"Well..." Matt swallowed. "You remember that `swearing by the saints' I told you about?"
"Yeah..." The monster was beginning to sound puzzled.
"I, uh, kinda got carried away the last time I did it."
"Carried away where?"
"To Ibile. I mean, I swore to kick the king of Ibile off his throne, or die trying."
There was a sudden and total silence. Then the other side of the boulder erupted into a coughing, cawing sound. It was a minute before Matt realized it was laughter.
Scowling, he stepped around the boulder. "All right, it's not funny!"
"Not to you, maybe! But from here? It's a hoot and a holler! Eeee!" The monster blinked away tears. "Boy, you sure wanna die young!"
"Yeah." Matt swallowed heavily. "I, uh, wasn't thinking too clearly."
"I'll say you weren't! Didn't it kinda sink in that the saints wouldn't let you off?"
"Well, not at the time..."
"Not much of a wizard, are you?"
That stung. Matt drew himself up to his full height. "I'll have you know I'm the Lord Wizard of Merovence!"
"No fooling?" The dracogriff stared, impressed. "Hey, if you're so high and mighty, how come you made a dumb mistake like that?"
"Reflexes," Matt mumbled, deflating. "I didn't grow up here, see. I was born in another universe."
"Universe?" The dracogriff frowned. "How can there be more than one?"
"Search me." Matt spread his hands. "I only know that there is. I grew up there, where we don't quite believe in religion as strongly as you do."
"Believe?" The dracogriff reared its head back, eyeing Matt strangely. "What's to believe? There's a good One, and a bad one, and they each give off magic power. Everybody knows that."
"I know." Matt sighed. "It's like saying you `believe' that when you throw something up in the air, sooner or later, it'll come down again."
"Yeah." The dracogriff growled, looking uncomfortable for some reason. "Or like saying you `believe' in the wind—or in ghosts."
"Right. Anyway, I started trying to translate a booby-trapped poem..."
" `Booby trapped'?" The dracogriff frowned
"Yeah—it was a spell in disguise. But we don't believe in spells, either..."
"Kinda dumb, aren't you?"
Matt flushed. "You could put it a little more delicately. Anyway, when I managed to translate the poem well enough to recite it, I looked up and found myself in the middle of Bordestang."
The dracogriff just stared. Then its mouth lolled open, and it began to make the noise again.
"Please." Matt held up a hand, looking pained. "I feel dumb enough as it is."
"Awright, awright," the dracogriff grunted, throttling down its amusement. "So how'd you turn out to be such a big-shot wizard, if you didn't believe in magic?"
"Maybe that's why. Because I wasn't raised with it, see, I could look at it from the outside—and I had to try to figure out how it worked."
"So you could dope it out better than any of the locals." The dracogriff nodded. "That's so stupid, it almost makes sense."
Matt eyed the boulder. "You might say you're not in any position to throw stones."
The monster's good humor vanished on the instant. "Oh, shut up," it growled, turning to glare at the rock. "A guy's got to sleep some time, don't he?"
"Yeah, sure he does. You're just lucky it didn't hit you on the head."
"Not lucky at all," the dracogriff growled. "He wants my blood fresh when he gets it." Suddenly, it lunged at its own wing, jaws gaping.
"Stop!" Matt shouted.
The dracogriff jolted to a halt, wincing. "Not so loud..."
"Eschew such behavior!"
"That's what I'm doing!" The monster opened its jaws again.
"But you can't," Matt cried in a panic. "How will you fly on just one wing?"
"Better a hiker than a corpse," the dracogriff grunted.
"Why not just push it off?"
"What do you think I've been trying to do all morning?" it growled.
"Maybe you just can't get a good angle." Matt came over to the beast's trapped wing. "Here, let me try."
"No way!" the monster bellowed. "It was one of you guys who got me into this fix in the first place! Let you near me? You'd just put a whammy on me that'd make me turn belly-up! Stay back there, buster!"
"But I just want to help..."
"Yeah, help me into an early grave! Got a thing about blood, don't you? By the bucketful, sure! Come within five feet of me, and you're lunch, boyo!"
"Now, wait a minute." Matt took a step forward. "I don't mean any harm. Probably your enemies are my enemies."
"Or you're one of 'em! Get gone!" The dracogriff bared its teeth and lunged. Matt leaped back—and the dracogriff slammed out against the weight on its wing with a bellow of pain. "Now look what you did!"
"Absolutely nothing." Matt frowned around the monster's head at the rock. "It didn't budge an inch, with your full weight against it. Funny..."
"Oh, yeah! It's a bundle o' laughs!"
"No, no." Matt waved the sarcasm away with irritation. "I mean the boulder itself. It's only a foot-thick chunk of granite; and it's more or less spherical. It ought to have at least started to roll."
"Well, it didn't."
Matt looked up, eyes widening. "Did you say it was a sorcerer who was hunting you?"
"It wasn't the little boy who looks after the sheep, bucko."
"It's enchanted!"
"Great," the dracogriff snorted. "Just great. You finally got the idea. Give the big-shot wizard a crest for his coat of arms."
Matt scowled. "I told you this stuff didn't come naturally to me. Okay, so it's magic. Now let me see what I can do."
The dracogriff stared. "What're you talking about?"
"Getting that boulder off your wing," Matt said impatiently.
"With a spell?" the dracogriff bawled. "A fumble-fingered filigree like you would probably take off the whole wing!"
Matt held up a palm. "A little patience, please."
"Patience, my tail fin! You just get the hell away from my wing, y' hear me?"
"I hear you." Matt's eyes never left the boulder. "I've got your measure, too."
"Measure, nothing! You just get outa here!" When Matt didn't respond, the dracogriff screamed, "Out! I said now! I won't take any favors from your kind! I don't want anything to do with you! Just get outa here, you hear me?"
"No way," Matt muttered. "I think I see how to do it."
"Get out, or I'll gnaw you out!" the dracogriff raged. "I, won't owe you!"
"Well, it's your life—but that doesn't mean I have to let you throw it away."
"It's not your lookout!" the dracogriff bawled, and lunged at Matt, jaws gaping.
The wizard leaped back, and the dracogriff jolted up short against the tether of its own wing again. It roared with pain, and Matt said calmly, "You see? One way or another, it's got to come off."
"The rock?" the dracogriff howled. "Or the wing?"
"Well, I was thinking of the rock—but you seemed pretty willing to take off the wing just a few minutes ago."
"That would have been my doing," the griff growled. "Get your greedy eyes offa me!"
But Matt frowned down at the boulder, pacing around the monster so he could see the rock from all sides—and carefully staying out of range. So he didn't see the faint glint of hope that came into the dracogriff's eye.
"I've got the spell," he said slowly, "but I'm reluctant to use it."
"Then don't," the dracogriff grunted. "Just get outa here and leave me alone."
"Not so fast. I don't want to use the spell because as soon as the rock's off your wing, you might charge out and chew me up."
The dracogriff snorted. "Not a bad idea. Better get while the getting's good."
"Well, I wasn't asking for anything major—just a solemn promise that you wouldn't try to hurt me."
The dracogriff narrowed his eyes. "How come you don't want an oath?"