Diana Wynne Jones’s Fantastical Journeys Collection. Diana Wynne Jones

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      A boy in a grey coat was sent rushing off, with instructions from Gronn to fetch “a decent lunch” as well as these cousins of mine. The lunch arrived first. We all, including Gronn, sat on the grass to eat rolls stuffed with crab and big bunches of grapes. Ivar, Ogo and I had never eaten grapes, though we had all had raisins. Gronn was explaining, in a very satisfied way, that grapes grew in profusion in the south of Gallis. I think he then went on to tell us they were dried into raisins to send to Skarr, but my cousins arrived then and I am not sure.

      Rees was good-looking and fair-haired, taller and older than Ivar, and he seemed the most easily friendly person I have ever met. His sister, my cousin Riannan, was the very same girl who had won The Singing. I was awed. Close to, she was staggeringly lovely. I wondered how someone could have such huge blue eyes and delicate features – not to speak of a marvellous shape – and yet be so modest, even a little shy. Riannan smiled, looking down at the grass, then looked up, first at me, then at Ivar. After that, she looked nowhere else.

      Ivar stared back. His face, with the thin beginnings of a beard, turned slowly crimson and then pale. And Riannan still stared. It didn’t seem to matter to her that Ivar’s hair had grown all shaggy or that his once-good clothes were now stained and old. It was plain that she thought he was perfect. And Ivar thought the same of her, all trim and lissom as she was, in her blue-green tunic with the starry brooch flashing on the front of it.

      “Listen now,” Gronn was saying, when I brought my mind back, “we have this lady Beck who has been unfortunate with the Red Woman of Bernica and needs some healing help.”

      Rees gave Aunt Beck the same sort of professional, summing-up look that Aunt Beck normally gave other people. “A spell, is it?” he said.

      “Indeed, yes,” Gronn said. “A spell she has half resisted. Do you think Wenda could handle it?”

      “My mother can handle most things,” Rees said, grinning.

      “Well then,” said Gronn, “this is what I’m suggesting – that you take them all back with you to the Pandy, introduce Aileen to her aunt and her Uncle Bran and so forth, and see what your mother can do for Beck.” He said to me, “Wenda is my second cousin and there is no one more capable of lifting spells than she is in all Gallis. If you set off now, you can avoid the crowds at the way stations. Will that suit you?”

      “Oh yes, perfectly,” I said, flustered. “Thank you.” I saw that Aunt Beck was sitting there in the cart not attending to anything, with a crab roll still in her hand. “Eat your lunch, Beck,” I snapped half-heartedly. I was so sick of shouting at her.

      “Well now,” Gronn said, brushing crumbs off his rounded front, “I shall go back to my duties and leave you with my blessing.” He smiled and made gestures in the air, which I supposed was his blessing, and then wandered gently away. He seemed to be down on the greensward and in the distance near the white building before he had taken three steps.

      The magic of Gallis again, I thought.

      “No need to hurry,” Rees said amiably. “Anyone care for some more lunch?” He held up the cloth bag he was carrying.

      “Yes, please,” Ogo said. He was always hungry.

      Plug-Ugly was always hungry too. He advanced on Rees, tail swinging, and stood on his hind legs against Rees’s knees with one large paw stretched towards the cloth bag. Rees laughed.

      As Plug-Ugly’s paw touched the bag, there was the tiniest hissing. I saw two bright red eyes staring from the cuff of Rees’s sleeve.

      “Oh, have you got a pet rat?” I said. My cousin Donal had a rat when he was younger, which he used to let climb about inside his clothing. And the truth was, I was prepared to be interested in anything to keep my mind off Ivar and Riannan.

      Rees laughed again. “No, not a rat,” he said. He shook his arm a little and a tiny red lizard ran out, long and thin, and raced up his sleeve to his shoulder, where it coiled around and glared down at Plug-Ugly.

      “Oh!” I said.

      “Her name is Blodred,” Rees said. “She’s a dragon-lizard.”

      “They’re very common here in Gallis,” Riannan said. “A lot of people make pets of them. Rees has had Blodred since he was five years old. Don’t you have them in Skarr?”

      “No,” we all said.

      Finn added, “Nor in Bernica, but I’ve heard of them. I think it may be too cold for them north of Gallis.”

      Ogo leant above me to look closely at the lizard. It really could have been a tiny dragon. It had a sort of frill that looked like wings on its faintly pulsing red sides. “Does she fly?” he asked.

      “No, not really,” said Rees. “Those are not proper wings – just skin she can spread a bit and glide on. And,” he added proudly, “they come in all colours, but red is the very rarest.”

      We all sat down again and had more lunch. Ivar and Riannan sat close together and talked to each other in little broken sentences. As far as I could tell, she was asking about Ivar’s life on Skarr and he was СКАЧАТЬ