DragonSpell Read online

  Paladin came out of the woods on a path edged with late autumn flowers of deep orange, purple, and golden yellow. Dar came with him, tripping along, merrily engaged in conversation. Brunstetter, the urohm master rider of the dragon who had flown to their rescue, marched behind Paladin. During their adventures, Kale had forgotten how short the doneel people were. Next to the six-foot Paladin and the fourteen-foot Brunstetter, Dar’s three-foot frame looked miniature indeed. He was tall only next to a kimen.

  Paladin smiled at those who greeted him, waved off those who would have joined his small group, and headed straight for Kale. She rose to her feet, her heart speeding up with the joy of seeing him.

  “Kale Allerion,” he greeted her. “Tomorrow I return to the southern border. Lee Ark stays for a season with his family, and you and your comrades resume your quest.”

  Paladin nodded to Dar and Brunstetter, who immediately left his side. He sat on the bench by the table, facing the activities in the surrounding fields. “Be seated,” he commanded.

  His friendly voice held a note of authority. Kale promptly sat and wondered what orders she would receive.

  “Brunstetter is the leader of your expedition. Shimeran is next in command. The kimens will carry Leetu—”

  “I can help,” offered Kale.

  Paladin gave her the slow, thoughtful smile that warmed her heart and made her feel accepted. “No need, Kale. The kimens are very much like ants in that they can carry burdens far heavier than one would expect. And they will be performing special acts toward healing our emerlindian friend.”

  “Why is she so ill, Paladin? There were few wounds on her body, and those have healed.”

  Paladin’s face grew somber. “The mordakleeps engulfed her. Mordakleeps are the embodiment of nothing. Within their grasp, she was surrounded by nothing. No sounds, no sights, no smells, no taste, not the touch of something against her skin, not even the feel of her skin. Why, even her sense of up or down was hidden from her. Inside a mordakleep, there is no sign of life. In that oblivion, her mind writhed in anguish and shut down against the pain of loneliness and isolation.”

  Kale pulled her arms and legs in tightly, so that she perched on the bench like a large egg.

  Paladin took her hand. “You touched that emptiness when you sought Leetu with your mind. You know how devastating even a glimpse of that void is.”

  She nodded, unable to respond as she remembered the awful sick feeling that had overwhelmed her.

  Paladin’s warm hand on hers comforted her. His rich voice soothed even as his words disturbed her.

  “Wulder has a place like that. It’s used for punishment of those who defy Him with every breath until the very last time they exhale on our world. But that punishment is not meant for Leetu. She will recover. Pretender’s imitation of Wulder’s void does not have permanent effects when the proper antidote is administered. And you will play a part in that.”

  At the promise of something to do for Leetu, Kale sat up, leaned forward, and listened even more intently to Paladin.

  “The kimens will sing to Leetu as they carry her. They will touch her, stroke her arms and legs, rub her head, run their delicate little fingers over her face. Dar will bring things for Leetu to smell, the best of Wulder’s scented flowers and, he assures me, some very fragrant foods he plans to fix at mealtimes. Then Wizard Fenworth will complete the cure.”

  “What should I do?”

  “As you travel, you will project the images you see into Leetu’s troubled mind. Beautiful flowers, peaceful meadows, striking sunsets, the funny antics of the kimens, the grace of a butterfly.”

  I can do that!

  “In the evening, you and Gymn will sit with her and make the healing circle. You will allow your love of adventure and your thrill at being part of the quest flow into our emerlindian friend.”

  Oh, no! “Paladin, I can’t. I don’t love adventure. I’m scared to death of the quest, not thrilled.”

  Paladin threw back his head and laughed. Kale pinched her lips together and scowled at him.

  When the great man could speak again, after wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks, he winked at her.

  “Kale, you’re learning more about Wulder every day. You’re learning about your talents and how to use them. And on this quest, you will learn some deep truths about yourself.”

  “You’re saying I love adventure and find the quest thrilling.”

  Paladin grinned, and Kale had the awful urge to stick her tongue out at him just as if she were no more than three years old. He laughed again and got up, reaching into his pocket.

  “Here’s Gymn. He’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. But I have been teaching him all sorts of little tricks. You will have fun together.”

  Kale eagerly took the tiny dragon. Paladin walked off to join the game of ribbets. He dropped his coat on the ground, ran into the crowd, and grabbed the ball as it flew through the air. The children on both teams cheered and swarmed around him.

  “I don’t love adventure,” she told Gymn. She cuddled him under her chin, and he began to thrum. “I’d rather stay here with Lee Ark’s family.”

  She looked to the outside grill where Mistress Ark turned slabs of meat over the fire. The general’s wife put lots of work into caring for her large family. Kale was positive the marione woman derived a great deal of pleasure from her labors. If Kale stayed here, she could help. After all, she knew a lot about household chores. But the thought of staying didn’t please her. She squirmed on the bench and turned her eyes in a different direction, seeking her friends. Although Kale didn’t have a family, she did have comrades: Dar, Leetu, the kimens, and Gymn. Now Brunstetter would be joining them, and the quiet giant intrigued her.

  Kale watched the game of ribbets. The teams ran helter-skelter back and forth across the same ground over and over, chasing a ball the size of a chicken.

  “I do not get a thrill when I think about the quest,” she muttered. Gymn hummed. It was one of Dar’s marching songs.

  She held him away from her and gave him a suspicious look, her eyes narrowed, and one eyebrow crooked.

  “What has Paladin been teaching you?”

  The little dragon sighed, licked his lips, and blinked.

  A quiet thought flickered from the creature’s mind to hers.

  She yelped. “Hatch another egg? Not now. When we get to The Hall there will be plenty of time to hatch another egg.”

  Gymn’s thought grew more urgent. One word drummed in Kale’s mind. “Now, now, now.”

  “Not now,” said Kale.

  33

  ON THE WAY AGAIN

  Kale sat back to back with the urohm Brunstetter on his major white dragon. She faced the direction from which they had come. His huge body blocked the wind for her.

  The second seat afforded her a good view of the smaller flying dragons behind the lead. The leather apparatus had two seats, one large enough for the urohm to be comfortable. The second seemed a little big for Kale’s backside but had riding hooks for her knees at the right place. Celisse flew beside Merlander. No longer the dull colors she had been when they first rescued her, Celisse’s scales flashed like silver and polished onyx in the sun.

  Packs of supplies surrounded Kale. Gymn perched on Kale’s shoulder, enjoying the clear morning view. A second dragon egg rode in the soft scarlet pouch hanging around her neck and tucked into her blouse.

  Paladin had agreed with Gymn.

  Paladin had looked over the dragon eggs as Kale displayed them at the ruler’s request. Her treasure looked like a row of chicken eggs on Mistress Ellie Ark’s kitchen table.

  “I’ve never seen so many,” that good woman commented to all those who’d gathered to witness the event. It seemed all the Ark clan and most of the neighbors were in her spacious kitchen.

  “Nor have I,” added Lee Ark. “It’s a sign, I’m thinking, of troubled times ahead.”

  “Nay, don’t say so,” said Ellie and looked to Paladin’s se
rious face for reassurance.

  Paladin put a hand on each egg in turn and tapped his chin with a finger of the other as he contemplated the row. Finally, he picked one out and handed it to Kale. Then he smiled, and everyone in the crowded room heaved a sigh of relief and nodded to one another.

  Kale tucked the precious egg away with a different kind of sigh. She didn’t want to deal with another baby dragon. Not that Gymn was any trouble…

  Paladin patted her shoulder and gave her a wink. Kale didn’t much appreciate his nonchalance.

  There’re times when I wish this great man were a bit more serious minded. He could use a good dose of Master Meiger’s pessimism. Paladin keeps handing me more and more duties. Find the wizard. Find the meech egg. Go questing. And oh, by the way, hatch out and mother a bunch of dragon babies while you’re trekking from one end of Amara to the other.

  Paladin’s shout of laughter surprised her. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, whispered, “You can do it,” and left the cozy home amid friendly farewells from everyone but Kale.

  He heard what I was thinking.

  “I did.”

  Kale jumped. Paladin stood outside the door. With one hand clasping the elbow of a doddering grandma, he rested the other on the stooped shoulder of the grandpa. Paladin didn’t appear to be paying Kale one bit of attention. He spoke to the older couple, nodding at what they said in return.

  You listen to my thoughts?

  “Whenever you speak to me, I will.”

  How is that possible? You’re busy. Even now you’re busy with someone else. And you’ll be so far away.

  “I seem to remember a conversation we had about allowing Wulder to take care of the impossible. Wulder and I will be keeping an eye on you, Kale.”

  He was moving away, talking to various people as he left. Kale went to the door and stood, leaning against the side. She watched him walk down the hillside, then in front of the barn and fenced pasture. He passed most of the crowd, and his stride lengthened as he headed for his shining white mount, saddled and waiting. It was not the same dragon he had ridden into battle. Even in the morning sunlight, this dragon looked as if he had been carved out of the glowing moon.

  “I’m not leaving you, Kale. Talk to me when you need to.”

  Will you answer?

  “Always. But not always with words.”

  But it would be so much easier if you just spoke to me.

  His words were kind and patient as he mounted the regal dragon and waved once more to the people nearby. “We’ve had this conversation before, as well. Take care of what is put before you, Kale. I will see you again.”

  Her own questing party departed soon after.

  Dar rode Merlander. The kimens with Leetu rode Celisse. Brunstetter, riding point, directed his dragon, Foremoore, toward Bedderman’s Bog. The other, smaller dragons followed side by side. Kale’s stomach was full, her body was warm, and she had a comfortable seat with nothing to do but play with Gymn. She wondered if the tiny trickle of excitement along her skin was a thrill of adventure.

  They left the valley behind them, soared over a heavily wooded area, and soon viewed a vast, fertile plain. It had taken Dar and Kale a lot of walking to cover the same distance. Kale enjoyed making the trip back on the huge white dragon Foremoore. She gazed at the scenes below and projected them to Leetu’s silent mind.

  A recent rain had swollen the brooks. The waters danced along the banks, hurrying to the rivers. Sunlight glistened off the trees, and a breeze ruffled their limbs, making the green leaves flicker from dark to emerald. Fall had brushed some of the landscape. Kale happily relayed all this to the unconscious emerlindian until she noticed a few farmhouses burnt to the ground, then a few more, then a village completely destroyed.

  Risto.

  Paladin had stopped him for now. What plan did Wulder have for the wicked wizard? How would their quest to rescue the meech egg turn out?

  Well, it’s impossible to know that, and I’m supposed to leave the impossible to Wulder.

  Still, the sight of the bisonbeck army’s destruction distressed Kale. She deliberately turned her attention to the leaves turning brilliant colors. She projected the lovely image to Leetu’s mind. Rich green blanketed most of the landscape, but vivid orange and yellow splashed trees at the crest of a few hills. Radiant red mingled with the almost purple-blue leaves of the common armagot trees.

  If Kale had been back in River Away, she would be taking the younger children out in the woods to collect armagotnuts. Mmm! One of Mistress Meiger’s armagotnut pies would be wonderful.

  They flew over another forest. She passed along to Leetu the image of dazzling birds flitting among the foliage. Carefully, she noted the beauty and wonder below them. She didn’t want to miss one single picture that might aid in the emerlindian’s recovery.

  Immediately after noon, when the sun shone directly overhead and their shadows kept pace right below them, Brunstetter signaled for them to descend. They landed in The Midways. Bedderman’s Bog with cygnot trees and marshy pathways lay within sight.

  The kimens put up a tent for Leetu. Dar unpacked his cookstove. Brunstetter efficiently removed the burdens and saddles from all three dragons, fed them, watered them, and sang rumbly songs in a deep bass that they evidently liked. All three were humming along with their eyes half closed, swaying their heads in the peculiar way dragons do when they are content.

  Kale sat beside Leetu, sending the image of the tent. The fabric was not made of light but of threads so fine that Kale wondered if they’d come from kimens’ heads. The reddish brown certainly matched the shade of most of the little people’s hair.

  A voice roared through the air. “What is this, a camp?”

  Kale jumped to her feet, knocking down one side of the tent. She had to battle her way through the cloth to get outside. Brunstetter stood with his hands on his hips, eyeing a scraggly tree and a stump that had appeared between where Dar prepared a meal and the resting dragons.

  “Do you not hear me?” The voice was louder, so loud Kale covered her ears. Still the words sounded like thunder and were hard to distinguish. “I asked a question. Question. Quest. Not a camp. A quest. Tut-tut-tut.”

  Kale heard muttering and then the booming voice again.

  “A tree? I am not a tree. I’m a wizard.”

  More muttering.

  “I am speaking softly. Have to, you know. Scare the creatures not accustomed to wizards if you don’t treat them gently. Oh dear.”

  Kale strained to hear the reply but could hear only a murmur.

  “I am not a tree. Quit saying so. You, however, do seem to be a stump. Tut-tut.”

  The wizard’s form had become more o’rant and less treelike as the argument progressed. The wizard tilted his head toward the shorter man. “Do you hear thunder?”

  Now his face pulled together in a furious scowl. “Me. Me! I’m not roaring like thunder, and I am not shouting!”

  The volume of the last words knocked all but Brunstetter off their feet. The wizard stopped roaring. A muttering of two voices replaced the bellow.

  Kale lifted her face from the grass and watched the tree turn into a tall, willowy old man with a long beard. Leaves and twigs clung to his wrinkled robes. Beside him, the stump transformed into a short, round man who came up to the older man’s waist. His brown clothes bagged around his small stature, and Kale recognized the style of clothing as that of an academician.

  From where she’d fallen on the ground, Kale drew herself up on her elbows for a better look. The short man might be a teacher from The Hall. And the wizard is definitely the man I saw in The Bogs.

  The little man was a tumanhofer, one of the mountain people. A little taller than Dar, with a florid complexion and short black hair, the man growled between clenched teeth. His bushy eyebrows closed over his nose as he scowled up at his companion. Glasses perched on his bulbous nose. Small, dark eyes squinted behind the frames. A tiny pointed beard accented his pointed chin. A thin line of mu
stache crossed over pouty lips.

  Dar hopped to his feet and ran to meet the two.

  He swept a deep, courtly bow. “Wizard Fenworth, we are delighted that you have joined us. And is this the famous Librettowit? You are spoken of highly in all the universities of Amara.”

  The two men turned as one to glare at the doneel.

  “Humph!” they said in unison.

  “Tea?” offered Dar.

  34

  MISLAID CASTLE

  Dar served sandwiches, fresh fruit, sweet pastries, and, of course, tea. Before they sat down to eat, the tumanhofer went around to each person and introduced himself as Trevithick Librettowit, a librarian. Fascinated by the wizard, Kale watched Fenworth eat with gusto everything the doneel placed in front of him. During the entire meal, the old man said little besides an occasional thank-you and many requests to pass one dish or another. Midway through his second helping, the wizard reached into his tangled beard, pulled out a mouse by its tail, and set it on the ground. The tiny creature scampered away.

  Kale barely kept from laughing out loud. She coughed to hide the gurgle that rose in her throat. She wouldn’t want to offend the man. He was someone who fell into shouting easily. She looked to see the reaction of the others in her party. Everyone looked busy, almost too busy, as if they were purposely not watching Wizard Fenworth.

  Perhaps it’s rude to notice when a wizard does something strange.

  The tumanhofer ate more slowly, occasionally scribbling a line or two in a book he balanced on his knee.

  “Well then,” said the wizard, standing and brushing crumbs from the front of his robe. He also dislodged brown, dried leaves, a nest of beetles, several moths, and a lizard. “Let’s go questing.”

  Librettowit put his book away and stood. “Yes.” He looked up at the wizard with a cautious expression. “But first, home to prepare.”

  The stout tumanhofer sighed his relief when Fenworth accepted his suggestion. Shimeran made a gesture to his fellow kimens. They scrambled to take down the tent and prepare a litter. Dar doused his fire and packed his culinary tools.