Free The Feline Wizard by Christopher Stasheff Page B

the south, his body still tense with leashed energy.
    Matt stared as a lot of things became clear, including the tenor of Dimetrolas' remarks, why she had pushed the issue to a fight, why that fight had seemed more a ritual than a battle, and most especially Stegoman's tension—he was highly stimulated, virtually bursting with adrenaline and hormones. “Oh,” Matt said. “Dimetrolas is female.”
    “A fact of which I was instantly aware,” Stegoman said dryly.
    “And, I take it, a rather pretty one?”
    “Absolutely beautiful,” Stegoman hissed, eyes burning again.
    In spite of himself, Matt backed away a step or two. “Well, then, why didn't you do something about it?” His eyes widened as he remembered the thrust of Dimetrolas' comments. “No. She was basically saying that you should forget it and suffer if you weren't willing to stay for life, wasn't she?”
    “Indeed,” Stegoman rejoined, “and in all good conscience, I could not pretend that I might.”
    Matt studied his friend closely. “You could come back, though. When we've found Balkis and retrieved her, you could come back and stay awhile.”
    Stegoman shook out his wings in irritation. “Could I? What have I to offer a female? I, who have no home and no friends of my own kind, who have been outcast by my own clan and was so long in exile that I cannot stay long in the mountains where I was born for the feeling of strangeness there! What tribe, what house, what people could I give? I have nothing to offer but wandering and loneliness, and estrangement from my own kind!”
    Matt gazed at his friend, feeling his heart twist with remembered pain of his own. At last he said, “You could offer a strong male dragon in his prime whose loyalty is proven to border on the fanatical.”
    “Aye,” Stegoman said with a sardonic grimace, “one—and that is not enough for a female. Perhaps there are some such among your kind, Matthew, but female dragons wish to lay eggs and see them hatch, to nurture them and teach them and watch them grow and know them as friends in maturity. That takes other females for company, males to ward them whilethey lay and brood, a whole clan to ward the hatchlings and shield them from loneliness. No, Matthew, I have nothing to offer, and must not therefore speak with more than civility!” With that, he leaped into the air and dove over the sawtoothed rim of the little plateau. Matt heard the boom of his wings opening, then watched him rise and arrow off toward the north, seeking supper and solace for the wound in his soul that Dimetrolas had unwittingly reopened. He gazed after Stegoman until he saw the dragon, small in the distance, half fold his wings and plunge from the sky. Then Matt turned away to his own campfire to rack his brains for a way to help his friend.
    Balkis woke at the sound of cows mooing below her and of a voice answering. She shrank farther into the hay, heart pounding with alarm. Her fur bristled and her claws sprang out. Then the fear lessened, for the voice was a resonant, friendly baritone, addressing the cows fondly. “There now, there's hay for you, Bossy, and for you, Dapple. Come now, Blossom, you'll not have apples again till fall, so you had better eat your fodder!”
    Balkis found herself wondering if people called cows by the same names the world over, changing only the language.
    A cow lowed with a note of urgency.
    “Yes, I know, Sunshine, I know,” the voice crooned. “Your udder's so full it hurts, I know, and I shall milk you first, but you must have feed to munch while I do. There now, all, eat and be still while I milk.”
    The cows quieted. So did Balkis; her fear shrank to wariness, and her claws hid themselves in her fur again. She heard the clatter of a stool and bucket being set while the voice said soothingly, “There now, I'll be gentle with the washing, so swollen is your udder! But you'll feel better quickly, be sure ofit.”
    Then there came the hiss of milk shooting into the