sounded regretful. Even if it were true he had not slain Jamang, Skywing looked as though he wished he had. Declan decided not to examine that insight too closely. “How did it happen?”
    A bad person , the dragon opined.
    “Ordinarily I’d agree with that assessment, but killing Jamang might have been an act of self-defense, or at least a well-deserved retaliation. How do you know he was killed by a ‘bad person’?”
    I know, the dragon insisted. I watched this bad person follow you for more than three sleeps and sunrises.
    “Someone has been following me for three days?” Declan demanded. “And you’re telling me this now?”
    Telling you now,