DragonSpell Read online

  “It’s a boy,” she told Dar in a soft voice. “His name is Gymn.”

  Dar’s music stopped. He slipped the harmonica into his jacket pocket and came to admire the newborn.

  “He’s a beauty, Kale.”

  The dragon flipped over on his belly and stretched. Kale felt his tiny feet pushing into her palm. He raised up on hind legs and cautiously his wings unfolded, stretching into a six-inch spread. The leathery membranes darkened to almost black but still the tinge of green held.

  “Let him hear your voice, Kale. Sing to him.”

  “What shall I sing?”

  “Anything.”

  Kale searched for something she knew all the words to. Ordinarily, a slave was not encouraged to sing, but she’d rocked many a fussy baby for the dames of the village, and those were times she was allowed to croon. She began to hum a harvest tune about seeds and sun, rain and grain. Dar pulled out his harmonica and joined her. Encouraged, she sang,

  “Dry seed planted in the ground,

  Wait for sun and rain to come ’round,

  Hope in the future, rest in the land.

  You are part of Wulder’s plan.

  Toommba la-la, trillo coom day.

  Toommba la-la, sen-sa-may.

  Toommba la-la, trillo coom day.

  Toommba la-la, sen-sa-may.”

  Gymn perched in the palm of her hand, swaying gently in time to the music. Then his outstretched wings moved up and down with a rhythmic swish-swish. Kale felt his hind leg muscles tense as she started the second verse. Suddenly, he leapt into the air, flapped his wings with more strength, and landed on her shoulder. She laughed out loud as the tiny green creature snuggled up against her chin and rubbed her cheek affectionately.

  Dar lowered the harmonica and smiled. “When will he be hungry?”

  “Tomorrow,” Kale answered, “according to the book.” She reached up one finger to stroke the baby’s soft green belly.

  “Then let’s get moving.”

  “Moving?”

  “I told you I have the wanderlust, Kale. We’ll explore The Bogs. We might find a trace of Leetu Bends or a clue as to where to find her.”

  Kale’s heart plummeted. How could she have forgotten? Leetu was in danger. She closed her eyes and reached with her mind, hoping she’d brush against the presence of the emerlindian.

  Darkness hit her. Gymn squeaked and fell from her shoulder into her lap. She opened her eyes to see his limp body across the fine material of one knickered leg.

  “Dar?” Kale squealed.

  “Don’t panic, Kale.” Dar leaned over the baby dragon. “He’s still breathing.”

  16

  FINDING THE TRAIL

  “What happened?” Kale tried to keep the panic from her voice.

  Dar ran a finger down Gymn’s back.

  “Watch his tail,” he said, and again stroked the length of the animal’s back. When he reached the vertebrae at the base of the tail, Gymn’s tail tip twitched. “There! He’s unconscious, but there’s no bad damage if his reflexes are still good. He’s breathing, too, without any raspy noises or gasping. I think he’ll be okay.”

  “But what happened?”

  “I don’t know, and there’s not much point in guessing.”

  Dar and Kale continued to watch the baby dragon. Soon his eyes fluttered, and he looked up at Kale. Immediately, he sprang to his feet and scrambled under the edge of her cape and into the top pocket.

  “He’s afraid,” said Kale. “I can feel it.”

  “What’s he afraid of?”

  Kale thought about the sequence of events.

  “I reached for Leetu, and that same ugly darkness met me,” she explained. “That must have been what happened.” She paused, cupping her hand over the cape where the baby dragon shivered in the pocket underneath. “I think he fainted.”

  Dar chortled. “Well, I’ve never heard of a dragon fainting before, but he is just a baby.”

  Dar got up and went to pack away the rest of his equipment.

  “Do you want to go up a couple of layers in the cygnot? The air will probably be cooler and fresher.”

  “Are you hot?” asked Kale.

  “I’m not wearing a moonbeam cape, Kale. I am very hot!”

  She stared at him, not understanding.

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “Stick out your hand. Stretch it away from the cape. Feel the air.”

  Kale did as she was told. Her fingertips touched the air a foot beyond the moonbeam material. The hot, moist atmosphere of the swamp coated her hand. She drew it back quickly. Within a circle around the cape, the air cooled to a pleasant temperature.

  Startled, she glanced up at Dar and saw a peculiar expression on his face. She reached to his mind and caught the last of a thought.

  “…lot to learn.”

  I know. Councilman Meiger said I didn’t know anything.

  “First off, it’s rude to come into my mind like that. You are supposed to be learning manners as well as controlling your talent.”

  I’m sorry. I didn’t think first.

  “Second,” Dar went on without acknowledging her apology, “there’s no crime in not knowing something. However, it’s a shame to turn away from an opportunity to learn. Not a crime, but definitely a poor choice.

  “Don’t worry about what you don’t know. Just think about how much you’ve learned in the last few days. You keep up at this rate, in a week you’ll know everything there is to know in the universe.”

  Kale watched a big teasing grin take over her friend’s face. Even if he was poking fun at her in his big brother way, she liked him, and she liked what he said. It was true. She had learned an awful lot since she left River Away. And now she was responsible for a baby dragon.

  That thought made her smile. And she had seven more dragon eggs that would someday hatch. She couldn’t help the glow that settled on her. But her next thought snuffed out the light. She was also supposed to find one wizard who didn’t want to be found, a meech egg held by the evil Wizard Risto, and Leetu who might be dead already.

  She saw Dar latch the straps of his pack and swing it onto his shoulder. He picked up Leetu’s bundles as well. One he handed to Kale. The other he tucked under his arm.

  “Dar?”

  “One thing at a time, Kale. We do the one thing that is in front of us to do and trust Wulder to lead us to the rest.”

  “Are you sure you don’t read my mind?”

  “No, but your face is pretty easy to understand. You looked happy, then worried, then panicked.”

  Kale nodded.

  Even encumbered by so many packs, Dar made a courtly bow in her direction. “Shall we go, my lady?” He swept one arm toward the treetops. “Our destiny awaits us.”

  He had at least made her feel more cheerful. Kale softly laughed, patted the pocket holding the cowering dragon, and got to her feet.

  “How do we get up there?”

  “Climb,” said Dar. He walked closer to the nearest trunk and then peered upward. “There.” He bent his knees for a second and then sprang straight up, catching an overhead branch on the first try. Without a struggle, he chinned himself on it, and then poked his arms through the foliage. In only a moment, he wiggled through to the next layer.

  Kale watched his feet disappear and almost panicked again.

  Stop it! she told herself. He’s out of sight, not gone. You’ll be up there with him in just a minute. You’re taller than Dar, and you’ve climbed lots of trees. You can do this.

  Dar’s smiling face appeared, hanging upside down from the hole he’d made.

  “Coming?”

  “Yes.”

  She moved underneath him. He put an arm down to help.

  “I can do it,” she protested.

  The arm disappeared, and the branch trembled as he moved away. Kale’s head brushed the lowest hanging leaves. She pushed her hands and arms through the hole and realized the opening was only big enough for the smaller doneel. She’d have to f
orce her body through, enlarging the hole as she went.

  Twigs and rough limbs scraped and poked as she hoisted herself, using her arms.

  I can’t get stuck. It would be too embarrassing.

  She reached out and grabbed a branch woven into the cygnot floor, and by pulling on it, she inched higher over the edge. Another stout twig jabbed her stomach. Rolling sideways, she managed to unhook herself from that snag only to find her blouse caught again.

  Well, I said I could do it myself, but he doesn’t have to ignore me.

  She craned her neck around to the left. No Dar. She looked to the right. No Dar. Startled, she scrambled out of the hole, heedless of the grabby branches.

  “Dar!”

  “Up here.”

  Kale looked up to see his face showing through the next layer of branches. Biting back angry words, Kale stood and leapt at the hole. This time the branches were more than a foot above her head, but her irritation toward the doneel gave her a boost. She squirmed through the hole quickly.

  “Good,” she said. “You haven’t had time to vanish.”

  He looked puzzled. “Vanish?”

  “Never mind.” She stood and brushed loose bits of leaves from her clothes. “Are we going up again?”

  “No, I think this will do. Let’s go.”

  “I want to check on Gymn first.”

  Dar sighed but didn’t object.

  Kale opened the cape and peeked into the top pocket.

  “He’s asleep.”

  “Ready now?”

  Kale didn’t answer. She looked around. “I can stand up straight here, and the upper limbs won’t catch in my hair. It’s lighter, too. More sun gets through.” She lifted her face and closed her eyes. “And there’s a breeze.” She opened her eyes to look at Dar. “Why didn’t Leetu bring us up here sooner?”

  “Look down,” said Dar.

  Kale immediately saw the difference. “Oh.”

  These limbs were thinner with less foliage. Big holes gaped in the flooring, and some places looked as if the branches might give way under any weight at all.

  “Leetu wanted you to have a chance to practice walking where it was easier,” Dar explained. “The cygnot floor is called planking. Each time you go up a level toward the sun, the planking is less firmly woven together. The branches are younger, more supple. They bend and slip to the side when you step on them. You’ve practiced below. Now with a little more practice, you’ll master this planking as well.”

  “It would have been more comfortable for you and Leetu up here.”

  “Yes, but not if we had to keep dragging you back up through several floors of the cygnot forest.”

  Kale nodded agreement with Dar’s explanation, but she suspected Leetu had thought mostly of making the journey easier on a poor, untrained o’rant girl.

  “Well,” she said, “let’s get started. Which direction?”

  Dar pointed. “That way. Deeper into The Bogs.”

  “Can the mordakleeps get up here?”

  “Yep.” Dar headed out.

  Kale followed, watching every step and cringing a little when the intertwined flooring sank under her feet. Several times she hopped to a bigger branch just as she felt she was sliding through the planking.

  Kale stopped occasionally as the day progressed to peek at the newborn dragon. Mostly Gymn slept. Once in a while he stretched and turned over.

  He seems comfortable. The cape is probably making his little pocket den just the right temperature. She slapped at a bug as it landed on her face. At least he’ll be able to catch enough food for himself. I hope he has a hearty appetite. She slapped at another insect, and waved her hand beside her ear where something small buzzed. I’ll have to ask Dar for that stick that keeps the bugs away next time we stop.

  “Kale.” Leetu’s voice, weak and distant, called to her.

  Kale stopped in her tracks. “Dar!”

  “What?”

  “I heard Leetu.”

  Dar sprinted back from his position in the lead.

  “What did she say?”

  “Just my name, and then nothing.”

  “Concentrate.”

  “I am. I mean, I will.”

  Dar stood perfectly still and stared at her. Kale closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see him and his expression. He looked as if he expected her to know where Leetu was and whether she was all right and if they could get to her. And oh, how she wanted to know all those things too.

  With her eyes closed, she reached out to Leetu. She hesitated. That awful dark emptiness might be out there ready to swallow her up.

  It hits so hard when it comes. It hurts. It’s like a nothingness, an emptiness, a…something I can’t name. But it hurts all the way down to my heart.

  Stop it! Stop it! I’ve got to quit thinking. I’ve got to try. Leetu spoke to me. She did. I didn’t imagine it. And if she spoke to me, she needs me. She’s someplace where Dar and I can help her. I’ve got to quit thinking about doing it and just do it.

  Gently, Kale reached. Slow. Careful. Like reaching out in the dark, she felt ahead of her, not rushing. She didn’t come up against the ugly, terrifying blackness. She reached and stretched, and her mind penetrated all directions at once.

  Then she knew.

  Her eyes flew open and she looked toward the setting sun. Small pink splotches of sky peeked through the overhead branches.

  “That way,” she said.

  “That’s where we just came from.”

  “Leetu is somewhere in that direction.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Kale started to say yes and then stopped.

  Am I?

  She reached with her mind again but focused west.

  There. She felt it again. Leetu. Not her thoughts, but her person. No words, just a longing to be free, to escape.

  “I’m sure, Dar, and we have to hurry.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t know if the desperation was her own feeling or Leetu’s.

  “We have to hurry.”

  17

  LOOKING FOR TROUBLE

  Dar wasted no time. With a nod to Kale, he slung his knapsacks across his back again and headed in the direction she had indicated. Kale followed, glad that she had picked up some skill in walking the treacherous planking at this altitude.

  Leetu, we’re coming.

  No response.

  I wonder if she can hear me?

  Leetu?

  No answer. At least Kale hadn’t been slapped in the face with that horrible darkness.

  She blanked out all thoughts and tried to hear Leetu mindspeak. With her mind on her friend instead of the planking, Kale’s foot hit a thin spot. She plunged through the branches, catching herself with her arms. Dar sprinted back, grabbed her shoulders, and helped her struggle back to the level where they were traveling.

  “You all right?” He picked a caterpillar off her arm and placed it on a branch.

  “Are you asking me if I’m all right, or the caterpillar?”

  Dar’s eyebrows shot up and his ears flattened. “Not all right.” He shook his head and turned away, already resuming his quick stride. “Definitely grumpy.”

  “I’m not grumpy!” she called after him. She glared at him for a moment, then realized she was wasting more time. His back couldn’t see her scowl.

  “I’m not grumpy,” she muttered and took three tentative steps after the doneel. The branches gave way under her, and she hopped to a sturdier limb.

  I’d better pay attention to my feet. I wonder if we should go down a level. The problem is speed. Where can we travel the quickest?

  The problem is me. She sighed. Dar could reach Leetu faster without me. I’m slowing him down, falling through the planking.

  She followed Dar, wondering if she should suggest moving down. She could move faster on a level below, provided she didn’t step wrong in the dimmer light. Here she could see better, but it was tiring to have to be so cautious.

  Too bad there i
sn’t a river and a boat. Too bad we don’t have riding dragons like Dar’s Merlander. Even a dirt road and a farm horse would move us faster than this.

  She came to a thicker patch of cygnot forest and took advantage of the more closely woven planking to catch up to Dar. He moved at the same pace whatever the quality of planking beneath them.

  They stopped for a quick meal late in the day. Inside the gauzy wrapping, Granny Noon’s sandwiches were still fresh. Gymn came out of his pocket-den and sniffed at her bread, cheese, and sliced jimmin but didn’t take a bite. He skipped up her arm and perched on her shoulder until she finished eating. When she stood up after her meal, Gymn dashed back into his pocket-den.

  “Let’s keep moving as long as we can,” said Dar. “Do you still think Leetu is in that direction?” He pointed through the trees.

  She allowed her mind to test for Leetu’s presence and felt a faint nudge, much less pronounced than before.

  Is she weakening? Is she farther away? Is she dying?

  Leetu?

  No response. At least she knew which direction to go.

  She nodded in the direction the doneel still pointed. Dar shouldered his pack and struck out.

  Soon daylight faded. The moon’s soft glow did little to help her distinguish between dense clusters of leaves and a solid branch. The swamp bugs became more aggressive. She’d forgotten to ask for the stick that discouraged bugs. Dar’s furry covering didn’t appear to be as attractive to them as her exposed skin.

  Big and small flying insects tormented her, distracting her from the serious business of putting her feet down in the safest spots. Kale slapped at them and vowed that as soon as Dar stopped for the night, she would ask him for the stick. She wouldn’t ask now. They must reach Leetu.

  After Kale stumbled several times, Dar found a place to camp. He said nothing about her clumsiness. She was too tired to even be embarrassed that they had to stop because she was falling on her face every couple of steps. She spread out her cape close to a cygnot trunk where the planking was thick and solid.

  Dar handed her the insect repellent. Kale muttered a thank-you. She rubbed the fragrant bar over every bit of skin sticking out of her clothing, even in her hair.