DragonSpell Page 13

  NO! You can’t. Dar is there in the middle. You’ll hurt him by mistake. This is wrong, Celisse. Wrong! You can’t kill them. You’ll be a murderer too.

  Celisse gave no response to Kale’s pleas. No coherent thoughts flowed from the dragon’s mind, only unrelenting hatred. Kale watched the ground rushing toward them and closed her eyes against the terrifying sight.

  A bisonbeck shrieked just before Kale heard a sickening thud. She felt Celisse jerk and knew from the shift in the huge body beneath her that they were climbing again.

  She opened her eyes and saw red blood splattered thickly along the dragon’s dark neck.

  No, Celisse. Kale sobbed. The dragon soared upward, changed directions, and dove for another attack. This time she killed the last three bisonbeck soldiers, one with her teeth and two with a swipe of her tail.

  Kale clung to the saddle horn, weeping as the dragon circled rapidly upward. The air became cold and the wings of the dragon slowed to a less frantic beat. Just as Kale began gasping for air, the dragon stopped the skyward climb and began to glide back to earth in large, unhurried loops. Kale’s body ached from the sobs that had torn at her while she begged Celisse to stop. A keening wail reached Kale’s ears. She felt spasms radiate through the enormous dragon. That’s when Kale realized Celisse was crying as she flew back to the farm.

  Kale discarded each thought of condemnation as it came to her mind. She would not judge the dragon. Kale had been long enough in the world outside River Away to understand there were things she did not know. She was building a new system of discernment based on truths she had never known existed. Paladin had sent her on a quest to find a meech egg. But maybe on this journey she would discover some important things valuable to her alone.

  She wondered how Paladin would feel about the dragon’s attack. When Kale asked if Paladin approved of killing, Leetu had said, “Paladin believes in protecting his people.” Did Paladin also approve of avenging his people? And wasn’t it up to Paladin and Wulder to judge where only they could possibly know all the facts?

  She placed a hand on the thick, black scales in front of the saddle’s horn. Celisse had fought the monsters who killed her family. She’d won, but she’d need a friend to fight the battle of loneliness ahead.

  It’s my place to be your friend, Celisse.

  Kale shook her head as she realized something. Her “place” used to be village slave. She was to stay in her “place” and do the chores assigned her. Then she’d been given a position in a party going on a quest. In that instance, too, it was an outside force determining her “place.” She’d just offered her friendship to someone in need. And it truly was “her place” to do so.

  This is what it means to be free. I can choose to do what’s right. I choose to follow Paladin. I choose to search for the meech egg. I, Kale Allerion, choose to find Leetu Bends and help her escape if I can.

  The words “if I can” echoed in her mind.

  Granny Noon said that if a mind was blocked I could get in by saying, “In Wulder’s service, I search for truth.” What if the means to rescue Leetu is blocked? Will Wulder help me get past trouble? I could say, “In Wulder’s service, I search for Leetu.” Would that work?

  A strong image interrupted Kale’s thoughts. A kaleidoscope of books and faces with mouths moving rapidly in speech flashed through her mind. A tornado-like wind swept aside these images. The pictures of a multitude of words were replaced with a heart.

  “Not the right words, but a heart in the right place.” Kale’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice delivering the message. Granny Noon!

  21

  A HARD DECISION

  Kale clung to the saddle, limp with exhaustion. The cold wind in her face kept her awake. The hot sun on her back kept her from freezing. The combination of sun and breeze dissolved the remaining mist on the ground. Even so, as Celisse circled, coming lower and lower in the sky, Kale couldn’t see Dar anywhere near the farmyard. A new panic rose in her throat. Had he been killed along with the bisonbeck soldiers when Celisse made her reckless attack?

  Dar?

  “What?” The grumpy tone warned Kale something was wrong.

  Are you all right?

  “My goldenterm silk court coat has a rip in it.”

  Can you fix it?

  “Yes.”

  Dar’s sharp response surprised Kale. Was he angry with her or Celisse or both? She wondered whether his irritation sprang from his coat being torn or from his orders being ignored. Kale tried to read Dar’s feelings and tap into his thoughts, but her mind wouldn’t cooperate. Her whole body felt as though she’d been harvesting turnips for a week. Her brain must have been as worn out as her muscles.

  She needed to get to Dar’s side quickly. She wanted to see his face and perhaps be able to read his expression. Mostly, after the harrowing ride on the dragon’s back, she wanted to be safe on the ground and with someone she could trust, even if that someone was presently grouchy.

  Where are you?

  “I returned to my belongings. I can’t wear torn clothing, now, can I? I have certain scruples about my appearance. Our business is important, or have you forgotten? We aren’t a troupe of ragamuffin peddlers. We have a quest. We must be on our way. Too much time has been spent battling bisonbecks. Rescuing an emerlindian warrior is next on our agenda.”

  His tirade ended abruptly. After a brief pause Kale again heard his thoughts.

  “Focus on me so Celisse can get my direction. She should land here and avoid the farm. It’s not good for her to dwell on what is past.”

  Kale silently agreed and did as Dar instructed. Soon the dragon’s feet touched the ground in a clearing among tall trang-a-nog trees. Sunlight glinted off the shiny smooth bark, and the huge green leaves fanned the air as the draft from Celisse’s large wings disturbed the woods.

  The doneel already wore a sporting tunic of crisp green over a white linen shirt. He’d tucked purple breeches, striped with green to complement his tunic, into glossy black high-topped boots.

  In imitation of Leetu dismounting Merlander, Kale swung her right leg out of the brace and over Celisse’s back, then disengaged her left leg and slid down the dragon’s side. However, the o’rant girl lacked the grace of the emerlindian, and her legs were cramped from clinging to the saddle in flight. She landed squarely on her feet and collapsed into a disheveled heap as her knees buckled.

  Dar offered her no assistance, so she wiggled around until she sat cross-legged. The great dragon slumped into a prone position and stretched out behind her. Gymn crawled out of his pocket-den and cautiously peeked around the opening of the cape. Kale felt his discomfort. His stomach twinged, and she didn’t know if it was hunger or fear. He darted down her front, vaulted from her legs, and took off after a grasshopper.

  Dar folded his torn clothes and packed them into his bag. He spoke over his shoulder. “Ask Celisse if she’s fully recovered.”

  Again, Kale did not have to ask the question. The dragon seemed to understand Dar’s words as soon as he spoke.

  “She said yes, Dar, but I think you can speak to her yourself. She always answers before I ask. So she must understand you.”

  Dar stopped what he was doing and looked at Celisse. He tilted his head in contemplation. “It is possible. Presumably, she’s lived among people, away from other dragons, for years. Most dragons can only communicate easily with one person. Merlander and I converse readily. But Merlander shuns connections with any other two-legged beasts, as she calls us. She’s quite gabby with her dragon friends, of course.”

  Dar walked over to Celisse and laid his hand upon her scaly cheek. “You’ve had a rough time of it, old girl. And you’re a very special dragon. I would have been honored to be counted as one of your comrades.”

  Kale felt the hum of pleasure emanate from deep in the riding dragon.

  Dar sighed as if burdened by a weighty grief. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to serve Paladin with us.”

  The hum ceased.
Dar trudged back to his belongings with his shoulders drooped and his head hanging.

  “Kale, your things are here too,” he said. “There, under the fortaleen bush. We have to be going. It’s a long way by foot.”

  Kale didn’t understand any of Dar’s actions, but for the moment, she was too weary to protest. She shook her head in bewilderment as she moved over to the shrub and looked under the prickly lower branches. One of Leetu’s packs was hidden there as well. Kale wasn’t about to poke her hand into those sharp briars. She scoured the ground for a long stick. Finding a dead branch, she used it to snag the bags and pull them out.

  Once she had them both on the grass before her, she looked for Gymn. The little dragon scurried about on the opposite side of the clearing from Celisse. He seemed totally unconcerned over the emotions of the others. He grabbed insects from the air and scavenged in the foliage for more.

  Kale wished she could be so detached. She didn’t want to figure out why Dar had turned against Celisse. She didn’t want to think about the horrible things that had happened to the dragon and her family. She certainly didn’t want to think about the gruesome way Celisse had torn into the guards. She took off her cape, rolled it with Gymn’s pocket-den on the outside, and attached it to Leetu’s pack.

  Dar stood ready to go, not looking at anyone but staring off into the trang-a-nog woods. Celisse lay with her neck stretched out, her chin in the dirt, and her eyes closed.

  Kale approached Dar. Her stomach tightened. Her jaw muscles ached from clenching her teeth.

  “I don’t understand.” She pushed her troubled thoughts to the surface and made herself speak. “I thought we needed Celisse. Are we just going to leave her? She has no one, Dar. She’s all alone.”

  “We can’t trust her.”

  Kale glanced at the dejected dragon. “Her heart is broken.”

  “We can’t trust her.”

  “What do you mean? She’s not a bad dragon. She loved her family of people. She cared for them and helped them.”

  “And because they were killed, she threw all caution to the winds and came back with vengeance in her heart. She had you on her back.” His words came out like sharp blows of a hammer. “You who know nothing about riding a dragon. A novice. She knew that. She knew I was on the ground in the midst of the bisonbeck guards. And with hatred in her heart, she dove from the sky to kill. At that moment, it didn’t much matter to her who she might kill as long as she got those four bisonbecks.”

  Kale spoke softly. “I can understand her rage, Dar. She was killing murderers. Those four bisonbecks will never torture, maim, or kill innocent people again.”

  Dar looked from Kale to Celisse. The dragon still lay motionless next to tall trang-a-nog trees. The large, thick, richly green leaves contrasted sharply against the dragon’s dull gray and black scales. Some of the fierceness left Dar’s face as he gazed at the despondent creature.

  “That’s your reasoning, Kale, and it had absolutely nothing to do with her reasoning.” He sighed heavily. “The truth is, she was beyond reasoning. She didn’t kill to protect innocent people in the future. No, that’s not why she tore through that yard and slaughtered those soldiers.”

  “Why, then?”

  Dar’s jaw clenched and the frown grew tighter across his brow. “She allowed anger to rule. That is never the way of Wulder or Paladin. Justice, yes. But not bloodshed to express rage.”

  Dar pointed to Gymn. The little dragon had eaten his fill and had stretched out on a boulder to sun himself. “Get your friend. We have to go.”

  Kale scooped the drowsy dragon into her hand and carefully tucked him into his chosen pocket-den. She couldn’t help but look with sadness at Celisse. The riding dragon’s eyes were squeezed shut, and she’d turned her face slightly away from the people in the clearing.

  “Does she understand what we’re saying, Dar?”

  “Oh, yes, and even if she didn’t, she would know the truth in her heart. A follower of Paladin does not demonstrate how upset he is by uncontrolled carnage. A follower of Paladin thinks. He thinks of the consequences of his actions. People in this region instruct their children in these simple truths as soon as they can listen to the stories of old. Celisse has lived among the high races. She has embraced the ways of Wulder.”

  “What will happen to her?”

  “I don’t know.” Dar shrugged his shoulders and turned abruptly toward the path that led into the woods. “To endanger you and me in order to satisfy her need for revenge shows that Celisse can’t be trusted.” Without another look at the riding dragon, he started down the shaded pathway. But he continued to lecture Kale. “We may get into another perilous situation, and we need to know that those by our side will follow orders, follow the way of Wulder, follow the teachings of Paladin even under duress. She took off on her own and followed her own inclination. We can’t trust her.”

  Kale shifted her shoulders, trying to settle the packs she carried in more comfortable positions. Reluctantly, she followed Dar. She didn’t look forward to this journey. The way would be hard. There was no guarantee they could rescue Leetu. No certainty that Leetu, Kale, and Dar would live to find Wizard Fenworth and the meech egg. Her heart tightened like a fist in her chest. Would she feel better if they could stop for a rest?

  No, it’s not just being tired that hurts. It’s having to accept something I don’t like. I wouldn’t leave Celisse. I’d give her another chance.

  “Dar, I offered her my friendship.” She made one last plea.

  “You aren’t her friend if you accept unacceptable behavior. Leave her in Wulder’s capable hands, Kale. He cares more than you do.”

  The wide path through the woods curved here and there, meandering around bigger trees and sometimes an outcrop of boulders. Two deep ruts showed wagons often used this trail, but Kale and Dar passed no one nor saw any signs of life beyond the usual occupants of a forest. Woodland animals scurried out of their path. Birds called warnings from the high branches, announcing Dar and Kale’s progression. Occasionally, a brightly colored halfnack bird zoomed across the lane as if to get a better look at the travelers. Kale looked over her shoulder. Some distance behind her, a huge beast moved like a gray shadow. With head hanging and tail dragging, Celisse followed.

  22

  CROSSING THE VALLEY

  Dar hurried down the path. Kale plodded along, with frequent peeks behind her to see if Celisse still followed. Traveling through the woods was easier than Kale had expected. The huge trunks were spaced far apart with only small, scattered plants for underbrush. Towering trees shaded them. Sudden whiffs of air breezed down the path, shaking the leaves, stirring the dirt at their feet, and cooling the travelers. They walked for more than an hour along the wagon path through the trang-a-nog woods.

  Ahead of them, Kale saw a sudden end to the forest. Dar halted by the last tree and leaned a shoulder against its smooth, olive-green trunk while he waited for Kale to catch up. Puzzled, she quickened her pace. From where she was, it looked like the path ended abruptly with nothing but blue sky beyond. She came to a standstill beside Dar and stared with wonder.

  The trang-a-nog woods grew right up to the edge of a large valley. The land dropped away within feet of the last tree. The wagon trail veered off to the right and followed the edge in a long circuitous route to the bottom of the cliff.

  A river ran through the green basin. Outcroppings of great orange and red rocks dotted the gently rolling hills. Flocks of sheep could be seen as clusters of tiny gray splotches. Rock walls made lines from hillside to hillside. Small buildings looked like toys set among the scenery. Here and there a square of cultivated land displayed the darker green of produce not yet harvested or the yellowish tinge that indicated an early crop.

  On the other side of the valley, a sheer cliff rose abruptly. At the top, a dark fortress stood sentinel. Beneath the castle walls, halfway down the vertical rock face, a waterfall emerged and plummeted to the base. A mist rose there, obscuring the bottom of t
he cascade. A generous stream coursed away from the gray rock to join the river many miles distant.

  Dar nodded toward the fort. “Is that where Leetu is being held?”

  Kale concentrated, but nothing came to her mind. “I don’t know.”

  The doneel turned and gave her a searching look. “You’re tired.”

  She nodded. She let the pack straps slip from her shoulders and lowered them none too carefully to the ground.

  “Kale, I think this sounds like something I’ve already told you today.” A teasing grin spread across Dar’s face. “You have a healing dragon in your pocket.”

  She stared at him blankly for a moment. Then she realized what he hinted at and felt stupid for not thinking of it herself.

  He rested a hand on her arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You aren’t used to having things such as a healing dragon at your disposal.”

  Dar took hold of her elbow and guided her to a soft clump of tumpgrass in the shade of a tree.

  “Here, sit,” he told her. “I’ll get Gymn out. We’ll lay out the moonbeam cape, and you two can take a nap. I feel like playing a bit on my flute. By the time you awake, you’ll be refreshed and ready for the next part of our journey. And my soul, which I have to admit is a bit distressed, will have regained some peace.”

  Dar proceeded to make Kale comfortable, giving her a cup of water from their bottled supply and a biscuit smeared with some of Granny Noon’s purpleberry jam.

  Kale finished her snack, curled up on the cape with Gymn nestled against her cheek, and listened to Dar’s mellow tune from the silver flute. Sleep had almost claimed her when she remembered something she wanted to ask the doneel.

  “Dar, I heard Granny Noon’s voice.”

  The music stopped. “Just now?”

  “No. When I was on Celisse’s back. After the attack.”

  “What did she say?”

  “I was trying to remember just exactly what to say to make sure I got what I wanted. You know, about blocking minds and not getting hurt by wicked thoughts when I tried to find out something. I heard Granny Noon’s voice say, ‘Not the right words, but a heart in the right place.’ I figure she meant that as long as my intentions were to follow Paladin and go the way of Wulder, then if I bungled up the words a bit, it wouldn’t matter.”