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  A riding dragon approached, sailing through scattered, puffy clouds. Her contented smile stretched into a broad grin. Greer’s wings flashed blue, and his purple scales glinted as he banked for landing. Bardon waved from the saddle as Kale lifted her skirts and ran to greet him.

  As soon as the majestic beast folded his cobalt wings against his amethystine sides, Bardon swung his leg over the horn of the saddle and slid to the ground, grace and ease in his movements.

  Thanks to Wulder, the treatment he’d received that morning had been successful. Kale carefully guarded her thoughts and feelings in order to not distress him. He’d groaned with pain most of the night. The herbal potion she had given him when they retired kept him asleep, but she knew the extent of his suffering.

  For a moment, Kale took up again with Wulder the subject of Bardon’s health. Why stakes, my Creator? Why a childhood disease that could cripple him? He has seasons of health and then weeks of increasing pain. Why not increase the seasons of health and completely eradicate the stiffness and pain?

  Kale remembered the many times she and Gymn had eased Bardon’s discomfort but never succeeded in pushing it completely out of his system. We’ve failed, Wulder. Even when we feel closest to You, we have failed. This morning the suffering sent him to the kimens. And he looks better. But why not just cure him, Wulder? Is there anything I can do to bring this blessing to my husband?

  Kale forced a smile to her lips as Bardon strode forward. Mikkai rode on his shoulder but flew into the air as she approached. She ran into her husband’s arms, and he swung her off her feet, spinning while she laughed with relief. His strength had been renewed.

  He plopped her down and gazed into her eyes. “Guess who I saw at Minasterloan’s castle.”

  Reading his mind, Kale shrieked, “Regidor and Gilda!”

  He tilted back his head and laughed, then pulled her to his chest, rubbing his chin through her hair. He hadn’t shaved before his brief journey, and the bristles tugged in a soothing way. Silver hairs streaked the black hair above his slightly pointed ears. Laugh lines spread out from his blue eyes, but deep creases accented his mouth where pain was often registered by his clenched teeth. Kale closed her eyes against the evidence of his struggle. She nestled her ear to his heart while she absorbed the details of his journey to their closest neighbor.

  As he remembered, Kale joined his train of thought. She could see Gilda’s gown and cape, and Kale marveled at how elegant the meech dragon looked. Gilda belonged in the grandeur of a castle. Not in the rooms where work oiled the smooth functioning of the household. But in the formal rooms where discussions covered art, travel, spiritual enlightenment, expanding knowledge, politics, and fashion.

  Through Bardon’s memories, Kale heard Regidor’s throaty laugh and watched as the meech husband and wife exchanged a look of understanding. In a rush of information, she learned the two dragons had determined to search for the hidden meech colony. She heard Bardon’s voice enter the conversation. “Kale and I will join you on your quest.”

  She squealed, jumped out of his embrace to dance a jig, and then lunged forward to hug him again.

  “Whoa!” he objected. “You’re going to squeeze me in half.”

  She released him, all the excitement draining out of her.

  Bardon placed his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t go. I’m busy all day long, and no one else can do some of the things I take care of.”

  Bardon chuckled. “The indispensable Dragon Keeper.”

  Kale pulled away, crossed her arms over her chest, and grimaced at him. “Don’t you laugh at me.”

  “I’m not mocking, and you need a respite from your responsibilities.” He held up a hand as she sputtered a “but.” “I know you enjoy your work, but enough is enough. It’s time for some fun, some adventure. It’s springtime, and Amara is bursting with new life. Flowers abound. Little lambs are kicking up their heels in the fields.” He waved his hand at a nearby trang-a-nog tree. “Birds are hatching and all that.”

  She giggled. “Yes, but we will have to enjoy all that in our own backyard. I have dozens of eggs ready to quicken.”

  “And that’s why I sent for your father and mother.”

  Before she could ask how he had done that, he continued. “Actually, Regidor did the communicating.” He grabbed her arm, pulled it through his, and started toward their home. “We’ll just tell Librettowit and Taylaminkadot that we’re on our way, and be off.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Your parents will be here within the hour.” He sidestepped to avoid a flock of heatherhens chasing an unlucky drummerbug.

  “Doesn’t my father have his own Dragon Keeper’s castle to maintain?”

  “He says his organization marches with such precision that he need only check in once in a while to deal with an odd problem or two.”

  “Oh, he does?” Kale bit the side of her cheek as she mulled over this bit of information.

  Bardon squeezed her shoulders. “Which dragons will you bring with you?”

  She answered promptly. “Gymn and Metta.”

  “Of course.”

  “Pat and Filia, Crispin and Tieto, Dibl and Artross.”

  “Artross may not like being taken from leader of his watch and put under Gymn’s authority.”

  “I’ll ask him, of course. He doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t care to.” And there’s a big hint in there, dear husband, if you would only catch it. I don’t mind going, but I don’t like being rushed. It’s not like you to sweep me into a plan without considering my situation. She opened her mouth to speak, but Bardon spoke first.

  “Artross will come. There isn’t a dragon here who wouldn’t jump at the chance to travel with you.” Mikkai swooped over their heads and flew off again to mingle with his kind. “Of course, Mikkai will come. He’ll be a great help.” He winked at Kale. “Summon your choices now. It won’t take but a minute to inform Librettowit and Taylaminkadot of our quest.”

  “Taylaminkadot has lunch ready by now.”

  “Umm…” Bardon rubbed his stomach, another sign that he felt better if his appetite had returned.

  Kale breathed a sigh. Even when he exasperated her, she loved her husband and wanted health for him.

  “We’ll eat and then depart,” declared Bardon.

  Kale exhaled her frustration in a huff of forced air. What had gotten into Bardon? He usually deliberated and gave her plenty of time to adjust to any plans he made. Her shoulder and neck muscles tensed in rebellion. “I need to pack.”

  Bardon stopped and stepped away from her.

  She frowned and felt the reaction within her husband. He wasn’t chastised by her expression of disapproval. He thought she was cute. Cute!

  He placed his hands on his hips and looked her over from head to toe. She squirmed under his gaze. She knew that expression. He was thinking of her attributes, not her attire.

  He grinned. “You look ready to me. You just need to pick up your moonbeam cape.”

  “Bardon—”

  “What? You change that outfit into anything you want to wear. You do the same for my clothes. The hollows of your cape hold everything from a toothbrush to ten gallons of parnot juice. You have books, herbs, jewelry, hats, food—”

  Kale snapped her fingers. “Herbs and food! I should check to see if I have enough, and fresh food would be welcome. I haven’t restocked those hollows in…”

  Bardon cocked an eyebrow. “In?”

  Kale shrugged. “Well, it was the end of last week, but I should check to see if I missed anything, and I need to tell Father some of the things he should know about—”

  Bardon took her arm and started toward the castle once more. “Your father is a Dragon Keeper. He knows what to do.”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t always use the same methods I do.”

  “And what would happen, lady of mine, if you waited to tell him the way you want him to do things?”

  “
He’d listen, agree to everything, and then do it his way as soon as I’m out of sight.”

  “Precisely. And will his way harm your dragons?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Not at all.”

  Kale sighed. “Right, not at all.” She gripped his arm more tightly and gave it a shake. “But, Bardon, it isn’t my way.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Why are you being so bossy?

  “Why are you dragging your heels? Don’t you want to see Regidor and Gilda?”

  Of course I do.

  He patted her hand clenched to his arm. “Everything will be just fine.”

  Kale tried to dampen her annoyance, but she only thought of more arguments.

  “Who’s going to do your duties? The school for the boys won’t run itself. They need your training.”

  “Sir Grant has volunteered to come over.”

  The minor dragons came to greet him.

  “Hello, Pinto. Hello, Fernan. You rascal, Jodi, have you been harassing these boys again?”

  With Kale right beside him, he could mindspeak with any of the little dragons. Mikkai, who had bonded with him at birth, was the only one he could communicate with freely. These would pester him like a horde of children surrounding their favorite uncle.

  “Shoo,” said Kale. “Bardon and I are having a serious discussion.” She almost blurted out her annoyance with her husband, but she knew the reaction she would get. She was the Dragon Keeper, but he was the head of the house. The leader’s leader. They’d want to know details and then side with him. “Go on, go back to your games and snacks.”

  They flew off good-naturedly, not concerned with Kale’s impatience.

  “Where were we?” asked Kale. “Your crops. Who’s going to take care of them? And your overseeing of the villages? And your role as magistrate? Someone has to be here to maintain the system you worked so hard to establish. And your council duties for Paladin? You can’t walk off and leave that duty.”

  “Mort, Crownden, and Rasmiller.”

  “They’re all coming to the castle?” She followed him through a back door, into a cool, dim corridor.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a houseparty! I can’t leave my mother to deal with all that. And Taylaminkadot is with child again. She doesn’t need to be catering to guests.”

  “Both your mother and your housekeeper will be thrilled with the opportunity to show off their flair for hospitality.”

  You’re suspiciously determined, Sir Bardon.

  “I’m determined that my wife have some excitement instead of day-today drudgery for a while.”

  I’m not all that fond of excitement, especially when it involves armies of wicked bisonbecks.

  “There hasn’t been an army of wicked bisonbecks in Amara since you and your father took care of Crim Cropper and Burner Stox.”

  Whenever I’ve ventured from home, all sorts of evil pops up out of the ground, swoops out of the sky, and tramples down the grassy plains to get to me.

  Once more Bardon gathered her into his arms and spoke as his lips touched the top of her head. “It won’t be like that this time. Amara is at peace.”

  Kale leaned into Bardon, wanting to generate the same enthusiasm pulsating through him.

  She lifted her head. “Toopka!”

  “What about Toopka?”

  She started off again as if she could outrun the disagreement. “I’m her guardian. I can’t just abandon her. What kind of guardian goes off and leaves for who knows how long?”

  “Sir Dar.”

  “Sir Dar?”

  “Sir Dar. He’s the kind of guardian who goes off and leaves for who knows how long!”

  Ah! He’s going to make this point, too, unless I come up with something. “Well, it’s true that we have joint guardianship, but—”

  “But, nothing. We’ll take Toopka with us and drop her off with Sir Dar.”

  Kale stopped in the middle of the large entryway that faced the wrong side of the castle, having been built with much enthusiasm by a water wizard. She shouted to be heard over the many rivulets cascading from the walls. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “Because,” hollered Bardon, “Regidor is not going to wait for us. He’s already gone, and we have to catch up.”

  “Why wouldn’t he wait?”

  “Because Gilda wants her egg to be presented at the meech colony and nowhere else.”

  4

  LIBRETTOWIT, THE LIBRARIAN

  Bardon left Kale to rush about doing the things she thought extremely important and sought out the company of Librettowit. Kale had transported her mentor’s castle to this location, and her parents had joined it to the main building. Fenworth’s home still resembled a massive group of cygnot trees. Most people got lost walking through the round corridors within tree limbs. Major parts of the rooms were dedicated to books. In a back room of this library built in a tree, the tumanhofer Librettowit sought sanctuary.

  The creak of the door broke the silence as Bardon entered. The librarian raised his head from the book he was reading and gazed over his wire-framed glasses at the intruder.

  “Hello, Master Librettowit.” Bardon bounded into the room and pulled out a chair at the table piled with books. With a happy chirrup, Mikkai flew to an open book containing maps. Bardon moved two at the top of the pile in front of him so he could see the librarian. “We’ve new neighbors in Fairren Forest. A whole village of new neighbors.”

  Librettowit sighed, put a bookmark in his place, closed the book, and gave Bardon his attention.

  Bardon leaned on a pile of books. “I’d like you to investigate.” The books began to slide. He caught two and shoved them upright, then scrambled to keep them from falling the other direction. “But I fear you couldn’t get in. There!” He settled the mixture of open and closed books in their precarious tower and met the tumanhofer’s sharp gaze. “The citizens are made up entirely of mariones and o’rants.”

  “Harrumph! Totally against Wulder’s principles.”

  “Oh, there’s more. A suspicious lack of children under ten. Odd, regimented clothing. Leaders who dominate instead of lead. Doctrine that’s been dunked in a fish barrel.”

  Librettowit took off his glasses and wiped them with a clean cloth from his pocket. “A faction?”

  “I think so.”

  “Indeed, something must be done.” He replaced his spectacles and shoved them up with one finger so that the bridge sat high on his nose.

  “How many are caught in the lie?”

  “In that village, I would say under a hundred. Maybe sixty to seventy. But the leader, Echo Marson, said it was only one village, implying there were many more, and he said the movement is growing.”

  Librettowit pried himself out of the cushy reading chair and paced the room. “Who can we send?”

  “I thought of Holt.”

  He stopped and frowned at Bardon over the glasses that had again slipped down on his nose. “Holt? That young man who hung around N’Rae years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why this ne’er-do-well Holt?”

  “Because he hasn’t been associated with us in eight years, and he is a ne’er-do-well as you say. Who would suspect that we would send him to uncover the truth?”

  “Why should we trust him?” countered Librettowit.

  “I think we can. He is more lazy than evil, and he is inclined to do heroic deeds if they are not too troublesome.”

  Librettowit went to his bookshelves and appeared to study the titles. Finally he returned his attention to Bardon.

  “Do you even know where he is?”

  “No, but I count on you to find him and give him the assignment, if his present circumstances indicate he will do well. In other words, if he isn’t in the middle of chicanery of some sort.”

  “Me? I’m a librarian, not a director of espionage. Why don’t you do it?”

  “Kale and I are going on a quest.”

  Mikkai sat on a book in t
he shelves and demanded through a series of chirps to be listened to. Bardon got up, pulled the book from its place, and laid it open on the table at the top of one of the piles that seemed to be less wobbly.

  Librettowit paced with his hands behind his back as Bardon returned to his seat and told him of his visit to Paladise.

  “Paladise?” Librettowit harrumphed with even more vigor. “What kind of mockery is that of our Paladin and his role in preserving the Tomes, educating the people, exhorting and disciplining the followers of Wulder?”

  “They present their society as more dedicated to Wulder than the average person.”

  “Better than the rest of us, huh? A sure sign of hypocrisy.”

  Bardon got up again to retrieve another book for Mikkai. “Another point of interest is the symbol they have on their doorsteps, a big bird with wings outstretched. I can’t say it is a bird I recognized.”

  Librettowit stared at him as he pinched his bottom lip between thumb and forefinger. A light sprang to his eyes. He held up one finger and headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Bardon sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, put his feet on an ottoman, and leaned back. So far the day had been eventful in good and bad ways. The visit at Minasterloan’s castle had relieved the constant pain of stakes, and he had learned from the kimens that this new commune had sprung up right under his nose. The opportunity to investigate and set wheels in motion before he left the region eased his conscience.

  He didn’t want to miss this important quest, and he wanted Kale to have some time to enjoy life. She worked so hard, and the fun-loving lady he married was often too tired at night to read or chat. When he played his flute for her, she went right to sleep. They’d turned into a very old couple when they should still be having a grand time. The stakes slowed him down, but he would make a concerted effort to allow his wife some lighthearted enjoyment. He’d been conspiring with Regidor to make it happen.

  Librettowit returned with a scroll, which he put on the table and spread out over the peaks of book stacks.

  “Look at this symbol and see if it resembles this bird you saw.”