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  “Good night,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Kale felt a touch on her forehead like a kiss. The pleasant warmth of the caress almost woke her. But the cool, damp mist of morning all around urged her to pull the moonbeam cloak closer and sleep. A thought like a dream told her to rise from bed and search for something. She rolled over and sighed.

  Again the urge to get up and seek someone or something disturbed her slumber. She looked around the gray dawn. Only ash-covered embers lay in the campfire bed. She could make out the forms of tents and sleeping comrades. Fog obscured the countryside beyond the camp.

  Celisse’s head moved from side to side as she kept watch, but the dragon did not reach out to her rider. When Kale told Celisse that something had prodded her awake, the dragon answered that no one had stirred from their beds.

  The hush of night hummed like a lullaby. Kale stood and stretched. She wanted to enjoy the sensation alone and walked toward the kimen falls. Following the sound of the stream, she came to the odd cascade.

  She sat on the damp grass, her cape protecting her from the chill.

  “I wish I could play a flute like Dar or Regidor,” she whispered. “I can hear a melody in my heart. The music says Wulder is wonderful, full of peace and wisdom, banishing worry and strife. If I were Metta, I’d know a song to sing.”

  The gray mist swirled, thinning for a moment on the opposite bank of the rivulet. Kale saw a figure standing away from the bank.

  “Who’s there? Leetu?”

  She rose to her feet, reaching with her mind.

  Her pulse quickened, and she took in a sharp breath. In only a moment, she’d found the stepping stones and crossed to the other side. She could now see the flowing cut of a court jacket, the froth of lace at the cuffs, the dark boots that came up past the man’s knees.

  “Paladin,” she whispered.

  He turned, and his face shone as if moonlight touched him.

  The first time she had seen him, Kale had thought he was very handsome. But now she realized his attractiveness came from his expression rather than his features. Oddly, Paladin and Risto resembled each other—dark hair, blue eyes, a straight nose, a strong chin, and a high forehead. But Paladin’s face held laugh lines and tenderness in his gaze. Risto’s brow was furrowed with stern lines, and his haughty expression and cold eyes made her shiver.

  Paladin held out one hand, and she stepped into his embrace. She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to him breathe.

  “Paladin, I needed you.”

  “I know, my child, and I need you.”

  She tilted back her head to look up at his solemn face. “Are we going into Creemoor to rescue my mother?”

  “No, Kale, you must go another way.”

  “But—”

  “I knew this would be hard for you to understand, so I chose to talk with you first. You’ll go to Prushing.”

  “Why?”

  “Here come the others. We’ll talk together.”

  Out of the mist came Dar, Regidor, and Bardon.

  The three men saluted their leader. In spite of the formal greeting, they looked bemused as if they too had come up out of their beds and followed a summons they did not understand.

  “Gentlemen,” said Paladin, “your talents are needed elsewhere. You will go to Prushing to rescue someone from Risto’s clutches. His trail will be hard to follow.”

  “Prushing?” Regidor tilted his head as he thought. “The capital city of Trese, located north of the Odamee Channel, and noted for a fishing industry and trade with the Northern Reach.”

  Paladin smiled. “Yes, Regidor.”

  “Who are we rescuing?” asked Dar.

  “Another meech dragon, one almost the same age as our Regidor.”

  “Another!” Regidor’s tail came up around his side, and he grasped it between two scaly hands. “Another? I’m the only meech dragon born in over a hundred years.”

  “It seems we were mistaken. There is another.”

  Dar nodded his head slowly. “And Risto has him.” He thumped one fist into the palm of his other hand. “That’s why Risto let us get away with Regidor. That’s why he didn’t unleash his wrath.”

  “I thought Wulder protected us,” said Kale.

  “Wulder did, but the fight could have been longer. Risto could have caused trouble after the egg was delivered to Fenworth.” Dar searched Paladin’s face. “I always suspected there was too little hubbub when Risto lost his prized possession. He had another egg. Was Regidor just a decoy?”

  “A decoy?” Regidor tugged on his tail. “Nothing as grand as a meech dragon can be a mere decoy.”

  Paladin placed a soothing hand on the young dragon’s shoulder. “Risto wanted you, all right. His plan was to use your life force to create another race. The other meech hatched around the same time as you did, Regidor. From our sources, we know that he bonded to Risto.

  “Wulder has been quiet on the matter of this dragon. We proceed with care, seeking His counsel. We won’t stand still and wait, since we know that Wulder is ever opposed to evil. But without clear direction, we take small steps, only doing what we know will cause no harm.”

  He let his gaze move over the selected warriors. “Risto’s plan for this other meech dragon is to control all orders of dragon in the land. He will maneuver this meech into a place of leadership and be the power behind the figurehead. With that knowledge, we move into position to stop him.”

  “Couldn’t I stop him?” Regidor grinned at the prospect. “Could I command the dragons to follow me instead?”

  Paladin shook his head. “No, Risto has enhanced this dragon’s charismatic personality with a spell. At this point he is capable of gaining dominance over the dragons and causing havoc.”

  Bardon placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword belted at his waist. “Then we find and destroy this meech dragon before Risto can use him for evil.”

  “No, Bardon, my friend. This is a rescue mission. You are to bring the meech dragon out of the hell he was born into.”

  Dar shook his head. “I’d rather fight Creemoor spiders. Simpler.”

  23

  LAST-MINUTE CHANGES

  The sun burned away the morning mist.

  Paladin had said they would leave this morning. But for now Paladin sat with Wizard Fenworth and Wizard Cam, Librettowit, Lee Ark, and Leetu Bends. Kale resisted the urge to listen in on their conversation using her mindspeaking ability.

  I’m glad we’re leaving. I’m not sure I could stand this waiting much longer. Kale looked off toward the wood. But I’m not sure how I feel about going to Prushing.

  “I get to go with you?” Toopka asked again.

  “Yes.” Kale gave the doneel’s solid little body a hug. “Paladin said you would be helpful in the city. Dar knows about the aristocracy, and you know about the street people.”

  “I’m going to call Dar ‘uncle,’ but I am not going to call you ‘aunt.’ No one would believe you’re my aunt. You could marry Dar and be my aunt, but that wouldn’t be believable either.”

  “Why wouldn’t that be believable?”

  “You’re so different. You’d fight all the time.”

  “Not necessarily.” Kale tried to remember something she had read in one of the textbooks at The Hall. Something about Wulder making people different so they could work together more efficiently.

  Toopka tugged on Kale’s sleeve. “You don’t know how to cook or sew or play music. Dar can do all those things.”

  “Wulder gave different talents to people. Imagine if Dar and I fought over who would fix our meals, what a mess that would be. This way I leave him to do what he does best, and he leaves me to do what I do best.”

  “What do you do best, Kale?”

  The question stunned her. I was a good slave. A hard worker, obedient, quick. And I really liked taking care of the children.

  Kale looked into the trusting eyes of the young doneel on her lap. With a grin growing on her face, she said
, “Tickle!” and gently dug her wiggling fingers into Toopka’s sides, making her squeal and squirm.

  The two toppled over on the grass, and Kale pinned Toopka.

  “You’re fun, Kale. You’d make a good mommy.”

  “I’m a long ways away from being a mother.”

  “Wulder could fix it so you could have babies now.”

  “Yes, but Wulder wants us to get ready to do a task so we’ll be counted good workers—like Dar and Bardon practice for battle. Wulder would want me to learn more before being a mother. He would also want me to have a husband.”

  Kale let Toopka sit up. Kale smiled as she watched the little girl smooth her blouse and pick grass off her breeches, reminding Kale of Dar’s fastidious attention to grooming.

  Toopka looked at Kale and wrinkled her nose. “Rules! Wulder should just cross out some. That would make it easier to remember the important ones.”

  Kale laughed. “Fenworth says Wulder made His rules for good reasons. He doesn’t ever rearrange His rules on a whim.”

  “On a wind? Like a sandstorm? Sittiponder said sandstorms are fierce. They’ll shred your skin like sliding down a gravel pit.”

  Kale tried to capture an elusive memory. “I’m sorry, Toopka. I don’t remember who Sittiponder is.”

  “He’s the blind wisdom speaker who lives alone under the stairs at the warehouses in Vendela. I used to bring him food, not just because of the stories he’d tell, but because I liked him.”

  “How did he get so wise if he lived alone? Did he go to school?”

  “He said if he was still, he could hear the words spoken in The Hall, and at night he collected wisdom while he dreamed.”

  “Someday I’d like to meet Sittiponder.”

  “So Wulder uses wind to change things when He wants to?”

  “What? Where did you get such a strange idea? Oh no! I said, ‘whim,’ not ‘wind.’ A whim is a careless idea, one you didn’t think about very much, and it is likely to get you into trouble.”

  “Well, Wulder wouldn’t go around thinking whims. I’ve decided you can’t marry Dar.”

  Bardon’s shadow fell across them. “Marry Dar?”

  Toopka grinned. “But Kale could marry you, Bardon. Then you could adopt me, and Dar could still be my uncle.”

  A look of horror destroyed Bardon’s usually guarded expression.

  Toopka, you said that on purpose.

  “Of course I said it on purpose. How can you say something on accident?”

  I mean you said that deliberately to embarrass Bardon—and me!

  “Kale is t-t-too young to marry,” Bardon stammered. “And I, I have no profession.”

  “You’re a servant of Paladin.” Toopka planted her fists on her tiny hips. “Isn’t that a pro-fes-son?”

  “I was training.” Bardon ran his hand along the side of his head, smoothing the dark hair that never seemed mussed or at all uncombed. “I never got to the important preparation.”

  Toopka stepped closer to him. “Paladin said I could go on the quest because I would be useful. I didn’t have any training. So if I am useful, you must be tons useful.”

  Dibl came and landed on Bardon, next to his muscular neck. Bardon jerked and turned his head to eye the bright dragon perched on the brown material of his tunic. The warrior took in a quick breath, and as he released it, his face softened. He smiled. Then his shoulders shook gently, and a laugh escaped his lips. He patted the indignant doneel on her furry head and looked to Kale.

  “I came to ask you,” he said, “if you’re ready to go. Paladin says there’s no gateway inside the city. We’ll have to enter the countryside.”

  Kale stood as Dar approached with two packs slung over his shoulders. Librettowit followed.

  The tumanhofer nodded to Lehman Bardon. “I’m not needed on the Creemoor expedition. Cam will watch after Fenworth. I asked to return to my library, but Paladin sends me with you instead.” Librettowit shrugged, shifting the load on his back. “No matter. I believe the rare book shops in Prushing will be worth the bother of trailing a miscreant meech.”

  Regidor trotted over to join them. “I’ll be able to sniff him out. What better person to find a meech dragon than another meech dragon?”

  Toopka clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. “A sneaky little doneel. That’s me.”

  Bardon scooped the child into his arms. “You are to stick like a rock pine cone to Kale and stay out of trouble. I am your commanding officer, and you are to obey orders.”

  Toopka’s eyes grew big. “You’re in charge of all of us?”

  “No, Dar is, but I outrank you, little ninny-nap-conder.”

  Regidor cleared his throat. “I don’t believe I’ve seen that word in any of Librettowit’s dictionaries.”

  “Ninny-nap-conder refers,” said the librarian, “to one who appears to be a ninny, and one who seems to sleep through what is happening, unaware of what is going on. But in actuality, it means a con artist, one who manipulates those around her. In this case, ninny-nap-conder is a term of endearment. Bardon is saying Toopka is a little scamp.”

  Toopka cocked her head and frowned. “I don’t think I like being endeared that way.”

  Kale chuckled as she snapped her fingers to draw the foraging minor dragons’ attention. “Then you’d best deal more honestly with your friends. Gymn, Metta, we’re leaving.”

  The dragons, including Dibl, flew to Kale and pushed their way beneath the folds of her cape to find their pocket-dens. Kale stooped to roll up her bedroll.

  In a matter of minutes, the party of questers lined up before Paladin. The second company of adventurers, who would go to Creemoor, stood beside them.

  “One more thing before you go,” Paladin said. “Kale, I must see the dragon eggs you still have in your keeping.”

  Kale swiftly lowered her pack to the ground and removed the eggs from the pockets sewn into the moonbeam cape. The three minor dragons came out, chittering excitedly.

  Paladin crouched on the other side and slowly examined each of the five eggs Kale lined up along the top of her bundle of belongings.

  “This one,” he said, picking up the middle egg. He handed it to Kale. “Place this one in your hatching pouch.”

  The small dragons zoomed into the air and did somersaults above the assembly. Dibl dove into Wizard Fenworth’s beard and did not reappear.

  “Here now,” protested the old man as he patted his beard. “Come out of there. You’re eating, aren’t you? Take care you eat the bugs and not my buttons. I’ll not have my robes falling off because some inexperienced glutton devoured bone buttons instead of beetles. You could be useful while you’re at it and eat that drummerbug that keeps me awake at night.”

  A bumblebee buzzed out of the curtain of gray hair at tremendous speed with Dibl right behind it. The dragon snatched it, chewed, swallowed, and gave out a trill of joy.

  “Quite!” agreed the wizard and nodded knowingly at those around him. “Sweet. A delicacy. Very filling. But they tickle on the way down.”

  24

  THE JOURNEY BEGINS

  Kale and her friends mounted the dragons. Paladin took the point, leading them to Brunstetter’s castle. Flying over the countryside reminded Kale that this rolling prairie held animals larger than in any other part of Amara. Traveling on land, they might have seen chickens as large as dogs, dogs as big as cows, cows as tall as horses, and horses she could have walked under without bending.

  The sun reached its peak, and the urohm city of Blisk appeared on the horizon. They landed in a dragon field and rode in wagons to the center of the metropolis.

  Lady Brunstetter, a dark-eyed, stately woman, served the questing party a noonmeal. Dar and Regidor savored the meal with a good deal of lip-smacking. Kale kicked the doneel under the table after one especially loud slurp of soup.

  “Ouch!” He turned to glare at his o’rant friend.

  Lady Brunstetter laughed, her eyes twinkling with merriment. “I know exactly how you
feel, Kale. But it’s their custom, and doneels think it not rude but complimentary to eat noisily. The problem is when my doneel friends leave after an extended visit. Then I have to retrain our children in the manners of our people.”

  As if to prove her point, one of the children took a bite of roasted venison and smacked loudly before dabbing grease from his chin with a linen napkin.

  The meal was quickly dispatched. Paladin thanked their hostess for her graciousness and ushered the questing party into a chamber behind the throne room.

  A gateway shimmered against a solid stone wall. Kale held Toopka with the little doneel’s arms wrapped around her neck. Librettowit stood in the shadows against a side wall in the small room. Bardon held a position by the door, his posture stiff, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and his jaw rigid. Kale intercepted a glance her way and smiled at him. He looked away without acknowledging her gesture of encouragement.

  It’s all right, Bardon. We’re all nervous.

  He blinked, but didn’t respond.

  Regidor held his tail in one hand. White knuckles gleamed on each scaly finger.

  Kale looked at the stone slab floor and wished for Leetu Bends. She isn’t always friendly, but she sure acts like nothing bothers her. On the last quest, I thought I was safe just because she was there.

  Paladin nodded for Dar to go first. The doneel diplomat stepped before his ruler.

  “I pledge again my loyalty to you, my lord. May Wulder keep me humbly in your service.”

  Paladin rested a hand on Dar’s shoulder. “I commission you to stand strong against the enemy of our high and mighty Wulder, to stand true to His word of hope, to stand with wisdom over His warriors entrusted to your guidance, and to seek justice and mercy in this quest.”

  Dar bowed slightly and strode through the gateway.

  Regidor marched forward. “Do I get a commission? Do I get special instructions?”

  “Your commission is like Dar’s. Each member of the party is to uphold Dar’s leadership and to accept his mission as their own.” He looked around the stone-walled chamber to include each member of the questing party. “You may decline at this moment.”